#sorry I just you know am feeling too much

[woniedarlin]

He listens while you yap

pairings: boyfriend! enhypen x reader | listener x yapper trope

caution: be prepared for their randomness (•‿•)

author's note: This is my first time trying something like this, and I thought, why not switch things up? If you enjoyed it and want more like this, just let me know! Happy reading!

permanent tag list: @sol3chu @chlorinecake @13tter @jung1w0n

HEESEUNG

You explained an article you found earlier and made an especially interesting point. “So, apparently, there’s this theory about how—wait, are you even listening?” you paused mid-sentence then glancing up at Heeseung.

He was just staring at you the entire time.

“Am I talking too much?” you asked, feeling embarrassed. Was he bored? You might have been talking for hours...well, you were.

“I’m sorry,” you added. Feeling guilty.

Heeseung tilted his head slightly. His lips formed a gentle smile that quickly made you feel comfortable. “No, not at all. I’m just listening,” he said gently. “You always have the most interesting things to say.”

You blinked. For a moment, you were caught off guard by his words.. “Really? Because I’m pretty sure I’m just rambling about random stuff half the time.”

He chuckled softly while shaking his head. “Not to me. You make even the most ordinary things sound extraordinary. Like you’re breathing life into them.”

“Come on, that’s a bit much,” you teased though you were shy with his words.

He shook his head slowly. “It’s not. You could talk about the lifespan of jellyfish, and I’d still want to hear every word.”

You laughed. “Seriously? Jellyfish?”

“Yup,” he said with a grin. Heeseung’s eyes crinkling at the corners. “I don’t think you realize how much I enjoy hearing you talk.”

You looked at him for a moment. Your laughter turned into a warmer feeling. “You always know how to make me feel special, right?”

Heeseung smiled more. “I’m just telling the truth. You’re the one who makes everything feel special.”

Your heart swelled at his words, and you couldn’t help but grin. “You’re too good at this, you know. No wonder everyone’s always talking about how sweet you are.”

He lightly shrugged. “Only for you.”

JAY

You plopped down next to Jay on the couch, “Last night, I dreamed I was a bottle of ketchup,” you said, not even glancing at him.

Jay didn’t even look up from what he was doing, though you knew he was listening. “Oh?”

“Yeah. And you were mustard. Which is weird because you’re usually mayonnaise in my dreams.” You said it matter-of-factly.

Jay glanced over at you and gave a small smile. Your boyfriend didn’t even question it anymore.

“Mhm. We were sitting on a picnic table, minding our own business,” you continued, staring blankly ahead. “Then this kid comes over, grabs you, and squeezes you all over a hot dog.”

“Of course,” Jay muttered, his smile still there.

“And then they grabbed me and put me on french fries,” you said, your voice now lighter. “But even though we were on different foods, we ended up on the same plate.”

Jay gave you a soft look. “Of course you did.”

“Yup. It’s like… no matter what, we always end up together,” you said nonchalantly. “Even if we’re on different things, we’ll always end up on the same plate.”

Jay didn’t react much, just looking at you with that same fond smile. “Ketchup and mustard, huh? That’s one way to put it.”

“Yep.” You nodded as if you were completely confident in the analogy. “It’s like fate, you know?”

Jay leaned back. “Fate. Of course. You’re the ketchup, and I’m the mustard.”

“Exactly,” you said, kicking your legs a little. “I mean, I’m obviously the star of the show, but you do make a good sidekick.”

Jay laughed quietly to himself, shaking his head. “You’re the star, hm?”

“Of course,” you said, completely unfazed, “but you still belong next to me.”

“Right,” Jay replied with a small, affectionate smile. “Next to you, always.”

And just like that, he continues to look at you with the same smile as you continue to talk, absolutely in love with you.

JAKE

You were pacing around the room, hands gesturing wildly as you went off about the movie you’d just watched. “And don’t even get me started on the plot twist—like, I saw it coming from a mile away! But, still, how could they—ugh, I can’t wrap my head around it!”

Jake sat on the couch with one arm stretched across the backrest. “Go on, tell me more,” he said, his voice smooth and teasing.

“Okay, but can we talk about that scene? The main character falls—of course—and she’s like, ‘Save yourself!’” You rolled your eyes dramatically. “Like, girl, what? Just get up! Run with your friend! Why are you making it so dramatic?”

“Mhm,” he hummed, clearly holding back a laugh.

You kept going, utterly oblivious to his gaze. “I mean, realistically, if I fall, I’m grabbing your arm and dragging you down with me. We’re both going down. There’s no ‘save yourself’ moment. You’re coming with me.”

Jake chuckled, shaking his head. “Good to know.”

“And the friend?” you continued, throwing your hands up. “She’s just standing there, like, ‘Noooo!’ for too long. Like, hello? Help her up and run!”

Jake leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “You’d definitely survive in a movie.”

“Oh, absolutely,” you said, pointing at him. “I’m not wasting time with emotional goodbyes. We’re both making it out, or no one is.”

Jake grinned, his voice dropping just slightly. “So, you’d save me?”

You froze for a second before narrowing your eyes. “Obviously. I’d even ensure you didn’t trip in the first place.”

He laughed softly. “And here I was, thinking you’d be the one tripping on purpose just to get me to catch you.”

Your jaw dropped. “I would NOT!”

Jake smirked. “You totally would.”

“I’d be saving both of us!”

“You’re hot,”

You froze. “What?”

“You heard me,” he said.

Of course, he had to flirt.

You crossed your arms tighter, fighting back a smile. “Okay… what? That’s random. You’re distracting me.”

“That’s kind of my thing, isn’t it?” Jake grinned wider, tilting his head. “Admit it, baby.”

You shook your head with a sigh. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” But the way your heart fluttered at his words? You couldn’t deny it.

SUNGHOON

You paced around the room as you got lost in recounting the day. “And I visited my parents today! I missed them so much…it was the best.”

Finally, you stopped mid-stride and turned to face him, hands on your hips. “Okay, are you even listening? Or are you zoning out again?”

You have seen your boyfriend zoning out often, especially in the mornings. You wouldn’t be surprised if today were one of those days.

But he chuckled softly, wanting to assure you. “I’m listening. I always do.”

You tilted your head. “Even when I’m rambling about stuff that’s probably unimportant?”

“Especially then,” he said, his dimples appearing as his smile grew wider. “I like hearing you talk. It makes me happy.”

Your arms crossed, though you couldn’t fight the grin pulling at your lips. “You like when I yap on and on?”

“Not the yapping part,” Sunghoon teased. “It’s the way you’re so happy when you talk. You’re glowing, and I can’t look away.”

That made your cheeks heat up. “I’m just telling you about my day.”

“I know,” he said softly. “But you light up when you talk about the things you love. I could listen to you all day. It’s comforting.”

“Comforting?” you echoed, raising an eyebrow. Oh?

He nodded as his eyes began to soften. “Yeah. It’s like you’re letting me see a part of you no one else does.”

Your lips curved into a smile. “I never thought I’d be comforting while going on about my life.”

Sunghoon’s smile grew. “You’d be surprised.”

SUNOO

“…and I don’t even know why they didn’t just say that in the first place! Would it have been so hard? Honestly…” you trailed off, glancing at Sunoo, watching you with the softest smile.

You blinked. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?” he asked, his smile widening.

“Like you’re completely entertained by my nonsense.”

“Because I am,” Sunoo admitted without hesitation. “I love it when you yap.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Yap?”

“Yeah.” He nodded. “You go off about the most random things, and I love it. It’s my favorite background noise.”

You playfully gasped. “Background noise? You’re saying I’m noise?” How dare he?!

“Sweet noise,” he corrected, grinning cheekily. “The kind I never want to tune out.”

You rolled your eyes, but there was no hiding the blush on your cheeks. “So you want me to keep going?”

Sunoo nodded eagerly. “Of course! Why do you think I never interrupt you?”

Tilting your head, suspicious. “What if I talk about like….I don’t know... talk about socks?”

He laughed softly. “You don’t realize how cute you are when you get all caught up in your little stories.”

You tried to fight the smile tugging at your lips but gave up quickly. “Fine. But you’re stuck with me talking forever.”

Sunoo’s eyes sparkled. “Lucky me.”

JUNGWON

You were sprawled on the carpet while Jungwon sat next to you, quietly listening with that ever-patient expression.

“…and I don’t get it! Why would you even bring a cat to a grocery store? What’s the cat gonna do? Pick out your produce?” You threw your hands up, exasperated. “Next thing you know, they’ll be pushing their pets in carts like it’s totally normal.”

Jungwon blinked at you. You can see his lips twitching.

You squinted. “You’re holding back a laugh, aren’t you?”

“No,” he said, lips pressed together tightly.

“Yes, you are!” You pointed at him accusingly. “You’re trying so hard not to laugh right now.”

He cracked. His shoulders shook as he let out a small giggle. But then it escalated. His hand flew to his stomach, and he was laughing so hard that he tipped backward.

“HAHAHAHAHA OH MY—AHHHH HA HA HA HA!”

You sat there, wide-eyed. “Is it that funny?”

He nodded, tears forming at the corners of his eyes as he tried to catch his breath. “It’s not even the story! It’s you! You’re so serious about the ridiculous things—AHHH HA HA AHH HAHA—I can’t!”

You crossed your arms, pouting. “I was making a valid point.”

“I know, I know!” Jungwon wheezed, wiping his eyes. “But you looked so offended! Like, personally attacked by the cat in the store.”

“Well, someone had to say it!”

Jungwon shook his head. “You’re too much.”

You huffed. “I don’t know why I put up with you.”

“Because you love me,” he teased, his laughter finally calming down.

You rolled your eyes but smiled despite yourself. “Maybe.”

“Definitely,” he said, still grinning. “Now, please. Keep going. I need another good laugh.”

NI-KI

You were going on about how your day went, and Ni-ki, leaning against the doorframe, watched you as he kept grinning. He wasn’t saying much but teasing you with every detail you mentioned. “Wow, you don’t stop talking, huh?” Ni-ki said with a smirk.

You raised an eyebrow. You do not want to back down. Especially to him. “I’m just sharing my day, okay? You don’t have to listen if it’s too much.”

“Oh, I’m listening,” Ni-ki said as he stepped forward. “I just didn’t know you had this much to say. You’ve been talking for hours, baby.”

You shot him a look, unfazed. “Oh, please. You know I talk plenty, just not to you.”

Ni-ki chuckled, pushing himself off the doorframe and walking over to you. “I think you talk to me more than you realize. You just don’t want to admit it.”

You scoffed, crossing your arms. “I don’t know about that.”

“Uh-huh. You’re giving me the full lecture today. You can’t hide it,” he teased. “And honestly, I’m enjoying it.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to act indifferent. “Of course you are; you love it when I talk.”

Ni-ki shrugged dramatically. “Guilty as charged. Your yapping is one of my favorite things. Keeps me entertained.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at how easily he could get under your skin, even with his teasing. “Well, I hope you’re ready for more because I’m not stopping anytime soon.”

“Bring it on,” Ni-ki said with a wink, clearly looking forward to hearing all of it.

[dirtylittlesecre7]

Oh my gosh— someone who writes for nam-gyu? Am I dreaming?! I CANNOT find any fics of him!! Need headcannons about him rn😩 I feel like that man would enjoy making you cry and upset, like he would grin and laugh while doing so. (Cough— Hatefuck—cough..) Just need headcannons about that man so bad😩🫣

This is actually my first time asking, so I really don't know what to say🥲 but I hope you consider this🫶🫶🫶

-🌟anon

warning | nsfw content

word count | 0,6k

a/n | thank you so much for your request luv! I hope I could write something as you wanted

！he's had mixed feelings from the moment he first saw you. hate? anger? like?

oh no, not like. he just hates you so much that he wants to fuck you until you know your place.

"fucking bitch."

"huh?" thanos looked at him incomprehensibly, about to turn his head to you, but nam-gyu quickly changed the subject "nothing."

！he's insanely jealous of thanos👀 even if you don't respond to his flirting, seeing a man next to you makes him angry enough. at least it gives him a reason to make you cry more.

！he should be the only one who annoys you. if he sees someone picking on you, he'll quickly intervene, at first he'll protect you from that person, but then...

"are you too stupid to not protect yourself? no. don't even think about crying." his emotionless voice makes you tremble as he watches you quickly wipe your tears away "good. don't you dare unless I make those tears flow."

！he likes to tease you until you cry because he thinks you look so beautiful with tears in your eyes. If you turn your head and try to hide your face from him, he will forcefully grab your chin and make you look at him with your eyes full of tears. you will see that he is trying to calm down by taking a deep breath because oh...you have no idea how horny he is.

！If he can't sleep at night, he will come to your bed and bother you. If he can't sleep, you can't sleep either. but strangely, talking at night is when you get along the most. guess you are both too tired to argue, but that doesn't mean he won't say a few things about you.

okay, now please hear me out..

！this man is completely clingy when he loves you, but he is also hard when he fucks you, I can't say he doesn't like slow sex, but when he can fuck you like crazy, he doesn't really think about the other option.

！I say clingy because he can never be comfortable if his hand is not on your body in some way. he has to touch you in some way so that he feels better. when you least expect it, you may find his hands on your waist pulling you closer to him "mm...look who's here?"

！If we talk about life outside of the game, you can become his only world. yes, he likes to make you cry and upset. but only you. the others have never caught his attention and they don't. he still thinks you have the most beautiful tears.

！I can't say he's very loud in bed. he'll mostly let out short gasps and short moans. he likes listening to you more, whine for him and he'll make you see stars.

！he likes to tease you and make you cum so much that you cry from sensitivity. when you beg him to stop, he just puckers his lower lip in a mocking tone.

"aw.. does it hurt? what should I do?" he leans into your ear while his fingers, which don't stop, hit the inside of your pussy hard while you just had your 3rd orgasm "Is that all you can take? c'mon.. you can give me more, hm? ah..yes don't hide your voice from me, fuck-"

！he'll run his hand over you while you're sleeping at night, sorry not sorry. when you open your eyes and notices how his fingers are expertly tangled in your wetness, he'll smirk and say "you awake? good. now you better spread your legs for me and be loud as possible."

he's obsessed with you in some way, romantic or not, and he has no plans to leave your side.

[k1mbe3rly]

Could you maybe do a smut with Dom!female!reader(xmin-su/player 125) with a mommy kink? You dont have to if you dont want to!

my dream 😩🥵

𝓢𝓽𝓪𝔂 𝓼𝓲𝓵𝓮𝓷𝓽

warnings: smut, mommy kink, public sex, a small bit of overstimulation

(a bit short 😢)

It was lights out, everyone was sleeping and quiet, expect for the soft noises of whimpers and heavy breathing.

You were naked waist down and so was Min-su. A blanket tried to cover yall but kept falling over, behind those tiny blankets was min-su desperately trying muffle his moans against your clothed shoulder as you rode him.

You were moaning softly as a hand was on a metal bar of the bunk bed and the other tangling in his hair, you looked at him as he looks up at you with teary eyes, “M-mommy please..mm!! too much!~” he moaned out as he gripped on your hips tightly. “You can take it baby…i know you can, just be a good boy, you can do that for me right?” you told him, he nodded.

you tighten your walls around his cock, the moment he felt you tighten he moaned out again as you quickly cover his mouth “Shh..don’t wanna get caught huh?” you said as you stopped your movements

He whined out as he slowly started to go quiet and you removed your hand, “mommy.. please..” he said looking up at you with puppy eyes, “Hm? please what? use your words..” You said to him stroking his hair, “Please keep fucking me..” he said while moving his hands up and down your hips, you smirked down at him, you begin bouncing on his cock, “a-agh~ mommy~!” he moaned out, “shh baby!” you quickly told him but didn’t stop your movements, “mm-..mommy i can’t..f-feels too g-good” he whimpered out between moans, he bit his lip but all that came out were whines. You went a bit faster as he gasped out “mmmm-! m’gonna cum! gonna cum! can i cum inside you mommy please?” he whimpered out as he gasped between moans and whines as well.

You didn’t answer him, basically ignoring him, it was until you felt your walls being painted by his cum. You slowed your movements, “Did you just cum inside me without permission?” you told him sternly “..m’sorry you didn’t answer me! and i couldn’t hold it mommy..” he said in guilt as you grabbed his chin lifting it up, you gave him a soft slap to the face as he gasped, “mommy please don’t be mad at me! i..i really am sorry!” he said as he tried to put his hands under your shirt.

You scoffed at him and smirked, “it’s okay baby.. but you know, mommy didn’t cum.” you said grinding down on him, “w-what? i thought you did!” he said as i let out a soft moan once he felt you grinding, you shaked your head as you begin bouncing harshly on his cock again, he moaned out as he felt your ass slam into his thighs, he gasped out breathlessly as his eyes rolled back slightly, “W-wait! m-mommy!~ my- my cock is too- augh~! too sensitive! too much~!” he whimpered out while trying to push your hips away while whining

he didn’t bother quieting down his whimpers, you felt your orgasm rise as you panted a moaned a bit, “fuckk- shh it’s okay baby, i’m about to cum.. you can take a bit more right baby?” you said out of breath a bit and sweaty, he quickly nodded squirming his hips a bit, he put his hands back into your shirt gripping onto your tits, you felt his cock twitch inside you, with one final bounce you cummed on his cock and slowed down gasping a bit, he quickly cummed right after you as he looked at you, he was a mess, sweat dripping and his hair sticking to his forehead, you slowly grinded again “N-no! please no more! i can’t.. cum anymore!” he quickly said as you chuckled “I’m just joking baby.. i’m tired” you said kissing his cheek and slowly lifting yourself.

Let’s just hope these people are a deep sleeper or else y’all gonna get weird stares in the morning..

[itsoutrageouss]

pt.1 pt.2 pt.3

Part four of Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley seeing you cry for the first time, due to demand which I am (so) grateful for. Simon’s accidentally a little mean at the wrong time lol- readers on her period.

It’s the second time Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley sees you cry that he looses himself into some kind of caretaker instinct.

The last time it had happened, it was after a brutal mission where he’d found you as a crying heap on the floor. So naturally his heart started pounding painfully in his chest when he creaked the door open to your room and saw you curled in bed, sniffling softly.

Once again the vulnerability you showed seemed to hurl him away like a storm. It was such a precious, private side of you and he wanted to go on his knees for you in thanks for allowing him to see it.

He’s by your side with three stalking striders, crouching down next to the bed. His hand hovers over your waist, then your shoulder, then your face because he doesn’t know if he can, or even where he should touch you right now, your shoulders shaking as your head nuzzles into your tear stained pillow.

“Hey. Stop.” He says, voice almost holding a small tremble, laced with panic because as much as he adored this side of you, he wanted you to smile again. Please?

You didn’t respond, only curled further away like an uninterested cat. He frowns and then grabs your neck, gently turning it until you meet his gaze. He wants to gasp at how pretty you look with glistening, red cheeks and glossy eyes, lashes sticking together as you pout at him.

“What is it lovie?” The nickname slips before he knows how to stop it and he winces internally, tensing. But it seems to coax you to nuzzle your face into his hand instead, and he keeps it completely still, scared that a single movement would scare you away. He feels your cold cheek press into his palm, itching to curl his fingers into the soft skin.

“Nothing” you whine.

He huffs. Jesus Christ.

“Nothing, yeah? That’ why you’re crying like a baby?” He smiles, eyes crinkling behind the mask but yours have closed and he sees your face contort into more sadness, more crying and his eyes go wide, immediately holding you a little tighter.

“No! No, shit, sweet’eart it was a joke” he says quickly, voice urgent. You usually took all his teasing with great stride or an even better comeback, but seeing you cry even more because of him made a strange knot form in his throat that he couldn’t seem to swallow down.

You demonstratively turn your back to him on the bed. It was actually insane to him, seeing you like this. You were always sharp, focused, witty; slapping Johnny and Simon on the arm when they start bantering too much on the way to a mission.

He was sort of addicted to it, he thought, as even your back turning made something warm flutter in his stomach as he reached for your shoulder, entire hand able to envelop it and tug gently.

“M’ sorry? M’ sorry just… talk to me.” Silence ensues.

“Please.” The word falls unnaturally from his lips.

It seems to be the keyword because your head turns painfully slow until you blink up at him, now with a slight scowl.

“It hurts” you whisper, bottom lip jutting out. He immediately pulls your cover down to your thigh to start looking you over for injuries but your cold hands tug his wrist and puts his palms over your lower stomach. He blinks.

“You pregnant?” He blurts.

Your eyes widen and he swears he sees a hint of a smile and triumph floods his system. “No you idiot! I’m on my period. Cramps!” You say with a shake of your head, eyes closing for a beat.

He was a bloody idiot to be fair. A lot of things from today seemed to click for him when you said that, and his shoulders relax, head tilting as his eyes narrow, framed by the black mask. His hands on your stomach fan out, thumbs stroking the skin under your shirt. He feels your muscles tighten at his touch.

“Sensitive?” He muses.

“Shut it” you mumble, looking away and trying not to let the enjoyment of his touch show too much, but your eyes flutter closed and he could practically hear you purring. But he doesn’t say anything, once again afraid he’ll ruin this little bubble that you’ve let him be a part of, for reasons he doesn’t understand.

After long minutes of comfortable silence, his hands running over the expanse of your stomach, caressing and massaging softly, he sees your lips part in soft breaths. Slowly and lingering, his hands retreat so he doesn’t do anything stupid. But you whine, immediately noticing the lack of his touch, even in your half asleep state, grabbing for him. His jaw flexes as he tried not to smile.

“M’ gonna run you a bath, lovie. I’ll be right back.” He promised, suddenly turning into some kind of caretaker role he never thought he wanted to be. Until you came along and now he finds himself wanting to do all kinds of things for you, after seeing how you reacted to his touch. The scrunch of your brows when he tells you he’ll run you a bath gives him a high he can ride for days.

He’s just trying to repay how sweetly you bandaged his hands weeks ago. To repay how you played along to his little story at the last mission about how you and him had met.

Trying to repay these insatiable and foreign feelings you brought forth in him, so you wouldn’t take them away. Ever.

Now maybe he just had to actually tell you about them? No. No way. The thought was forced from his mind immediately.

[the-witty-pen-name]

The Love Triangle From Hell (3)

Steve Harrington x F!Reader / Eddie Munson x F!Reader

Synopsis: Following PART TWO, Steve feels even more distant from his friends- especially you; Eddie reflects on memories he has of you two; Nancy and Jonathan work together for the paper; Robin does her best to navigate what being friends with you and Steve looks like; you seek comfort in one of the only ways you know how- calling Eddie

Series Masterlist

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: messy messy feelings; unrequited love; cursing; arguments; crying; angst angst angsty angst; allusions to violence; miscommunication; jealousy; kissing; implications of smut; horniness

A/N: You guys are literally the absolute best. I am having the best time writing this- I'm so inspired by all of you. The love you have shown this fic so far has me overwhelmed. Thank you for your kind words, you have helped me work through some serious writer's block. Your comments and reblogs are keeping me going fr

This is unedited; please let me know what you think and if I missed anything I should include as a warning.

This series with be 18+ in later chapters MINORS DNI

His hands are tangled in your hair and he’s pulling you in close for another searing kiss. He can’t catch his breath, but he’s just so desperate to stay close to you like this. Your lips are so soft against his and your mouth is so inviting as you yank him closer. You whimper against his lips and it makes him shiver. He feels weak in the knees as you feel so pliable to his touch. You melt into his embrace and sigh happily as his lips trail down your neck. 

“Want you,” you moan softly, tugging his hair. He groans at the sensation. “Need you so bad.” 

“‘M gonna take care of you,” he promises, bringing his lips back to yours. 

“Love you,” you moan.

Before he finds out  if he says it back, his alarm goes off and he’s brought back to his reality. He groans disappointedly, covering his ears with his pillow- desperate for a couple more minutes with dream you. There’s a bang at his door. 

“Steve! Turn that shit off!” Eddie calls from the other side of the door. He’s yelling but his tone is playful. Steve hits his alarm off and drudges out of bed finally. Eddie has coffee made and Steve forgets anything is wrong at the moment. 

“Did she say anything last night?” Steve asks groggily as he pours himself a cup. 

“Um, not really,” Eddie replies, taking a moment to think about it. “I mean, yes but not about anything that we don’t know already. She’s conflicted, she doesn’t know what to think or feel. She just wants time.” 

“Okay,” Steve replies, leaning up against the counter. He takes a sip of his coffee. He needs to get to work. He can talk about this with Robin when he gets there. 

When you called Eddie, you didn’t expect Steve to answer. You thought maybe he’d say something- you wanted him too. But he didn’t. You couldn’t read him anymore.

Eddie was thrilled to hear your voice. He’d missed you, and he’d missed talking to you. He wanted that piece back as soon as he could get it. He reveled in the way his name sounded coming from you. 

“I’m so sorry,” you apologize, “I didn’t mean to upset Steve- I heard the way he dropped the phone down…” 

“It’s okay sweetheart,” he says compassionately. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” 

He’s met with a sad feeling of silence. 

“I’m happy you called,” he says gently. He hopes the sentiment makes you feel better. 

“I’ve missed you,” you admit, and Eddie feels like his heart might swell out of his chest. 

“It’s hard when the two people who you talk about everything with are the people you want to talk about,” you joke, and he laughs with you. 

“You can talk shit about me,” he teases and he hears you groan. He bites his lip, holding back a smile. 

“How are you doing?” You ask, changing the subject. 

“Much better now,” he flirts. 

“How are you doing, really?” You ask again, your voice sounding more fragile. 

“I meant, honestly- not great. But not worse than anyone else is doing right now.” 

“Yeah…” 

“I miss you a lot too,” he admits. He runs a hand through his hair, and it reminds him of how amazing it felt the last time you played with his hair. He’s craving that touch so badly. 

When you both were in high school, Eddie went out of his way to make sure you always had a seat at the table. He’d notice as you stood with your cafeteria tray, waiting for Steve to realize there was no open seat for you at his table. He’d wave obnoxiously to catch your eye and he’d smile at the way you’d get shy from the attention. He’d point at the empty seat next to him, and he’d grin as your eyes light up in realization you had a spot. You’d shuffle through the crowd and take your seat next to him. You’d take a seat and ruffle his hair in your hands. 

Eddie was always a creature of habit. As much as he exudes chaos, he actually thrives in having a routine. Don’t get him wrong- it’s never been a good routine… but it’s routine nonetheless. In high school it was a lot of the same. Tuesdays, Corroded Coffin played at The Hideout. He would get home way too late and never get in bed until close to 3am. Wednesday mornings, he’d sleep through his alarm and stroll into first period consistently 10ish minutes late. Thursdays he prepped for Hellfire, and then of course, the piece the resistance was Friday. Hellfire. An epic campaign that would run several hours and ensure the most recent shit week had been worth it to make it to that moment. 

He remembers that he was paralyzed when the group proposed to postpone Hellfire one time his first senior year. It snaps him out of his thoughts, as he was so wrapped up in you- and how close you were sitting. Eddie knew that hypothetically, it shouldn’t matter if the date changes. However, he couldn’t wrap his head around change. He hated it- still does. A disruption from his status quo throws off his entire week and it will take him too long to mentally recover. He knew that he came off as a hard ass, but he prefers it than trying to explain his mind to his friends. He had felt  his jaw tighten as he tried to rationalize with himself that it can be okay to switch it up. He unclenched his fists once he realized that he was making his knuckles white unintentionally. 

“Uh yeah, no problem. Saturday’s fine,” he was able to manage through gritted teeth. He relaxed when he could look past himself and see his friends smile, thanking him and happily chatting about the campaign. He smiled when he observed that his decision made everyone happy. That for him outweighed the internal struggle. 

He didn’t really listen to the reason everyone wanted to reschedule, but he picked up on after the fact that everyone is talking about the Snow Ball. He couldn’t help but recoil back into himself as his friends talked about their plans to go- who they’re asking, what suit they’re getting, what songs would play, and whatever. He couldn’t have cared less. Unless… 

His eyes wandered to sneak a glance at you. He wondered if you had plans- maybe you're hoping someone asks you. Maybe, he’s lucky and you were hoping that someone would be him. He wondered if you had a date. Maybe you already had been asked. It’s not like you had been aware of the way Eddie’s felt about you- unrequited feelings that tugged on his focus constantly since he’s known you. You caught his eye and offered him a shy smile and he could crumble. 

Eddie immediately averted his gaze, and focused his attention back on his friends. He ignored the way his face suddenly became so warm and he ignored the butterflies that were swarming around in his stomach. He couldn’t allow himself to dwell on these feelings- he knew that there’s no way you feel the same. Who could possibly like him? 

He felt a pressure when the freshman looked at him, one of them having asked Eddie about his own plans. Eddie sees the way the kids look up to him, they idolize him. He knows they think he’s cool. He can’t let that go just yet, he loved it too much. He needed it. He wanted to have them hang on to this version of him for as long as they’d believe in it. 

So, despite his usual distaste in school sanctioned functions, he did not want to allow the kids to think he couldn’t score a date. He could only blame society so much before they realized it’s actually his own fear of putting himself out there that cramped his dating life more than anything else. He then resolves that he needs a date to this dance. He tells himself that it’s for the freshman, to keep up the cool facade or whatever. But in actuality, he just wanted to ask you because he wants to ask you out. It’s his perfect window of opportunity. 

“Oh, I hadn’t thought about it, honestly,” you said, when one of the freshmen asked you if you had plans. “I’d been so busy with the play, I haven’t had a chance.” Eddie watched as you glanced over to Steve’s table. “Steve and I usually would go to this kinda thing,” you said quickly, and Eddie could see your apprehension despite your best attempt to hide it. “We’ll probably go as friends again.” 

He said nothing. 

A few days later, you called Eddie and he could immediately tell you’re upset. You’re doing your best to hold it together but he can tell you’re almost at your breaking point. 

“Hey,” you say, your voice straining as you try not to cry. “I know this is totally not your thing, but I’m kind of in a bind.” 

“What can I do?” He asked, sitting up straight on his bed. He was getting ready to locate his shoes or his keys- thinking you’re in trouble somewhere. He’ddrop anything to come get you. 

“I know you’d probably rather do literally anything else, but um, I have two tickets to the Snow Ball and I already bought a dress…” 

“I thought you’d be going with Steve?” He asked. You sniffled. 

“Um, yeah I kind of just assumed he’d take me. I didn’t realize that he asked out Nancy Wheeler,” you choked back tears. “I mean it’s not like that,” you lied, maybe not to Eddie but more to yourself, “we’re just friends. But I still thought He and I would be going together like as friends again- you know? But, uh, yeah- he is taking like a real date.” 

“I know you’d hate it, and I will make it up to you. But, I already bought the tickets and I can’t get my money back. It’s like not a date or anything, just like a friend thing…” 

“I’d be happy to take you,” he replied, sincerely. He can tell you were expecting him to fight you on it. When would you catch on that he’s willing to do anything for you? 

“Eddie, thank you so much,” you sniffled, still trying your best to keep it cool. “I owe you one,” your voice cracks and you hang up quickly before he gets a chance to say anything. 

Eddie didn’t really understand back then why you were even friends with Steve to begin with. Eddie thought Steve, frankly, was a total douchebag. However, once he actually got to know Steve- it was a different story. He couldn’t resent Steve. He loved him like a brother now. And once Eddie got to know the Steve you’ve always known, your feelings for him made sense. But at the same time, Eddie held his tongue for all the things Steve did or didn’t do for so long. Steve was good guy at his core, Eddie understood. But his actions didn’t reflect that in Eddie’s eyes. But it wasn’t his place to tell you that. It didn’t seem right. You’d known Steve so much longer than him. 

Nancy and Jonathan invited you and Robin to go with them to watch Lucas’ basketball game. You were excited to get out of your little apartment and support Lucas. Jonathan was photographing it for The Hawkins Post. Jonathan paced up and down the court side to get photos, and you sat up in the bleachers with Nancy and Robin. You were never one to go to school things really, but it was Lucas’s senior year and it was a big game- of course you were going to be there. 

“It feels weird, Steve not being here,” Nancy whispers to you and you nod in agreement. 

“Yeah, everything just feels weird right now,” you agree. “You and Jonathan are okay?” 

“We’re good. We’re doing good, um, still working through stuff but we’re going to just work through it.” 

“That’s good.” 

“Robin?” Nancy asks, and Robin turns her head to pay attention. “How’s things with Vicky?” 

Robin’s face turns tomato red. “Fine,” she mumbles, happily. “I’m gonna hang out with her tomorrow.” You elbow her teasingly, making her blush redden. 

“How’s it feeling? Being the best at all of this out of us?” You tease. 

“I don’t know,” she’s so embarrassed, it’s so sweet. “We both just like each other- it’s not that complicated. She’s so great.” 

The three of you turn your attention back to the game at the sound of the whistle. You clapped and cheered the loudest whenever Lucas had the ball. He tried to plead with the lot of you to tone it down, casting weary looks in your direction. You couldn’t help yourselves. You felt so proud of him. 

You decide to take a walk to the concession stands and get some snacks for everyone. You order four sodas and two large popcorns- one for Jonathan and Nancy and one for you and Robin. You fish the cash out of the front pocket of your jeans, and hand it to the kid working the window. You thank him, and balance it all in your hands to navigate carefully back to the stands. 

You see a familiar face coming down the hallway, sprinting. For a moment, you can’t help the smile that forms across the expanse of your face until you remember what’s been going on. Your face falls, and you feel so stupid for being excited to see him when it hits you again all at once. 

You don’t think Steve knew you’d all be here, because he looks just as surprised to see you. He stops and his sneakers squeak across the polished gym floor. He looks at you with an expression of pure panic. He totally didn’t think you’d be here. And you’re surprised he came alone- but of course he did, he’s Steve. Of course, he’s going to show up to every game for Lucas. You shouldn’t expect any less. It still takes you back. 

“Can I help with those?” he asked, gesturing for you to pass some stuff to him. You nod, and tilt so he can take some of the things from your grasp. 

“Where are you sitting?” He asks, and you nod your head towards Robin and Nancy. His face deflates. “Ah, okay.” He walks over with you, and he passes the items in his hand off to Robin. He moves aside so you can walk back into your spot. 

“Thanks, Steve,” you offer him a soft smile, appreciating the effort despite the circumstances.

“Yeah of course,” he mutters, backing away, lingering for a moment because the seat that’s usually there for him between you and Robin isn’t there. He quickly pulls himself out of his thoughts and just heads over to the next row of bleachers, finding a seat next to a couple of his old basketball teammates that are here for their little brothers. 

Steve can’t even focus on the game,  he keeps trying to steal glances of you from his peripheral vision. He wants to know what Robin said that made you laugh like that, and he wished he could have heard your laugh- but you’re too far away from him. He watches as your jaw drops at something Nancy tells you, and he watches how you cheer so happily for Lucas. He wants to know if this is bothering you the way it’s bothering him. You look like you’re keeping it together and he wants to know if that could truly be the case. 

Even when you’re carrying so much hurt, you give off such a radiance that Steve and he’s sure everyone else is just drawn into. Your pretty smile and your bright eyes are all he can think about- he only knows when to cheer when he feels the people around him move. He smiles when you stand up and pose, pointing to Lucas- then Lucas matches it, giving it back to you. He watches as you both share that moment of just pure joy, and his heart aches. He doesn’t know if he could ever make you that happy. 

When the game was over, you looked to see if you could find Steve but there was no sign of him. You all invited Lucas to go out for celebratory pizza for his big win, but he wanted to go with his teammates. The plan fizzled pretty much after that. Robin wanted to get home so she could call Vicky and Jonathan and Nancy wanted to head home so Jonathan could start developing his photos. When you and Robin are walking out, you see a familiar van. 

“I’ll bum a ride from Nancy,” Robin assures you, pushing you in Eddie’s direction. She waves to Eddie from a distance and then jogs to catch up with Nancy and Jonathan. 

“What are you doing here?” you ask with a smile. He pushes himself off of the hood of his van and walks over to you, his hands in the back pockets of his jeans. 

“I thought you might be here,” he quips. “Plus, I had to poke my head in- Sinclair is some big shot apparently?” he jokes, “I had to check out for a few minutes.”

“He’s really great,” you agree. 

“Was Steve here?” Eddie asks. 

“Yeah I saw him. He didn’t really stay either- I mean he stayed for the game, but we didn’t talk really.” You shrug. 

“Well,” he says, trying to optimistically change the subject, “Do you wanna get out of here? I could give you a ride home or we could get food or something- or even just drive around and not talk. I’m not picky.” 

He looks so beautiful like this, you observe. The sky is pitch black but the lights in the parking lot illuminate him perfectly with a soft glow. His hair is wonderfully messy and his smile is making it hard for you to breathe. Has he always looked like this? You wonder, astonished as it hits you all at once. He’s gorgeous. Your eyes linger, taking in every little detail you’ve overlooked before. He waves his hand in front of your face to snap you out of your trance. 

“Stop looking at me like that,” he tisks. 

“Looking at you like what?”

“Like you’re trying to jump my bones,” he chuckles. Your face warms, and suddenly you realize how long you must have been staring. 

“Ha, right,” you joke sarcastically, or at least, trying to joke sarcastically. You walk past him and get into the passenger side of the van and try your best to compose yourself in the few seconds it takes for him to follow suit. 

“Okay, sweetheart,” he says, turning over the ignition, “where to?”

“Can we just drive around like we used to?” you ask- the circumstances of tonight making you feel so nostalgic. 

“Of course we can,” he hums, passing you the case of his cassettes- a familiar and welcomed sight for your tired eyes. 

You watch Eddie as he drives, and observe the way the muscles in his arms flex ever so subtly as he turns the wheel. You watch his ringed fingers tap across the top of the steering wheel and you can’t help it the way your mind wanders. You’re so wrapped up in the way his hair sways so effortlessly and the movement of his jaw as he sings, you don’t even notice that Steve was leaving the gym just in time to see you both drive away. 

After a little while of aimless driving, and hitting up the drive thru, Eddie ends up parking at Lover’s Lake when neither of you are ready to go home just yet. 

“Eddie?” You ask absentmindedly, finishing off the milkshake he got you. “Can I ask you something?”

“Shoot,” he replies, also finishing his, but with an obnoxiously loud suck of his straw- determined to get every last sip. 

“Why do you like me?” you ask, cringing almost immediately. You think you sound like a middle schooler or something- you’re so embarrassed. His eyes widen for a brief second, contemplating his answer. He tosses the empty cup into the back. 

“First off,” he criticizes teasingly, “I did not say I liked you- I’m in love with you. Get your facts straight, ma’am.” 

“My apologies,” you giggle, holding your hands up in defeat.

“I mean- I love everything about you; always have,” he starts. “You’re sweet and kind. I think you’re beautiful. I think you’re incredible, and sometimes I can’t figure out why you wanted to ever be friends with me in the first place.”

“Eddie?”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“Would you kiss me?” 

Eddie’s a goner when you’re looking at him with those doe eyes. More than anything he wants to lunge across and close the space between you. It’s everything he’s ever wanted. It takes every fiber of his being to hold himself back..

“I don’t know if I can kiss you without knowing if I could ever kiss you again,” He whispers, but it doesn’t stop him from leaning in towards you. His hand lifts to hold your cheek and suddenly he’s so close. Closer than the two of you have ever been. His lips are tantalizingly close to yours when his forehead touches yours. A huge bang on the side of the van scares you both away from each other. 

“Give her time, my ass, Munson! Get the fuck out here! Get your fucking hands off my girl!”

Taglist:

@sunshinepeachx @downbear @fanlifeaamt @exploding-bonbon @losingmygrasponreality @skiddypiddy @andvys @djodirt @moonlightsolo @kyga01 @sheisjoeschateau @melaninjhs

[ozzgin]

You know what I love about your writing? The monsters love us so much! They are just weird, obsessed, awkward, and very horny, but it's ok, I am too! (very horny included)

I feel your writing as a big cuddle (but a careful cuddle, or someone will be happily poked, if you know what I mean *nudge nudge wink wink*) I just went AWWWWW at the last monster roommates. Poor babies. They just want to make you happy! That made me imagine a monster roommates cozy pile so we can all watch a movie ('yes, it's a human thing!' you tell them). You never felt such a tense atmosphere, a lot of hard cocks pressed against you, the monster roommates looking at you longingly as their cocks THROB, warm against you. They just want you to feel comfy, but now you're wet and there may be consequences HAHAHAHAHAH - weird, obsessed, awkward and very horny anon <3

NSFW content!

Monster roommates with a horndog Reader would probably lead to a lot of laundry and missed social events...

"I haven't seen you in weeks," your monstrous friend remarks with mild worry. "Are you alright?"

They eye your bed, an empty mattress devoid of any comfort. Your wardrobe is empty.

"Oh my God, is this how they keep you?"

"No, no," you rush to explain, awkwardly gesturing with your hands. "It's just...it's all in the laundry."

You hesitantly point to an enormous pile of drenched sheets and clothing. What could you possibly say, that there's several decadent railings happening per day? That you lost any feeling in your bottom for days now? You fan yourself, humiliated. Even worse, one of your roommates is peeking from the hallway with a visible boner.

"Sorry, I'm afraid I have to go. Duty calls."

[so-i-did-this-thing]

im sorry this might not be the place to ask for advice/help but im doomscrolling about the news and the soon to be president and im seeing so much to be scared shitless about, invasions, removal of vaccines, cost of living increases, revoking of trans rights and how it might make it all the more impossible to get the surgeries i wanted... its just too fucking scary to breathe right now what do i do with myself

Hey, Anon. I'm here. A lot of us are here right with you.

It's scary, to be sure. And I'm not going to sugarcoat the possibilities of things going south very quickly. So, let's jump into some survival tactics.

This post on burnout is a great place to start. There is a lot of overlap with burnout and the anxiety you're feeling.

Allow yourself to slow down and unplug. You are allowed to step away from the news cycle -- events out of your control will unfold regardless.

Don't feel guilty by letting yourself relax. I find it especially helpful to do activities that don't involve the internet -- I've been decorating my house, mending broken crockery, and sketching some embroidery ideas. I try to take the time to get dressed and groomed every day, to remind myself that I matter. I spend more time outdoors.

As you find the ability to relax, you'll be able to focus better on the things you can do to be resilient. Things I have been doing to improve myself and make me a better helper:

Staying on top of my medical appointments and any preventive care I can do

Working to be physically healthier overall to mitigate future medical issues

Getting all my paperwork in order, including passports

Tweaking my financial budget

Researching what estate & family documentation needs to be done to protect my relationship in case my marriage gets dissolved

Brushing up on job skills, getting new certifications to stay competitively employable

Stocking up on my medical and general emergency supplies, especially for bad weather events

Getting in the habit of mindful purchases, curbing my habit of impulse shopping

Selling things I don't want or need anymore to have a little extra money and be able to move house easier, if need be

Building a habit of fixing/maintaining my possessions instead of trashing broken things

Canceling online subscriptions and quitting social networks that make me feel in danger

Getting my personal and any queer-related files out of the cloud and onto redundant solid state drives

Downloading / printing out queer resources and buying queer art that may be banned or monitored in the future

Enjoying physical media again and hunting for old favorites

Keeping in touch with queer friends and allies and making plans in case people (even myself) need to flee

Being visible when I can and knowing when it's best to lay low

Allowing myself the luxury to dig into things Old Me would have saved for "special" events -- aka, wearing the nice clothes and eating off the fine china as an everyday thing

Shutting the fuck up, especially online, when I think my words could be used against me

In a way, I am trying to simply become a better version of myself, one who is calm & self-sufficient, mindful about his actions, and available to help those in need. It sucks that the driving factor is fear, but I intend to use that fear as a catalyst to be stronger and survive.

There is a lot to be done, but there was always going to be work, new regime or not. But please, start with that burnout article so you can jump into your own plans with new hope and energy. ❤️

[foxflowershrine]

as the fictive this post was originally about, damn, i had no idea this was that much of a thing, i probably wouldn't have even posted it if it were just me but Gem got heated on my behalf and i love them for it. have a collage of some of the best tags/responses.

y'all i am so so sorry you get treated this way, no one deserves that and we're right there with you on this. even knowing the person who did it to me wasn't intentionally trying to be an ass, it still rankles a whole week later, i can't imagine how it feels for people who get that on the regular, or with malicious intent. this kinda nonsense is why we have to stick together -.-

ty so much for the responses and the love, wish we could reblog everyone's individual posts but there's waaaay too many now lol. to anyone looking for other systems to follow def go through the reblogs on the original post, you'll find some gems for sure /gen

~Violet

hey, small psa:

fictives are just people. you wouldn't walk up to a person you saw on the news once while they're having dinner and say "holy shit guys it's Jimothy Cumwomble, great job on stopping that armed robbery, sorry your brother died in the process". that would be completely socially unacceptable - you'd be butting in on their life, overstepping not just their boundaries but basic social decency, and bringing up potentially traumatic life events. it's rude, infantilizing, and potentially directly harmful. so why would you do the same to a fictive just because you know, or think you know, their source?

and that's not to say "never bring up a fictive's source to them", plenty of fictives enjoy talking about their sources! but there's a little thing called tact. you can ask whether they're okay with talking about it, or join in on a conversation where they already are, even just a "hey if you don't mind could we chat about your source" would go a long way. but suddenly changing the topic to their source not just without warning but by singling them out as "weird" or "interesting" and saying things about their source that would never be appropriate to say to a singlet about their past is not cool.

TLDR, a fictive existing in a public space is not an excuse to single them out, put a spotlight on them, and bring up potentially traumatic parts of their history just because you think their source is neat. have a little common sense about timing and approach, or just let them exist in peace.

[miange1]

I NEED MORE BRIAN MOSER AHHHH

Brian Moser, with a lover that's "too sweet"

male leaning reader, brian is a freak, being nervous more than shy, arguments, accidental guilt tripping, manipulation(at first), reader gives off innocence but they're not they're just a virgin, fake names, being overly touchy, blow jobs

note: had an idea so i just used this ask as an excuse to finally post it. also if you notice typos no you don't im not fixing them

— You were his first actual relationship in which didn't involve murder or trying to get closer to Dexter. Or so he remembers, he probably had that intention at first yet completely forgot about it due to his own feelings.

— Meeting you felt like a bunch of perfumes and flowers were thrown at his face— you were smiling and speaking with him like he was your long lost friend or your boyfriend, like you knew him since forever.

"Oh! Rudy!" He instantly felt his heart speed up, feeling more nervous than he's ever been in his entire life and you weren't even calling out his real name. He needs to calm down, seriously he's sweating way too much.

"I missed you so much, how have you been?" He felt your arms wrap around him tightly, yet ater the hug your hands took his and held them as if they were the most delicate things in the world, besides you.

The man could barely get his words out, stuttering every now and then and looking away from you often. Your thumb was swiping softly over the top of his knuckles, why were you looking at him like that.

— Getting with you was the most romantic thing he has ever thought of. Taking you out to a place where it was peaceful yet beautiful, and he could confess to you and actually mean it.

— It was the best place he could find, it was hot but lovely. When he confessed, you stayed quiet for far too long and he thought you didn't want him. You were just in so much shock, it's been a bit since someone was this genuine to you.

— Floating on air is what he felt like each time he was with you. When you were able to visit his work, you showed him with kisses each and every single time even after arguments which was something he would have a heavy weight on his shoulders about.

"Debra doesn't at all have a thing for me, what the hell are you talking about!" You were blinking back heavy tears trying to see his side as best as you could, yet everything just went a bit too far. From understanding to a plain bicker.

"It's obvious she does, and she's in your office more than I am!" He rolled his eyes, his fingers on his nose and pinching the bridge. He knew Debra had a thing for him, but what he didn't know was why he lied seeing you fight for him like this. He liked seeing you get jealous.

"Because it's her job." Yet you protested, "I understand that but.." you couldn't get the rest out, starting to cry and you instantly felt embarrassed. "Sorry— shit, I'm sorry.." His upset look rested, sighing as he went closer to you for an embrace.

"No, it's my fault." He admitted, his arms squeezing your frame in a comforting manner as you cried into his chest.

He was so turned on right now.

— Brian had a bunch in which you were a virgin, he just would have never guess he was actually right about it.

— All he wanted was a small make out for a bit, yet it had escalated and you were on your knees. God, you looked so pretty.

"Ah, ah, your teeth.. Good..that's it." He leaned his head back, the warmth of your mouth and tongue working at his girth. For your first time even giving head you were real good at following his directions. You did it just how he liked it. Tongue swirling, spit mixing with what leaked from him, it was heaven.

He jutted his hips forward a bit, catching you by surprise and giving you the urge to wanna pull back, which didn't happen due to Brian's fingers tangling in your hair— and pushing your head back forward. "Doing so well, fuck.." you practically weren't evenoving anymore, and if you were you had just been going ragdoll and moving along with Brian's pulls.

His dick twitched in your mouth as he heard a gargled moan, fuck he was gonna cum just from hearing that alone. Then he'd hear you whine, almost impatiently. "Hush you're fine, just keep on— God, yes.." eyes rolling back, feeling your nose poke at his pelvis the deeper he pushed you down when he came. Letting go of your hair, he let your head fall back a bit before he forced your mouth closed.

"Swallow."

— Sooner or later he would then wonder why you were a virgin in the first place, yet you did date people for long periods of time.

"I don't know, when I asked after break up they said they just couldn't."

— He got the hint for himself.

[starfruitii]

cws & notes. reader is kind of insecure. akaashi keiji x gn!reader. established relationship. slight angst. 600+ words. idk where this came from but enjoy?

“Do you think you’ll get sick of me, one day?”

You regret the words as soon as they leave your lips. In your head, it sounded like a perfectly sound question, but with the way Keiji is looking at you, it’s clear he doesn’t agree. 

“I beg your pardon, dear?” His voice is painfully soft, brows furrowing in concern as he places his book down on the coffee table. Under his gentle gaze, you feel stripped bare, exposed in all your insecurity. You should have swallowed the question down, as sharp as it felt in your throat, anything to avoid the way he’s staring at you now.

“Nevermind,” You say quickly, snatching the TV remote from the table, and busying yourself with choosing a show. The screen flicks between channels, flashing brightly coloured lights across your faces. “That was a dumb question. I’m sorry, just forget it.”

“My love,” Keiji reached out a hand, lightly brushing the side of your face. With a gentle, but firm grip, he grasped your chin and tilted your head to the side to face him. “[Name]. Why are you asking me that?” 

“No reason. Don’t worry about it.” You try to laugh it off, but you can only choke out a quiet sob. Somehow, somewhere between asking the question and now, your eyes started burning, glazing over with unshed tears.

Damn. He’s looking even more concerned now. Why couldn’t you have just kept it to yourself, tucking those doubts far into the dusty corners of your head, where his ears would never reach them?

“Hey,” Keiji brushed his thumb under your eyes, wiping away a stray tear that falls. “You’re getting me worried now. Are you okay? What happened?”

There was a long pause, and something inside you cracks. You let out a sniffle, then a gasp, then the last piece of your self-control breaks, in a mess of tears and snot. Keiji’s face crumples, and he tugs you forward into his chest, rubbing your back soothingly as you continue to cry. 

“Did I do something?” He presses. “Am I not treating you the way you want to be treated? I’m sorry if I’ve hurt you, but please tell me what I did–”

“No!” You quickly say, regaining your composure slightly. He’s never done anything, never hurt you, intentionally, or unintentionally, never said the wrong words, never made you feel unloved. That was the problem. Because nothing gold shines forever, and every good thing comes to an end. You were just waiting for the end, the moment he decides he is done with your self-consciousness, your bad habits, your looks. 

There is always a reason for someone to leave; you’ve learnt that the hard way. 

“I-I don’t know,” You mumble, tracing your nail against the couch. “I just–I guess, most people do. Get sick of me, that is. And I d-don’t wanna lose you too.”

Keiji was silent for a moment, and for a moment you worry that you've ruined things. The thought lingers in your mind for only a second, because a second later there are half-a-dozen kisses being pressed to the top of your head.

“I love you,” Keiji whispers between each peck. “I love you, so, so much. I love you, and I love you, and I will say it as many times as it takes you to believe it.”

The feeling of his breath tickles your skin, making you laugh weakly.

“I'm never going to get sick of you,” He continues. “I adore you, and every part of you. No matter what happens, I'm never leaving. Okay?”

“Okay,” you whisper back.

Keiji kisses your cheek. “Good. Now, why don't you put on a movie for us to watch?”

[mcflymemes]

PROMPTS FROM FINAL FANTASY VII REMAKE *  assorted dialogue from the game, adjust as necessary

whatever happens, you can't fall in love with me.

promise you'll come and save me.

we need to make the most of the time we have... to live our lives the way we wanna live. every minute, every moment, matters.

i'm glad i met you, [name]. i really am.

i'm grateful for all the words we've shared, for all the moments and the memories.

you've made me more happy than you know.

there's a much bigger threat.

i just want to do everything in my power to help.

can i come?

then it's a date!

a long time ago i used to sell flowers here.

go. follow your heart.

i'm not some princess who needs to be coddled.

sorry i'm late.

this calls for a song.

this is a one time gig. when it's done, we're done.

survival can be a matter of luck or skill. and you can't rely on luck.

if it feels wrong, don't do it.

i'm a light sleeper.

when we were kids, everybody wanted to be a soldier. by the time i made it in, they didn't need heroes anymore.

i'm not cut out for this crap.

quit acting like you know me.

you have to look at the bigger picture here.

nothing worth fighting for was ever won without sacrifice.

hold onto this.

a good man who serves a great evil is not without sin.

i'm a man of modest dreams.

answer me!

would kill for a shower.

i'll be fine. you've seen how much ass i can kick.

it's kinda funny. us going our separate ways, thinking that must be it... that we'd never meet again... and then here of all places we do.

deep down, you're a pretty nice guy.

they took everything from us. again.

i don't care! i don't want anyone else to die, please!

we should totally celebrate!

i'm sick of this! i'm sick of all of this!

are you ignoring me again?

what's with you all of a sudden? like you're losing that hard edge.

you can't do this.

you gotta be better than this if you're gonna play the hero.

is it our destiny to defy destiny?

i am what you see before you. nothing more.

you are too weak to save anyone. not even yourself.

those who look with clouded eyes see nothing but shadows.

that was then, this is now.

you have failed again.

through suffering you will grow stronger. isn't that what you want?

do you fear me?

do you dream of me?

you're not real. you're dead.

you should rest up while you can.

can't sleep?

i heard footsteps.

sorry. didn't mean to wake you.

it kinda feels like i've gone back to my childhood home.

everyone dies eventually.

do i get a say in all this?

i'm coming for you.

did you miss me?

[hazbinshusk]

blitzø x gn!reader. a very indulgent soft!blitzø fic for @clovrplayz. when he finds you locked away in your apartment overwhelmed by all your work, blitzø takes it upon himself to try and help you relax for a little while.

featuring: general fluff, reader is gender neutral (only descriptor of body involves them having hair), people-pleasing stress.

You barely manage to look up for more than a cursor second when you hear the door to the apartment open, your elbows planted on the kitchen counter in front of you so you can press the heels of your hands into your temples. You’ve been staring at the paperwork in front of you for so long that your eyes have unfocused, and you blink hard to try and get them working properly again.

“Well, howdy-doody, peachy-babe,” Blitzø sing-songs as he kicks the door closed behind him, shrugging off his coat and tossing it towards the coatrack beside him. He misses; you hear it crumple on the carpet instead. The imp seems not to notice as he makes his way over to you. “You are gonna looooove me; I’ve got—”

Blitzø trails off as he realises you’re not actually listening, and his tone drops to something more subdued. “Hey. You okay?”

You jerk upright as you suddenly feel the touch of his hand on the small of your back; the move knocks the papers further askew on the countertop.

“Hey!” you give him a brief, distracted smile, pushing hair away from your face self-consciously. You usually put a little more effort into your appearance when you know he’s coming over; at the very least you make sure you’ve showered in the last… twenty-four hours. You’re suddenly aware of how tight your face feels around your eyes from a lack of sleep, of the beginnings of grease clinging to the roots of your hair telling you that you really needed to wash it. “Hey! Sorry, did we… were we supposed to have… plans?”

Blitzø raises a brow. “Nooope. I’m just doin’ that thing you totally love where I barge in unannounced and make you do whatever I want to – what’s wrong with you?”

“That sounds like the set up of a joke I’m too tired to make,” you sigh, then wave a hand dismissively as you turn your attention back to the counter. “No, I’m fine. I’m just… I’ve got a lot of work to do.”

“It’s Sunday.”

“It’s Hell,” you point out dryly. “They tend to make most of us work weekends.”

He shrugs, moving to lean against the counter beside you, forcing himself into your line of sight. He stands with his back to it, elbows resting carelessly on top of your work. Blitzø studies your face for a moment before he tries for a smirk. “Wouldn’t have to if you came and worked for I.M.P.”

You give him a tired smile. “You just get your rocks off to the idea of me calling you ‘sir’.”

He grins. “It makes me all tingly.”

You shake your head in amusement. “I appreciate the offer – again – but I told you, B. I can’t leave where I am. They need me.”

“They’re assholes,” he replies. He says it simply, like he’s telling you the day of the week, despite never having met anyone you work with. You tried not to complain in front of him, didn’t you? And anyway, they weren’t assholes, they were just…

“They’re not so bad,” you grimace, trying the tug the papers out from under his elbow carefully.

“They’re manky-ass crotch-jockeys, peach.”

You choke on a laugh despite yourself. “Okay, so they’re not… great, but they’re maybe not… that. And they need me there; I can’t just leave them with all this work still needing to be done.”

A soft, affectionate smile you completely miss tugs at the corner of Blitzø’s mouth, and he rolls his eyes before finally relenting and lifting his elbow so you can rescue those pages. “Aaannnd… are you gettin’ much work done?”

You hesitate to respond, and apparently, that’s all the answer the imp needs. Winding his tail around the leg of your stool, he drags it back from the counter, stepping between you and your work. You make to protest, but his expression is this mix of soft amusement and what you’re surprised to see as genuine concern, and your complaint dies before it can escape you. Blitzø’s hands come up to rest on your thighs, and while the touch still manages to send a blush into your cheeks, his touch doesn’t wander any higher than just above your knee, his palms warming you through the worn fabric of your sweats.

“You need a break.”

You sigh, “I can’t—”

“You’re takin’ a break if I have to sling you over my shoulder and carry you,” Blitzø says, his voice matter-of-fact and bright. You feel his tail brush against your ankle. “So, if you want me to get all grabby on that sweet lil bod of yours, keep arguin’. Otherwise, follow me.”

Blitzø surprises you by leading you into your bathroom – a cramped little room of cold tiles and a bath and shower combination that is a little too small for you to really use the former part of it. Before you can ask what exactly he has planned, he turns and plants his hands on your shoulders, pushing you gently down to sit on the mat with your back against the edge of the tub.

You want to ask what the hell he’s doing, but he starts humming to himself as he ransacks the cabinet under the sink, hips and tail swaying cattishly back and forth in time with whatever tune he’s got in his brain. He looks so strangely at home, and it isn’t until he straightens with the cheap detachable shower head hose you had buried at the back of the cupboard that you find words again.

“What exactly do you have that for?”

“Pretty sure it’s not what you usually use it for,” he shoots back, waggling his eyebrows at you suggestively. You snort a laugh, the sound catching as he surprises you by tossing a towel on your head. “Wrap that around your shoulders, perv.”

Confused, you do as he asks, watching him hook the shower head’s nozzle to the bath’s tap. He runs the water, rocking the spray over his fingers a few times until he’s satisfied with the temperature. As the same time his tail collects your shampoo and conditioner from the caddy above him, and your face warms as you realise his intentions.

“Blitz, you don’t have to—”

“Shut up and be pampered, bitch,” he eye-rolls, but his smirk is soft as he moves to kneel beside you. He reaches up to untuck your hair from where it’s hooked under the towel, and you’re not sure if it’s the cooling droplets of water or the graze of his claws against the nape of your neck that makes you shiver. “’Cause if I gotta look at your greasy-ass head much longer you’re gonna put me off pizza for life.”

“Wow,” you deadpan. “What’s this warm and fuzzy feeling in my—”

“Just tilt your head back, would ya?”

You laugh at his exasperation but do as he asks, closing your eyes as the towel around your neck cradles you comfortably against the edge of the ceramic. You’re immediately rewarded with a smile and the sensation of warm water against your scalp. Blitzø’s smile lingers as his hand comes up to carefully smooth your hair away from your face, claws ghosting over your forehead in a way that completely belays his joke about grease. Almost immediately you feel the tension in your shoulders ease, and Blitzø chuckles quietly to himself as he notices.

“That’s it, peach. Jus’ relax, alright?” he says soothingly as he soaks your hair, moving the showerhead slowly over your scalp. “I got you.”

Your tail slips over your lap and you curl your fingers around it, the spade swaying back and forth by your hip. “’Kay.”

You notice Blitzø is humming again when you feel the cold squirt of shampoo against the crown of your head, and you hold back a happy moan as his claws slide through your soaking hair to massage it into the locks. He seems to know just how much pressure to use, kneading his fingertips carefully into the skin behind your ears, into your temples. Your lips part with a soft sigh as he lingers there, working away the tension headache that has been brewing there for the last few hours.

“That’s my good baby,” he croons softly, the warmth of voice curling into your chest the way the steam caresses the bare skin of your arms and neck. He lifts your head slightly to press his fingers into the nape of your neck and your own hands tighten on your tail, the soft scent of night jasmine and bergamot teasing at your senses. You still can’t recognize the song he’s chosen as he continues humming, but it’s soft and sweet and slow… something like a lullaby that makes you want to melt right there into the bathmat.

Blitzø takes his time rubbing the shampoo through your hair, lingering around the bases of your horns where he knows stress can settle. When the water returns to wash away the bubbles you shudder, and the steam clings to your cheeks, your forehead, your lips. You want to open your eyes, to see what kind of expression he might be wearing as he does this, but you don’t want to risk ruining the moment.

He conditions your hair with the same care, his fingers returning to your temples and your horns as he gives it time to settle. In any other circumstance you would probably make a joke about how someone who’s been bald for as long as you’d known him knew so much about how to properly wash hair, but right now… Satan, you really didn’t care.

All too soon the water shuts off and Blitzø takes your hand to help you sit up properly again, one hand tucking up under your back to support you. It isn’t really necessary, but you smile at the attentiveness. You find yourself flushing now that the moment is over, and busy yourself with obscuring your face with the towel as you dry your hair so he doesn’t notice.

“Alright, baby, up you get,” he hauls you to your feel, hands wrapped around yours. That warmth lingers in your cheeks, and you try not to let your mind linger on the pet-name he’s just used. “Time for bed.”

“Wh-?” your brow creases in confusion. “It’s like… three in the afternoon! And I’ve still got work to—”

“Right.” You yelp in surprise as Blitzø sighs, nods once, then scoops you up into his arms. He grins at you as your arms go automatically to his shoulders, wrapping around his neck for stability. His hands clutch at your thighs, the small of your back, and you swear you feel his tail curl around yours for a moment before retreating again. “I warned you.”

“Blitz—!”

He ignores your protests as  he carries you into the bedroom, his tail hooking under the edge of the comforter and drawing it back before he drops you onto the middle of the mattress. He clambers onto the bed after you, tugging you back against his chest before you can climb back up off the bed. He tucks his chin over your shoulder as he wraps his arms around your middle, nuzzling into the side of your neck, unbothered by your still-damp hair. “Just shut up and nap with me, alright?”

Blitzø is wonderfully warm against your back, and the soft lilt to his voice is enough to convince you to do as he asks. His breath tickles against the side of your neck, his breathing slowing and becoming more measured as the two of you settle. His tail tugs the covers up over you, and you let your legs tangle with his as you settle against him.

Your breath catches slightly as his fingers curl in the hem of your shirt, his touch barely more than a whisper against the soft flesh of your stomach. Maybe that’s why your voice comes unsteadily when you speak, volume barely more than a murmur. “I do need to get back to work, Blitz…”

He shakes his head against your back, bumps his forehead against the space between your shoulders. “Nooooope… sleep now. Work later. Those assholes will just have to wait.”

“Blitz…”

He sighs, rolling his eyes as he sits up. He grabs at your shoulder, pushing you onto your back. He straddles your hips, bracing his hands on either side of your shoulders. It makes your breath catch, and you press your lips together against the flood of butterflies that suddenly swirl up through your middle.

“You gotta take a break, baby.” he tells you gently. He reaches up to tuck hair behind your ear, claws grazing along the line of your neck. “Okay?”

You exhale, give him a reluctant nod. “Okay.”

He smiles, bending down and brushing a kiss over your forehead. He lets his lips linger there for a moment before he pulls away again, and then he lets himself flop down on top of you.

You cough out a laugh as he knocks the air out of you, and he smiles lazily, his chin cradled against your sternum. You roll your eyes and he sticks his forked tongue out at you, but you still reach up to smooth your fingers over his forehead, scratching at the base of one of the spikes between his horns. A purr rumbles through him at the touch.

“Thank you, Blitz.”

His smile twitches wider, his eyes closed blissfully. “Welcome, baby.”

[imujings]

[b.sk] boo seungkwan’s guide to love

synopsis | an easy, four-step guide on how to win anyone’s heart—written by yours truly, boo seungkwan! (or, the three times seungkwan is determined to set up the perfect way to confess, and the one time he realizes all he has to do is be himself.)

♯ pairing(s) | bestfriend!boo seungkwan x gn!reader, non-idol!svt & gn!reader ♯ genre(s), wc | best friends to lovers & fluff, 5.4k ♯ warnings | cursing, friendly banter (someone save dino), two stupid silly sexual innuendos, some kissing, a few silly misunderstandings (sorry!!! They're Idiots <3), whisper of the heart spoilers!!, reader chokes on water

jay’s musings | HAPPY BIRTHDAY RANIA-BOO @wheeboo !! this one is ALLL for u!!!! and i mean it. ur genuinely SUCH a sweet and loving person, getting to know u has been such an honor. i love our daily convos and interactions, and am just so so so glad to have met u :) always remember that u! are! made! of! stardust! i hope u enjoy this, mwah <3

Boo Seungkwan needs to get a fucking grip.

He’s sprawled across his living room couch, eyes tracking a ladybug as it crawls across his ceiling. How the little creature somehow managed to be birthed in a winter as cold as this one, he will never know, but Seungkwan prays to whatever stars above that this is a sign of luck for the impending doom laying ahead of him.

Chan, Seungkwan’s roommate, ambles into the room with a bag of chips. He sits down on the chair perpendicular to the forlorn boy and interrupts his overthinking session. “Sulking isn’t going to make the perfect birthday gift for them suddenly appear, you know.”

Seungkwan blows a raspberry into the air. Curse Chan and his ability to read the room.

Okay, here’s the current dilemma: your birthday is coming up. His birthday is coming up. He’s known you for three years now, and for all of those three years he’s been painfully, crazily in love with you. So much he doesn’t think he can survive another year without bursting at the seams. (Chan says he’s being overly dramatic, but Seungkwan knows the racing of his heart and the permanent smile on his face whenever he’s around you are very life-threatening symptoms.)

Therefore, Seungkwan has made it a personal mission of his to finally confess this year, preferably before he succumbs to his feelings once and for all. Problem is, he doesn’t know how. Or when.

“At this point, just wrap yourself up in ribbons and present yourself to them as their gift. They’d love anything you give them, you unfortunately included,” Chan continues around a mouthful of potato chips, scrolling through his phone as he chews rather loudly.

He glares at his roommate. “You can’t be serious.”

The other boy swallows—Seungkwan makes a face at this—and Chan finally turns to the brooding man, his voice becoming earnest.

“Kwannie, I have been the victim of your lovesick rants for three years. And for every one of those three years, you two have endlessly pined after each other with the excuse of ‘just being best friends.’ I mean like, come on, dude. Hansol’s constantly sending me screenshots of his conversations with them, asking why he’s the one being texted when he says that you’re the one they’re dating. I had to tell him—like, just last month—that you two are in fact, not together, and then he didn’t even believe me and almost asked them right then and there. I stopped him before he could. You’re welcome, by the way.”

Seungkwan listens with a frown at his roommate’s fed-up tangent. The ladybug that was on the ceiling is now perched on top of one of their shelves, wandering across the pot of a plant you had gotten him as a gift. Snake plants reflect good luck and resilience for growth, you had told him with a smile, and his mouth curves into a deeper pout.

“Channie-ah, if I’m going to confess, it needs to be perfect! It’s not like I can just throw myself at them and hope they’re willing to jump my bones too,” Seungkwan makes a half-hearted attempt at a joke, his hands hitting the sides of the pillow he’s holding with a thump.

Chan mutters something under his breath. The green, fuzzy pillow is chucked towards his head in response, and the boy shrieks.

“I heard that, you idiot.”

“Then you should know that they like you too, you idiot,” his roommate shoots back, tossing the pillow back towards the couch. “And please don’t talk to me about jumping their bones. That is something I do not want to hear about.”

Seungkwan catches it easily and rests the pillow on his stomach. “If they like me back then that’s even worse,” he bemoans. “That means it needs to be more than perfect.”

He’s not exactly oblivious. Seungkwan’s known now for a little bit that you might harbor some sort of feelings for him back, which is why he’s even allowing himself to move forward with a plan as bold as this in the first place. However, the idea of you still rejecting him—whether it be from unrequited feelings, or even worse, because his confession was pathetically lame—gnaws away at his heart with unrelenting constancy.

“I don’t think it needs to be perfect,” Chan tries to reassure and comfort to the best of his ability, but the way Seungkwan frets makes him doubt he’ll have any influence on the older boy at all. “Like I said before, they’d be happy with anything you’d give them. Especially a confession. I think you could FaceTime them right now, ask them out on a date, and they’ll say yes. Fuck timing, you know?”

It’s as if his words had fallen on deaf ears. His face lighting up with an idea, Seungkwan nods, determination set in his jaw.

“You’re right about timing. I’ll just have to choose the right moment, with a foolproof plan,” he declares dramatically, going to type up a plan in his notes app.

Chan runs a hand over his exasperated face at his friend’s awfully selective hearing, and the ladybug seems to take this as its cue to fly to another room.

┊ Step 1: Choose the right place and time for a private conversation!

Seungkwan determines that the first ideal moment to confess is when you and him are at your favorite cafe, comfortably catching up after a week of not seeing each other.

The cafe is in a lull at the moment, the only other customers being an old couple sitting in front of the large bay windows. You’re donning a comfy sweater and thick woollen scarf, one that was given to you by Seungkwan some few birthdays ago, and his face flushes as he tries to focus on the conversation again. Some story about your closing shift at work and coming home to your dog way later than you had anticipated.

It’s… oddly intimate, Seungkwan thinks as your hands make little gestures while you talk.

The soft, warm overhead cafe lamps make your eyes shine and his breath catches, too afraid to exhale. He thinks if he breathes too harshly he’ll wake up with sweaty palms and a racing heart.

God, he’s so nervous, fidgeting with his fingers and counting the seconds in his head on how long he should be making eye contact with you so as to not come off as suspicious. You smile while recounting the excited way your pup greeted you as you finally had trudged through your front door and the corners of Seungkwan’s mouth arch in turn. Bracing himself, he reaches over the marbled tabletop, grasping a hold of your hands in his as you ramble on and starting to play with your fingers.

Your voice falters for a moment.

Seungkwan traces his thumb along your knuckles and raises an eyebrow, doing his best to look unaffected and not like he wants to press kisses to the pads of your fingertips. When all you do in the end is smile at him and pick up where you left off, he makes a mental fist pump, seeing the light at the end of the tunnel.

Now, all Seungkwan has to do is somehow turn the focal point to him. Maybe wait for a natural pause in the conversation, or–

His brain goes haywire as you run your own thumb along the side of his hand. “Something on your mind?” you tease, though he’s quick to notice how your eyes flit between your intertwined fingers and anywhere but his face.

Interesting.

A boost of confidence surging through him, Seungkwan waits a beat before replying smoothly. “Nothing other than you.”

The hopeless romantic in him cheers.

The larger, more realistic part of him is completely mortified.

He watches with a clenched jaw as your face morphs into one of surprise, to disbelief, and then your face is warming to a hue he, frankly, didn’t know was possible. Seungkwan worries he’s faring not much better, clearing his throat and reassuring himself that he can save this somehow.

I wanted to talk to you about something, is what he wants to say.

“Uh,” he says dumbly instead.

There’s an embarrassingly long period of silence between the two of you, clearly both caught off guard by the other. Your hands are still clasped in his.

He tries again. “So…”

The barista calls your name, a matcha latte and iced americano sat side by side on the counter next to some of your favorite pastries on a cute little tray. As if a spell was broken, the pair of you jump apart like you were caught making out rather than just holding hands. You look at him apologetically. “Sorry, Kwannie. Hold that thought.”

Seungkwan is so, so close to banging his head on the table after you stand up and turn away from him. He momentarily wonders how much the hospital bill would cost.

Miraculously enough, he manages to hold himself back. By the time you’re sliding into the booth, giving him his order and inquiring about what he wanted to tell you, Seungkwan has dreadfully made up his mind to postpone the confession for another day. Cafe confessions are overrated, anyways.

┊ Step 2: Express your immense gratitude and appreciation for your relationship!

The next time Seungkwan decides to try his luck, it's over the course of a few days.

Chan, as per usual, treads into their living room with a snack; this time it’s a bag of sour gummy worms. He blinks in surprise at the sight of his roommate carefully arranging a bouquet of flowers on their table as if he’s approaching a baby deer in the wild. Seungkwan’s eyes are practically slits while he snips away at the ends of the flower stems, tongue caught between his teeth in utmost concentration.

The younger boy hovers near him, a little nervous about interrupting his focus and the consequences that would occur if he did. “What kind of flowers are those?”

“Lilacs,” Seungkwan replies immediately, never losing the attention he has on plucking some of the more wilted leaves off of a particular stem. “With some lavender and baby’s breath.”

Chan lets out a low whistle. He then regards the gift basket sitting next to Seungkwan with a small, knowing smirk. “What’s that in the bag?”

His roommate scowls at him as he ties the bouquet together with a soft, white ribbon, the bow the perfect finishing touch. “None of your business.”

“Who are you giving it t—”

“Channie-ah,” Seungkwan warns in a high, sugary sarcastic tone, and said man only smiles wider. “Don’t you have a gym you should be at right now? Or just somewhere else other than here at home?”

Shrugging, Chan pops the last sour gummy worm in his mouth and hastily crumples the empty bag into a ball. “Guess I could see if Soonyoung is up for going to the gym.”

He disappears into the hallway leading to the bedrooms, leaving Seungkwan to his own devices, and your best friend takes this chance to go over his carefully crafted gifts. He bites his lip. He hopes the flowers are to your liking.

His eyes roam over to the simple wickered gift basket on the table, filled to the brim with your favorite snacks. A handmade card sticks out on the side and he cringes. Maybe he shouldn’t have made that on three hours of sleep. He can see the places where the pen in his hand wavered a little too hard, little imperfections that make his skin crawl.

“Goodluck with your confession, Kwannie-ah,” Chan’s amused tone snaps him out of his thoughts.

He's dressed in more socially acceptable going-out clothes now, opting for a heavy winter jacket over a tank top and sweatpants instead of his favorite fuzzy plaid pajama pants. His gym bag is thrown over his shoulder, a water bottle hastily pushed into one of the side pockets. Seungkwan wrinkles his nose as he catches the sight of the silver chain sitting around his neck. He always told Chan they looked a little tacky, but he never listened. To each their own, he guesses, turning back to the dark oak table.

“Yeah yeah, don’t stay out too late,” Seungkwan waves him off.

Chan throws out a laugh as he steps out the door. “I’ll let you know when I’m on my way back. Y’know, so I’m not interrupting anything.”

The door clicks shut before the man can snipe his roommate with the pair of garden shears he’s holding.

Lee Chan was so fucking lucky he helped pay rent for a comfortable apartment nearby their work and in walking distance from a grocery store. Otherwise, Seungkwan swears he would toss the boy into the street without a second thought.

He still had an hour or two before you arrived; you had texted him earlier saying you would stop by after your work with some takeout, excited for a night in with him to catch up on the dramas neglected lately due to busy schedules. Usually, by this time, he would be sending random voice notes to you pestering you for taking so long and doing an improv song about waiting for a long lost love. Now, though, he blesses the stars that you love to take your sweet time on the train, knowing you spend the minutes with music blasting through your headphones as you gaze out the window lost in thought.

So Seungkwan spends his own time fussing over his appearance, switching from casual clothes to comfy pajamas to business formal (you never know), before he finally settles on some wide-legged joggers and a layered hoodie. That way, he reasons as he fixes his hair for the thirtieth time, no matter if you wanted to go out for a stroll or stay in and cuddle—assuming you accepted his confession, of course—he would be ready to go.

A brrring! from his phone startles him. He rushes to the living room as a muted knock on the door sounds, indicating your arrival.

Okay, Boo Seungkwan, he sucks in a breath. Play it cool.

The first thirty minutes or so go relatively peaceful. You’re fresh in your work clothes, greeting him with a tired smile and your guys’ favorite ramen takeout place. Light, easygoing chatter about your day calms his nerves, making himself comfortable on the couch with your leg pressed against his. It’s moments like these that Seungkwan really cherishes; your skinship and his eagerness, your careful attentiveness and his long rambles, your laugh and his joke being the cause of it.

Photographs and miscellaneous wall prints hang from his walls and watch over the two of you comfortably as you slurp down your ramen, giggling over who can make the most noise. His apartment is homely and he takes pride in it—he never lets anyone forget the amount of hours he spent pouring over what shade of green to paint the walls—but somehow, having you here only makes the place more lively. More homely.

As you’re cleaning up the living room table, a song spilling from your lips, it takes everything in him to not grab you by the waist and kiss you breathless. Instead, Seungkwan makes an excuse to retreat briefly to his bedroom, snatching the flowers and gift basket he had carefully stashed away under his desk.

You look up when he returns and halt in your efforts in stretching his favorite throw—a quilt his mother bought for him—across your body. Surprise is plastered all over your face, and he nervously bites his lip. He really hopes he doesn’t look as whipped for you as he feels right now.

“Hi,” he starts, bowing his head awkwardly and setting the gift basket on your lap. “These are for you.”

Your hands reach for the flowers, lips parted slightly and eyes wide with innocent bliss. Your voice echoes his in a question. “For me?”

“Ah, yeah,” he scratches at his neck and sits down, not wanting to hover over you like some intimidating guy at the bar. Your name falls off his tongue like it was there waiting to be let out. “I wanted to thank you. You um, mean a lot to me, you know? You’ve truly made my life so much more worth living. Whenever I’m sad, you’re right there to hold my hand through it, and whenever I’m happy, it’s like you take that joy and make it tenfold. I truly… don’t know where I would be without your kindness and support. I say this all because… well…”

The words get caught in his throat and he feels himself freeze in panic.

“...Seungkwan?” your smile is puzzled and his gaze pierces you with an intensity that makes you shift in your seat. “Uh, thank you, but my birthday isn’t for another two weeks.”

“I totally understand!—oh.”

He didn't exactly predict you misunderstanding this interaction as one of the thousands of possible outcomes during his nightly overthinking sessions, so he has no idea how to respond. “Uh. Um. This is for another reason other than your birthday, actually.”

“Oh, okay,” you pause. “Then what is it all for? Did you finally snap the friendship bracelet I gave you? You know I can make you a new one; kinda knew it would break with the amount of crap you put it through.”

Before Seungkwan can respond, there’s a heavy series of clunk!-clank!-clink!’s at the door, followed by someone very obviously jingling a set of house keys.

“Seungkwan!” someone sing-songs insufferably from outside the door, and the mentioned person can quite literally hear his jerk of a roommate turning the doorknob multiple times without actually opening it. “My lovely roommate and best friend, I’m home! I cannot wait to tell you about my very productive time at the gym with Soonyoung!”

Lee Chan has his grand entrance through the front door of their apartment, making a show out of kicking off his shoes and bumping against every piece of furniture possible. He doesn’t notice the way you two are fixated on him until he’s face to face across the coffee table with Seungkwan’s deadpan stare and your astonished expression. Chan stops mid-yell, arms falling limply to his side as his brain processes the fact that you two are currently not kissing each other with renewed fervor at the unconcealing of long-held feelings.

“Oh, shit. Was I interrupting something?”

Seungkwan decides right then that being homeless is better than having Chan as a roommate, and that he’ll terminate his lease first thing tomorrow morning.

┊ Step 3: Be honest and direct about your feelings!

After that disastrous last attempt, Seungkwan has sworn off trying to confess—at least, for the time being. He needs time to lick his wounded pride better, and in the meantime, Chan owes him daily morning coffee for a month as an apology.

However, it’s like it's your personal job to make it hard for him to keep his mouth shut.

“God,” you groan and miserably throw your head back against the couch. “Their love is so sweet. I’m so sick of them.”

The pair of you are wrapped up in the thick, white comforter on your bed, your laptop screen illuminating your faces in flashes of bright colorful pastels. Whisper of The Heart is a familiar movie to the both of you, having only watched it millions of times—yet you crawl back to it around the same time each year, heart squeezing excitedly at the life lessons of soul-searching and love taught in the Studio Ghibli film.

It’s the end of the movie, and as you delightfully wring your hands in anticipation for the confession scene, Seungkwan shamefully admits to himself that he spent more time watching your reactions than the movie itself. He can’t help it, eyes flickering to you every time you’d giggle or gush at Shizuku and Seiji’s antics. You were particularly fond of the story Shizuku had written, and he had marveled at the way you couldn’t stop yourself from pausing the movie to explain your analysis of the anecdote to him. He knew your theories inside and out, but he hung onto every word that fell off your lips like it was life or death.

You sigh dreamily and startle Seungkwan out of his thoughts. Your hands are now clutching one of the various stuffed animals thrown haphazardly around your bed. On the screen, Seiji’s arms are wrapped tightly around Shizuku, his words ringing loud and clear through your laptop’s speakers. I love you!

“First loves are so powerful,” you sigh again loudly as the credits begin to roll, the recognizable Country Roads playing. “I wish I got to experience something like them. When is it my turn?”

Time slows down.

Seungkwan knows it’s supposed to be a rhetorical question. That he’s supposed to roll his eyes and tell you to stop playing into your delusions; maybe even joke that you should just download a dating app if you’re this desperate. Perhaps it’s because it’s late into the early morning, or because he had one too many of the devastatingly delicious cookies you two had baked earlier—whatever the reason, he doesn’t even think twice before he’s huffing and throwing his arms around your shoulders, his cheek pressed to yours.

“I love you!”

Oh. That wasn’t how that was supposed to go.

You look at him, eyes wide. He can feel your breath against his lips and it makes his brain short-circuit, pulling away as fast as he had hugged you. The air is suddenly so thick it makes his throat feel choked up, like there’s something dry stuck in it, and he’s desperately reaching for some pathetic excuse as to why he just did what he did.

The credits end and the classic Totoro stares at you two for a brief moment on screen, before going black. It’s eerily silent in your room, your clock ticking like a time bomb on your wall. It’s dark except for the little squishable duck nightlight perched on your dresser, and he watches the way you swallow in the dim lighting.

“Stop messing around,” you ultimately laugh, shoving him away hard in the shoulder and reaching for your bottle of water.

He takes note of the nervousness in your giggles. Messing around? Messing around? He feels a mixture of irritation and frustration well up inside of him, pent up from the past few weeks of misfortune. Seungkwan rolls his eyes. “For goodness’ sake, I’m literally not. I’m serious. I love you.”

A choke.

You’re coughing violently and he’s at your side immediately, rubbing your back in soothing circles. The plushie you were holding is replaced with a proper pillow to keep you upright. “Shit, I’m so sorry. Are you okay? Do you need me to call someone?”

It’s as if you don’t even hear him. You inhale a final breath to steady yourself and gawk at him. “Are you serious?”

“Serious about what?”

“You loving me.”

And it’s as if something in him finally snaps.

“Yes, I’m serious,” he whines, theatrically falling on his side and draping his arms over his quickly reddening face. “But this wasn’t how it was supposed to go! It was supposed to be perfect. I had a whole masterminded plan, where we would go to the park, and there’s no one around but us and we sit on a swing set reminiscing about youth, and then the sun would be setting and you’d look at me and go ‘It’s beautiful,’ and then I’d look at you and go—”

Seungkwan stops when he hears your giggle.

He slowly brings his hands down from his face, staring at you with bewilderment.

You’re laughing. He just confessed his undying love for you and you’re laughing.

“Kwannie,” you gasp between fits of laughter, clutching your side with one hand and covering your mouth with the other. “Oh my God, Seungkwan, hold up. Give me a second.”

After your laughter subsides, you gently take his hands in yours. Highlights from the sole source of lighting line your hair in a halo-like glow. Your grin is as wide and as bright as a crescent moon; though his heartbeat is going wild at the what-ifs screaming in his head, he vows that’s going to be his favorite phase of the lunar cycle now.

“Seungkwan,” you start again, tone raw and sweet as honey, “I love you, too.”

You love him. You love him. Fireworks are going off in his brain, and his heart is rejoicing at the fact that you feel the same as he does. He swears he can hear the band that’s playing the congratulatory tune.

“But…” you trail off, and his eyes widen. “Wait, relax. Just listen to me.”

“All that stuff you said–about your confession being perfect. I hope you realize that I don’t need perfection from you,” he opens his mouth to protest, but you stop him with a look. “I’ve never wanted it, either. In fact, I’ve only ever wanted you. This… okay, this is super cheesy, so look away.”

Seungkwan scoffs. You give him another stern look, and he pouts, his gaze zeroing in on your laptop that’s been discarded off to the side. There’s a moment of your hesitation—palpable, so tangible he could hold it in his hands—before he feels the plush of your lips against his cheek.

“You didn’t make me fall for you by being ‘perfect,’ you made me fall for you by being yourself,” you finish, pulling away and ducking your head shyly.

“I—” Seungkwan pauses, his breathing a little shaky. “God, wait, I wish I had a do-over! Hold on.”

A thousand and one thoughts, all incoherent, are running through his mind at lightning speed. You wait patiently as he racks his brain for anything remotely put together.

“Can I kiss you?” is all he ends up asking. He gives up on being eloquent in his speech for now—his mind can’t really function anymore, only focused on one goal, and you giggle as his palm cups your cheek.

Your eyes meet his, shining. “Of course.”

When his lips press to yours, he swears he can see songs and hear colors. If there’s one thing that didn’t go wrong about this impromptu confession, it’s your lips moving against his, soft and tender and everything else he had imagined. You pull away first and he finds himself following, hoping you’ll indulge him in a second one; when you do, smiling against his lips, he feels like he’s made true inner peace with himself.

“Okay, I know this changes things, but please let me have a do-over,” Seungkwan gripes, finally breaking away and resting his forehead against yours. “Let me ask you out for real.”

“Alright, Kwannie,” you laugh and give him another peck on the lips. “When?”

“When?” he echoes, grinning mischievously. “Honey, the surprise is the best part. If I tell you when, it makes it less than perfect.”

┊ Step 4: Pray they don’t reject you Respect their response, no matter good or bad!

On the day of your birthday, you have your first date with Boo Seungkwan.

It’s confirmed when you and him are out on a leisurely walk, meandering around the park near your place and talking about the meanings of life. There’s not much to it; you’re dressed up in your favorite winter clothes, a scarf once again wrapped around your neck, your nose tucked into it to keep it from getting too cold. Your voice is muffled but pleasant to his ears, a warmth biting away the brisk air as the day winds down.

He’s jittery and he knows it. His gloved fingers brush yours every so often, hesitating before pulling away, and his eyes are embarrassed every time they meet yours. You had looked up at him earlier with mirth swimming in your eyes, giggling. “Nervous ‘cause we’re on a date?”

Seungkwan pouts. “Well, yes, actually. Simple as it is, I’d like this to be our first date of many.”

He sees the shock cross your eyes before it's replaced with pure joy. You tuck your face more into your scarf and Seungkwan physically feels his fists clench with the sudden urge to pinch your cheeks.

“Okay,” you mumble, reaching for his hand and locking your fingers together. “Lead the way, then.”

Seungkwan giddily tightens his hold on you. He simply can’t believe his luck. The love between you two feels like second nature, like something he’s known how to do all his life, and he wouldn’t trade the feeling of your hand in his for the world. You’re his go-to point of contact. His best friend. His partner in crime. His person.

The January sun, long and painting the sky in streaks of orange and pink, is dipping behind the city buildings when he stops. He didn’t really have a spot in mind for what he wanted to say, instead basing it off of how many steps he could take before the golden hour light hit your face just right.

He wants to kiss you again.

You quizzically raise an eyebrow as Seungkwan rubs his glove-encased thumb along yours, his brown eyes warm. “I know you said I just have to be myself, but being myself includes being totally and immensely in love with you to the point of having to confess twice. Also because my pride still can’t take that I confessed earlier than I wanted to.”

You’re laughing, and he is too, but he wipes away the tears welling up in his eyes and returns his hands to yours, proceeding. “I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember. I’m so grateful and blessed by the stars to have had you in my life as a friend up until now, and I promise you, I’ll do everything I can to return the happiness and more.”

He says your name, soft and precious. Your eyelashes flutter. “Will you let me have the honor of being your boyfriend?”

No hesitation laces your reply.

“Yes, stupid. For you, it’s always yes.”

Sharing giggles, you throw your arms around his neck, lips brushing his before closing the remaining distance. The kiss is just as sweet as the first few, however a little colder due to the frigid winds picking up around you. He feels your smile against his lips and knows his expression is mirroring yours. It's silly and profound, and you would think with how dramatic he’s being, he just proposed to you for life. Shit. He’s getting ahead of himself, and stuffs the thought away for another time.

He pulls away this time and clutches you close to him. “Let’s go inside now? I actually had more to say, but I’m freezing.”

You throw your head back in a mellifluous laugh and nod vigorously. Smiling, Seungkwan firmly believes he’ll never get tired of the sound, just like he’ll never tire of his life being entwined with yours.

┊ Bonus:

Your teeth are chattering and your skin tingles as you step into your wonderfully heated and dimly lit apartment. “Wow, it’s so cold out—”

“Surprise! Happy birthday!”

The lights flicker on as you shout, scrambling back into Seungkwan’s arms. Your friend group stands in various corners of your living area, some holding party poppers and wearing poorly suited birthday hats. Seungcheol holds a cake in his hands that’s frosted with your favorite color. When they see the two of your guys’ interlocked hands, a second round of cheers erupt, and you laugh in disbelief.

“Just so you know, you can thank me for you two finally getting together,” Chan exclaims happily from his spot next to a smirking Jeonghan, pumping his fist in the air with the excitement of a kid who just got told he can stay up an hour past his bedtime.

Seungkwan lunges for him.

“Okay, but am I wrong? Stop it—ow, wait, ouch, stop—!”

[lordprettyflackotara]

Hey Tara, could you do some Toby fluff? Like, specifically a fempov after a nasty breakup...??? Sorry for the weird request ik you usually do smut but I love your style and need some sort of comfort after my boyfriend left me, even if it is just a fictional character... Love you ❤️

-🫀

crown || ticci toby

‘wait, you can’t please everybody’

sum: after a messy breakup you’re undeniably heartbroken and toby wants to make you feel better

tw: unintentionally a little angsty but mostly fluff

a/n: my dearest anon, i am so sorry i just now saw your request. i hope this is not too late and hopefully helps you navigate through your journey and makes you feel a little better. i went through a messy breakup around christmas as well and feel like this resonates with me as well. i’m not the best at writing fluff but i tried, i hope you enjoy and are doing well <3

“I-I found you!”

You could hear that Toby was excited, even as your back was turned to him. You had been curled up in a ball for the past hour, hiding in the attic of the mansion. Dust covered boxes were scattered around the room, your small form perched beside the oval window. You didn’t say anything, unable to match Toby’s typical perky energy. Your knees were tucked to your chest, your gaze settled on the grass outside.

Toby frowned slightly at your lack of a response, the young proxy walking around one of the boxes. “Hey, y-you good?” He asked unsurely. Toby wasn’t good at handling negative emotions, or so he thought. The moonlight gave him a good look at your face, which made his eyes go wide. Bags hung under your eyes, your lips chapped so much they were becoming cracked. Your eyes were undeniably puffy, which he suspected to be from hours of crying. He approached you quickly, squatting down in front of you. He shoved his orange goggles onto his head, licking his own dry lips.

“T-Talk to m-me, what’s wrong?”

The concern lacing Toby’s words was almost enough to send you over the edge again. You inhaled, trying to refrain from more salty tears from escaping your waterline.

“We didn’t workout.”

Your words hung heavy in the air, your ex boyfriend’s name on the tip of your tongue. It felt odd to think about, nevertheless say out loud. Toby’s brain instantly clicked, his bandaged hand reaching out to touch yours. “That’s a g-good thing though r-right? Wasn’t he an asshole towards t-the end anyways?” He asked unsurely. Your eyes were sharp as you met his puppy dog gaze, your flicker of anger immediately diminishing. Instead you took a deep breath, realizing how irrational your scattered emotions were.

In through your nose, out through your mouth.

“It’s not that simple. You don’t know, how horrid the actual breakup was. It was like, the shell of the person I used to know. The man I used to know vanished right before my eyes and got replaced with whatever the fuck he is now,” You rambled. You could feel yourself getting worked up, Toby’s eyes softening as he looked up at you. “I spent so much time, so much time with him and now it’s wasted. Gone. Like it meant nothing at all to him, but it meant everything to me,” You continued. Tears flooded your waterline with ease, painful flashes of memories appearing in your mind. You bit your bottom lip, attempting to stop the tears from flowing. “And I don’t know how i’m supposed to do this. How i’m supposed to waltz around like I know what i’m doing. He was my rock and now he’s gone. It’s like he was never here and I feel like i’m going insane,” You whimpered lowly, unable to stop the tears from free falling.

Toby was never good with dealing with heavy human emotions. Most of the time the responsibility of handling them was handled by someone else in the mansion. But you were the apple of his eye, one his favorite people to walk the planet. So instead he tuned into his instincts, hoping that what he was about to do was even semi socially appropriate. He rose to his feet, sitting across from you on the bench built into the large window. Stretching his long arms outwards he wrapped them around you, pulling you against him abruptly. You tensed for a moment, feeling Toby hold you so close. It wasn’t until your brain registered his warmth and earthy scent that you finally allowed yourself to crumble.

You felt like your lungs were going to collapse, your breath shallow as you nuzzled your face into his chest. Your chest felt tight, your sobs muffled as you cried into his signature jacket. Your soft sounds only made him hold you tighter, the brunette careful to not squeeze you too hard. Toby swallowed, bringing his slender fingers to your hair. Unsurely, he began to stroke it, hoping it would bring you some sort of ease. He continued these actions until you had no tears left to cry, your wheezing now simmering down to deep breaths. “I’m s-sorry I don’t h-have the inhaler,” Toby apologized, regretting leaving it with Tim. (It was in fact Tim’s inhaler).

His sudden outburst made you chuckle, even as a few more stray tears slid down your cheeks. You pulled back a few inches, just enough for Toby to see your face. He didn’t like seeing you like this, so hurt. Without thinking he raised his hand, fingertips grazing your cheek as he tucked some stray hairs behind your ear. “F-Fuck him, you’re the important one, y-you’re the one,” Toby said as confidently as he could muster. You knew his words meant well, even if they didn’t come out the way he meant for them to. He used the pad of his thumb to swipe away the few remaining tears, cupping your cheeks. Your eyes fluttered closed, your face relaxing in the palms of his hands.

Social constructs were a mystery to Toby, truthfully. But he knew in this moment to do what he thought was best. He leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. He ignored any emotion he felt towards the gesture, his attention completely centralized on you. “Y-You know i’m not the b-b-best with words, but I p-promise everything’s gonna be okay,” He mumbled, his chocolate eyes filled with worry as he tried to catch your gaze. Your glassy eyes eventually met his, your bottom lip trembling as you confessed, “He’s the one who left me, Toby.”

You might as well have shot him dead then and there. Toby couldn’t feel pain, due to a list of neurological disorders he couldn’t bother to remember. But he knew for a fact he felt a pang of despair mixed with anger thud in his chest. “P-Piece of shit,” He grumbled, his hands still cupping your cheeks. The animalistic side of Toby wanted to find him, to make him hurt for causing you so much pain. But the soft look in your eyes, the way you were borderline clinging to him, made those thoughts evaporate. You came first. You needed him. You needed Toby more than you needed anyone. Swallowing thickly Toby tilted your head upwards, forcing you to look at him.

“You’re b-better off without him, alright? I never liked him anyways,” Toby started. Maybe this wasn’t the correct way to comfort someone, maybe he should try a different route instead of spewing insults. He dug into his jacket pocket, pulling out a small joint. “It’s n-not much but, we can s-smoke and talk about it,” He offered. This made a sad smile creep up your lips, your hands moving to open the window. “I think i’d like that Toby,” You agreed. You both readjusted in your seats, turning to face the window. Toby admired the moon as you took the joint between your lips, sparking the lighter. Again, social constructs were foreign to him. But as he threw his arm around your shoulders and pulled you closer, he got the sense he made the right decision.

[buddiekinard]

a thing because i keep thinking about lou's naked body and i can't stop thinking about mpreg .....don't look at me..... This is just in my head and sometimes it's gotta get out. I am not starting another wip on tumblr. I am not.

Tommy turns off his truck outside of Eddie's house. He'd gone by the station first, but Evan is apparently off today. He wasn't at the loft either. Tommy could just call him, but this isn't a phone call conversation. This is a face to face in person conversation.

He sees Evan's jeep in the drive way, so at least he won't have to ask Eddie where Evan is. He hasn't talked to Eddie in over a month either.

He wonders if Eddie's decorated for Christmas. He doesn't know what's going on with Eddie and Christopher. He supposes that's what happens when you break up with your friend's best friend. They kind of aren't your friend anymore. (Not that Tommy had tried to contact him, either, even though he had texted him, once, the morning after he'd broken up with Evan.)

He grips the steering wheel and lets out a slow breath before getting out of his truck. He passes Evan's jeep on his walk up the drive and almost turns and runs back to his truck. Evan would never know he was here. He could keep his secret, figure out what to do on his own. Evan would never have to know.

Evan probably doesn't want anything to do with Tommy, and Tommy can't blame him. He'd run instead of talking, but then. Evan had jumped head first in to move in with me without talking, too. So he's trying not to blame himself too much.

He's just about to ring the buzzer when the door swings open and Evan is standing in front of him, box in his hand.

"Tommy? Wh-what are you doing here?"

"Would you believe me if I said looking for you?"

"How did you know I was here?"

"Well, you weren't at the station or at home, so I thought I'd try Eddie's." Tommy tries to remind himself why he's here, so he doesn't cut and run again. He knows this man has the power to break his heart, and it's a hart power for him to give up.

"You could have called me instead of driving all over the city?"

He pushes past Tommy with the box in hand and drops it in the back of Eddie's truck.

"This isn't a phone conversation."

"I spent two weeks doing nothing but try to talk to you." Evan turns to go back inside and then Eddie walks past with a duffle and tosses it in the passenger seat.

"Tommy? Hey, what are you doing here?" Eddie looks between them, raises an eyebrow at Evan in question, and then turns to give Tommy a skeptical look.

"It's fine, Eddie. I'm fine." Evan looks back at Tommy. "If you want to talk to me you can follow me inside. I have another suitcase to bring out.

"Is Eddie leaving?"

"No, but he's going to El Paso for a while." Evan picks up a suitcase. "You have really great timing."

"I'm sorry."

"Sorry for your timing? Sorry for breaking my heart to save your own? Which one is it?"

"Evan, can you stop for two seconds?"

Evan stops walk and drops his shoulders to look at Tommy. His face crumbles a bit, and Tommy can see he's not angry. There's something behind his eyes that says he's trying not to break. Tommy understands. He's felt that way for a month.

"I've stopped what do you need?"

"Maybe not here."

"Look, this is where we are, and Eddie is leaving today, so I'm not going anywhere, so you can talk to me here or we can meet later."

"Evan - "

"I miss you." Evan says. "I'm glad you're calling me Evan. It felt like a knife to the gut when you called me Buck." He sits down on Eddie's couch, slumping into it a little. "Sit."

Tommy does as Evan says.

"What's going on, Tommy? I'll listen." "Evan, I have to tell you something."

"I get that. What is it, Tommy?"

"I - " Tommy feels like he should run. Maybe running was always the right choice.

"Tommy." Evan rests his hand on Tommy's thigh. It's just a soft gesture. Tommy missed touching Evan. He's not mad at it. "What is it? You're not dying, are you?"

"I'm pregnant, Evan."

"Uh - " Their heads snap behind them to find Eddie standing there. "Right, I'm going to just, uh. I'm gonna go to the kitchen. Right. Coffee for the road."

Eddie disappears into the next room.

Tommy looks over at Evan, and he's just staring, not saying anything.

[lesbianherald]

hiii I’m curious : what’s your process for creating your stories? like character development, plotting, creating arcs, etc?

thank you for asking !!! i'm going to get way longer and more thorough about this than necessary I feel it in my bones so I'm going to read more this now (I included a few tidbits from my miro board for carry the blade :) )

it's such a mixed bag ! part of this is my adhd lmao, and part of it is because, genuinely, I think each story needs something different.

almost ALWAYS (with one rare exception of a sci/fi fantasy world I've been building for years) I start with character, especially in original work. Because character is everything it's who we're following it's what the audience/readership will grab onto. Usually I have a basic premise and setting already there, but I don't build on it until I get to know who we're dealing with in the story. And then after building up the premise, setting, and plot I do even more character work after.

sometimes.... sometimes I get really impatient to start and start writing half way through the planning process. But anyways.

so I come up with character. do the basics. think about what their deal is. What is the journey they need to have, the lesson they need to learn, what themes and emotions do I want to explore with this character? Why is she important to me? Why will she be important to others?

I also think a lot about relationships

i just wrote a coming of age dramatic comedy for instance, and for that one, I broke up the story into my protagonists relationships. Wrote out the arc/story of each relationship and then combined each of these arcs into the key points that made up the film. Each relationship I wanted to be relevant to her grieving process, as she had just lost her mother. IDK if that makes sense. I wish I could show you but unfortunately I cannot.

for fic its honestly similar, but we already know character, so I usually ask what about this character/these characters am I most excited to explore.

that being said, coming home came to me in the idea for what they'd be like in modern day, and then a single idea for a single scene - their first kiss in the lab. I wrote that first, then asked myself what the context I wanted to give it was. Of course, I changed it a little once I actually got to writing and fleshing out chapter eight.

but this fantasy fic i'm writing is a fun example. I'm building out a lot. I'm building out characters, the world, the themes. - using visuals to help me kind of guide myself.

but because I have adhd and get impatient. I am outlining throughout this process to keep myself entertained. perhaps ideally you'd figure out everything first then outline then write but my brain just doesn't work that way.

in fics, especially, the relationship is so important that I really like to see how the obstacles they face, both due to their own psychology and internal pressures, can reflect the themes, create tension, etc.

but i also like to reflect on side characters too - their motivations and desires. So they don't just become like - flat little reflections of the central love story.

Finally, and this i learned from acting theory mostly - but I love it - is in each scene I like to think of what each character wants, what they are going to do to try and get that, and why they want it. In this fic, wants are something I also look at from a chapter by chapter basis.

side note - and i'm only saying this this far down so hopefully not too may people will see it - but I do have a secret subplot going on throughout the first half of this story that the audience doesn't know about.

in order to make this work I've been mapping out everything going on behind the scenes, and making sure they pair up well with events that people reading will see. it helps me plant little hints and seeds while hopefully not giving too much away (secret subplot in blue, actual story in red)

sorry i know this is such a ramble I just took my meds and had a double shot of expresso so I am buzzing right now lmao! Obviously I'm not the expert and there's not only one way. And also it really is so different for me every time. It's important to think about what the story actually calls for !