#sometimes I think about meanings sometimes they just come with a name

[jiminrings]

four seven eight, phase 3 (1)

pairing: jungkook x reader

wordcount: 9k

glimpse: jungkook's secure when it comes to being a husband and a dad, knowing that he grew to love being both after everything you've been through. what he isn't so secure about is the possibility that it's everything he'll ever be.

alternatively, jungkook pursues his dream of making a film, even if it means making your rival his main lead behind your back.

[ part one, intermission, part two, intermission 02, finale — complete series masterlist, from phase 1 to 3 ]

[ the return of 478jk (derogatory), major angst, fluff, the weight of devotion except jk's mean this time, flashbacks to phase 1 (im so sorry), the both of them r in an identity crisis, The Return of yoongi, yearning and the ache of unfulfillment all over, eventual redemption ]

notes: FINALLYYYYYY after a long wait, phase three is finally here :-) the og era of 478 is a time i'll truly never forget so now that i'm putting them in Several Inconveniences again, i look forward to creating another era with u citizens!!! mwah thank u love yew

as always, lmk what you think <3 send in feedback n love to my askbox anytime!!

Jungkook likes to be needed.

He likes to be needed fully, sometimes even all at once to the point that every mention of his name makes him think that his assistance is needed. He wants to be needed like the way you rummage through your old film canisters that you dumped in a large drawer just to retrieve a specific picture of him; needed like the way you sigh in relief when you find said roll.

Jungkook wants you to seek him in a crowd, past all the banners of your name from your fans and lanyards of your staff, and ask specifically him for a cold water bottle he keeps in his bag for you. As a matter of fact, he wouldn’t even mind if you ask it from him indiscreetly — he wants to be needed, even if neither of you are alone with each other.

He’s used to the feeling of being needed because it’s practically routine for him. The way Jungkook loves you has changed and evolved (needlessly to say for the better) through the years, and although he tries to look for the balance in it all, there’s a tiny, tiny part of him that wonders what would’ve happened if neither of you changed.

It’s perhaps the change in seasons, or maybe it’s the build-up of the stupid little things Jungkook’s seen recently; one of those things happen to be a ridiculously long thread by your fan, who happens to also be a fan of Yoongi, assuming that your marriage with J*ngkook (that’s exactly how they typed his name out) is ending, hence your recent collaboration on a brand deal. Jungkook, of course, has half the mind to go on his secret stan account and snark at said poster before reporting, but even then, there’s an itch in his mind that he can’t scratch.

Whatever weather it is outside nowadays or whichever stupid little thing pisses him off online, Jungkook can’t shake off the nagging question of what if in his mind.

When Jungkook cleans your water bottle every night for you to take to set the next day, he wonders if the two of you would still be together if only he didn’t rush to your place by the exact second your month-long break ended, right when he takes off the rubber from the cap to clean the ridges thoroughly.

When he blowdries your hair (even if you tell him not to bother) after you begrudgingly take a shower because you can’t sleep in bed after going outside and not washing up the second you come home, he wonders if you would’ve kept loving him even if the very incident with Sora didn’t push him to change, right when he sees you close your eyes while his hands scratch your scalp.

When Jungkook sounds out syllables to Hwayoung and tries his very best not to baby-talk her (he can’t help it sometimes) as he recounts his day to the toddler, he wonders if you would’ve even had a daughter with him if he stayed the same silent lover that he used to be, right when she parrots your name back to him with a smile.

“Young-ie’s probably starting to need me less and less,” he sighs to you with a pout, eyebrows knitted in concern as he gives you his rookie version of a blowout he’s still trying to perfect. Jungkook can’t flick his wrist the way professional hairstylists do, just in the same way you can’t pick up why he’s brought up the thought out of nowhere.

“How could you say that? She’s the biggest daddy’s girl ever,” you chuckle, placating him with the truth despite your initial confusion. If you weren’t fully awake awhile ago, you certainly are now — mostly because Jungkook springs up an unbelievable idea, and partly because whenever he tugs the brush at your hair, your whole head comes along with it.

“Not really. More like biggest mommy’s girl, you mean,” he defensively scoffs, apologizing quickly when he hears you wince at a particular experimental tug he does on your ends.

“Should we wake her up right now and let her decide?” you murmur, your eyes locking with his on the mirror.

Jungkook, at his most comfortable state, wearing ratty oversized pajamas and glasses on his face that he’s yet to update the prescription on, has never felt more competitive in his life.

“Well we could-…”

“I was joking,” you deadpan, the silence between the two of you getting long enough to the point that you suddenly find yourself laughing, effectively getting Jungkook out of his daze.

“… I knew that.”

You may have had an inkling about Jungkook feeling slightly off before in the past weeks, but all it took was his random, unprompted question tonight for you to solidify that seed of concern in your chest.

Jungkook likes to be needed, even if he can’t say the same that you need him as much as he thinks you do. He thinks it’s a perfectly rational feeling to want to be needed by both your wife and your daughter, and although he’s not as receptive to being needed as much by anyone other than his family, the feeling still stays the same.

He has all the time in the world. You’ve enabled him to do so even if he’s the one mainly looking after Hwayoung while you worked, but despite that, Jungkook doesn’t feel needed enough.

There’s an itch in his mind that he can’t scratch with neither your constant affection nor Hwayoung’s grabby hands. There’s an unplaceable, agitating urge in Jungkook’s chest to put a pause on everything and be back to who and what he used to be, despite your affirmation that he is needed.

There’s that tick going on in Jungkook’s brain that amplifies everything he does to seem wrong; that makes him grumpy when he wakes up to prepare you breakfast whenever you had early shoots, that makes him purse his lips when his daughter asks him to watch the same movie with her for the third time in the week.

All of the uneasiness in him, however, disappears when Namjoon, the acclaimed screenwriter that he has for a friend (whom he actually met through you), calls him up with an offer that Jungkook can’t refuse.

It’s an offer that releases the ache from his bones, makes him want to blowdry your hair better, and watch the same movie over and over again with his daughter — but Jungkook postpones saying it to you when you come home and want nothing more than to be in his arms, and for Hwayoung to be in yours.

( ♡ )

Jungkook could wait more.

He convinces himself that he can because although there’s a date set for the short film that Namjoon’s pitched for him to produce, it hasn’t grown yet to become the unstoppable force against Jungkook’s immovable object: family.

He knows he needs to tell you eventually and that he’s not really asking for permission in the first place, but there’s a sense of guilt in him whenever the thought of breaking the news to you comes into mind. He’s not nervous per se because he knows you’re as supportive of him, if not more, like he is with you.

It just happens that it’s within the fine details that Jungkook truly feels hesitant to tell you that he has to leave for awhile.

Jungkook could wait more, and although that means he has to deal with the occasional voice in his head telling him that lying to you (even under the guise of protecting you) has the capacity to bite back at him, he manages. He swallows down the words whenever you unintentionally give him an opening to tell you about the news of him going abroad, and just settles for holding your hand.

He could wait more because telling you now wouldn’t be the right time, now when you’re on your day-off as you’re close to wrapping up your current project before moving to the bigger, more exhausting one; not now when you have a time of reprieve to spend with your family before taking on the biggest project of your career to date.

Jungkook hums to himself as he looks down on Hwayoung who has a tiny shopping cart to herself, her strikingly round eyes that she got from him (Hwayoung looks more like him the older she gets) looking up to his own.

“Hi, pretty girl,” he lulls, mumbling loudly enough for only her to hear. “You’d understand if appa left for awhile, right?”

“Left?” she questions, holding up her left hand at the mention yet she reels at his query, brows furrowing as she seems to digest the question. “Why?”

“Yup. That’s your left. Good job, baby,” Jungkook praises, the knot in his throat growing when he looks to his daughter who looks confused at the sudden query, again, that came out of nowhere. “You would, won’t you?”

Hwayoung hums because she doesn’t quite understand, but that’s the thing that Jungkook fears most — she’s young and smart and although he wants to use those facts to his advantage, he realizes that Hwayoung being the age that she is in now could also prove him to be dispensable.

Jungkook likes being needed, but he’s much too afraid of the possibility that Hwayoung won’t even recall him as soon as he leaves.

Your husband’s snapped out of his reverie when you go downstairs with a skip in your step, the tell-tale mischievous tone to your voice already predicting that Hwayoung would make the two of you chase after her in the backyard all day. “What are the two of you plotting again?” you ask playfully, hands on your hips as Jungkook chuckles at the sight of his two girls.

“Nothing!” Hwayoung giggles, the word slipping out of her seamlessly as she even shakes her hands fervently, accustomed to what you mean exactly with your tone of voice. She’s young and bright and you see so much of Jungkook in her, even if Jungkook would argue otherwise.

Jungkook’s dazed this morning with the way his gaze locks in from far away, his bottom lip bit between his teeth more often than not as if he’s always at war with himself.

“You okay, Kook?”

“Mhmm. Couldn’t be better,” he hums half-heartedly, his lips grazing your temple as he guides you to sit down on the carpet with him. “You finally slept for more than eight hours. That’s good,” he says as an afterthought, the pauses in between his words growing in distance as his gaze is fixated on everything but you.

Jungkook looks at your daughter who’s now pushing Miso around the house in her shopping cart, and while your cat (who’s always seemed to hate your husband) looks more than pleased at being played with, she meows to Jungkook and only at him with a hiss at the end of her spiel as if in warning — as if Jungkook is guilty of something that only the two of them know about.

Almost as if out of everyone in the room, it’s only your cat who knows that Jungkook’s lying.

Jungkook can wait, but he’s certain that he can’t wait any longer because if his brain is unoccupied for long enough, he’ll start to hear Miso cursing at him through her yowls.

“Hwayoung doesn’t look like she needs you any less,” you say gently, your line of sight following Jungkook’s as he tenses at your words.

“Oh,” he sighs, jaw grinding down to a halt. “Right."

Your words seemingly came out of nowhere, even if the both of you know deep down that they’re influenced by his impulsive thoughts from last week.

“You can say the same for me,” you add, not as an afterthought, but as a lesser-known fact that Jungkook seems to forget every now and then.

There’s a weight in his chest because all of a sudden, Jungkook can’t wait anymore. The itch in his mind has already been scratched too much that it had already bled and scabbed.

There’s a weight in his chest that reminds him he can’t wait anymore, because in hindsight, the weight of him and everything that comes with him settles on his shoulders.

Maybe, Jungkook doesn’t want to be needed as much.

( ♡ )

Jungkook drops the news on you while you’re folding laundry.

He was meant to go for sincere but the way the words leave him, right when you’re in the middle of folding Hwayoung’s pajamas that she’s about to overgrow in the soonest, it sounds as if he’s been dying to tell you; now that he has, he sounds beyond relieved.

“Namjoon offered me a script,” he announces, taking the pajamas from you to put in his pile as he sees your eyes widen, the remnants of the heavy mascara they used on you on set awhile ago highlighting your surprise. “He wants me to produce.”

“What?” you punctuate, tilting your head as you try to make sense of what Jungkook’s saying. You know he’s speaking and you’re familiar with said words; you just never expected for them to be compacted in the same sentence, meaning the way that he makes it out to be. “Kim Namjoon, as in the producer for In Terms of Eternity?”

He chirps at that, posture straightening as he tries to jog your memory. “Yeah. You’ve worked with him before and introduced us, then turns out Jin’s also a friend of his and-…"

“I mean I know Namjoon and that you’re friends with him, Jungkook,” you interrupt, trying to reel yourself in as you’ve lost your focus trying to fold Hwayoung’s clothes and talk to your husband at the same time. “But I didn’t know you were that close for him to ask you to produce something for him.”

Jungkook doesn’t completely crash from the high he’s in over finally telling you the news, but there’s that spike that flashes briefly over his face, the frown on his lips letting on more than he shows.

“What’s that supposed to mean?"

You sigh at the impossible position the both of you are in, the words that try to line themselves up in your temple being no match to the way they translate out-loud. “It means nothing. I’m just… surprised that he’d ask you to be a producer for his script, that’s all. It came out of nowhere.”

Jungkook recoils at that, a stubborn brow raised as he tries to keep his composure. “Because you don’t think I’m capable of being a producer?”

“That’s not what I’m saying,” you inhale sharply, gripping a random article of Hwayoung’s clothing beside you to pace yourself. “Namjoon’s.. big. He’s established, and well, you’ve never become a producer before.”

“And you have?” Jungkook digs, even if it’s unnecessary to do so, and the way his face falls at the forthcoming regret that creeps up to him lets you know that he thinks so too.

“Jungkook,” you try again, quirking your lips to the side as you try to manage with the pace he’s set you up on. “I’m just surprised, that’s all. This is all new to me. All new to you, even. If anything, it’s nice that Namjoon trusts you a lot.

“He does. We’re close,” he nods, clearing his throat as he feels that the both of you could move on to the other phase of the news you had interrupted him at. “As a matter of fact, we’re taking it on a global scale.”

Jungkook doesn’t get why your face falls.

He doesn’t get why your shoulders rise and fall, not in relief, but out of controlled tension that threatens to pour over.

“What?”

“The script. The film,” he smiles, trying to get you to finish his sentence and connect the dots together but to no avail. “It’s… it’s — we have to film in the US for a few months.”

“What?” you repeat, the knot in your throat tangling up more and more hesitance in you the longer it stays there.

“I said, we have to-…”

“No, I heard what you said,” you interrupt, jaw clenching tightly as you try to grasp everything Jungkook has said.

You don’t get why Jungkook’s smiling.

You don’t get why he’s completely at ease and only in confusion as he sees you piece everything out.

“Then what’s the matter?”

“Kook, all of this is new. Everything you’ve just said is and will be new,” you chuckle humorlessly, running your hand through your hair in frustration as you try to relax. “I’m happy for you, believe me, but Jungkook, what you’re saying is serious. It’s a lot to take in,” you pause, eyes wide as you repeat the words to yourself. “You. Producing. In the US, of all places, a-and for months.”

There’s not one exact emotion that runs through you because the longer that Jungkook looks at you, ecstatic, while you’re weighing what he’s just said like a bag of bricks — you feel even more conflicted.

Your husband wrings his hands together, nervously smiling at you as if he’s asking for permission, but the both of you know that his mind’s already set. He thinks the opportunity of producing a short film that’s been drafted by his friend is a once-in-a-lifetime thing, eager to take off even if he’s had no experience at all in the industry.

“I don’t know, baby. It’s just been so long since I got this excited and alive, y’know? It’s a nice change of pace and I get to do something nice-…”

“Isn’t being with your daughter nice?” you ask abruptly, unable to mask the conflict that’s been brewing in your mind ever since Jungkook pulled you aside to talk. You feel hesitant; disconnected even from wrapping your head around his wording.

Even convincing yourself that you’re just spent from working sunrise to sundown doesn’t work. No matter how hard you try, Jungkook’s tone remains as is.

“Y/N,” he sighs, lips in a tight line as he screws his eyes shut. “Don’t start.”

“I’m not starting anything, Jungkook,” you grit, crossing your arms in defense. You feel guarded more than ever, not because you’re the one whom he’s pertaining to, but because your Hwayoung is involved and you won’t sit around for it. “It’s just that when you put it like that, it sounds like taking care of Hwayoung is a chore.”

You used to be sure awhile ago that you were seeing double because in between memorizing scripts and going from schedule to schedule without any time to rest in between, you’ve been worried sick because Jungkook hadn’t texted you the whole day. You were shocked enough to come home to your daughter playing by herself downstairs (with Miso watching her the whole time), even more-so when you saw Jungkook engrossed in a highly-enthusiastic phone call.

Jungkook sighs as if talking to you completely exhausts him, pinching his nosebridge before muttering under his breath. “Like you’re one to talk.”

“Excuse me?” you blink in surprise, tilting your head in sheer confusion. You’re about to shrug it off but he does that thing again, the one where he almost rolls his eyes at you but realizes it at the last minute.

“Nothing.”

“Say that again, Jungkook.”

“My god,” Jungkook groans, throwing his head back. He runs his hands through his hair frustratedly, sucking in a rushed breath. He looks straight at you when he gives his grievance. “I’m just saying! Why do you get to live out your dream but I don’t?”

“This is my job,” you bite back instantly, the second it took for you to digest his words being enough time for him to groan again. “If it were up to me, do you think I’d work six days a week? Do you not know how much it kills me to stay away from my family?”

You’re at a loss for words, the tiny bit of insecurity you have being dug up once again. You feel guilty because you actually don’t — you know to yourself that you still dedicate so much of yourself to Jungkook and Hwayoung even if you work full-time.

Jungkook chokes up a laugh in front of your face.

“Then quit your dream if you’re so miserable.”

Your jaw clenches quickly in annoyance, unable to retain the disbelief that builds up in your chest. “My dream is my job! It’s why we’re living this life in the first place, Jungkook! Your dream is this project that was pitched to you like what, two weeks ago?”

“Can I not live my life the way that I want to?” he asks exaggeratedly, eyes wide in defense. “Why am I only your husband and why am I only Hwayoung’s dad? Why can’t I go to the US a-and try things out? Why can’t I be free from all this even for just a while?”

Your mouth falls apart at that, your moment of shock simultaneously being Jungkook’s instance for guilty. He wants to reel it in right then and there, but the small part of his pride grows to hold him back.

“Do we hold you back that much?” you whisper, the headache that has been building in your head since this morning shrinking to the size of Jungkook’s words. “What are you getting so angry for? I’m not saying no. I’m asking you why you’re so hellbent on suddenly leaving to do this.”

A large part of you, if not all, feels more disappointed than angry. Hwayoung has not and should never be an afterthought for the both of you yet Jungkook brings her up with you like mere variables.

You can grasp the fact that being a parent is a full-time job like yours yet what you can’t get a hold of is your husband’s apprehension; his sudden need of pursuing something beyond your family.

“Because I’m scared, Y/N,” Jungkook whispers, exhaling heavily. “I’m scared that this is all what life could ever be for me.”

It’s only when you’re completely silent that he comes back to the severity of his words, the tension that’s been building up in him breaking the moment that you break eye contact with him.

“I’m sorry for being your wife.”

“Baby, that’s not-…” Jungkook tries to correct himself, hot on your heels as you get up from your seat on the couch. You’re not even speeding up yet he catches you just as urgently, the hold he has on your arm doing little to put you at ease.

“And I’m sorry for making you a dad.”

“Y/N, sweetheart, I’m-…”

“You should do this project if you really want to,” you quip, back still turned to him as you enter the bedroom. Jungkook noticeably stops in his tracks, the furrow in his brows fading because you’ve put him on whiplash.

“What?”

“You’ve held down the fort while I was out being the breadwinner. It’ll be nice for you to do your own thing,” you smile tightly, eager to sleep on the whole thing just so you don’t stay hung-up for too long.

“What about Hwayoung? What about your film? They want it to be an entry for the Academy, right?” he asks in concern, different from the worry he had awhile ago when he thought you were against him leaving.

You nod, easily shrugging despite the weight on your shoulders. “I’m her mom, of course. She’s gonna come first. And for the film, I think I can still do it. I’ll juggle them both if I have to.”

Jungkook nods, eyes set on the floor. He didn’t think this far at all.

“Do you want to hire a nanny? I know a friend.”

“I’ll pass. I don’t trust nannies.”

There’s an overwhelming silence that engulfs the both of you, the white noise machine in your nightstand unable to fill it completely. Jungkook looks at the ceiling while you look at Hwayoung who’s sprawled in the middle of your bed, clutching Miso like a teddy bear — she already fell asleep waiting for the both of you.

“I didn’t mean what I said awhile ago, I’m sorry. It came out the wrong way,” Jungkook apologizes after some time, hand darting out to hold yours while you only hover above your vanity, taking off all of your jewelry except for your wedding ring.

“When do you leave?” you ask, still unable to meet his gaze.

“Next week,” he clears his throat. “When do you start filming?”

You nod, coming into terms that Jungkook would leave no matter what you say. “Next week.”

You’re arranging the covers when your husband tries to hold you again, voice strained and rushed. “Y/N, I really am sorry. I love being your-…”

“Shh,” you interrupt, pursing your lips. “Hwayoung’s sleeping.”

( ♡ )

You asked for a day off.

You’ve rarely ever asked for them throughout your entire career because you were built on the mindset that at the end of the day, you’re also an employee no matter what gig you land. Be it the cameos you used to book with Yoongi or the titular characters you take from studio after studio, you’re still the employee who had worked her way up fairly.

You didn’t ask for it during that instance when you fell sick after back-to-back shoots because you didn’t want to waste anyone’s time. You didn’t ask for it when you woke up with the type of fatigue that settled in your body no matter how hard you closed your eyes or laid your head against the cushions.

You’ve never asked for it for your sake, but you’ve asked for a day off now because Jungkook’s leaving for a place you can’t come and go to as you wish.

Unlike your house or the hotels you book for him and Hwayoung to be at whenever you have to film out of town, Jungkook’s out of reach. He’s one call away, granted that your timezones match up and there’s a connection strong enough for it to continue without a hitch. He’s far from your grasp and he will be for months on end, and you don’t think you can ever stomach working on the same day he’s leaving.

“Are you seeing me off at the airport?” he asks during the car ride, voice audible enough for only you to hear and not Hwayoung who’s sprawled across both of your laps, sleeping soundly with her plushie that resembled Miso.

“I will, but I don’t think I can see you off near the gate. I can only manage up to here,” you answer honestly, willing yourself not to break down even if the both of you are still in the car, away from any prying eyes of the media that lurks outside. “So can Hwayoung,” you add, a large part of you being grateful that she’s asleep when Jungkook has to leave so neither of you would hear her cries.

Jungkook sees that hesitance in you, the same kind that softens him into fragments.

“It’ll only be for awhile, okay? Just for a few months,” he smiles tightly, rearranging his backpack next to him, the keyring that held Hwayoung’s second-favorite toy (not the ultimate favorite because she won’t ever let him take it) clattering loudly. “I love you,” Jungkook murmurs. “Do you know that?”

“Mhmm.”

“Say it back.”

You refuse to do so because saying it back feels finite, perhaps even forced, because although you love Jungkook, saying so at the moment only weighs you down as reality sinks in. “This is gonna be easy for us, right?"

“It’s not like we’ve never been in a similar set-up before,” he shrugs, the pout on his face casual as he tries to level with you.

“But this is different, Jungkook. This is beyond different. We have Hwayoung and now, we’re both working,” you stammer, chest rising and falling as you wrap your head around everything. “This— this isn’t Seoul to Jeonju. This isn’t a leave by day, come back by night type of trip. This is-…”

“You’re freaking out,” Jungkook interjects, his soft yet stern voice cutting through your thoughts as he lays a hand on your thigh, the platinum of his wedding band looking right up at you.

You surrender in defeat, not because you’re fighting with your husband, but because there’s simply no other answer he could ever conjure for you as to why this is happening.

“Why aren’t you? Why am I the only one scared?” you whisper.

“You’re not supposed to be.”

“Of course. It’s not like you— we put everything on the line,” you clear your throat, looking down on your shoes as you convince yourself. You ignore how you’re still not entirely aware of what’s with Jungkook’s project, other than the fact that Namjoon’s the screenwriter, all in favor of giving you a semblance of sanity before Jungkook leaves you and Hwayoung. “Right?”

( ♡ )

You wonder if Jungkook already ate breakfast.

You wonder if he ate the supposedly excellent in-flight meal that comes with first-class tickets, or if he ate the ramen he’s always had a penchant for eating especially during your trips, whether by land, sea, or air. You wonder if he’s grumpy with the altitude and the way he has to pop his ears ever so often, along with the way he always seems to be too long for airplane seats turned into beds.

You call but Jungkook doesn’t answer, even if you know he’ll never not purchase in-flight wifi because he’d rather knock himself out than have to read a book or something of the sort. You message, but then again, your husband doesn’t answer, even if you know he’ll much rather reply via text than to record a voice note because he’s shy with people hearing him in public spaces, albeit closed.

Hwayoung waits patiently beside you, swinging her legs back and forth on the couch as Miso stays up with her. She should’ve been in bed half an hour ago but you let her stay up with you, all in the pursuit of getting Jungkook to respond.

“Appa?” she asks again after a minute of you trying for her dad but through another app, her pout reminding you of Jungkook’s who’s unreachable.

You try not to frown in front of her, leveling yourself as you settle for kissing her forehead to cover up the sigh that originates deep from your chest.

“Not yet, Young-ie.”

.

.

.

There’s no text from Jungkook when you wake, but there is a picture of him in the buffet of the private lounge he’s staying at during his layover.

Atleast Jungkook did eat breakfast and Hwayoung was able to sleep without him (the first of what you dread is many), nevermind the dull thrum in your chest in Jungkook’s absence.

( ♡ )

Hwayoung's been behaved the whole time you were on set.

With Jimin prioritizing his voluntary role of being a babysitter to your daughter over his position of being a manager to you, you became instantly comforted at the reassurance that you're not in this situation alone.

It's only been a week since you started working right after Jungkook left, his absence rearranging every system you've previously had in place. You do your very best to have Hwayoung still thriving, and even just the reminder that you are succeeding at being the only present parent for the meantime melts all of your fatigue away.

Your trailer's more equipped for her than it is for you, the space apparently reminding Hwayoung of home so much that it's enough to make her remind you that Miso should go join the both of you sometime. Your dressing room's always been hers, and so has been the affection of everyone close to you.

“I take my role of godfather very seriously.”

Yoongi explains even if you haven't asked him anything. In fact, you weren't talking to begin with. It's not in his nature to talk for the sake of talking (that's Jungkook's), but even with Hwayoung in his arms and you still being lost in your thoughts, he can't help but to feel concerned.

“I can tell," you snicker, finally taking notice of the sight in front of you. The earpiece that was previously on Yoongi is now slung over Hwayoung's shoulder, obviously too big on her. She wanted it as an accessory (it reminds her of the toy stethoscope she'd put on Miso as a collar) and with Yoongi being himself, he can't bring himself to say no.

Your shooting day's nearly over and although today wasn't as long as your previous record of hours on end, you already seem exhausted. Yoongi, of all people, knows what scenes wear you out. You hated doing monologues as a rookie and still despise monologues (but with random, out-of-place advertisements in between) as a veteran — you’ve done neither today.

"What's with the frown?" he asks gently, not only because Hwayoung’s been quiet for the past two minutes and she’s getting groggy, but also because if he were to ask you any louder, he feels as if you’d break.

"It's nothing," you answer automatically, looking at Hwayoung to ground yourself. "Just usual family things, I guess."

"Trouble in paradise?" Yoongi asks with a chuckle, abruptly stopping his fit of amusement when he gets goosebumps starting from the tail of his spine. He instantly recognizes it as deja vu. "I've asked you this before, haven't I?"

The realization doesn’t hit you until he points it out.

"Mhmm," you hum absent-mindedly, playing with the hem of your dress. “I don't think the problem now is anything like how it was before, though."

One night several years ago, you and Yoongi were sat side-by-side in the booth of a club, the heartbreak you had over what Jungkook’s done (and haven’t, at the time) being the wedge between you.

Now, Yoongi’s standing in front of you while you’re sat down, your daughter with Jungkook in his arms.

“Me neither. I don't know how you and Jungkook can encounter any problem worse than last time, to be honest," he chuckles, shaking his head at the recollection of the hell you’ve been through. "Also, I think I can say that because I literally don't know what's going on with you. But if you do tell me-!"

"You're so nosy,” you snort, the brief moment of playfulness welcome because your head aches the longer that you dwell over your worries.

"I can be the judge to see if what you're going through now is worse than before," Yoongi shrugs to fake nonchalance, unaware that you’re gasping in awe until you kick him lightly in the shin.

Hwayoung’s asleep in his arms.

"She's never did that with anyone before," you murmur, fishing for your phone to take a picture, but not before quickly skimming to see if Jungkook’s sent you any messages; he hasn’t. “She only either sleeps in mine or Jungkook's arms. Not for my parents, not for my in-laws. Just me and him."

Yoongi smiles proudly, stroking Hwayoung’s hair proudly. "What can I say? I'm godfather of the year."

He only sways her gently back and forth, rocking her with the patience and attention that remind you of Jungkook’s when Hwayoung was a newborn.

You’re calm and quiet to see her adjusting so well already, but you can’t help but to feel lost because you feel the exact opposite. No one’s gonna stroke your hair for you and tell you to take your time — those are Jungkook’s tasks alone, yet your grievances are also because of him.

"Jungkook's producing this short film in the US. It's by his friend," you mutter under your breath after some time in silence. Yoongi flicks his eyes up at you as if you’re talking about the weather, careful not to make you feel more conflicted than you already are. “You know… by Namjoon.”

"Since when was he into that?" he asks out of curiosity, eyebrows furrowed because he didn’t know that your opening line would ever transition to this point in the conversation. Yoongi catches a second wind the longer he processes your words, the scoff that leaves his lips making his bangs loose despite the hairspray on them. “Since when did Jungkook and Namjoon belong in the same sentence?”

"I don't know either.”

"So we're both producers now?" he snickers, the teasing already coming natural. "Nepo husband alert."

You roll your eyes in recognition, clearing your throat as soon as the laughter died between the two of you. “We got into this argument and I don't know, I-I realized I was being selfish for a moment because I didn't want him to go at first, you know?" you admit in full sincerity, exhaling the lump that forms in your throat. “He said he was afraid that this is everything he'll be. My husband, Hwayoung's dad. So on and so forth."

Yoongi only listens this time, giving the occasional hum there to remind you that he’s still there.

"And last night, he, uh, he forgot to call," you gulp, already feeling the weight of your worries settle in your stomach. "The call wasn't even for me. It's for Hwayoung because he promised he'll still read her whatever she wants."

The three of you cherish that time together because normally, it happens as soon as you get home from work. Hwayoung’s long graduated from storybooks and has now branched out to the most ridiculous texts that Jungkook indulges her with nonetheless — from the ingredient list at the back of milk cartons, and all the way to Reddit threads of how cats find their way back home to owners.

"He's been secretive about the whole thing and I-I… I do that too with my projects, I get it. But only at first because I'm literally bound to an NDA," you stammer, pinching your nosebridge to get past the frustration. “I’m just-…!" you give up, admitting the truth. "I did some snooping."

"And?" Yoongi prompts, tilting his head in anticipation.

"I think he's been secretive because the main lead's Eunsu."

Yoongi recoils at that, so much so that it almost wakes up Hwayoung.

"Eunsu? As in Park Eunsu?" he repeats, the scowl on his face getting deeper the more that you stay indifferent. “Eunsu as in your nemesis?"

You relent, the mention of her finally hitting close.

"Nemesis sounds a little childish."

Yoongi scoffs immediately, rolling his eyes at your correction. “I mean yeah, because people keep pitting her against you when she doesn't even come close," he shrugs easily, make you tut in warning. "What? I'm just saying what everybody's been thinking."

To know that you can still confide in Yoongi no matter what comforts you — what doesn’t is that this time around, your gut feeling’s stronger than it had been the last time.

"I hope I'm wrong."

"I hope so too," he exhales, shaking his head in disbelief. "What kind of asshole sleeps with his wife's enemy?"

"Don't put that out there,” you grumble, the unintentional yet weird arrangement of words making you dizzy.

"Sorry. It's a metaphor, dummy," Yoongi surrenders, clearing his throat. "Okay. Retake. What kind of husband produces a film featuring his wife's rival?

"Hopefully not mine."

( ♡ )

It takes little effort to love you.

Loving you specifically doesn’t have to be hard.

Jungkook thinks that loving you isn’t hard when you serve as the peace to his otherwise hectic and turbulent mind. You manifest into the comfort he looks for in all seasons, be it the heat pack you wordlessly put in his coat pocket or the scrunchie you put around his wrist no matter the weather whenever his hair got too long.

You don’t text him at every hour of the day whether you were working or not, but you’ve made it a point to always check up on him multiple times even if the both of you are at home, going as far to randomly waking up in the night to pause your breathing and check up on his with a hand on his chest.

It’s easy love — one that could be grasped by everyone because as the world has proved to him time and time again, you’re easy to fall with and for.

You may not coo and awe at every single thing he utters, but the adoration behind your eyes always makes him warm from the inside because you held onto him, no matter how anticlimactic his stories could be.

Neither you and Jungkook are easy, that much he knows.

He knows it because although it’s never been his intention to come home late during his allotted short break between filming (it’s disguised as a break even if he only came back to take care of work-related matters personally), you make it known that you’re irked with him for every other reason.

He knows that you aren’t easy because for the past three weeks he’s been gone, you’ve reiterated twice in the last hour alone how you’ve asked him again and again who will star in his short film. You’ve asked Jungkook repeatedly to give you details outside of Namjoon and the vaguest bits he could ever give you, establishing the fact that he isn’t even bound to an NDA.

It’s the persisting barrage of questions in your head that bothers you without a single break. It’s the hovering feeling of doom above your head because having no answers to any of them, on top of Jungkook closing himself off with or without the physical distance between the two of you and being Hwayoung’s sole caregiver, that your patience ultimately thins.

Your annoyance towards your husband is clearly obvious and it bothers him to the point of frustration. Jungkook’s been convinced since last week that if he just dodged your questions for long enough and blamed it on the connection of your call, he wouldn’t have to answer to you; he wouldn’t have to explain the fine details of the project he’s kept from you.

If he had only avoided you for long enough, you would’ve forgotten about the rumors surrounding Namjoon’s upcoming screenplay that had been leaked to the press, and the roster of actresses thought out to be the main lead of his short film.

If he had only ignored your pleas for long enough, he would have never succumbed to the preliminary guilt that comes with lying to you under the impression that he’s only being protective, pushing him to drink until his vision spins — enough for him that when he admits the truth to you, your face of heartbreak directed at him isn’t as anguishing.

“Fine, fuck it! Since you’re so nosy, yes. Eunsu is my main lead, there! She’s my muse!” Jungkook just about yells, breathless from the burn of alcohol in his throat that spreads all the way to his chest, and from the back and forth he’s been going at with you for the last hour.

“Why didn’t you tell me in the first place?!” you retort, fists clenching at your sides as the thought of Jungkook with Eunsu, with her of all actresses, in a foreign place at almost every minute of the workday irking you.

“Would it have made a difference? You’d still be angry at me,” he rolls his eyes, placing a hand on his hip as he tries to stabilize his gaze on you.

“And even then, you wouldn’t do anything about it, right? Because that’s just your nature, Jungkook,” you scoff, your dig at him being incredibly low yet you steel your pride, unwilling to back down at the thought that Jungkook’s been lying to you for three weeks– perhaps even longer.

He presses a tongue to his cheek as you pertain to the past loud and clear, the sarcastic nod he gives you making your breathing tremble.

“Why? Why does it have to be her?” you try again, this time with your jaw clenched so your anger won’t flare up because you’ve been dying to have a decent explanation from Jungkook for weeks.

“Why can’t it be her?” he counters. “B-because she’s what, she’s your rival or something? You’re jealous? Bitter?”

The knot in your chest tightens, the recall you have of the woman who had sabotaged you repeatedly when you were still a rookie putting a metallic taste on your tongue. She’s hindered you in ways that not even Yoongi could explain fully despite being the closest friend to you in the industry, the vitriol you’ve had for Eunsu in the past reviving back to life.

You have no words except for the fact that begs to be acknowledged without a single syllable.

“I’m your wife, Jungkook,” you exhale shakily, the gravity of it seemingly not enough for him because he refuses to use it as a reason to get on your side.

“Don’t you think I know that? Don’t you think everybody knows that by now?” Jungkook spits. “When I’m producing my film with Eunsu, I don’t want to be your husband, Y/N! I’m sick of it,” he seethes. “Eunsu has nothing to do with me. Why should I fight your battles for you? Why do I have to carry your grudges for something that doesn’t even concern me?”

Jungkook’s the drunkest he’s ever been in his life, yet he utters the clearest words you’ve ever heard him say.

“This is showbiz, Y/N. It’s inevitable for you to get caught up with shit.”

“You’re talking as if being my husband and being Hwayoung’s dad is a chore.”

“Because maybe it is!” Jungkook bursts with a cry, the tears that spring out of his eyes momentarily blinding him. “Because maybe, I’m fed up trying to be sickeningly devoted to you all the time.”

There’s something akin to white, hot, searing pain that spreads across your chest all the way to your temple, the tremble of your lips not enough for Jungkook to realize that you’re on the verge of sobbing.

“Sometimes I hate this. I… I-I hate this life I’m living because of you, Y/N,” Jungkook whispers. “I hate how you’re so, so perfect in juggling everything. I hate how I could spend an hour just convincing Hwayoung to eat a single carrot and you come in the room, and she finishes the bowl with a smile on her face. I-I hate how you never complain whenever you need to do late night feedings after a long day because I’m already snoring. I hate how with or without work, you’re still just—…” he stills, looking at you with a distraught gaze. “You’re still so content. You’re still able to be yourself like you’ve always been.”

There’s no words left in you; no thought at all that could ever pick you up from the ground and gather yourself the way you’ve always had whenever you and Jungkook had felt the furthest from each other.

“Jungkook,” you sniffle, even if he waves you off half-heartedly. “I’m sorry if-…”

“There it is. There it fucking is again!” Jungkook whines, foot agitatedly stomping against the floor as he pulls at his hair. “You’re apologizing for being so perfect in life that it’s making me feel bad!”

“But I’m not! I’m far from it, what the hell are you talking about?” you rasp, the sarcastic laugh that goes past your lips making his ears ring. “I’m sorry if it seems that way but I’m telling you myself that everything is not perfect the way you make it out to be. I’m sorry because it makes you feel bad, but if anything-…”

Jungkook raises a finger at you, his jaw tightening the longer he stews in displacement.

“Don’t. Don’t. Don’t tell me how content you are with everything despite being exhausted, or how you juggling everything is worth it. Don’t tell me how good of a dad I am."

“Then what can I say to make it lighter for you, Jungkook? What can I say that won’t make you resent me?” you grit in surrender, chest falling so lowly, you’ve forgotten to breathe for a long second. “Do you hate the life that we’re living now so much that you can’t even look at me?”

Love isn’t always a matter of ease and although it’s always stuck to you, you prove now that Jungkook coming home to you at this instance, in this light, that he makes love the most difficult thing.

“Do you hate the life that I gave you so badly?”

“I don’t,” he answers, mouth dry as his vision spins. “Sometimes. Tonight, though — maybe I do. It comes and goes.”

“Then what can we do about it?” you whisper, your vision hazy as you look at him. “Where do we go from here?”

“It’s getting late,” Jungkook only whispers, unwilling to look at the bed you share. “I have an early flight tomorrow.”

[lcriedlastnight]

first couple of dates reader is super reserved and shy and Lando is just unabashedly flirting in the most attractive way ever

tysm anon, my first lando request! ilysm <3 also shy reader resonates so well with me for some reason.

tw: fem!reader, swears, not spell checked, lmk if anything else.

w/c: 1.8k

you found out on the first date how confident in himself lando was. you knew (and liked) how he was just unapologetically himself at every point in time. it was definitely a green flag of yours. only sometimes it was a little much to handle.

this next date lando had been very traditional, seeing as it was your second date. he had decided to take you to one of his favourite restaurants in monaco. he left you with very strict instructions over text, the day before, to dress as fancy as you possibly could. so you did just that and went last minute dress shopping with your friend. it all being her idea of course.

she finds this lovely blush pink dress that in her words “is just so you” so you get it and wear it to dinner.

lando was already at the restaurant waiting outside for you. he had offered to pick you up but your friend wanted to stay and help you get ready, you didn’t agree easily though. you’ve never seen anyone’s mouth drop open as quickly as you seen lando’s open when you got out of your friend’s car. this, obviously, brings a bright red blush to your cheeks, complimenting the dress even more in lando’s opinion.

“hi.” you mumble, shyly. not used to a gaze as piercing as lando’s.

“hey, pretty girl! don’t you look stunning?” lando grins happily as he addresses you with such lovely pet names with such ease it makes you melt. he sticks a hand out to link it with yours then holds them both high above your head. “give me a spin then, honey.”

you do as he asks and spin around, showing him every angle. when you face lando again his smile seems to be even bigger than when you first came, if that was even possible. it looked like it was sore with how hard he was smiling.

“god, now i feel underdressed. when i said fancy i didn’t mean princess of monaco fancy!” lando jokes. you know it’s a joke, a compliment even. a lovely, sweet compliment. and if you were a normal girl, you would’ve giggled sweetly and thanked him, then you would both be on your way to sit down. but you weren’t a ‘normal’ girl. you were a bit shyer than most. so instead you avoid eye contact with lando and splutter out what could be picked together to make some sort of thank you.

even though it’s the second date, lando seems to understand you already and instead of pointing out your embarrassment, he pushes it to the side and holds his arm out for you to hold.

“c’mon, let’s go inside. you must be starving. i heard that beauty makes you hungry.” you were not surviving this. where was this lando on the first date?

the waiter helps you both find your table, which of course has the most gorgeous view of the water. you sit across from each other and sit in a comfortable silence, scanning the menu’s. your eyes dart across, reading all these dishes, none of them too fancy. another thing for you to be shy about, was the fact that you were an extremely picky eater. you were very wary of restaurant or even food related dates to begin with, but lando is a very difficult person to say no to.

“d’you know what’re getting?” lando asks from across the table. you think he’s been staring at you for a while.

“i’m not sure yet.” you reply, a little quieter than lando, still loud enough to hear over the usual bustle of a restaurant. you tell him this in the hopes he doesn’t ask about your food preferences.

it’s like lando can read your mind though as he asks. “are you alright? do you not like any of the food? we can go somewhere else if you like?” the way he switches from flirty to caring in seconds makes your head spin.

“no! no. you went through all this trouble to come here. and it’s your favourite restaurant.” you refuse his sweet offers.

“so you don’t like any of the food? are you a picky eater?” lando asks, the smile returning to his almost as quickly as it left. his voice not menacing or teasing as he asks you the dreaded question.

you can feel your body heat up at the question, and before you can even try and scramble your brain for an answer, probably denying it lando speaks up.

“if you are it’s okay, honey. i can ask the waiter for anything you want. even if i wasn’t a regular here, i’m sure they would do it for a girl as pretty as you.” and he was right back into that flirty ways from before.

“right,” you nod, purposefully ignoring his compliment. “thank you. i know it’s childish but i only really eat chicken.” you try to joke about it but it comes out awkward and forced. lando laughs anyway.

you both make small talk until with waiter comes back to take your orders. lando doesn’t even give you a chance to speak to the waiter to try and explain yourself before he’s asking if you could get some chicken nuggets and fries. the waiter nods, like it’s no problem. because it isn’t.

“and to drink?” the waiter asks.

lando shifts his gaze to you. his eyes wandering yours, wondering if you were alright to speak to the waiter and order for yourself.

“d’you like wine too, honey? or we could just have water?” lando offers, trying to help you out, which you appreciate so much.

“water is good, please.” you ask politely.

“two glasses of water of us then!” lando tells the waiter as the menu’s are collected and the orders are given to the kitchen.

you wait until you know the waiter is gone before you speak to lando.

“you didn’t need to get water if you didn’t want to. you could’ve gotten wine.” your thumbs dance with each other on top of the table. lando’s reach across to pull them apart from each other and hold them in his own, thumbs swiping gently across your soft skin.

“i know. i just wanted to get what you got. makes you like me more if we like the same things.” lando teases. you laugh a little and it looks like someone has just told lando he’s won his first championship.

“i’m thinking of becoming a comedian. i’m going to quit racing.” he tells you. the conversation switch gives you whiplash.

“what, really? why? i don’t think you should quit. you’re really good.” you try to compliment him back. the boy’s cheesy grin is the greatest payment for that moment of bravery.

“i’m gonna quit so i can make you laugh every minute of every day because your laugh is my new favourite sound in the whole world.” how does he even think of this shit, you think to yourself, through a wide smile and rosy cheeks (once again.)

you both chat away throughout the dinner. lando sending about a million and a half flirty comments and pet names throughout, each one sending you into a tizzy every time. lando just watches your cheeks warm and that shy smile grace your lips.

once you both had ate and payed the bill, lando suggests just walking around for a while.

“basic, i know. i don’t think any date idea could compare to how wonderful you are.” he sighs, jokingly as if his idea actually pained him. of course this causes you to fluster again and hide your face.

lando only laughs and grabs your hand, taking you a walk along the water. you open up to him, more than the previous dates and late night texts. the boy is quiet as you talk, telling him about your childhood and what it was like for you growing up. he asks you questions seeing the way yours eyes twinkle underneath the stars as you perk up even more at the mention of your childhood dog.

“you’re so pretty, honey.” lando admits in a hushed whisper, like it was a secret he was scared to tell and not a sentence he’s said about a hundred times tonight. you both had stopped at a nearby bench to watch the ocean.

before you can even get the chance to get embarrassed he asks “can i kiss you? please?”. and he sounds desperate, like you’re depriving him of the air he needs so badly to breathe properly.

so you nod your head shyly. lando’s hands are quick to trap your head in between them, holding you still as he leans in. this is yours and lando’s first kiss together and lando kisses you like you’ll break if he touches you any harsher. it’s the sweetest thing a boy has ever done in your entire life.

you tell him so once he’s reluctantly pulled away from you. his brows raise in surprise.

“guess i’m just gonna need to top this every date we go on then.” he leans in again because there’s no way he’s not using his free time with you now not kissing you. plus he just loves to see you flustered every time he pulls away.

and that was only the second date.

by the fifth date you had just about gotten your embarrassment under wraps when lando invites you to some mclaren event. he tells you it’s fancy dress but not to go dress shopping again as he’s gotten a tie that matches so well with the dress you wore on your second date. your surprised he remembered the exactly colour because when he turns up at you door, the shade match is perfect.

your halfway through the lovely charity event and lando has not stopped touching you the entire night. even when he has to stop to talk to his teammate, oscar or his team principal, andrea, he had his arm wrapped around your waist or resting on the small of your back. the feeling of his hand resting on your back made you feel like you were his.

you don’t talk much compared to lando, who yaps away all night. his number one topic of conversation being you. he talked about how you met to some random couple he’s never seen before. he rambled about how pretty you were to mclaren’s very own ceo, zak brown. you’re cheeks stay red the entire time, zak leaving after about ten minutes because he felt sorry for you and your embarrassment.

“how you doing, honey? you alright?” lando asks as he joins you at the bar. he’s been pulled away and promised you he’s join you in ten minutes. his hands snaking around your waist, their home for the night it seems.

“yeah, oscar and lily are lovely.” you smile at lando. “thank you for inviting me.”

lando beams back at you. “couldn’t do tonight without my girl, could i?”.

“your girl?” you ask shyly.

“if you wanna be” lando tried to ask casual but he genuinely thinks that if you don’t say yes, he would cry himself to sleep for the rest of the year.

you wrap your arms around him and hide in his chest. “my shy girl, hm?” lando mumbles into your hair.

[fruittt-punchhh]

what about a toji fic where the reader dominates him? She ties him up and teases the hell out of him and he’s pisseddddd, he wants to escape that rope so bad but he can’t, and when he DOES he goes feral. i feel like that’d be scrumptious 🤌🏻

everyone please let anon cook.

MDNI!! incredible smut ahead, this is your final warning.

WC: 4.8k

CW: Toji x reader. Breeding. Name calling. Teasing. Little bit of free use. Toji is a whiny begging mess?!?!? Smut smut smut.

“Hey babe?” You call from the kitchen of your shared apartment. There’s a few creaks in the ceiling above you as you hear who you assume to be Toji shuffling to his feet.

“Whaddya’ want?” Toji yells from the top of the stairs, not wanting to make the full commitment of coming down just yet.

“Could you come down here? I wanna talk to you,” you yell back before he’s hesitantly taking the first step down. He was nervous since your birthday was in a few days. He wanted to play the nonchalant type and then surprise you this weekend with a party full of friends, drinks, and music. He already had plenty of presents picked out, buying one for each day of the month.

You were nervous, too. Your birthday was in three days and while you’ve mentioned it on and off to your boyfriend, you were still scared he’d forget. He worked at odd hours of the night and you didn’t even know if he had to work on your birthday. Birthdays weren’t usually a big deal for you, but you at least wanted him to acknowledge the day somehow.

“Hey, y/n, what’s up?” He says, heavy feet dragging the floor before he hugs you from behind.

You turn to face him, finding it a little difficult to escape his strong grasp.

“Remember that special day coming up soon?”

Oh god. Here you go. He wanted to act as if he had no idea, hoping to not spoil the surprise in case you asked if he made plans. But seeing that poor look in your eyes was enough for him to drop the façade.

“Of course baby doll, it’s your birthday. Why?”

Oh. So he did remember! Why has he led on like he didn’t?

“Well, it’s sort of embarrassing but I wanted to ask you somethin’. Figured you’d say no if it wasn’t my special day,” you admit, crossing all of your fingers and toes that Toji doesn’t laugh at your request and walk the other way.

“Shoot. Nothin’ to be embarrassed about, hun,” he says, putting a hand on his hip and the other on the counter, leaning into it while he studies your expression. You looked hopeful but scared, like a stray pup on the side of the road that just met their new owner.

“So ya’know how you like to tie me up sometimes when we…do it?”

How elementary.

“You mean when we fuck? Yeah, I like it quite a lot. Love seein’ you tied up on your back for me, ready to take me. If that’s all you want for your birthday don’t worry, I was plannin’ on doin’ that already, love,” he responds earnestly. You two didn’t use the ropes that often as Toji preferred using his own hands and arms as your restraints. But he always saw the way your face lit up when he tightened the rope around your wrists, corded nylon digging into your soft skin hard enough to leave marks for a few days.

“Well I was thinkin’ maybe we could do it like that but the other way around…?”

Jesus, if you weren’t blushing already, you sure were now. Toji always gets excited when you talk to him about anything remotely sexual. It seems as if a switch was flipped when you mentioned the ropes as he was now towering over you, green eyes peering into yours as he drinks in every word that leaves your lips.

“So tie you up and fuck you in doggy? We’ve done that before, ya’ just gotta’ ask, sweetheart. Use your words and be clear with me, you know how I feel about trying to read through your lil’ mind games you like to play,” he says with a smirk on his pretty face.

He grabs your hand in his, fingers interlocking as he rubs his thumb over yours as if you two were being purely romantic and thinking no kind of sinful thoughts.

You huff when he grabs your hand. You thought he’d catch on by now. You were never one to really take initiative in the bedroom. Toji always had to ask what you wanted and make you speak up if you mumbled too lowly. You were too embarrassed to voice your needs to him although it was something he could never get enough of.

“No, I-I don’t mean like that. I was thinking I could tie you up…?” You ask, nearly closing your eyes for fear of him laughing in your face.

He grips your hand tightly.

His other hand flies to your waist, large thumb pressing into your ribcage, hard.

His eyelids are lower, and his eyes quickly dart between your lips and your eyes.

Was he… mad? You couldn’t tell. When he got angry, he looked awfully similar to how he looked when you two were in bed together. A part of you found yourself slightly excited whenever he did get mad, losing yourself in his aggressive body language and taut figure.

“Oh. You wanna’ tie me up?” He removes his hand from yours, bringing the back of it up to your cheek as he brushes the hair out of your face.

“That’s what you’re all embarrassed about? You’re too cute. What’s gotcha’ wantin’ to take charge all of a sudden?”

Fuck it, you think. If there was a time to be honest, it was now.

“Well… I was watchin’ this video the other day. She had him tied up.. and it looked like he really liked it. Jus’ wanna make you feel good,” you admit, knowing the video you saw was much more explicit than your words let on.

“Make me feel good? On your birthday?” He asks.

He was trying to keep his cool as he pictures you finally taking control. He loved having the say-so in bed and he was more than happy to keep it that way. He liked to push your buttons and make you squirm, making you speak clearly when you asked him if he could eat you out or kiss your neck. But something about this scenario has him feeling red hot.

“I mean we d-don’t have to, I just thought it’d be fun to try… I even looked up knots I could do and stuff,” you beam, overly excited that he hadn’t shut you down the moment the words left your lips.

You were so precious. Doing research on a project you hadn’t even gotten approval for yet, overzealous at the slight chance he might say yes.

“Aw hun, look at you hittin’ the books. You think you could find some rope I can’t break out of?”

This conundrum had occurred to you, and you’d taken it upon yourself to run to the hardware store a few weeks ago to find some rope that was somewhat Toji-Grade.

“Maybe? I went to the store a while ago and found some I think might be good,” you respond as you watch the smirk leave his face.

He steps impossibly closer to you, now covering you completely in his shadow.

“If you’re extra good for me and you let me fuck you whenever I want, however I want for the next week, you have yourself a deal,” he says, quite excited to have you ready to use at his disposal as he pleases.

Holy shit. He actually said yes? All you had to agree to was a shit ton of sex for the next week? This was going to be your best birthday yet.

“O-Of course, baby,” you coo.

He picks you up by your thighs and puts you on the counter, attacking your neck with his lips, tongue, and teeth.

“How ‘bout we get started on that free use now then, huh doll?”

The day was finally here. You’d all eaten your cake, opened way too many presents, and the drinks were flowing. Most of your friends had left, only leaving a few stragglers that were currently looking for their belongings before their ride arrived.

You were starting to get very nervous. You had practiced a few of the knots that morning while Toji was out getting your cake, and you were sure you had the basic ones down. You had never practiced on a live model before, but you were hoping the glass of liquid courage you just finished would boost your confidence.

You wave the last of your friends goodbye, thanking them for coming. Toji had thrown one hell of a party. You twist the deadbolt to the left after you make sure your friends make it to their cars safely. You turn around to see Toji going upstairs.

“Where are you runnin’ off to?” You ask, hoping he hadn’t forgot about his promise.

Always so nosy.

“Don’t worry, I didn’t forget. Gotta shower first, get yourself ready baby,” he says, not even turning around as he reaches the top of the stairs.

You rush upstairs as soon as you hear the shower faucet running. You grabbed one of your kitchen chairs, trudging upstairs, trying not to hit the walls on either side of you.

You steady your breath as you place the chair on the hardwood. You grabbed the rope from your closet and took your party dress off to reveal your black lingerie underneath. You sit in the chair, tapping your foot wildly while you wait for your best present yet.

You hear the doorknob turn and you hop up, grabbing the rope tightly as you try to calm your nerves. You knew this wouldn’t be good for either of you if you half-assed it — the whole reason Toji made you fall apart when you two had sex was because of his confidence with his words and actions. You take a deep breath, reminding yourself that the more into it you were, the better it would be for your man.

He saunters into the office, droplets of water still beading off of his musculature while clouds of steam rise from his figure. All he had on his lower half was a short white towel, leaving next to nothing to the imagination. He lets out a whistle as he sees you dressed in your not-quite birthday suit.

He walks towards you, reaching his hands out to grab your waist and pull you in for a heated kiss.

Or so he thought.

You poke your finger against his burly chest, trying with all your might to push him back, though all you do is stop him in his tracks.

“Uh-uh sir, no touching. Sit down.”

He laughs at you, apologizing as soon as he saw the hurt look on your face.

“S-Sorry baby, didn’t think you’d be ready to start quite yet. This is gonna be hard for me ya’know, but I’ll try my best to act like how you do when we fuck, okay?” His reassuring words ease your worries, as you grab his hand and lead him to the chair.

You walk to the back of the chair, placing one hand on his buff shoulder, leaning down to whisper in his ear, “don’t call me baby. it’s ma’am and nothin’ else, yeah?” You ask, trying your best to channel whatever dominant nature you possessed.

Fuck. He told himself he wouldn’t like this. He needed to regain his composure before you got any bright ideas about dominating him more often. He mumbles back a low ‘yes ma’am’ as he watches a small tent form underneath his towel.

You start to unravel the rope, grabbing his large wrists and bringing them behind the chair before you’re wrapping the thick cord around them.

“What was that? Gonna’ have to speak up f’me,” you said, coining one of Toji’s phrases for your own.

Jesus. You were really laying it on thick.

“I said yes ma’am,” he growls, ashamed at how excited he was that the roles were reversed this time.

“Good boy,” you coo in his ears, noticing how his cock twitches as the sound of your voice.

You’ve wrapped the rope up and around his arms and the back of the chair, and while the first knot you tied around his wrists was shotty work at best, the rest were definitely suitable. You move your way to his front now, wrapping the rope underneath his broad pecs extra tight, loving how the rope accentuated his voluptuous figure. With each taut pull of the rope, his dick would spring up a few inches further.

“Won’t be needing’ this anymore, huh?” You ask as you snake your cold hands under the towel, pulling it off of him slowly as he raises his butt up to let you grab the rest of the fabric.

He huffs as he feels the cool air hit his member, a bead of precum at the tip revealing his love for the scenario he was in all too soon.

“Looks like somebody’s enjoying themselves,” you add, noticing just how excited he’s gotten since you two have started.

“Let me take care of you tonight, baby. I know you’re so stressed from work and you always take such good care of me. Wanna’ make you feel so good, yeah?” You say as you tie the last bit of rope around his ankles.

You were surprised he was being so silent about this. No protests, no sly remarks, no jokes at your expense. He was always so quick and cunning both in and out of the bedroom.

“Cat got your tongue?”

“No, just ready to get this shit over with s’all,” he scoffs, hoping you didn’t catch onto his bluff.

“No what?”

You were pushing him to his limits. He liked this, but his pride was being wounded with every word that left your pretty lips.

“No ma’am. Let’s hurry it up though, yeah? Been waitin’ for you to put that pussy on me all night,” and you can’t help but blush at his words. He took all the dominant energy you were feeling and turned it into submissiveness just with a sentence. You take a deep breath as you drop to your knees in front of him, ready to get the show on the road.

You glare up at him as you run your hands on top of his thighs, fingers splaying over the ropes holding him tightly. He smiles down at you, looking past his cock at your soft lips, aching for them to be wrapped around his leaking tip.

You finally reach the area Toji wanted your hands to be most, running your nail up the bottom of his long dick. He grunts at the contact, not anticipating just how much you wanted to tease him through this.

“So pretty f’me baby, you look so good all tied up when you’re not runnin’ that mouth,” you say, running your thumb on the underside of his tip before he bites his bottom lip.

You wanted to tease him plenty, sure, but you also had needs of your own that needed to be fulfilled, soon. You finally wrap your fingers around the base of his cock, and he was so thick you couldn’t even join your thumb to the rest of your fingers.

He drops his head back behind him, not realizing just how desperate he was for your touch. He’s cursing as you run your hand up his length, stopping to gather all the precum at the tip before you use it as lubrication.

You’re now teasing just the tip, rubbing your hand over and over it, overstimulating his most sensitive area just like he loved to do to your clit when he ate you out. The whiny moans he was emitting made your cunt ache with want. You reach your other hand down to play with your throbbing clit, moaning at how erotic this whole situation was.

“You like i-it too, bab — sorry, f-fuck,” he says before he’s even realizing he said it. He didn’t want to hear you chastise him for not calling him ma’am, but he couldn’t help but speak up when he saw your tiny hand rush down to your sweet pussy.

“What’d I tell you, huh? Am I gonna have to punish you?

He shakes his head with a fervor, responding with a firm “no ma’am”. He was so fucking whipped for you and if Shiu ever found out about this he would have to kill him. Absolutely nothing personal, just business.

You tell him he’s a good boy, wanting to reward him for being so quick to correct himself for you. You reach your head down before you lick his weeping tip so teasingly. He grunts, looking down at your pretty face as you take the full tip inside your wet heat.

“God, jus’ like that,” he whines, needing you to take more of him now.

You suck his tip harshly, pulling off with a loud pop!

“Don’t tell me what to do,” you command. You were all too eager as you cover your fingers in your lust, using it as lubrication to enter yourself (although you wish it was Toji’s fingers instead).

You take in more of him, hollowing your cheeks, using your free hand to stroke the rest of his massive length. You were hardly ever able to take him all the way down your throat, but the liquor helped you loosen up just a little bit more. You shove your head down until he reaches your throat, taking a deep breath before you remove your hand and push yourself almost all the way down. You swallow around him in your throat, trying your best to breath through your nose. Toji is squirming in the chair, so frustrated that he can’t grab a fistful of your hair and fuck your throat like you deserved.

“F-Fuck, takin’ all of me so well, doll,” he says, too lost in the warm wet walls of your throat to notice his mistake. He tries his hardest to buck his hips, making you gag around him before you’re pulling off of him much too quickly. He worries he pushed in too far before you’re sitting in his lap, so ready to scold him for slipping up one too many times.

You put one hand on his chin, running your finger over his bottom lip like he always did to you. You knew you looked far from intimidating right now, but you tried your best to keep up the act.

“That’s three times now baby. Guess I’ll have to punish you after all,” and boy did you have the perfect punishment in mind. You knew how difficult it was for him to keep his hands off of you the entire time, especially when you were reaching a hand down to continue touching yourself.

He tracks your every movement, panting while he watches you push two of your tiny fingers into yourself. He wouldn’t be able to last much longer like this. He knew your knot tying skills weren’t as practiced as his, and the ones you tied at his hands were loose from the start. He starts pulling on the rope more than he already was, hoping he can loosen the hold it had on his wrists to finally take you like he so desperately needed.

“You’re torturing me,” he says, making extra sure not to throw in a nickname like he usually would, “please just touch me, I’ll do anything,” he adds, really hoping you’d give in sometime soon.

You moan on top of him, leaning down to kiss his poor, over-bitten lips. He whines into the kiss, trying his best to be aggressive when all he could do is pull against the tight ropes and hope you take it easy on him.

“Anything, huh? Would you beg for it? I love when you get all needy for me. Beg and I’ll think about it, boy,” you tell him. You loved when he asked anything of you, just knowing that he wanted you had you absolutely melting for him.

He was passed the point of caring at this point. He was painfully hard, his red swollen tip leaking an obscene amount of precum. Watching you attempt to please yourself while he knew that he’d be able to make you cum in a minute with just his fingers was sending him.

“I’d do anything I swear. You don’t know how bad I need you. You look so fuckin’ good and I’m about to cum just watchin’ you. I know you want it, too, you still look so desperate f’me even though you’ve got this whole tough guy thing goin’ on,” he rambles, hoping what he said was enough to break you.

“Me? D-Desperate? I could just cum right here and be done with you, slut. You look like you’re about to explode j-just waitin’ for me,” you add, knowing he was about to fucking lose it.

The knot was so close to coming undone, but he didn’t want to let on as to was he was doing. He had to stop in his tracks once you reach a hand down to tug at his puffy nipple, cursing under his breath. You knew that was one of his most sensitive spots and you were too quick to use it to your advantage.

“I am, I promise I am. I’ll be such a good boy for you, I swear. Please just fuck me. Please I swear I’ll be good I don’t know what else to say just please fucking put it —“ he says as all the breath is ripped from his lungs. You had stood up at this point, turning around as you line up his cock with your puffy folds.

You sit down on him, wasting no time before bottoming out entirely. The stretch was so extreme, but you were much too desperate for him to fill you up. You hear Toji let out a desperate whine, not expecting you to take all of him so quickly. He was so pent up from all the teasing and all he wanted to do was to fuck into your sweet cunt with reckless abandon.

“G-God, yeesss, you’re so good for me, ma’am,” he says as obediently as he could.

You slowly draw your hips up before you slam back down, giggling at how cute Toji sounded when he was this pussydrunk. One taste of your cunt and he was already whimpering for you and obeying your every command.

“That’s it, you’re a quick learner, aren’t ya, daddy?” You ask. You knew Toji loved when you called him that, which is why you saved using it for special occasions such as these. You continue to fuck back into him, grinding on his lap as you moan so sinfully for him. All that can be heard is the lewd plap! plap! plap! of your skin meeting his as he whimpers underneath you.

Toji could tell your legs were getting tired as your pace became more sloppy.

“F-Fuck, baby, so so close,” you whine out, trying to fuck yourself through your high before your legs give out.

This would be the perfect opportunity to escape. With one final tug of the ropes around his wrist, he feels his hand set free. He bucks his hips into you, quickly removing the other hand from its confines.

“Yeah, is my baby gonna cum all over my cock like the cockslut she is? Huh? I asked you a question, bitch,” he spits out.

Did you hear him correctly? Did he forget how this game was supposed to go? You were debating pulling off of him entirely until you feel —

A hand?

Toji grabs a fistful of your hair before he yanks you back into him, wrapping the other around your waist before he is pounding into your sopping cunt at lightning speed. The ropes you bound were only held together by the knot at his wrist and two at his feet, so the rest of the ropes fell off of him with ease. You had no clue how he escaped and quite frankly, you didn’t care.

“Gotta get better at tyin’ those ropes, doll. Coulda’ got out a while ago, but I like watchin’ you struggle to cum,” he says casually, like he’s not brutally fucking you through your long awaited orgasm.

“That’s it, take this fuckin’ dick, doll. Lemme feel that pussy suck me in like she does so well,” he says, fully talking you through it as you release all you have onto him.

Before you can even come down from your high, Toji is literally spinning you around on his dick before he’s standing the both of you up. His legs are still bound to the chair, so it takes him a minute to find his balance. But once he does, he is absolutely abusing your filthy cunt as he fucks you in the air. Two big hands glued to your ass cheeks as he moves your whole body on top of him, not leaving any inch of his cock uncovered with your slick.

“Been teasin’ me so fuckin’ much, brat, gonna make me cum too soon.”

Your arms are tight around Toji’s neck as he absolutely ruins you, nothing but choked moans leaving your lips.

“Not my f-fault you can’t last old m-man,” you stutter, all power behind your words lost as soon as that knot came undone.

All he can say is a loud, “fuck you,” before he’s bullying into your precious cunt with a ferocity you’ve never seen before. You warn him that you’re so close to tipping over the edge.

“Nah, babydoll. Little brats don’t get to finish. Yer’ gonna’ take this fuckin’ load like the cumslut you are and you’re gonna fuckin’ like it,” he says as he’s fucking into you with a harsh final thrust before he empties his thick load into your tight, wet heat. His cum shoots out so fast, he’s moaning into your neck with each rope that comes out.

He’s all but collapsing back into the chair with you still on top of him, earning a low moan from you as the position pushes his seed even further into your womb. You start to pull off of him to go get a towel before he’s grabbing a wad of your hair and slamming you back down onto his cock for the nth time that night.

“No ma’am. We’re jus’ gettin’ started, hah.”

@theobsidianempress @scorpiosugar @voloslobotomyservice @lostsoul526 @shhreya @placxdbaby @iminurwallsgege @slvttyplum @tojiluhbit @leeisyourmom

[nonranghaes]

heads up! pregnant!reader (still referred to with they/them pronouns in the only instance pronouns are used for reader). some sexual implications, but it goes nowhere. husband!cheol <3

the moment you see seungcheol step back into the bedroom, his shoulders slump as exhaustion hits him like a train. things have been... rough to say the least ever since your son (almost three) learned he's getting a little sister. the terrible twos are a thing, sure, but you'd hoped that maybe he'd get used to the idea a bit more over time... instead he's been trying to figure out how to get rid of her (naming people she could go live with, mainly) before she's even here.

seungcheol flops onto the bed, and then moves in closer so that he could rest his head in your lap. "i think he's scared we won't love him as much." he lets out a long sigh. "we'll keep talking to him about it."

"mmhm." you reach down, running a hand through his hair. "he'll come around. he's just stubborn like his dad."

seungcheol gives you a slightly annoyed look--not because you said it, but because it's true--and turns over to press a kiss against your bump. "they're being mean to me again," he says with a pout. "haven't i dealt with enough today?"

you roll your eyes a little. "i think once she's here and he realizes that he's still going to get equally spoiled by his uncles, he'll calm down."

"mhm." seungcheol is only half-listening now. he's too fixated on your bump, tracing his fingers over your shirt, too caught up in his own thoughts. he did the same when you were expecting your son: always gazing at you with this soft look in his eyes, all too tender. he'd been a bit more of a mess of nerves the first time around, but equally as loving.

"cheollie?"

"i love you," he says, and you aren't sure who he's saying it to now. "both of you," his gaze flits up to meet yours. he pushes himself up so that he can lean in to kiss you.

yet the moment you think it might lead somewhere, you hear tiny feet rushing down the hallway. before the door opens, seungcheol is already pouting--not again--but it's gone by the time he turns around to face his son. he's already getting back up to ask what's wrong as he scoops the kid into his arms, shooting you a sorry smile when he looks back. he'll make it up to you sometime...

but you don't mind it, actually. not when you get to see your husband this loving with your son. instead, you decide to follow after them instead, just to feel happy with the growing family that you've created together.

[cranberry-writes]

Dating Headcannons for The Boys characters!

Please send requests, i need motivation

Characters listed; Hughie, Butcher, M.M, Frenchie, Kimiko

Warnings; Mentioned drinking and cannon typical violence/language. Also i’m barely on season 2 please bear with me

Hughie;

- He’s so so sweet about your relationship

- He gets you flowers for no reason other than he saw them and thought you’d like them

- He has thousands of reminders so he won’t forget anything, from a drink you liked to your anniversary he will have it written down.

- Later on in the series he gets protective and cautious about the relationship, scared someone (homelander) will mess it up by hurting you

- He’ll probably push you away a bit to try and protect you but after you knock some sense into him he’ll be back to normal

- Loves park/library dates, going on a picnic during the summer and to the library when it’s to cold out.

- He will do so much for you (flowers, gifts, dates etc) and insist it’s nothing but will cry (happy tears) if you do the same

- Don’t get me wrong tho, he’s still a bad ass (sometimes). He just dosnt want you to think differently of him because of it, he’s hurt people, killed people, and he honestly isn’t too keen on focusing on it. Even if you two are in the same line of work.

- And if you two don’t work together he tries to keep his ‘work’ life and dating life separate, very separate.

“You’ve never told me what you do for work, maybe i could stop by and meet your co-workers.”

“Uh, actually, i don’t think that’ll work.”

“Why not? is everything ok there or something?”

“I-, uhm, work alone, so i don’t even have coworkers for you to meet really, it’s really boring infact you’d probably fall asleep just from me talking about it hahaha.”

- You find out like two days later

Butcher;

- Little shit

- I mean that affectionately

- His pet names will range anywhere from “Darlin’” to “Fucker” and i WILL stand by it

- He’ll probably introduce you to his work before he does his dog

- But his dog is the big ticket, you meeting Terror is essentially his way of proposing before proposing

- He’s protective but not in the “i’ll watch your every move” more in the “im teaching you how to use every weapon to ever exist” way

- Honestly work would probably come before you for a while before he sucks it up and actually makes an effort

- Dates will be at the most shity bar imaginable, unless he’s apologizing for something then he’ll take you to the nicest place he can and put on a suit. (it’s the Cheese Cake factory and he’s wearing a Hawaiian shirt under his jacket but he’s trying)

- Unlike Hughie he will introduce you to his work at some point, granted it would still be a while before he did but he would at some point.

- He’s sweet in his own way

“Darlin’, look what i got ya.” And it’s a Garfield shirt a size to big but you still wear it anyways

MM;

- Definition of husband material

- remembers anything and everything after being told one time

- makes you baths with rose petals and candles and all that stuff if you mention you’ve been tired lately

- Takes you out to the movies and a nice restaurant at least twice a month

- Good gods he’s sweet to you

- He knows how to cook/bake and will make stuff for you all the time

- My guy will make a meal from your culture and practice making it almost daily just to give you a taste of home.

- He really loves back massages and cuddling after a long day

- Put on some crappy reality show for background noise and nap together

- He wants you as far away as humanly possible from his work, will literally say shit like “everyone at work has the plague you can’t visit” as a joke to try and change the subject

- Chances are you won’t find out

- His favorite flowers are tulips and nothing will change my mind about it

“Baby what are these?”

“Tulips, I bought them from a street market on 11th today. They’re your favorite, right?”

“Gods, sweetheart you’re perfect.”

Frenchie;

- When you two meet you both think it’s just going to be a one night stand

-…then it’s two nights, then three, then a week, then you start spending more time at his place than your own. One day you guys just realize you’re moved in and dating

“Are we dating?”

“…Was there anything else we could be mon cœur?”

- honestly i don’t think you two would get together if you weren’t working together, or at least you were also into some shady shit

- But overall you guys have a strong relationship, one gets hurt the other kills someone, someone is hungry the other is already cooking, stuff like that

- He also cooks but it’s only french food, it’s like a super power. He can cook any french food effortlessly but literally anything else he messes up

- If you are french he’ll be super happy someone else will appreciate the same stuff in a similar way

- If not then he’ll be happy to share stuff with you, teach you some french words and tell you about stuff he grew up with

- Honestly he’s just happy someone (other than Kimiko) will listen and take an interest

Kimiko

-I have a confession to make, Kimiko is my favorite and i have a very blatant bias towards her

- Kill anyone you want bby i don’t care ill always like you

- Anyways, It probably takes you a while to get close enough to her that she’ll consider dating you

- Once y’all get to that point i don’t think you could break it tho

- I think she would like constant minimal physical contact, like hand holding or leaning on each other

- I think she’d be pretty protective over you, like someone looks at you wrong and she wants to maul them

- Learn sign language with/for her she will love it

- Draw with her, get her supplies, like those alcohol markers i’m sure she’ll love them

- Honestly i don’t think she’d be big on pet names, she wouldn’t object to it but i don’t think she’d give you one first

- Cook for her, i just think it would be sweet and she deserves it

“I got you some of those markers you’ve been looking at for a while.”

Thank you, this is nice

- Please she’s perfect i love her

[shuenkio]

I only need you | 💕 chulso.

Paring: Ni-ki x male!reader

Genre: Fluff, enemies (not really) to lover trope.

Cw: brat word.

Summary: He wants you but he is denying when you are there for him.

Non proof read/wc:1.0k

Eng is not my 1st lang.

A|N: I know I have written a lot of school tropes but I'm still writing here with him, also I wrote this in my sleep so... It's a lil cringe.

Befriending the bad boy, Ni-ki, was your worst mistake. But that wasn't the end of it. The universe seemed to conspire to keep the two of you together, making it impossible to escape each other.Was it fate or coincidence? It didn’t matter, because wherever you went, Ni-ki was always there too.

Not only have you been classmates with him for five years, but even in 12th grade, he’s still there. Your name and his always seem to be side by side for a reason. It’s a good thing neither of you are the top students vying for the top spot on the board, but that doesn’t mean your friendship with him is all sweet and nice.

Behind it all, you hate his aura and the way he acts towards you. Some days, he annoys you non-stop, never letting you breathe or relax. Other days, he's unexpectedly nice, giving you free snacks or leaving his lunch under your desk. Mixed signals. Despite all the things you hate about Ni-ki, he's the opposite of you.

He might act all tough and come across as an annoying loser toward you, but deep down, he craves your attention. Yet, did he have the courage to confess that to you? Who would be foolish enough to reveal their true feelings to their one and only friend and crush, especially someone they are so close to? Such a confession could change everything. He prefers to keep things low-key, which is why he sometimes does things that send those strange, fluttering sensations through your stomach. Instead of words, he leaves his feelings in the little gestures—a snack here, a lunchbox there, or a fleeting touch that lingers longer than it should.

One day, he accidentally fell down the stairs, sustaining minor injuries to his leg and nose. Ni-ki was swiftly sent to the nurse's office, and the news spread through the classroom like wildfire. You dismissed it as just another instance of his clumsiness, thinking there was nothing to worry about. However, when a friend told you that Ni-ki needed you and was refusing treatment from the nurse, you quickly denied any involvement and refused to be his caretaker.

Before you know it, you're standing in front of the nurse's office, having been dragged there by your friends after a few stern lectures from them. You can't fathom why they care so much about him that they would go to such lengths to pull you out of class and deposit you here. All you get from them is a simple, "He needs you." Out of all people, it had to be you? You sigh, feeling the weight of their expectations. With a resigned breath, you push yourself to go in, deciding to repay him for all the small kindnesses he's shown you—the snacks, obviously.

You reluctantly step inside, fearing your friends' teasing if you don’t. As you approach Ni-ki, you see him lying on the bed with an ice bag on his leg, stubbornly refusing treatment. Standing face to face with him, you can't hide your disbelief as you question why he’s acting like a child. He avoids your gaze, his cheeks flushing a soft red. It feels like you've hit a nerve. Taking a deep breath, you hop onto the bed and sit beside his waist, folding your hands together like an exasperated parent.

"Yo, what's this all about?" you ask, avoiding his eyes, knowing you'd be mortified if you did.

"I didn't call you an idiot; those students made it up," Ni-ki mumbles, his lips tight, refusing to admit the truth. An uncomfortable silence fills the room. As you glance around for the nurse, your eyes land on a male nurse, and suddenly, everything clicks.

"You should’ve told me sooner; why are you acting all tough?" you say, leaving the bed to discuss the situation with the nurse. Ni-ki strains to eavesdrop, but all he hears is unintelligible murmuring, as if he were listening to white noise. He furrows his brows, trying to process what’s happening, replaying memories in his mind, but finding no clue about your next move.

With a cold smirk and an evil gaze, you roll up your sleeves and approach him. A chill runs down his spine as he gulps, attempting to muster rage, but failing miserably. He's speechless as you wrap your arms around his torso, cupping his face to keep his focus on you. Distracting him, you allow the nurse to examine and treat his leg without any tantrums from this ungrateful brat.

"Look at me, Ni-ki. Don’t you see? I'm right here. Don’t you like it?" you say, cringing internally, but knowing it's the quickest way to get through this. Ni-ki's world seems to stop as he looks into your eyes, captivated by your face. He acts cool and bratty to avoid being babied, but with you, it’s different.Since childhood, he’s been terrified of male doctors and nurses after a wrong injection left him bedridden for a month.

You witnessed it, and your memory clicks, understanding his behavior.

"*Sigh, if you're scared, just hug me or squeeze my hand, Chulso. Don’t think twice," you reassure. His tongue tied, your use of his old nickname makes him choke up even more. Without a word, his eyes widen, and he buries his face in your chest, pulling you closer in a swift motion, hugging your waistband affectionately.

"Ashh, you know too much about me."

"We're more than friends, Chulso; I’ve even seen you naked before," you tease.

"Don’t even start. And yes, I could make our friendship more than that."

"You switch quickly, I see. But what else do you have? Nothing surprises me."

"I'm going to make everyone believe you're my boyfriend from now on."

"What are you saying?"

"You two should get a room, you kids"

the nurse interjects.

🗣️ please mind my English! ><

🗣️Reblog and like is much appreciated ♥

🗣️ crd to the owner of dividers: Anitalenia

🗣️ I admit I use chat gpt for more visualize (my idea is purely mine, only add small visualize&better words) because... I'm suck, (sorry not sorry)

[lushrue]

I don't know if this is good but maybe, you can write something about maybe ice skater! reader being unfairly graded (i don't know how the point system works) or maybe ice hockey! 141 getting in a fight during a game and it gets kinda serious? Just a suggestion ofcourse, no pressure!❤ (Sorry if i'm akward, this is my first time sendinag and ask.)

thanks for the request, anon! your ask is great, no sweat! i’m gonna expand more on the second part of your request cause i’ll be honest, i’m not sure how scoring works for figure skating either lol!

but if reader gets a score that’s anything less than what they were expecting, no one’s gonna be happy. johnny’s raising a stink and probably cursing at the judges under his breath with words only he can understand. price is trying to rationalize it, cause he was sure you deserved higher than that. ghost seethes quietly, but he lets it go because these things happen sometimes. and kyle is just there for you, there to provide comfort or reassurance, whatever you need.

OKAY SO if the 141 got into a serious fight on the ice, for sure someone’s walking away bloody. whether it’s them or the other guy, it’s gotta be bad if all four of them are dog-piling on the opposing team. it probably starts with some cocksure rookie mouthing off, chirping about someone’s mother or sister or worse, you. they just can’t let that stand, someone insulting your honor like that! they’re gentlemen above all!

it’s probably ghost who throws the first punch. he’s the defenseman after all, his position is naturally a bit more physical than the rest of them. he doesn’t need words to fight back, he’s got fists that work just fine. that’s where johnny comes in, our favorite resident hothead. he’s swearing up a storm, hurling insults just to keep tensions high. he’s not done with a fight until someone’s on the ground. and he hasn’t gotten the chance to knock someone out yet this season.

price initially comes in as the peacemaker, trying to call off his attack dogs. “always on a hair trigger, those two,” he’d mumble under his breath. but the minute he hears what they’re saying or gets a punch thrown his way, he’s right there in the fray with everyone else. he tells himself it’s in defense of his boys, but he can’t deny the fire that burns hot in his belly when someone insults you. kyle is the last to join, but that doesn’t mean he’s not as passionate as the rest of them. he’s been chirping across the ice the whole time, choosing to fight at arm’s length rather than engage in contact. after all, someone has to remain penalty-free in this whole mess. he’s easily provoked to lashing out, though. call his pretty thing a rude name one more time, he dares you.

you’re torn as you watch in the stands, the refs skating in and trying to break everyone up. you can see that someone’s injured; there’s drops of blood on the ice, so play isn’t resuming for at least another 10 minutes. you know this needs to stop, that they need to cool off. but something stirs in you, watching your men fight fisticuffs on the ice. you think you catch johnny look back to make sure you’re watching before throwing a particularly bruising right hook. but of course, it ends eventually. you’re there in the locker room while the rink staff scrapes the ice to clean it, nursing johnny’s split lip while checking in with the rest. they’re all fine, thank goodness, just a couple bruised jaws and egos. "y'should see th'other guy," johnny mutters around the paper towel you're holding against his lip.

cheeky bastards, you think to yourself. always getting into trouble.

[katssblogg]

songs mha students would listen to

For all my mha kinnies who can’t find a good playlist <3

This took me so long + making the playlists took me even more time 😭😭

note: I tried to make them as accurate as possible ^^ (I added links, just press on their names!)

Also requires you to have Spotify ( sorry if you don’t have it )

Izuku Midoriya

He 100% listens to music that hypes him up

2016 type of music

He gets exited when he hears one of these songs on the radio

Sings along to cake by the ocean without knowing the meaning of the lyrics

Shouto Todoroki

Lots of Japanese folk music

Most English songs on his playlist are recommendations from his friends

He rarely listens to music, mostly does it when he’s doing chores.

Listens to this playlist with his mother when he visits

Fumikage Tokoyami

he lives off of slipknot

Lots of deftones

He gets so happy when he finds other people with similar music taste

Darkshadow loves his playlist

Hanta Sero

this boy loves house + funk music

Chills out in his hammock with this playlist on

tries to get his friends to get into it

Jamiroquais biggest fan

Katsuki Bakugou

Listens to this playlist at the gym

Loves linkin park (that’s why he plays the drums)

gets irritated when people ask for his playlist

Mina got him into ‘rock the boat’ by aaliyah because she kept singing it

He threatened her not to tell anyone when she heard him humming it

Mezo Shoji

Loves Micheal Jackson

Knows all the lyrics to dirty diana

Play him any 80s song and he’ll guess the name correctly

Gets a little shy when he gets asked about his music taste

Eijirou Kirishima

Thinks this is the manliest playlist ever

It probably is

Puts this playlist on at the gym or when sparring with his punching bag

Rikidou Sato

Big Britney Spears + spice girls fan

Listens to anything upbeat

Got embarrassed because someone said his playlist was ‘girly’

Mina loves his playlist

Kouji Koda

Soft and emotional

Doesn’t like songs with too many lyrics

Loves jazz music, it calms him and his bunny down

Todoroki says he likes his music taste and he got really happy and shy

Mashirao Ojiro

Big Bruno Mars fan

Pretty average music taste

Moves his tail to the beat of the songs

Minoru Mineta

Thinks his playlist is peak coolness

Listens to this playlist when doing chores and reading manga

Mina once complimented it and he wouldn’t stop mentioning it the whole week.

Denki Kaminari

Listens to this playlist non-stop

Stereotypical white boy music

Dances in his room to it

His quirk stops his headphones from running out of battery

Tenya Iida

Massive ABBA fan

Only listens to music when doing chores as he things it unprofessional to listen to it anywhere else

Has the most serious face ever when headbops

Analyses all the lyrics for hidden meanings

Yuuga Aoyama

Twirls around in his room when listening to this

Obnoxiously sings the lyrics in his dorm

Got quite a few complaints

Playlist approved by Mina

Tsuyu Asui

Loves Sade

Listens to this playlist in the shower

Very unique

Koda loves her playlist

Tooru Hagakure

Queen of pop

she and Mina listen to doja cat when getting ready to go out

Got all red when Ojiro found her playlist

Momo Yaoyorozu

She loves Madonna and Amy Winehouse

Jirou calls her playlist ‘cute’

Dances on her big bed

Knows all the lyrics to lucky star by Madonna

Ochako Uraraka

Bakugou gave her an ipod and she never leaves without it

Listens to Justin Timberlake because she thinks he’s cute

Her playlist is lowkey a whole vibe

Mina Ashido

Always comes up with dances in her room

Biggest r&b and hip hop fan

Her favourite song is rock the boat by aaliyah

Sings it around the campus and during class

Kyouka Jirou

The amount of hype her playlist has is insane

Tokoyami loves her playlist

Once got played at a party and present mic complimented it

Sometimes has her music playing loudly in her room

Im thinking of doing a UA teacher and LoV version next if you guys enjoyed it :)

[topsyturvy-turtely]

turtely's OTP challenge

read day 24 "Spikey Like a Rose" on ao3!

prompt: dealing with children

summary: My name is Rosie Watson and I am five years old. Today I got into trouble.

Gen, 593 words, Parenlock. Sherlock is a Good Parent. POV Rosie.

this. but 4 years later:

or read it on tumblr! TRIGGER WARNING: BULLYING

☺︎☹︎☻︎☹︎☺︎☻︎☹︎☺︎☻︎☺︎☹︎☻︎☹︎☺︎☻︎☹︎☺︎☻︎☺︎☹︎☻︎☹︎☺︎☻︎☹︎☺︎☻︎☺︎☹︎☻︎☹︎☺︎☻︎☹︎

Hello! My name is Rosie and I am five years old. Actually, my name is Rosamund Watson. But Daddy and Papa call me Rosie. They like it. Papa sometimes says 'Little Watson' or 'Flower', because Rosie sounds a bit like a rose. I like that. Roses are pretty. They also have spikes. I can be spikey too! Like when Peter from kindergarten was mean to me today. He said it is 'freaky' to have two daddies and no mummy. But I told him, "I do have a mummy. But I don't know her because she is dead." And also I told him, "And also, having two daddies is always better than having just one!" Then I hit him.

Now I am in trouble because Papa sits on the other side of the table and looks at me all serious. He says, "I understand you were angry and hurt, when Peter said our family was 'freaky'. But hurting people is never a way to solve your problems. Do you understand?" Papa looks at me with his serious eyes. I look at his curls - they bounce funnily when you put your hands in them. I wish Papa stopped being mad at me, and let me put my hands in his hair again. I look away, I don't wanna look at Papa when he is angry. My eyes start to hurt.

"I am not mad at you, Watson." I listen up again. Papa is not mad? "But I want you to understand that instead of hurting, talking about your thoughts or your problem, is the best way to deal with your feelings. Do you understand that?"

I start to cry, "I understand, Papa."

"Oh, Flower. Come here!" I climb into Papa's lap. "Why are you crying? Do you want to tell me?"

"I am just- just glad, you aren't mad at me. I am sorry I hit Peter!"

"I am not mad at you, Rosie. You just need to learn these things and that's okay. Daddy and I need to learn to talk about our feelings, thoughts and problems, too. Without hurting each other. It took us a while and some help to figure that out, too. Life is a lesson. You never stop learning."

"Like learning to read and write and count in school?"

Papa laughs. "That is important too, but there is much more to learn. About feelings and many other topics."

I think about that for a bit. Then, I nod. "I think I get it, Papa."

"Good. Oh, I wanted to say that I like what you told Peter today, though. You stood up for yourself and your family. That is important and I am proud of you. When you do that it is called 'loyal'. You're just like your father - he is a very loyal man, too."

I think again. I like being like Daddy. He is strong and smart and funny. And he loves Papa and me a lot. I nod, "Alright." Then I hug Papa. I put my hands in his hair and let it bounce. "Can we go pick up Daddy now?"

Papa laughs again. "Not quite yet. Do you wanna go to the park in the meantime?"

I jump up. "YES!" I yell and run as fast as I can to get my backpack and put some snacks inside, because I really don't like being hungry.

When I have it, I run back. But Papa hasn't moved at all! So, I ask, "Why aren't you ready yet? Come on, let's go!"

Papa laughs, then - finally - gets ready.

☺︎☹︎☻︎☹︎☺︎☻︎☹︎☺︎☻︎☺︎☹︎☻︎☹︎☺︎☻︎☹︎☺︎☻︎☺︎☹︎☻︎☹︎☺︎☻︎☹︎☺︎☻︎☺︎☹︎☻︎☹︎☺︎☻︎☹︎

kudos & comments on AO3 are highly appreciated!

tags under the cut :)

tag list! (tell me if you wanna be added or removed please 💚) @justanobsessedpan @helloliriels @catlock-holmes @fluffbyday-smutbynight @inevitably-johnlocked @hisfavouritejumper @rhasima @forfucksakejohn @ohlooktheresabee @turbulenttrouble @so-youre-unattached-like-me @totallysilvergirl @peanitbear @train-mossman @loki-lock @smulderscobie @timberva @grace-in-the-wilderness @chinike @jawnn-watson @whatnext2020 @escapingthereality @missdeliadili @kettykika78 @7-percent @speedymoviesbyscience @astudyin221b @francj15 @ladylindaaa @we-r-loonies @mxster-jocale @sherlockcorner @noahspector @our-stars-graveside @jobooksncoffee @baker-street-blog @macgyvershe @myladylyssa @battledress @a-victorian-girl @dreamerofthemeadow @oetkb12 @ohnoesnotagain @mutedsilence @jawnscoffee @lisbeth-kk @quickslvxrr @compact-and-beautiful @kabubsmagga @sunshineinyourmind @booksoversleep @startrekker2011

[hiraethwa]

one summer day

10 epiphany. where ushijima has a sudden realization

<< 09 disconnect. | >> 11 (coming soon)

pairing: ushijima wakatoshi x reader a/n: we only go up from here, my loves - ave word count: 3.7k 💀 warnings: violence, threats, vile, misogynistic comments (by a rando), cursing tags: @lemurzsquad @daisy-room @integers -- (inbox me if you want to be added to the tag list)

april, third year

ushijima wakatoshi is by no means a people person. he is a highly motivated individual, mind always focused on the task at hand. he does not mind people interacting with him, although he can survive without it. 

he enjoys playing volleyball and listening to his teammates, occasionally adding to the conversation, but he has never been a particularly talkative person like tendo. it’s not that he dislikes human interaction, he just finds that sometimes, some things are better left unspoken, or perhaps unnecessary altogether. 

he never goes out of his way to befriend someone – he was already busy with volleyball as it is, and to add to it, staying on top of his school’s demanding curriculum. people has commented on his stoicism and general unapproachability behind his back, not that he cares enough about it. so naturally, he did not have a lot of friends to begin with. 

wakatoshi thinks that he is satisfied with his way of life and intends on keeping it simple with just school and volleyball, and none of the drama that he’s heard going around his year all the time. or rather, he intended to. 

and so, he finds himself confused, and irritated as well, when this guy from his year, apparently the captain of the basketball or baseball or whatever, he could care less, tries to start some kind of shit with him. 

ushijima was on his way to lunch with tendo when this idiot came and started badmouthing him and the volleyball team, calling him a useless piece of shit and some other names that he stopped listening to. he wondered what the point of this confrontation is when he doesn’t even know who this person is. 

with a blank stare and a twitching eyebrow, ushijima cuts him off, “i’m sorry, who are you again?” 

it only made him angrier and humiliated, with the crowd that is starting to form around the commotion. “my name is yamasaki takeo.”

“i don’t recall asking for your opinion, yamasaki-san,” ushijima retorts irritably, eliciting a gasp from tendo who is next to him. 

yamasaki gapes at him, as the whispers from the students around them grow audibly. 

that ought to be the end of it, ushijima thinks, as he makes to leave the scene that yamasaki caused. he has better things to worry about, like the fact that you are still not on speaking terms with him, rather than this pointless confrontation that is clearly wasting his time.

“that’s right, because you’re too busy trying to get into miyamura’s pants than focusing on volleyball, aren’t you?” 

tendo reckons that the idiot is relentless in picking a fight with him, and apparently has a death wish. for he had the balls to bring your name up when it is currently occupying the top spot in ushijima’s list of touchy subjects, which is very, very short. in fact, it only has one entry right now.

ushijima clenches his fists. now he is truly irritated, and his short patience is reaching its end. 

yamasaki, noticing that he is finally getting a reaction out of the indifferent volleyball captain, delightedly goes on to drag your name through the mud. 

“is it really that difficult to get your little girlfriend to sleep with you, captain, if you are so high and mighty? or is it just you that she is not interested in?” he mocks ushijima, a shit eating grin on his face now that he has ushijima’s full attention, discovering his weakness. “maybe she’s actually sleeping around with your friends. in fact, i wouldn’t be so surprised if she is, considering how close she is to semi eita as of late.”

if looks could kill, yamasaki would be long dead by now. his only saving grace being the thin fraying thread of patience that ushijima is holding on to. a very, very thin thread. 

“if you know what’s good for you, keep her name out of your filthy mouth.” ushijima grits his teeth. 

ushijima hates that he has you dragged into this spectacle. you’re not his girlfriend, much less his friend at this very moment. he hates that too, that you are so far away from his reach. he dislikes the hole your absence left in his meticulous schedule, and he misses the warmth your presence brings him. 

for your sake, he has been keeping his temper in check. convincing himself that getting into a brawl with yamasaki would only serve to fan the flames of the situation when word spreads around school, and the one who would suffer the most would be you. 

but it appears that yamasaki is asking, practically begging for it, as he continues his goading. “maybe i need to get a taste of her, considering how well she has you wrapped around her finger.”

the thread explodes. 

red. red is all ushijima could see as someone grabs a hold of yamasaki’s collar and throws a fist into his cocky face. he is so full of shit. a killing calm descends on ushijima as he watches the person pull his arm back and send another punch to yamasaki. again. and again. 

he vaguely registers his friend shouting his name and pulling on his arm with a few of other students. semi and ohira, he realizes. puzzled, he looks down to see his hand gripping tightly onto the front of yamasaki’s uniform, and his left hand is covered in blood. 

oh. oh. that was him who punched the asshole.

ushijima releases his hold on yamasaki, breathing heavily as the gravity of the situation settles in. it isn’t some inconsequent drama to circulate around school anymore. 

yamasaki struggles to stand, coughing out blood. his nose sits crookedly on his face, most possibly broken. but he has the nerve to smirk, as much as he could, at ushijima. “not so strong now, are you?”

“says the one with a sorry state for a face,” semi retorts, tense from the whole situation.

he merely wipes at his bloodied face, waving semi off. “i am not the one you need to worry about. i am also not the one who is risking his spot on the under 19 team for the youth world championship with a scandal.”

ushijima recoils, blood running cold. was that his goal all along? 

“maybe, i will forgive your actions, if you get on your knees and beg,” yamasaki pauses, a dark glint in his eyes, “and give y/n to me.”

his words have ushijima struggling to break free from his teammates, caution thrown to the winds, ready to beat him to a pulp. 

“let go of me!” ushijima growls. fuck the consequences, there is no way in hell he will let this asshole lay a finger on you.

he does not notice the crowd parting as the students recognize you and allow you space to get to the front of the commotion. the frown on your face from witnessing the latter half of the events unfolding after you yielded to chika’s curiosity of the commotion that sent students running in the hallways and getting their friends to join them. the sigh that escapes your lips from being the center of the drama. 

“is that all it really takes?” your voice stops him in his attempts to break free, his head snapping towards you in shock.

ushijima has not felt fear in years, certainly not on the volleyball court, not since his parents had a messy divorce, but your words send his heart dropping to the floor. “y/n–”

“stay out of it.” you breathe sharply at him, needing your wits about you if you were to get him out of this situation unscathed. turned away from yamasaki, you let out a trembling breath and steel your nerves. 

you’ve worn a mask in your own home for years, this is nothing, you remind yourself. sure, the whispers would spread, but for him, you would wreck yourself. to hell with this asshole if he dares to try to bring ushijima down. ironic, considering you distanced yourself to save your own heart. when it is all said and done, it still belongs to him.  

“unfortunately, i am not an object that ushijima can simply give away, yamasaki-san, but am i worth the lengths you went to?” 

you observe as his eyes dart behind you at ushijima. so that’s how it is. you are not what he wants. what he wants is to get to ushijima, for reasons you can surmise from the gossip that had been floating around the last week. 

if you play your cards right, you could twist his arm behind his back, figuratively speaking. he would have no choice but to back down, you hope. if not… you don’t want to even think about it. this has to be enough.

“why don’t i propose you a better trade?” you bat your lashes at the scum in front of you, playing the role of the ever helpless girl using her body to get away with things. praying to the gods above that he will take the bait. just come a little closer and i will show you my teeth, bastard.

surely, you can’t be thinking of actually going out with yamasaki, ushijima tries to convince himself as he watches you smile at the asshole coyly. you are smarter than that, and he is not worth your sacrifice. 

or is he? he averts his eyes as you lean in towards yamasaki. shoves the prickling sense of unfamiliar discomfort down. shushes the pealing bells in his mind. the urge to pummel his face to nothing. 

he tries to put his mind elsewhere, but a sense of inevitability creeps in. dread, he realizes, crawls up his spine and makes its home there.

he wants to shout at you. something. anything. anything but this. he doesn’t need to be in the youth 19 team. he would rather risk it all. he doesn’t need anything, doesn’t want anything but you by his side. and the thought of it terrifies him.

“wakatoshi-kun,” tendo nudges him and grabs his attention away from his thoughts. he follows tendo’s gaze towards you and takashima, whose cocky smirk was completely wiped off his bloodied and bruised face and replaced by a paleness that looked like fear. “that’s your girl.”

“i’m so glad we were able to come to an understanding, takashima-san. i would hate for such a nasty argument to get even more out of hand, don’t you agree? now that we are on the same page, i’m sure this won’t happen again. right, takashima-san?” ushijima shudders at the underlying hostility in your fake cheery voice that is directed towards takashima. he never wants to be on the receiving end of it, he thinks. 

you lay a hand on his arm, an eerily innocent smile on your face. and takashima winces, nodding quickly and too eagerly compared to his earlier behavior. 

“i guess we will see you around?” ushijima catches on to the hidden demand under your nice words. you better stay away from us. “oh, do you need a hand to the nurse’s office?”

what exactly did he miss? but he is too awestruck by the way you turned the situation around that he forgot to correct tendo’s earlier statement. 

he tunes out takashima’s stuttering response as you turn around, a frown finding its way onto your beautiful features as your cold eyes land on him. barely registers tendo calling “show’s over” and gesturing at the crowd to disperse and mind their own business.

he hates the mask you are wearing, pushing everyone, and him, away as a defense mechanism. he hates that he is the reason you had to don it today to protect him from his own actions.   

ushijima finds himself reaching out to you to smooth out the furrow in your brows, only to be met by resistance. your slender fingers hook onto his wrist, halting his movement for a split second before dropping his hand like a hot potato. 

“people are watching,” you remind him. your eyes catch on his left hand, where the skin on his knuckles was split, hesitating on your next words. “you should get that treated.”

he frowns, already missing the feeling of your skin on his. why would he care that people are watching?

the four of them end up walking to the nurse’s office with ohira dismissing himself from the group for some errand he had to run for his class. tendo being tendo, starts pestering you about what you did and how you did it despite your clipped answers. 

ushijima finds himself staring at the back of your head, unsure if you are just a figment of his imagination from how long he went without interacting with you. next to him, semi nods his head at you, “she doesn’t hate you, you know.”

he stays quiet. if that’s true, then why are you so intent on avoiding him?

“you are both impossible,” semi huffs in disbelief. 

finding the nurse’s office empty, semi lets your little group into the dark room. tendo beelines for the cabinet, rummaging for supplies. you didn’t have the energy to tell them that they should probably wait for the nurse to come back.

you keep to the door, fidgeting as if you could not decide to stay or go. “see you guys” you blurt, feet moving quickly out the door.

“y/n–” ushijima panics. is this it? is this all he has left of you?

“i’ll go talk to her.” semi promises, running after you, leaving ushijima in tendo’s hands.

they sit in silence as tendo cleans up ushjima’s bloodied knuckles, the latter unphased by the sting of disinfectant on raw skin with his entire focus on the doorway. wishing. 

sure enough, semi returns with an uneasy y/n in tow, looking like you would rather be anywhere but there. 

he makes you sit on the bed across from ushijima, an indecipherable look in his eyes. “stay, you two need to talk. tendo and i will be right outside.” translation: don’t think about leaving until you talk to him. to which you return an unamused look, crossing your arms in a defensive manner.

you wait until the door clicks closed behind them before stealing a glance at ushijima. his stare displaces you, as if there is nothing more important than you. unbelievable, you think. 

you open your mouth to say something – something mean and hurtful so that he would stop looking at you like he cared, but decide against it, knowing full well your anger, the serpent that rarely rears its head is nasty when it does. 

“why are you avoiding me?” he breaks the silence. the first words you’ve heard from him in a long while, not counting the short exchange earlier and during orchestra practice. you would be lying if you said you didn’t miss his voice. that it didn’t calm the wary hissing wild animal in you on some subconscious level.

“why do you care, ushijima?” the name still leaves a bitter taste on your tongue even though you have tried to get over it. you don’t actually love him, right? it’s just a schoolgirl infatuation. or at least, that is what you keep telling yourself, hoping that it will be true when you repeat it enough times. 

“you are my friend, y/n.” his eyes snap to yours, begging you to understand. 

the feeling of drowning creeps in, bringing you back to the first sleepless nights after you cut him off. how pathetic you were running after someone who did not even treat you as their friend. how worthless. how you went from wishing that he saw you as you are to wishing that he never walked into your life.

“no, if i am your friend, then why didn’t you tell me about the nationals? fuck, i had to find out from semi, and it was only because they needed me to stop you from hurting yourself. what the fuck am i to you, ushijima wakatoshi?” you snap at him. 

he starts to say something, but you are not done, not yet. 

“why bother? why save me from myself, tell me you’re my friend, when you certainly don’t act like it when it comes to yourself? do you think so little of me? or am i just some basket case to you?” your fists curl at your sides, angry tears threatening to escape your eyes, as you will them back. 

why did you start the fight? why? 

and then he is at your feet, kneeling and taking your hands into his, looking at you as if you are his salvation. “it was easy, caring for you. felt right, like second nature. you matter to me, but i–” he glances away for a second, almost too much, he thinks “–i don’t know how to let others do the same to me, even if it’s you, that didn’t come naturally. i’m sorry, y/n.” his knuckles are gentle against your skin, brushing away the tears that you didn’t realize started sliding down your cheeks.

the silence stretches, interrupted by your sniffles here and there. 

“talk to me.” he tucks the hair that is covering your face behind your ear. 

your voice is a pained quiet. “i was running away from you, afraid of what your answer could be. i was scared that you found me unworthy. i felt pathetic, yearning for your friendship if you didn’t feel the same way. but–” your throat tightens at your cowardice, realizing your own mistake.

“it could have been avoided if you just talked to me.” wakatoshi finishes your sentence for you.

“you’re a fucking hypocrite.” you retort, kicking his knee in pettiness. “don’t think you’re so easily forgiven.” and just like that he is forgiven. your heart once again safely tucked away in his hands, returned to its owner after weeks of being torn away bleeding and broken by yours. 

it’s unfair, really. the effortlessness it takes on his part to make you whole unknowingly. maybe you were born without a heart, given away to ushijima by fate. maybe he is meant to come into your life and give it back, to remind you that you are alive, and to live. 

you keep telling yourself that he is meant for more than you. which is the truth. but it is also because you are afraid of losing him forever.  

but he recognizes the way you deflect away from your own vulnerability. “make me beg for it, i’ll do anything to redeem myself.” you mean too much to me.

“anything?” you tap your chin, pretending to be deep in thought. “how about going to the tanabata festival in your kuromontsuki haori hakama?” 

you are trying to see how far he would go to satisfy your demands. usually people wear yukatas to summer festivals, the most casual traditional option, and the most comfortable one in the sweltering heat of summer. a kuromontsuki haori hakama is the highest rank of kimono for men and only worn for formal occasions like weddings and funerals. 

but you would kill to see him in one, and it doesn’t hurt to ask.

“that would be a little difficult… how about a haori hakama?” which is less formal than what you suggested, though enough that he will still stick out like a sore thumb in the crowd, but– “fine.” you wanted to see him in a full formal kimono. 

“i get the crispy ends of your katsu.” nod. “give me a piggyback ride home.” an eyebrow raise, but nod. “i want the only bottle of grape squash that you guys buy every single time.” nod. 

“no more keeping secrets from me.” 

“done.”

“i will have to think of more later, you’re currently on probation.” you narrow your eyes at him, gesturing with your hand, i’m watching you. he catches it deftly, getting all up in your space. 

your breath hitches as he comes eye to eye with you, only inches to spare. “i’m sorry. i’ll do better, i promise.” 

you hear his words, sure, but the thunderous beating of your heart is coming from every direction, deafening. in that moment, you forgot how to speak, tongue twisted in a way that cannot be undone. so you panic, feet kicking out instinctively. 

several things happen in quick succession. wakatoshi grunts, curling backwards in pain. the door bursts open as semi and tendo comes running in to defuse the situation. you sit there in shock. tendo starts cackling at the scene in front of him, tears shining in his eyes. 

“damn, one after another, y/n, you’re putting these boys down real hard.” he wipes his eyes with laughter.

“it was an accident!” 

“sure, sure, if you say so.” he slowly backs out of the room, having a distinctive feeling that you may want to land one on him too. 

“get back here, tendo satori! oi, where do you think you are going? you still need to dress toshi’s wounds.” you dash at him. 

“back to toshi now, are we? why don’t you do it yourself?” he snickers, running away.

semi shakes his head at the two of you, glancing at his captain who is still recovering from your kick in the nuts. he winces at the thought of it. “you good?”

ushijima looks towards where tendo now has an arm thrown over your shoulders, affectionately ruffling your hair, utterly unfazed by the way you are snapping at him. 

“i told you, i am not telling you! it defeats the purpose of what i said to that scum if i told you! get your dirty hands off of me.” you frown at the redhead, and then as if sensing his eyes on you, you point at ushijima. “you, don’t ever pick fights again even if i get dragged into it, it’s not worth it.” 

“but he picked a fight with ushijima-kun first.” 

“why, you brat. do you want to find out what dirty secrets i know about you?”

“wah, scary, y/n-chan. remind me to never get on your bad side.” 

you make a face at tendo, which ushijima finds adorable. his lips quirk in a smile at the scene unfolding in front of them, finally responding to semi’s earlier question. 

“yeah. yeah, i think so.”

“ushijima-kun, you’re down bad.”

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[sysmedsaresexist]

hi!! i wanna ask since i've seen this float around the internet and couldn't get more in-depth info about it, but can osdd-1 be polyfragmented?

So, this is actually a pretty complicated topic. First off, I gotta know how we're describing "polyfragmented" here. Some people use it to describe systems with 100+ parts (mostly fragments/rudimentary parts), other people use it to talk about systems with subsystems, and then lately the online community has started to say it's both and more than that but also none of that. So, yeah, I'm gonna need to know how you personally describe it to give you a more concrete answer.

Now here comes the rambles... (Also, sorry if I sound a little blunt talking about this, it's not aimed at you!)

So, I know that the online community really likes "polyfragmented" as a term, but in modern academic literature and in my medical circles, it's not really common? I just don't hear "polyfragmented" being used that often. Large amounts of parts, subsystems, fragments, etc. are just not all that uncommon or unique when we're talking about DID or OSDD. If anyone likes the term for themselves, that's perfectly fine. It really is just more of a casual term, though, not its own diagnosis or special form of dissociation.

Personally, I think "is polyfragmented OSDD-1 real" is not a productive conversation to have. The clinical field largely seems to agree that there's little difference between OSDD-1 and DID, and there's been many proposals to merge them together under a new name or as just DID... Personally, I support this idea. It's not uncommon for someone who better fits DID to get diagnosed with OSDD, vice versa. I’m not surprised that some people diagnosed with OSDD also find that they fit the definition(s) of polyfragmented.

Unfortunately, I see a lot of discourse over polyfragmented OSDD-1 in the online community just devolve into pain olympics. I’m tired of it. In research, DID is often placed on a continuum with PTSD, with OSDD in the middle. I sometimes see people in the online community use this continuum to say that DID is somehow worse than OSDD. Those people assume that "polyfragmented DID" is a worse DID. I understand that it's easier to think of these things in neat little boxes and hierarchies but this is mental health we're talking about here. It just doesn't fucking work like that!

As someone who fits most definitions of polyfragmented DID, I've met people with just PTSD who were more disabled, more in pain, sometimes even more dissociative than me. DID is on a continuum with PTSD, yes, but if your understanding of that is "DID is a worse version of OSDD which is a worse version of PTSD," then you have vastly misunderstood what that continuum means.

[schizosupport]

Hello! I have a weird relationship to psychosis and I'm not sure if you might have any insight. I think I've had psychotic experiences my whole life, but the experiences I've had don't seem to fit into any named framework I can find (schizospec, etc.). I call it spicy anxiety, because on top of my existing anxiety I also am very prone to fairly brief (hours to days) bizarre delusions with insight. As a kid that would mean reading a fantasy book and being convinced that I had whatever magic powers I read about. As an adult it's more like... What if the car behind me in traffic is a robot-dragon trying to eat me?!?! And I can tell this is Not A Thing, logically, but I also can't stop panicking about it. I tend to be pretty paranoid in general, even when I'm not actively psychotic. Sometimes it's sorta fun, just like Imagination+, now with maybe more suspension of disbelief than is good for me! I have no negative symptoms, only some cognitive symptoms and those are better explained by my AuDHD than anything, I think. I don't think I'm schizospec; my delusions are too brief even for something like Brief Psychotic Disorder, and I think too bizarre for something like Delusional Disorder. I don't care that much about diagnosis, nor am I seeking a diagnosis, but I do want... I guess reassurance that other people experience this in similar ways? And language to describe what I experience? I also know that I have a family history of this type of mental illness (completely untreated) that seems to get worse with age, and if my symptoms ever become debilitating enough that I do need help...I deeply deeply distrust the carceral nature of the psychiatric institution, and I want to have knowledge of my own going in. To be clear: I am not asking you to diagnose me. I am asking if you (or your followers) have ever heard of experiences like this. Thanks for your time, either way!

Hi there! Yes, boy, I sure have!

So the "spicy anxiety" is something that I relate to a lot. I call it "psychosis flavored anxiety", personally. For me it's obviously not my only symptom, but it's something that is a fundamental part of me and also my own way of being schizo spec.

I used to think of this as just anxiety. I remember my gf's face when I first got into specific about the types of things I'm anxious about. They got kinda quiet and was like "honey are you sure that's anxiety" 😂 .... And it IS a type of anxiety, right, because it's a what-if scenario that scares you, rather than something you're convinced of, like a delusion. But it's definitely psychosis-flavored.

More clinical terms could be paranoid ideation, magical thinking and quasipsychosis, depending on your mileage.

I'm also someone who, aside from direct symptoms of schizophrenia, also just has an overactive imagination. Imagination+ is one way to describe it! My brain will come up with all kinds of bizarre and paranoid thoughts all the time. And depending on how well I'm doing I can dismiss it, I can be anxious about, or I can have a breakdown and feel temporarily convinced of it. There's often a grey area where I do act to protect myself from perceived threat, but I also acknowledge that it's an unlikely threat. But "just in case"..

Tendency towards psychosis or adjacent experiences does run in families, so having family members with psychosis means you are more likely to be having this type of experience - and it doesn't have to mean, that you're going to go on to develop fullblown psychosis.

I hope this was helpful!

[mystverse]

EVERYDAY DRABBLES - ¹N.JM

What’s so wrong about being a single mother to a two year old when you are barely 23? You knew what motherhood would bring you. Even if your daughter’s father did not wish to be a part of her life, you knew you wanted her to see the world.

It’s not that they didn’t know. It’s that they didn’t care. You do wonder if they don’t take your words seriously. If your “no” has no meaning to them. It’s not everyone but most of them. You could count Jaemin out because he was nothing but a sweetheart to you. And so he’s allowed to meet your daughter.

“Say Nana,” he mouths the syllables so that your daughter can repeat it. He’s trying to teach her his name first. Yesol giggles, more intrigued by his ear. She’s trying to grasp it instead of repeating the syllables. Jaemin, maybe loves her a little more every day because not only is this little child a fragment of you but also a pure soul that just warms his heart. He could just look at her play all day. Just hold her all day. Sometimes, he wonders why Yesol can’t be his daughter. Why can’t you be his lover, his wife, not some coward’s? These thoughts often flash through his mind only when he’s around you or Yesol. Maybe it’s just that he yearns it so much, or maybe it’s just that-

“Da-da.” His thoughts crash. Yesol pokes at his cheek and repeats it again, “Dada!” a happy squeal. “Oh no- my angel. It’s Na-na,” he tries again. He can’t betray your trust. You had been away from dating and men for a reason, and his actions shouldn’t lead you to think that he’s using Yesol to get to you, “Come on, my angel. It’s Nana.”

“Dada!” A happy giggle and a soft smooch to the cheek, she was gladly poking. He looks around to see if you are around. He doesn’t know if he can rectify this, but he at least needs to let you know of this.

Unbeknownst to him, you were watching them be the daughter and the father. You can only blame yourself for all the troubles. It’s selfish to wish for him to be there for Yesol; be there for you, but your greedy heart wishes it more every day. The feelings between the both of you were obvious. He knows it, and he knows why you are hesitant to act on it, too. Maybe that’s why it’s your time to take the first step. If Yesol should have a father, it should be him. If you should give your heart to a man, it would be him.

You go to them, settling down as Yesol jumps into your arms, “Mama! Dada! Choco!” she excitedly shows the chocolate, half-squeezed and half-melted, “Yes, my baby. Dada gave you chocolate.” You kiss Yesol’s head softly, turning to look at Jaemin. He’s already looking at you, soft eyes searching for answers, “Can I assume something?” he asks, taking in your silence. You hum, “Assume what, Jaemin?”

“Dada! Choco pwease!” he laughs softly, giving her another one, “this is the last one, my angel, hm?” his attention is back at you after pressing a soft kiss to Yesol’s head. “Can I assume that us is possible?” You press a gentle kiss to the side of his lips. A silent affirmation.

: MYST

[perkypeony]

ℂℍ𝔸ℕ𝔾𝔼𝕊 (Nanami Kento x reader)

You are looking at the variety of quiche and croissants, your mouth watering at how good they look. You feel a presence beside you, and as you decide to ignore him, you feel his cursed energy. You can see from the corner of your eye that it is a blond man with a sharp jawline and a perfectly tailored grey suit. You revert your attention to the food in front of you and finally pick a pistachio raspberry croissant and a caramelized onion and mushroom quiche.

You make your way to the counter, waiting behind the blond man. You watch the man pay for a sandwich and suddenly a piece of memory sparks in your head. This man reminds you of your friend, Nanami.

"Only now have you come to find me?" Nanami had scoffed at you, who came to him with eyes puffy from crying. You usually hung out with the second-years, and knowing Satoru, he would tease you to no end, sometimes making you cry. And the times include today. He always said it wasn't his fault you had such a soft heart.

You definitely wanted to spend time with your classmate, but sometimes he acted so cold that you thought he wanted to be left alone. At last, you ended up closer to your seniors, finding them more friendly and warm.

"What do you mean? Are you mad at me?" you had questioned him.

"No. I'm just annoyed that you only come to find me when you're feeling sad or having a problem," he explained.

"I'm sorry if you feel ignored. But it's you who didn't seem to like my company," you replied, not wanting to lose.

"Maybe it's my fault. I'm suck at expressing my feelings," he said before leaving you alone in the hallway.

You couldn't stop thinking about what had happened. Did you fail to realize how much he needed you? Especially after Haibara's death, it was only you two left. Maybe you should spend more time with him after this. Deep down, you hoped he would say he was jealous instead of annoyed.

"Y/N?" You snap back to reality when you hear someone call your name. It's the man in front of you. You can't believe your eyes. Is this man Nanami? Wait, he is indeed your friend, Nanami Kento!

"Ken? You've changed a lot." You can't help but examine his new appearance. How could he be so different now? Not in a bad way, but in a really good way. His emo boy hairstyle is gone, replaced with a very neat-looking 7:3 hairstyle, somewhat similar to his cursed technique. The next thing that catches your eye is his grey suit with a blue dress shirt and yellow tie. It's the first time you see him in a suit, and you can't deny how hot he looks. Are you seriously fangirling over him now? It's not your fault he looks so handsome.

"Y/N, are you okay?" he calls you. A blush creeps on your cheek when you realize that you had been caught shamelessly staring at him.

"Yeah, I'm fine. It's been almost two years since we last met," you reply as you place your tray on the counter. The cashier then tells you the price, and as you're about to open your purse, Nanami offers to pay for you. You politely decline, but he ignores you and continues to pay for your croissant and quiche. Not only he is hot, but he's also a gentleman! You can feel your heart skip a beat.

"Thanks, Ken," you say as both of you walk out of the bakery.

"No problem."

"Do you still use the same phone number?" you ask because he's no longer active in the group chat. You once considered texting him privately, but you were too shy, plus you didn't know what to talk about. But you can't lie that you didn't miss him.

"Yes, feel free to text me if you need help with anything."

"Okay. So, how's work?"

"Just fine. Nothing great about it. How about you? Any interesting missions lately?"

"I just had a special grade mission three days ago. But of course, there was Satoru to supervise me. And he ended up saving my ass too," you chuckle at the memory of the mission. At first, you were annoyed that the higher-ups wanted Satoru to go with you, but after the mission, you were relieved that he was there. If not for him, you wouldn't have had the opportunity to see this brand-new and smoking-hot Nanami.

"I still remember his annoying face and his terrible jokes. By the way, are you free this weekend? Maybe we could go out for lunch. There's a lot to catch up on."

Oh my god! Yes, yes, yes! You can't believe Nanami just asked you out! Since when is he the type to catch up with other people's lives? Not that you care to begin with. What you only care about is that he asked you out!

A/N: Guys wish me luck for my teacher interview tomorrow 😭 I have to do teaching simulation fully in Arabic which I'm not fluent in and lack in vocab(I regret choosing Arabic for the subject) 😩. There's also a fitness test and one of them is the bleep test. I haven't run for so long 😰 Kinda freaking out right now... 🤢

[tabathawillet]

My first post! 😹 I’m still not super tumblr savvy yet so forgive me.

‼️WARNING‼️

RHRN SPOILERS….

My theory after watching the movie.

I was never a ‘Terzo is coming back’ believer but after watching the movie three times it makes me think maybe it could be.

1. The twins: one had light hair and one had dark, Copia had lighter hair than Terzo.

2. Sister said everything is circulation, which means things come back around.

3. There are lots of theories about him not being actually dead. In their virtual game, it said Terzo didn’t have an autopsy. His foot moved in the morgue, the scratches on the coffin, Etc. (I personally don’t believe the magazine cover with Copia holding Terzo’s head is “cannon” but even so, Tobias sometimes retcons his own lore, but i believe he does it purposely) I think if Terzo were the other twin (meaning he is imperator’s son too) she wouldn’t have killed him, besides it makes sense that COPIA was the “secret” twin because Nihil wasn’t aware of him at first, he didn’t even know Imperator was Copia’s mother, because although he’s a dickhead I’m sure he can do the math, so it makes sense that she gave him the son that looked more like him (Terzo) and kept Copia a secret. I also don’t know how she would have finally told all her truths on her deathbed to ease her mind and kept the other twin a secret.

4. Copia’s name means copy and everyone said he was a copy of Terzo. Their original hairstyles were similar. They had the same style and aesthetic. They even do some of the same moves and rifts with songs. So maybe it’s been in our face the whole time, as is often the case with Tobias hiding things in plain sight.

5. When Copia was introduced sister said someone “slightly younger” we all assumed Terzo’s age because of the “he’s three months younger than Secondo” thing, but in the movie Nihil said that he’s 80 and for now let’s consider the 4 sons he has: the Papas. In the new song, it’s based in 1969, it said 15 years was 1984 & 55 years was 2024. So Copia is 55, I could easily see Terzo as 55 too, he wasn’t graying yet when he “died” and neither was Copia at that time. In fact sometime last year the mask maker that Tobias uses posted a Copia looking mask with Terzo’s black hair.

6. The whole shoe bit in the movie seemed like a nod to Terzo’s hole in his shoe and served no other purpose that I could think of.

7. The movie is literally titled from a Terzo song, and in that video at the end there are two Terzos and that’s where Copia was introduced. If I’m not mistaken Tobias did an interview and said there was another hint in that video that no one caught yet.

8. I think Tobias is a genius and he knows Terzo was a fan favorite and he has potential, he became a favorite BEFORE Ghost really blew up from MOAC. But I don’t think he will be the one who tours. I think Terzo will be used in the chapters. The movie went out of its way to explain some lore to us that we already knew JUST so it could be pointed out that “Technically” Copia is the “5th Papa”. Copia didn’t want to stop touring, he asked “who’s in charge” and at the end it’s him, he could totally say no I’m not done and continue touring while we have some great content online of the brothers bickering especially now that I think we will do all the chapters with Alex the director now. I believe the chapters are about to massively increase in quality and production.

9. I also think the soundtrack might be the only album we get this year, if the interview with Richie is correct and he’s doing things with Ghost in November. Also there was a recent post about someone from Iron Maiden being asked if Ghost would tour with them later this year and he said no Ghost wants to do an arena tour. Copia (as Cardinal) and Terzo both did 3 years of tours so a third leg of this last album cycle isn’t out of the question especially after the issues they encountered on the last tour with venues/weather/cancelled shows.

10. Finally and this is just my hopeful thinking. I don’t think Tobias would take Copia from us when we didn’t have a fair chance to “meet” him at meet and greets as Papa. There was only the small opportunity during the 2022 tour with masks and plexiglass and it wasn’t ideal. I just don’t feel like he’s okay with that, but maybe it’s just my wishful thinking! 😹

[kiandrathepeahenangel]

(not a Cardiophile post, sorry 😞)

I really want to share my experience with my first lover

Well call him T to shorten it

You've probably heard a little about things he had done to me (posts against me, faking his death for my attention ecc.)

The thing is, I realized how toxic and bad he was just now

I was MADLY in love with him

Like seriously, I wrote his name everywhere (even on the walls lol)

At about 1/2 months into our relationship, he revealed to me that he had cheated on me, that he flirted with another girl

I forgave him (honestly I should have left him there)

Then, on discord calls, he would make fun of me, with his friend. It wasn't nice

I often cried because of that

And actually felt sad when he joined a call sometimes

Once, I told my friend Francesco that he made fun of me, I don't remember what he told me, but once, me, him, my ex, and his friend were in a call, and he kept making fun of me as I was playing Ark.

At one point me and Francesco left the call and went to talk privately, and I cried, oh boy did I cry

Poor Francesco, I kept faking that I disliked him so I could make my ex and his friends like me more, and it hurt

During our relationship, there was this girl, I'll call her D

He was attached to her like a magnet

He didn't leave her side, he actually started talking to her instead of me.

He actually made a roleplay in which he was his girlfriend

While still in a relationship with me

I mean, I got mad at him, and he actually was able to make me think I was the problem and not him

The thing I realized most recently is how messed up he is

We both revealed to each other our fetishes, you all know my fetish

He has a fetish for obese people

I think you understand what I'm talking about

And, I didn't say anything, because I don't feel like I'm In a position to judge a person by their fetishes

The thing is that he wanted me to get fatter

He was telling me to do exercises to make my butt bigger for him

He was telling me to change my whole body for him

He made me take pictures with pillows under my shirt to make me seem fatter

And in exchange, I asked him for heartbeat recordings

NOT EVEN ONCE did I force him to do exercises. NEVER.

I once asked him to hold his breath, though

Still

Now, after we broke up, he went insane

He insulted me several times (called me a whore)

Then, he exposed my messages about my friends to those friends (they all insulted me) and made them turn against me

Yeah, they said sorry...but you can't insult a person for being themselves and then be like "I'm sorry"

Then, he made public posts about me (told private stuff, exposed to everyone I was bisexual like it was a bad thing, and put me in a bad light)

He kept finding ways to talk to me, he even expected me to put him in my comics, series ecc. And when I told him I'm not comfortable with that, he insulted me yet again and accused me of trying to separate him from his friends

He always found a way to fucking talk to me, even if I didn't want to

And now, he faked being hacked and his own death for my attention to see if I still cared about him.

That's the last straw.

If he tries to talk to me again, I'll fucking take legal action, I'm sorry, I can't stand this anymore

The best thing is that while in a relationship with me, he never watched my YouTube videos, or posts

After I left him, he now watches everything, and even reacted to my video once

He says he still loves me, as if I would come back to him

He is a psychopath. I don't think otherwise.

Tell me what you think, and thank you for taking your time to read this💓