#sorry for the late answer ughhhh

[messylustt]

Jzhxjsh if can I make another request, I REALLY LOVE TOOOO MUCH YOUR WRITING AND i need jealous like i need oxygen

“ if i didn’t know any better, i’d say you were jealous ” & “ you look really pretty right now ”

only free to me — leon kennedy. ughhhh i need jealous hobie too like bdjskjdks

hobie’s gaze was locked onto the spider variant talking to you. you and hobie were seated, your gaze looking up at the arrival of someone hobie now easily can say he dislikes. hobie found himself slowly reaching out for you, his leg bent up on the long bench. and by subtly tugging at your suit you were forced to slide towards him, his legs now open around you.

his gaze never shifted from the spider variant who was earning a few too many smiles from you. and it almost felt like a relief when the spider finally got called away. you wave him off, before shifting your gaze to hobie, your smile having fallen. “what was that?”

“what was what?” hobie “innocently” asks, his fingers still not having let up their grip on your suit. you look down at his connected hand. “that.”

he looks down too, a small lazy smile edging his lips, as he rubs the material by your hip between his fingertips. “you look really pretty right now…you know that?”

you give hobie a look. you were used to this. this flirting and smirking attitude. “ha ha.” you mockingly say, turning away to continue eating.

“you think i’m joking?” he raises his brows as you glance at him again. his leg around you seems to be more prominent the closer he shifts towards you.

“you’re always joking.” you remark. hobie shakes his head “don’t believe in comedy.”

“oh, that’s right.” you chuckle, unconvinced, looking back to your food. before you can place a forkful in your mouth, hobie redirects it to his as he leans close by you. you smack his hand away, but it’s too late, your foods gone.

“really? i was looking forward to that.” you mutter, frowning. hobie makes a point to eat it slowly, savouring the taste with small sounds, resulting in you elbowing his stomach.

he slightly doubles over, laughing. and just as you go to scold him, the spider variant from before taps your shoulder. “hey, sorry i didn’t get to ask before — mission report run. but uh, are you free tonight?”

you pause, eyes slightly widening. “oh, uh…yea—“

“nah.” hobie instantly cuts in, looping his arm around your shoulder so that you press more into him. “she’s busy, sorry mate.”

you shift your gaze to hobie eyes narrowing sharply in question. “aren’t you?” he asks you raising his brows pointedly.

“no, I’m sorry, I don’t know what he’s talking about — ” you begin to say to the spider variant but hobie swiftly placed his hand over your mouth, your back now having shifted to his front, his stance now straddling the bench.

“she doesn’t wanna admit it, poor thing, but she’s sick. she’s a lil embarrassed.” hobie states, looking to the spider who is eyeing the interaction with a mixture of a nod and a confused expression. you slightly struggle against his grip, but hobie just rests his chin on your shoulder, you now practically flush against him.

“I’ve told her there’s nothin’ to be embarrassed about, but ya know. she likes to keep up appearances.”

“maybe another time…then.” the spider variant suggests.

“hm.” hobie just hums, silently saying ‘no’ in his head, while he fake smiles at the poor spider until he leaves.

that’s when hobie finally let’s up his grip on your mouth, as you spin to face him. “what the hell was that?”

hobie shrugs. “no, no don’t just shrug at me.” you say pointedly. “you’ve done this before. the last time that guy asked me out. I was not sick then, and i’m not sick now.” you pause, eyes narrowing. “if i didn’t know any better, i’d say you were jealous.”

hobie scoffs. “jealous?”

“then explain that.” you gesture in general to the interaction before.

“he’s a dick.” hobie says. “no he’s not.” you answer easily. “he may be thick headed sometimes, but everyone here knows how nice he is. so, come on, what’s your next excuse.”

hobie’s eyes narrow as you cross your arms. you raise your brows waiting. “if you aren’t gonna say anything, then imma go apologise to him and explain that i’m free — ”

this time hobie cuts you off by tugging you closer and grabbing your chin, his lips smashing against yours. you gasp into his mouth, as you’re tipped back, your back forcing to arch as he holds you against him. his seating position made it easier to control the movements.

your seating position made it hard. hobie used that to his advantage as his hands found your waist, his lips wrapping around your lower and sucking. he then begins to slightly shake his head his lips brushing yours. “but you aren’t free…ya wouldnt wanna lie now would ya?”

you’re shocked, and all that comes out of your mouth is “but i don’t have plans tonight.”

hobie chuckles, licking at your lower lip slowly as he makes sure you stay close. “i don’t mean ‘schedule’ wise, love…” his mouth opens against your own, panting breathes mixing. “i mean you aren’t free to anyone but me…”

© messylustt.tumblr please don’t steal, copy or translate my work onto other platforms.

[yournightmary]

Imagine reader spending lotsss of time with Jesse as of late, Ellie is like oh my goddd he gets all the girls I want (from when she used to like Dina) but actually reader is just head over heels for her best friend and she’s been confiding in Jesse over it ): oblivious cuties

content warning:: fem!reader, thats all I think idk

AN:: This feels kinda rushed sorry:(

⇢ ˗ˏˋ You and Ellie became best friends the moment she stepped into Jackson. You were the one that showed her all the spots, explained all the jobs and even introduced her to everyone.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ Then after a little get together you became a bit distant and she was so confused. Like did she do something and doesn’t remember it or what??

⇢ ˗ˏˋ Truth was- you realized you had a crush on her and didn’t want to fuck it up or spill it on accident.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ But she’s not that stupid. She saw that you started talking to Jesse more. I mean- you even dropped patrol with her and went with him. What the hell!!

⇢ ˗ˏˋ She talked about it with Dina, who had to act oblivious because she promised Jesse she wouldn’t tell Ellie that she knows the reason why you’re so avoidant.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ So when you were spilling your guts to Jesse, Ellie was doing the same to Dina. The two of them would totally meet up after and talk about how stupid and oblivious you both are.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ Ughhhh and the worst part is that you both started thinking that the other has feelings for the person they’re confiding in.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ But then you got assigned patrol together… It was a little awkward and quiet at first, but after some time you managed some small talk.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ She tried to pry a little and ask about you and Jesse but didn’t get an actual answer. You did the same about dina and the result was the same.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ After you both came back to Jackson it was somehow even more awkward than before. You didn’t even know why, it just was.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ Dina and Jesse got fed up with it. Not about the fact that you both were confiding in them, but because you just were so oblivious to each other feelings that it actually pained them.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ Jesse tricked you into meeting up together. he told you that it’ll be just you and him but surprise, surprise- it was just you and Ellie.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ Honestly, the moment she saw you she wanted to turn around and run away. But she didn’t.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ She was not only angry at Dina for setting her up, sad from the thoughts of you and Jesse but also nervous just because it was you.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ You both decided that it’s time to finally talk things out and headed to her little cabin. She didn’t even let you speak (as she does) before yapping your ear off about how she’s totally fine with you liking Jesse and how she was confiding in Dina about you.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ You literally just stared at her deadpan until she stopped talking, her eyes already teary and her bottom lip trembling. It was hard for you to not laugh from the anxiety but also because of how oblivious you both were.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ Then you told her your part of the story, you both laughed it off and started dating. Good ending.

arcane s2 combined with school is making me want to cry

[m1ckeyb3rry]

hii, i was wondering if i could submit a request for a fic🤔I don't rlly have any specific prompt but i want it to be about karasu or zantetsu, either one is fine. i've read all of ur karasu fics and they're so good! i love ur writing sm!! if u don't want to i totally understand but i also just want to tell u that i think ur writing is awesome (^◡^)

Synopsis: You become taken with your coworker’s roommate, Karasu, unaware that he’s just as fascinated by you — and maybe he has been for longer than you realize.

BLLK Masterlist

Pairing: Karasu x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 8.6k

Content Warnings: relationship dynamics many would consider…interesting…, <- never thought i’d be using THAT for a karasu fic, i’m bored of normal karasu characterization so i made him ooc, he’s like fr a weirdo icl, otoya catches strays, yukimiya is just trying to get through the workday, reader is a model, reader’s feet are mentioned a lot?? not sexually in the slightest (they’re injured so she complains abt them) but i mean it’s there ig if you’re a hater, very vague and unfinished feeling not on purpose i just gave up tbh

A/N: you sent this to me so long ago idek if you remember it LMAOAOAO i am so sorry i like fell off the face of the earth in terms of answering requests but HERE IT IS erm sorry it actually highkey sucks but at least karasu is in it…i guess…UGHHHH I HATE THIS BUT I COULDN’T KEEP PROCRASTINATING IT YOU LITERALLY SENT THIS IN THE BEGINNING OF AUGUST I’M SO SORRY MY DEAR but also tysm HAHHA you are very sweet!! i’m glad you like my writing and once again i am sorry for disappearing…

Additional: check my pinned post to make sure i have requests open; after reading the rules, please feel free to make your own!

You had never seen the man leaning against the wall behind the camera before. He wore a dark trench coat and a plaid scarf looped around his neck, and unlike everyone else bustling about the set, barking out orders and shoving each other into place, he was entirely calm. In his right hand, he held his phone, scrolling through something on it with his thumb, and in between his teeth was a lollipop — cherry flavored, which you only knew because of the wrapper lying at his feet.

“That’s not Yukimiya, right?” you whispered to the girl who was buttoning up the back of your top.

“Hm?” she said. “No, Mr. Yukimiya hasn’t checked in yet. I have no idea who that is.”

He was tall, with wide shoulders and the type of face that must have been crafted with painstaking detail by someone or another, his features keen, his eyes a brilliant shade of blue so dark they were nearly violet or black. Dark hair fell into darker eyebrows like the ink of a ballpoint pen on a paper-pale forehead, and just above his left cheekbone was a black beauty mark, which changed everything and yet nothing about him.

You supposed he must’ve sensed your gaze lingering on him, for he furrowed his brow and then lifted his chin, scanning the room before his eyes meet yours. He didn’t seem offended by the prying, his lips curling into a smile as he lifted his left hand into a jaunty wave, returning his attention to whatever he was reading on his phone before you could respond in turn or do anything to feel less like you had been caught committing some crime.

“I’m sorry I’m late!”

This must’ve been Kenyu Yukimiya, your partner for the shoot. He was handsome, too, with a harried, windswept appearance to his reddened cheeks and tousled hair; when he grinned at you apologetically, he was entirely reminiscent of a painting from antiquity.

He sat in the chair next to you as the makeup team got to work, applying the faintest touch of product so that he was not entirely washed out by the blinding lights of the cameras in your faces. You returned his smile with one of your own, polite and careful.

“Luckily, the director hasn’t arrived yet, so it’s not a problem,” you said. “Apparently, he’s strict on everyone but himself.”

Yukimiya winced as a heap of clothes was thrown at him and the finishing touches were placed on his chestnut hair. You watched him with amusement, your hands folded in your lap as he was yanked to his feet.

“Guess I got lucky this time, then,” he said, stumbling into the dressing room, the door slamming shut behind him. You stood yourself, stretching your arms and legs with a deep breath, rolling your ankles in the air, alternating as you did so, and then pacing back and forth in an attempt to accustom yourself to the monstrosities that your feet had been shoved into.

The man in the corner didn’t seem affected by the chaos Yukimiya’s appearance had thrown everyone into. You thought you saw something like a snort escape him, but otherwise he was calm — although you noticed he had tucked his phone away and shoved his hands in his pockets, opting to instead observe his surroundings with a soft curiosity.

You turned away before he could shift his attention to you once again, because your pride could not handle being caught by him a second time, and you pretended like you were entirely fascinated with putting one foot in front of the other, walking in a line so straight it was as if it had been drawn with a ruler.

Yukimiya reappeared completely ready a few seconds later, tying the laces of his dress shoes and then joining you at your side, although of course he did not need to practice walking or anything so silly. Like most men, he had been afforded the luxury of comfort; he wasn’t the showpiece of this edition, after all. You were, and so you were the one made up into a spectacle beyond natural ability or attempt.

“Everyone, in your places!” the director shouted as he entered the studio, a steaming cup of coffee in one hand and the other on his hip. He was diminutive in stature and wore a ridiculously feathered hat, but what he lacked in height, he more than made up for in position, so nobody would dare to say that to him, least of all you, who could so easily be replaced.

Still, for one final time, you allowed yourself to look at the man standing all by himself, wondering if he’d offer some reaction to the getup, some indication that you weren’t alone in your feelings. You weren’t sure why it was him who you sought out; perhaps because he, unlike everyone else, was a mystery, an enigma, and so while you could map out without knowing what all the other faces in the room looked like at that moment, you needed to see his to understand it.

He wrinkled his nose into a snicker, shaking his head like he couldn’t quite believe his eyes, and then he took his phone back out of his pocket, maybe to give himself an excuse for laughing. It wasn’t like he really needed an excuse, because no one else was even looking at him, but then again, there was never any harm in caution.

“You’re Y/N L/N, right?” Yukimiya said to you, his hand on your shoulder as you faced the camera, waiting for the director to adjust your stances. “It’s a pleasure. I’m surprised this is the first time we’re actually talking.”

“The pleasure is mine,” you said. “And yes, it’s a wonder we haven’t worked together before, given how frequently I’ve heard your name mentioned. I’m looking forward to it.”

Something about Yukimiya served to enhance everyone he was around, and so, instead of stealing the attention from you, he somehow managed to direct the spotlight so that it shone only on your placid face. You had been expecting the opposite, but you weren’t angry about it; in fact, you couldn’t have been more pleased. It was always the worst thing when your coworker was jostling you out of the way for a few extra seconds in front of the cameras, and you thought to yourself that you’d have to find some way of ensuring you were booked with him more often.

“Amazing! I don’t think I’ve ever been so quickly satisfied by a shoot!” the director said, clapping his hands together and nodding at you both. “Excellent work. I think we can wrap up for the day. I’ll see you two here at the same time tomorrow!”

“Wow,” Yukimiya said as everyone started disassembling the set. “I thought you said he was strict.”

You shrugged as you walked over to the dressing rooms. “I thought he was.”

“Well, we probably shouldn’t complain,” he said. “Between this and practice, my schedule is booked. I have no space to be ungrateful about a little extra time.”

“Very true,” you said. “It’s always nice when things like this end sooner than anticipated. Better than later, anyways.”

The first thing you took off were those excuses for shoes, kicking them under the door for good measure and shoving your feet into a pair of fluffy slippers, wiggling your toes with a sigh. Peeling off every layer you had squeezed into for the sake of the director’s creative vision, you curled up on the bench in only your underwear, sipping on water through a metal straw and staring at the wall, hugging your knees to your chest, lost in thinking about nothing.

Only when you grew cold did you stand, pulling on a sweatshirt three sizes too large and sweatpants that puddled at your shoes, shielding you from the world as you trudged out of the dressing room, wanting to rub your eyes but knowing that you would smear makeup all over the backs of your hands. You settled instead for playing with the thread you had taped to the handle of your water bottle for exactly such an occasion, twirling the loose ends of the meticulous knots in between your fingers idly.

“Ah — L/N!” Yukimiya waved at you as you made your way towards the exit. Unaccustomed to further camaraderie after the end of the workday, you had to fight to keep your expression neutral, and when you noticed the man from earlier was at Yukimiya’s side, the lollipop long gone, you had to fight even harder.

“Is something the matter?” you said.

“No, nothing at all,” he said. “I just figured we might as well walk to the parking garage together, since it’s late and all.”

“I appreciate it,” you said. The studio you were at had only one security guard in its employ, a man that inspired pity more than fear, with a few strands of hair glued into a desperate attempt at a combover and a shirt that was far too thin to be considered professional, so you hadn’t even considered asking for an escort, figuring you would take your chances. Still, the thought of walking alone wasn’t the most appealing, and while you wouldn’t have asked for it yourself, you were glad Yukimiya had offered his company nonetheless.

“Oh! Karasu, this is Y/N L/N. L/N, this is Tabito Karasu,” Yukimiya said as you reached the door and the other man — Karasu — used one black-gloved hand to open it.

“Is he your bodyguard or something? Thank you,” you said, nodding at Karasu for holding the door.

“He wishes,” Karasu said. His voice was rough and deep and sounded like he was perpetually in on some private joke, but you didn’t mind it, not in the slightest. “I’m his roommate — the one with a car, by the way. And a driver’s license. And the time to pick his sorry ass up.”

“What he means is that he offered to stop by on his way home to get me,” Yukimiya said.

“That’s very generous of you,” you said. “Especially considering you were there even before Yukimiya was.”

“Don’t you think? It’s fine, now he owes me one,” Karasu said, his eyes glimmering. “And I intend to collect, of course.”

“He never does anything out of the goodness of his heart,” Yukimiya said with a long-suffering sigh. “You better be careful around him, L/N. Whatever he gives you, he’ll expect the same in return.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you said, though of course you had no intentions of ever being around Karasu in any way that mattered.

“We play soccer for the Japanese team, you know,” Karasu said. “You should come to one of our games, L/N. I’m sure some of our teammates would be delighted by that. Right, Yuki?”

Yukimiya sighed, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “If you’re talking about Otoya and Aiku, then yes, but that’s not necessarily a good thing.”

“Not for her, it isn’t,” Karasu said. “For them, sure it is. But I wasn’t talking about those two, anyways.”

“Pardon?” you said.

“Ignore him,” Yukimiya said. “I don’t really know what he’s going on about.”

“It was nice meeting you,” Karasu said, picking up before Yukimiya on the fact that your steps had stuttered to a stop. “L/N, was it?”

He offered you his hand. You took it and shook, arching a brow at the firmness of his grip, which was much more in line with a businessman than a soccer player. 

“Yes,” you said. “Karasu? It was nice to meet you as well.”

“Don’t worry,” Yukimiya said, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “I’ll make my other roommate pick me up tomorrow.”

“Otoya?” Karasu said. “Good luck with that. He’ll be late to his own funeral, so don’t think you’re high on his priority list. The only time he comes early is—”

“Karasu,” Yukimiya interjected. “Don’t be crass.”

“Sure, sure,” he said. “See you around, L/N. Or maybe not.”

“See you,” you said, starting your car so that it wasn’t freezing when you got in, deciding it wouldn’t be polite to tack on a definitely not to the farewell and instead opting to stay silent.

“Bye, L/N,” Yukimiya said. “Until tomorrow.”

Although your apartment wasn’t large by any means, it wasn’t small, either, sitting at a comfortable medium that was paid for half by you and half by your brother, who was hardly ever home, anyways, but needed somewhere for his mail to be delivered. He was a free spirit, always traveling: for work, for fun, for women and wine, for anything his heart desired, which left you the entire space to yourself more often than not. People were jealous of you when they found out, but when you sat on the couch alone, a blanket pulled up around your shoulders and a bowl of salad held in between your knees, the television on only to ward away the silence that permeated the room, you wondered what they had to be jealous of.

The next day, you didn’t look for Karasu when you entered the studio, but you knew as you stepped in that he wasn’t there. There was something missing, the room a little brighter without him in the corner, waiting with an unmatched patience for Yukimiya to be done. Yukimiya must’ve made good on his threat, then, to call their other roommate to pick him up, although privately you wondered why he couldn’t just drive himself.

The shoot went even smoother the second day than it had the first, and it was a surprise the director didn’t fall to your feet and grovel at the speed with which you executed his vision. Yukimiya struck that perfect balance of workmanlike and personable, and you were content to play along with him, so all in all things moved with relative swiftness.

When you went to leave, you noticed that Yukimiya was standing by the door on his own, tapping his phone furiously. You were under no obligation to stop, but for some reason, you did, waiting awkwardly for a second before clearing your throat.

“Is everything alright?” you said. He startled, almost dropping his phone as he blinked at you.

“Yes! Yes, it’s fine, it’s just my roommate is a jerk, that’s all. Last night, he told me he was fine with picking me up, but now all of a sudden he’s busy,” he said with a scoff.

“Otoya, right?” you said. Yukimiya cocked his head.

“Yes, how’d you know?” he said.

“Karasu — your other roommate mentioned him yesterday,” you said, correcting yourself so that it didn’t seem like Karasu was someone you paid special attention to. Judging by Yukimiya’s expression, you didn’t think you had been entirely successful in the attempt, which was unlike you. You bit the tip of your tongue so that you didn’t say anything further, waiting for him to respond.

“Right,” he said.

“Why don’t you drive yourself?” you said, crossing your arms and standing beside him, facing the road as he was. 

“I can’t,” he said.

“You never learned?” you said. He shook his head, adjusting his glasses self-consciously.

“It’s not recommended I do,” he said. He didn’t elaborate further, but he didn’t have to; you recognized it wasn’t your place and hummed in acknowledgement.

“If you want, I don’t mind taking you,” you said. You didn’t know where Yukimiya lived — for all you knew, it was across the city entirely — but it didn’t hurt to extend your hand like that, especially because you had a sense that he wouldn’t even accept it.

“It’s alright,” Yukimiya said. “Karasu said he’s on his way, since last he checked, Otoya’s in the shower now, for some reason.”

“Oh,” you said. “That’s kind of him.”

“Kind?” Yukimiya said, and then to your surprise, he laughed. “I wish I knew as little about him as you do.”

“Is he a bad person?” you said.

“Not at all,” Yukimiya said. “He’s great. He’s one of my best friends, in fact; it’s just that kind and Karasu rarely if ever go together in the same sentence.”

“How can someone be your best friend if you don’t even think they’re kind?” you said, intrigued by the puzzle Yukimiya had presented you with. The way he spoke of Karasu, it was as if he were some willful spirit that occasionally deigned to lend his aid to those who could bring him some benefit, but the way the two of them treated one another didn’t seem anything like that.

“I don’t know,” Yukimiya said. “If you knew him better, I wouldn’t have to explain this. He’s a hard person to understand, and just when you think you’ve finally got it, he goes and complicates things further.”

“That sounds exhausting,” you said.

“That’s the strangest thing about it all,” Yukimiya said as a car pulled up in front of you both, the hazard lights turning on. “With him, it’s entirely natural.”

Karasu stepped out of the driver’s side, shutting it behind him and joining the two of you on the curb, grinning at Yukimiya in a way that almost felt mocking.

“Told you Otoya wasn’t to be trusted,” he said. “You’re paying for dinner.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Yukimiya said, tossing his bag at Karasu, who caught it without flinching. “Put this in for me.”

“Whatever you say,” Karasu said, opening the back door of the car and throwing the bag onto the floor before slamming it shut and patting the handle for good measure. “Is that everything, your royal highness?”

“Yes,” Yukimiya said. “I’m going to kill Otoya when we get back.”

“Hm,” Karasu said. “Violent.”

“He deserves it,” Yukimiya said. “Bye, L/N. Thanks for waiting with me.”

“It’s not an issue,” you said, especially because you hadn’t done it on purpose, and even if you had, it hadn’t been for him. “I’m glad everything worked out.”

You wanted to say something more, something to Karasu in particular, but you didn’t know what or how. It wasn’t like you knew him — not a little and not at all, as Yukimiya had pointed out, and indeed you had no reason to speak to him in the first place. He wasn’t anything but your coworker’s roommate, so what did he mean to you?

Yukimiya shut his door with a hurried apology about the cold, and then it was just you and Karasu on the curb, and you couldn’t tell why, but the way he looked at you made you think he could hear every thought which was racing through your mind. 

“Yukimiya’s right. It’s cold out,” he said. “You should go home now.”

“I’m just about to,” you said.

“Are you?” he said. 

“Why are you questioning that?” you said, surprisingly affronted, although he hadn’t said anything insulting. “Of course I am. It’s not like I have anywhere else to go.”

“I’m not questioning anything,” he said. “Drive safely.”

“Wait,” you said. “Will you be here tomorrow?”

“Would you prefer it if I am?” he said.

“I’d prefer it if you answered my questions instead of coming up with more of your own,” you said, which you thought would be met with shock — after all, it was a rare thing that you broke character and said anything that could be perceived as cutting — but was instead received with a snicker.

“Yes,” he said. “I’ll be here tomorrow. Early, if that’s what you want.”

“It doesn’t matter to me,” you said. “Do what you’d like.”

“I think that I will,” he said, and then Yukimiya was rolling down the window, telling him to hurry up, damnit, so he left you behind without another word, the car’s engine purring as they drove away.

You must’ve looked like such a fool the next morning, the final of the shoot, your eyes immediately going to the corner where Karasu had been that first day. It was empty, and despite yourself, your shoulders slumped when you realized that he wasn’t there, which was enough for you to break out of that strange trance. Why had you even hoped in the first place? He had made no indication that he was going to come, and you were old enough to know that hoping and wishing were certain paths to disappointment.

“Do you want me to take you back tonight?” you asked Yukimiya, sitting in a chair beside him as you waited for the director to come. It was a clumsy and roundabout way of getting to what you actually wanted out of him, but the last thing you could do was tell him the truth. What would he say, if he knew why you were actually offering? What would he think of you then?

“Hm? No, it’s fine, Karasu’s already got it. He’s at the gym with Shidou — er, another teammate of ours — right now, but he’ll be done before we are, and the studio’s closer to the gym than our apartment is, so he told me it wouldn’t be any extra trouble,” he said, and you thought he must’ve added those extra details for the sole purpose of seeing what your response to them would be, but then you remembered that Yukimiya wasn’t that kind of person. He was just telling you as a way to fill the time, not to get one over you or anything like that.

“That’s good,” you said. “Convenient.”

“Yup,” Yukimiya said. “My agent told me we’d be doing individual photos today.”

“Huh?” you said. “Oh, right. Yes, I think that’s the case.”

“That’s a shame. I enjoyed working with you,” he said.

“Me, too,” you said, and unlike most times, you weren’t lying when you did. “I’m sure we’ll meet again soon, though. There’s not so many of us our age.”

“True,” he said. “It’s a given.”

“Exactly,” you said.

“Yukimiya! You’re up first!” the director shouted, entering as he always did — like a whirlwind, leaving papers scattered and assistants flustered in his wake. 

“That’s my cue,” Yukimiya said with a long-suffering sigh.

“Good luck,” you said, glad that it wasn’t your turn just yet. The shoes you were meant to wear sat innocently before you, about two feet away, and although it was impossible for inanimate objects to be snide, they were quite close to it, glaring at you with their bejeweled straps and their impossible tall heels, tittering between themselves at the thought of the cuts already forming on your ankles, the bandages you’d have to remove in order for those terrors to slide on without fuss.

You set your water bottle on the armrest of your chair, taking up the thread and crossing it over itself in the patterns you had been taught in elementary school. You didn’t have anyone to tie these bracelets around, and you couldn’t wear them yourself, for they’d be cut away almost immediately, but the repetitive motions soothed your mind, distracting you from the red soaking through your white socks.

“L/N!” the director screamed, even though you were sitting right there and could hear him perfectly fine. “Put your damn shoes on and get the hell up here!”

Without Yukimiya there to soften the blow, you were the direct target of all of his anger. Swallowing back every emotion you had ever felt and would ever feel, you bent over and began to rip the nude-colored band-aids, stained rusty at the edges, off. Balling them up and throwing them in the trash, you stood on aching soles and pulled the shoes on, one after another, clenching your teeth and taking off your sweater so that you could waltz over to where the cameras were trained.

“Took you long enough,” the director groused. 

“Yes, sir,” you said. “How should I stand?”

“Just put your hands there, and your one leg there,” the director said vaguely, waving his arms about before striking what must’ve been an approximation of the pose he wanted you to take. You did your best to copy it, and the cameras went off, your vision temporarily fleeing and then coming back in spots as the lights faded. “No!”

“No?” you said.

“That’s all wrong! It’s horrible, horrible — you’re not even trying to do what I asked!” he said. “Yukimiya could do it, so why can’t you? Just do this!”

He did the same thing again. You weren’t sure what else you could adjust, but you moved slightly, twisting your torso at a different angle and smiling without your teeth this time. He grunted and motioned for the cameras to go again, but after a few more photos, he groaned, dragging his face over his hands.

“This is horrendous! You look entirely stiff and posed. It’s like you're a mannequin!” he said.

“I don’t — I’m not — what should I fix?” you said, unable to stop nerves from creeping into your voice and jostling it about. As difficult as he was to work with, you knew that the director was a big name in the industry, and if he only had bad things to say about you, then your entire livelihood would be threatened.

“Ugh!” he said, stomping onto the set and grabbing your arm, wrenching it down so hard you were surprised it didn’t dislocate. You chewed on the frayed flesh of the inside of your cheek to keep from yelping, allowing yourself to be pliable as he dragged your leg forward into what he wanted from you. “It’s like you’re a completely different person today! Just disappointing.”

Whatever position he had coerced you into was nothing like the one he had wanted you to imitate, but you refrained from pointing that out, holding it in place while the photographers adjusted their lenses. It was uncomfortable and made the lace lining your collar dig into your throat even more, but at least that served as a reminder for you to be silent.

“That’s enough,” the director said, massaging his temples. “We’re not getting anything more out of you.”

“What?” you said, standing normally, tired of contorting yourself for the impossible-to-please man. “What do you mean?”

“You’re lifeless. I don’t know how you managed to fool me yesterday and the day before, but I see it now. Honestly, if it weren’t for the concerning accusations I’d face, I’d just dig up a grave and pay the families half the royalties. It’d be a cheaper and better performance than whatever you’re giving me,” he said.

“What?” you said again, shame pouring over you, cold in a way that was closer to heat, ringing in your ears and coating your tongue. You couldn’t think of another response, any other way to defend yourself. If he was saying it, then it really was the truth. You swallowed, about to bow your head and shuffle off of the set for good, but then, like a bird in your peripheral vision, you noticed someone standing in the corner.

It was Karasu, and he was muffling a laugh. When he noticed you were looking at him, he dropped his hand from in front of his mouth and jerked his head towards the director, mouthing something that looked suspiciously like get a load of this guy. Your eyes widened, and then you, too, were fighting back a giggle, because you were so tired of the entire charade and your feet hurt and you wanted to go home and sleep for a few hours but this director, this stupid fucking director, couldn’t make up his mind about what he wanted from you. And now your career was ruined and you’d go back to waiting tables and Karasu was standing there, which was ridiculous, because where had even come from? But, then again, did it matter? Because the most amazing thing of all was that he was laughing. The situation was horrible and he was laughing as if it was the most entertaining moment of his life.

“There!”

You cringed as the cameras went off in quick succession, but they were faster than you, and you knew for sure they had caught you before you had cowered away. The director stroked his chin, and then, to your surprise, clicked his tongue in approval.

“Well done,” he said. “That’s the kind of genuine appeal I was looking for. If you can bring more of that to the table, then anyone would be happy to have you.”

You frowned, his sudden switch in mood giving you whiplash. Only seconds earlier, he had been berating you, and now he was praising you? You couldn’t understand what had brought about the change, but you were at least quick enough to not question it. 

“Thank you,” you said. “I appreciate the advice. And the opportunity to work with you.”

“I’ll hire you again,” he said, which sounded as much like a threat as it did a promise. “We’ll bring it out of you. Now that I know what you’re capable of, I won’t rest until I’ve perfected it in the way only I can.”

The thought of being perfected by him, molded and shaped and honed, was the most unappealing you had had in a while. You could imagine him tugging your limbs out of their sockets, rearranging them at his leisure, slicing gashes into your skin so that his clothes and accessories sat better, smoother, without unappealing wrinkles or reflections marring their surfaces.

“Thank you,” you said once more. “It’s an honor.”

“Are you alright?” Yukimiya said when you wobbled over to where your shoes and clothes were strewn about. 

“I’m fine,” you said, but you weren’t looking at him. Your distracted eyes were following Karasu as he left the studio, your eyebrows knitting together as you tried to ascertain what the point of him even coming inside had been, if he was going to leave without you — without Yukimiya. 

He didn’t come for you, a voice in the back of your head, sounding eerily similar to the director’s, said. He came to pick up his roommate, just like he promised he would.

“I can’t believe he chose you as his favorite. Maybe you’ll be his muse for the next few years!” Yukimiya said. The director was known for picking one model to fixate on for an extended period of time. His every project revolved around them, and they were catapulted into unprecedented stardom under his guiding hand, staying there until their retirement. It was everyone’s dream, and you should’ve been happy at the prospect of being next in that line, but when you beamed at Yukimiya, it was fake, the muscles in your mouth straining at the unnatural position you were putting them into.

“Who knows?” you said. “I don’t want to rely on it. It’s not a guarantee.”

“Smart idea,” he said, scrunching up his face. “I’m sorry. I’m used to soccer more than all of this. Everyone’s very…full of themselves.”

“You’re not full of yourself,” you said, shutting the door of your dressing room behind you and calling through it as you changed, hoping to delay him even slightly.

“You’ve never seen me on the field,” he said. “There, everyone’s different. You have to be, if you want to live. Ego’s a form of survival out there.”

“Doesn’t sound much different than modeling,” you said.

“A little different,” he said. “People here are just vain. That’s not the same.”

You hadn’t ever gotten changed so quickly, but in record time, you were swinging your bag over your shoulder and rejoining Yukimiya, who seemed as surprised as you were that you had finished so quickly. After all, you had a bit of a reputation for…sulking? Brooding? You weren’t sure what word they were using for it nowadays, but regardless, your proclivity for sitting in your dressing room in silence was well-known, as much a part of your character as it was a habit. 

“You’re not wrong about that,” you said. “But vanity’s a necessary evil, I think. If you want to succeed.”

“Er, right,” he said, standing in place like he was unsure of how to react. “I suppose so.”

When you did not halt but instead kept moving towards the exit, he straightened and hurried after you. You weren’t going very fast, and his strides were so long that he caught up with you before you could even brace for the biting wind that rushed in as soon as you opened the door. The two of you went along in silence, Yukimiya obviously befuddled why you were still with him but too polite to say anything about it, and it was only when you reached the entrance to the parking garage, where a familiar car was waiting, that you allowed yourself to smile.

“Man, talk about an asshole,” Karasu said, stretching like a cat as he got out of the still-running sedan. “That director is a piece of work.”

“Karasu!” Yukimiya reprimanded, which got him nothing but a sly smile from the man in question. “He’s our boss. We can’t say stuff like that about him.”

“He’s your boss,” Karasu corrected. “So you can’t say stuff like that. I can say whatever I want.”

“You’re going to get me fired,” Yukimiya said. “It’s a good thing I have soccer to fall back on, or else I’d be in trouble.”

“Go sit in the car, then, if you want to stay blameless,” Karasu said.  

“I will! And you better not bother poor L/N. I don’t want her to have a bad opinion of all of us just because of you,” Yukimiya said, jabbing his finger at Karasu, who raised his hands in the air innocently.

Today, he wore a white windbreaker over a grey shirt, and because he was not wearing gloves, you could see that there were calluses on his palms, standing out pale at the seams of his fingers. You weren’t used to seeing calluses on anyone, not when the few people you met on a semi-regular basis took such diligent measures to prevent them, but now that you were faced with them sans demonization, you found their roughness was warm and friendly, not hideous.

“He was pretty bad,” you mumbled as soon as Yukimiya had shut himself away in the car. 

“Yuki, or the director?” Karasu said.

“Don’t be horrible,” you said. “You know who I’m talking about.”

“I can’t believe he compared you to a dead body,” Karasu said.

“That’s not the worst I’ve gotten,” you said. “It took me by surprise because things had been going so well until then, but he was relatively tame, all things considered.”

“Really?” Karasu said. 

“Yes,” you said, dropping your voice to a murmur in case anyone was around, not wanting to give yourself a reputation as a whiner. “Once, someone asked me if my mother was a fish, because there was no other explanation for how I was flopping around.”

“That’s rude,” he said.

“It was!” you said. No one had ever listened to you before, least of all with such a benign expression on their face, and you were so starved of it that you could not contain yourself any longer. “Especially because I was standing still, not flopping around or whatever. Honestly, I wanted to ask him if his mother was a fish, because you know what? There was no other explanation for how he smelled!”

“Horrid!” Karasu said, beaming at you. “You should’ve.”

“Oh, no, no, I couldn’t. I shouldn’t even have said it to you,” you said, shaking your head and pressing your hands over your mouth, unsure of any other method of stopping yourself that would be nearly as effective. 

“But you did,” he said, zipping up his jacket in a swift movement. “I’ll think of something about myself to tell you in return. Give me a day or two.”

“That’s not why I did that,” you protested. “And we don’t have a day or two, anyways, so you’ll have to do it now or never again.”

“Sure we do,” he said. “We live in the same city, don’t we? I bet our paths will cross. Where do you go grocery shopping?”

“Grocery shopping?” you said.

“Karasu! You’re low on gas!” Yukimiya said, rolling down his window. 

“I go to the place across from the park on South 18th Street. Every Thursday after practice,” Karasu said. “Meet all sorts of people there. Never know who I’m going to run into.”

You could picture exactly the store he was talking about; it wasn’t where you typically went, but sometimes, if you were running low on something hard to find, you’d walk the extra few blocks. It was much bigger than the one close to your apartment, after all, and suddenly you wondered if you had seen Karasu there before, if you had seen him ten or twenty times and just not noticed.

“When do you finish practice?” you said, right before he got into his car. 

“Lunchtime,” he said. “I’m hungry more often than not.”

“It’s not good to shop for food when you’re hungry,” you said.

“Then I’ll have to do something about it before I do,” he said. “Well, it depends. Only if I have good company.”

You didn’t realize until you were halfway home what he meant by that, and by then it was too late for you to change your mind — not that you would’ve. Not that you needed to. He wasn’t holding you to anything, even though you knew as well as he did that you would be there; still, ultimately it was your decision. Your choice. 

That was a strange characteristic of his, one that Yukimiya hadn’t mentioned. Karasu didn’t ask for things; he didn’t command them, either. He only made suggestions, nudging you along until you reached the destination that he wanted you to arrive at. You had never met a person quite so adept at it, at presenting choices and questions as disguises for inevitabilities, at guiding people’s thoughts so precisely. It would’ve been unsettling coming from anyone else, but from him, it was natural. It was how he operated. Who were you to chafe at it when that was simply who he was?

The grocery store was large, but they never changed their layout, so you knew where everything was familiarly and without checking the signs. You didn’t have anything to shop for, so you decided to wander the aisles, thinking that if something caught your eye, you’d buy it without further consideration.

You found yourself staring at a bag of oranges, a bright red 50% Off! sticker slapped right on the netted packaging. Swallowing, you reached for it, but before you could, someone snatched them away, holding them in the air teasingly.

“I thought you shouldn’t shop for food when you’re hungry,” Karasu said. “And might I add, what a coincidence it is, seeing you here!”

“I’m not hungry,” you said, taking the oranges back and holding them to your chest protectively. “And I wasn’t looking for you.”

“I didn’t say that you were,” he said. “I distinctly recall saying that it was a coincidence we even met, in fact. Anyways, maybe you’re not hungry, but I am, so I should be off. Meals to eat, shopping lists to plan…it’s a busy life I have.”

“Sounds mundane,” you said. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he said. “You’re right. That reminds me! Before I go, what is it that should I tell you?”

You couldn’t deny that that was the real reason for why you had come to the grocery store — what was he going to reveal? For as much as he knew about you, you knew frighteningly little about him, and now that you were faced with a chance to learn what kind of person he really was, you didn’t want to let it leave your grasp.

“Whatever you want,” you said. He plucked the oranges from your grasp again, and before you could complain, set them at the bottom of the small basket he held in his arms.

“How about this? I knew you were going to go for the oranges,” he said.

“How?” you said.

His eyes sparkled as he leaned closer to you, and you suddenly remembered Yukimiya’s warnings. Whatever you thought you knew about Karasu, it was likely only half or maybe a quarter the truth. Really, he was shifting and cunning, a fox and a crow, far from comprehension, not a danger but not kind, either.

“I’ll answer if you tell me something else about yourself,” he said.

“Why are you acting like I’m entering some kind of contract with a devil?” you said.

“I’m not a devil,” he said. “Just Karasu. My teammates think I’m a great guy, if the recommendation sets you at ease.”

“It sounds more like you’re trying to blackmail me,” you said. He shook his head.

“Couldn’t it be said that you’re doing the same? You’re asking questions about me and expecting that I answer when you have no intentions of reciprocating,” he said. 

You pouted, because when he put it like that, he wasn’t wrong, and it wasn’t that you didn’t trust him — because you did. You trusted him more than you should’ve, considering how guarded you had learned to become.

“I have an older brother,” you said. “He’s overseas right now. I don’t think he’ll be back for a while.”

“I have an older sister,” Karasu said. “Maybe they know each other.”

“Probably don’t,” you said. “Also, you didn’t answer my question.”

“I guess I didn’t,” he said, reaching around you to take two boxes of cereal off of a shelf. “Try again.”

“My parents didn’t want me to be a model,” you said. “They thought I should be a teacher. I’m good at it. Children like me.”

“I was going to go into investment banking,” he said. “Or consulting. One of those such fields. Maybe I still will, but soccer is fine for now.”

This was a game for him, you realized. Like tennis, but better, and so, instead of being irritated, you decided you might as well indulge it. It had been so long, anyways, since the last time you had spoken to someone freely, without concern for what they might spread about you, whose ears they would whisper your secrets in just to get one or two steps ahead.

“I threw a dress at a designer’s face once,” you said. “He didn’t like the shade of lipstick I was wearing, even though he was the one that picked it. The only reason my reputation wasn’t ruined was because he ended up liking the way the lipstick turned up digitally and promised not to say anything about it if I allowed them to use my photos after all.”

Karasu laughed, opening the doors to the fridge and taking out milk, stacking it neatly in the basket. You weren’t sure when the two of you had begun shopping in earnest, but it seemed he had forgotten about his plans to eat lunch. 

“In high school, my teammate pissed me off, so I made sure to shove him around extra when we tried out for a nearby youth team. It made him look so inept that he didn’t make the cut,” he said, taking an abandoned cart and depositing his things in it, motioning for you to put your purse in as well.

“That’s mean!” you said, but it was hard to disguise the fact that you, too, were laughing. “You’re mean.”

“His fault. He should’ve played better, anyways,” Karasu said. “I had been helping his sorry ass out for too long. He would’ve been cut regardless. You could say I just…expedited the process.”

“I’m the only one in my family who still wishes my brother happy birthday,” you said. “He’s a disappointment in everyone else’s eyes, but he lets me live with him and pays his share of the bills, so how can I disown him?”

“Between the two of us, my sister is the perfect one, so I’m afraid I can’t relate. Vanilla or hazelnut?” he said without skipping a beat. Before you could even answer, he face-palmed. “Oh, wait, Otoya hates hazelnut. I’ll get that so he doesn’t mistake it for his own.”

“I used to be a waitress,” you said. “Before I was a model. It was a lot less glamorous of a career. I don’t think my feet ever recovered from it.”

“I’m sure those shoes that you were forced into for your last job didn’t help any,” he said. “They looked inhumane.”

“They were,” you said, your ankles panging at the reminder, still inflamed and angry as they were. “Though I think anyone would’ve suffered with them on. I doubt the designer had human anatomy in mind when making them; I haven’t bled like that in a while.”

“They made you bleed?” he said. You hummed.

“Yeah,” you said, seeing no point in lying. Who would he tell? Who would even believe him? “Fashion over function, right? It was only for a few photos. They’ll be healed so quickly I’ll forget I had them in the first place. Enough about me, though. Tell me something else about yourself.”

“I sprained my wrist playing soccer as a kid,” he said. “It was a long time ago, but even now, I can feel it when it rains.”

He still hadn’t answered your original question, and you didn’t think he would, not until you offered him something of equal or greater value. But what did you have like that? What aspect of your silly life held enough weight that it would make someone like Karasu, always so ready with his wit and his charm, willing to part with something he clearly deemed to be a secret?

“I’m lonely,” you said, turning away from him, pretending to be fascinated with comparing two different brands of yogurt, neither of which you would buy. “You’ll laugh, but I think this is the longest conversation I’ve had with someone outside of work since my brother last came home. It’s nice, surprisingly. Talking to you and all. I like it.”

Or maybe you just liked him. You couldn’t really separate the two. Either way, it remained that ever since you had met Karasu, you could not conceive of a time when you had not known him, a time when you had gone home to your empty apartment and watched your empty shows and eaten your empty salads and thought you were satisfied by it all. You doubted he knew he had this effect, and you certainly wouldn’t be the one to tell him — after all, he’d probably be frightened if he found out that you had, in such a short time, grown so attached to him and his games and his conduct.

“The oranges,” he said. “You tried to buy them the first time I saw you.”

“What?” you said. Now it was his turn to avert his eyes and yours to watch him in fascination, finding it far easier to stomach a secret than to spit it out.

“It was a long time ago, but it was definitely you,” he said. “It was a Thursday, and I was just coming back from practice; this grocery store is far from my apartment but close enough to the field that, when Otoya — he was sick, so he had skipped that day — texted me that we were out of bread, I decided I’d make the detour. I wasn’t planning on staying here long, but right when I was about to leave, I saw you. You only had a packet of instant noodles and a bag of oranges in your hands. They were on sale back then, too, but—”

“But I had to put them back,” you finished for him, remembering that day as well as he did, albeit not his role. “Because I didn’t have enough money to get them, even when they were 50% off.”

“Yes,” he said. “I left before you noticed me, but I always — I always wish I hadn’t. I kept making the trip here, doing my shopping every Thursday at the same time until it became ingrained in me like routine, and I told myself if I ever saw you again, I’d buy them for you.”

“I can buy my own oranges now,” you said.

“I know,” he said. “That wasn’t the only reason I came back each week.”

“Why else?” you said.

“Well,” he said. “I can’t just tell you everything in one go like that, can I?”

You scoffed. “You can.”

“But I won’t,” he said.

“But you won’t,” you said with a sigh. “Anyways. So you knew me even before we met?”

“I knew of you,” he corrected you. “Though not as a model. Just as an absurdly beautiful girl I saw in a supermarket once and thought about occasionally.”

“So it was a coincidence that you happened to be at that shoot?” you said, raising an eyebrow at him.

“When Yukimiya told us about the girl he’d be working with, Otoya looked you up,” he said. “And despite how long it had been since you last crossed my mind as well as how much longer it had been since the only time I saw you in the flesh, I recognized you immediately.”

“You have a good memory,” you said.

“So I’ve been told,” he said. “I didn’t go with any strange intentions, if you’re wondering. I only wanted to know what kind of person you actually were.”

He wasn’t a typical admirer, taken with your celebrity or your status. He was curious, not about Y/N L/N the model, but you, the girl he nearly met in a grocery store so long ago it was all but inconsequential. You wondered what it said about you that instead of being wary, you only felt all the more inclined to reveal yourself to him. You wondered if this was some lack of self-preservation, as your brother would declare it, or if this was an innate knowledge, an instinctual understanding that the man before you was different.

Maybe he was or maybe he wasn’t. You didn’t know, and maybe, on some level, you didn’t care. Taking his hand, you set it on the bag of oranges, placing your own atop it firmly, your thumb tracing his scratched knuckles.

“Buy them for me,” you said. “And I’ll tell you who I am, plainly and without fuss.”

“Is that what you consider a good deal?” he said. “I’d say you’re a bit more valuable than a discount bag of oranges.”

“Do you think so?” you said. “Fine, then. The oranges, and a pack of instant noodles.”

“Closer,” he said. “But I’m a fair person. I can’t accept.”

“You,” you said, all in a rush. “The oranges, the noodles, and you. That’s my final offer. I’ll give you everything if you give me that much.”

He didn’t even pretend to consider it. You thought that it must’ve been what he was waiting for all along, what he had been, in that way of his, leading you towards.

“You’re a tough bargainer,” he said.

“So you agree to it?” you said.

“Sure,” he said, and when he noticed your face falling at the noncommittal nature of his acceptance, he laughed. “Yes. Yes, yes, I agree. The oranges, the noodles, and me; you can have all three as you please.”

And it was odd, but just for a moment, the reprieve lasting only for as long as his breathy chuckle, your feet ceased to ache.

[leviathanspain]

fucked my way up to the top

roman roy x reader

synopsis: the recent shroud of attention towards the roys lands a spotlight on you, causing you to question your marriage

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

the public didn’t favor you as a roy wife. you were labeled a gold digger, virtually nobody, a poison, a cancer. it didn’t matter that your own family was rich and prosperous. not as public as the roy family was, but respected in their industry.

you had grown up with roman, for a few brief summers at least. neighboring his summer home with your grandfather’s, you’d find yourself sneaking away at odd hours to visit the sullen boy.

after losing touch, you had reconnected with the youngest roy son at a business conference that you had accompanied your father to. he was impossible to shake off after, and soon you found yourself walking down the aisle.

but your relationship behind closed doors was extremely unconventional. in the year you’ve been married to roman, you never had sex. you came close once, on your wedding night, but nothing else since. you understood him the most, and his issues with intimacy. you’d wait around for him as long as he needed, because you loved him.

you loved him more than anyone else in his life, and he didn’t know why.

roman was still roman, in the best way he knew how to be. he’ll make inappropriate comments at you in professional settings, defending it with “she’s my wife!”, or sticking his hands down your pants whenever he got cold. you never really understood his methods, but it was affection nonetheless.

although you had a history with corporate america, you wouldn’t deny that your marriage to roman had sped up your career. only because roman has insisted that you work alongside him. it was either that or not work at all.

so the media, in the raging shit storm that kendall had started, had picked you and your marriage as the weakest link, attacking you in many headlines. twitter had been worse, causing you a mild headache for weeks.

roman had assured you’d that it would all blow over, that as long as you both knew the truth, that nothing else mattered.

but it did. everything mattered.

“hey ro-“ he had answered your call before the second ring. he sounded breathless, but you could hear the bustling office environment over the phone. there was the sound of leather, assuming he moved to sit.

you looked at yourself in the mirror, giving yourself one last look before walking over to the door, “i just wanted to call and remind you that i’m going out.”

roman made a noise over the phone, “ughhhh- that’s tonight?” he looked at his watch, checking the time, “right. that’s fine, yeah.”

“ro?” you asked, a smile on your face as you heard him hum in response. “i wasn’t asking if it was fine. remember what we talked about?”

roman sighed, rolling his eyes slightly as he leaned back in his chair, “that you’re my wife, not my property…”

you laughed, “when you put it like that it sounds awful. whatever roy, i’ll see you later.” he could hear the clicking of the apartment lock, you were already leaving.

“okay, bye bye now sweetie!” he mocked an elderly lady with his tone before hanging up quickly.

on nights you’d go out with friends, roman wouldn’t go home. he would eventually find his way home around two or three am, but only because you’d call to let him know you were going home. there was no point of being home if you weren’t there.

he had done it once, but there had been a pit in his stomach the entire time. as if he was doing something wrong.

he had heard the apartment door click, and his head turned from the random late night news channel to the door. you were standing there, wavering slightly as you stepped forward.

“baby-“ you slurred, and immediately roman stood up. he walked towards you, and a sheet of concern washed over his face. “i’m sorry baby, i know how much you hate it when i drink.” you grabbed onto roman’s shoulder, hand clutching him as you tried to steady yourself.

roman scoffed, “when did i say that?” his tone turned defensive, but mainly confused.

you shrugged, “i know you do.” you let go of him and stepped towards the couch, “you get in that mood.” you had meant to sit down, but you found yourself on your back instead. you closed your eyes, swallowing thickly, “you pull away.” roman scoffed again, “y/n, im right here.” his hand grazed your face as he leaned over you. he rested on the couch’s edge, but you couldn’t keep your eyes on him.

“no- it’s not like that. everytime i want to,” you faltered, and roman inhaled sharply, “it’s like you shut down. and we’ve danced around it for almost a year and-“ your words slurred slightly but roman had understood you perfectly.

“what do you want me to say? hmm? that i don’t want to fuck you?” he got off the couch and stood up, “do you want a divorce? is that it? since we didn’t fuck you can probably get a good deal out of that, you should go fucking try it!” roman didn’t know where this anger was coming from, but he felt it come out like word vomit. and he couldn’t stop.

tears escaped your eyes and you sniffled, feeling your face heat up with embarrassment. “no- i don’t want a divorce, roman.” you shook your head as you cried, wishing the couch could swallow you up.

roman continued to spit more words at you, but you cried harder. “i just want my husband to touch me! i want to be desired- to be loved!” you shouted, words overtaking his.

“i want you every minute of every day. i wake up with you on my mind, even when you’re asleep next to me i want you. i fucking want you, so bad.” his voice dropped and he stared down at you.

you shifted your eyes over to him, and tried to stand up. roman noticed what you were doing and took your hand, pulling you up.

“have me, roman. have me and never let me go.” your arms draped around his neck, pulling him into you. you leaned into him, and kissed him roughly. roman felt himself hitch a breath before pulling away.

“i cant.” your hands dropped from his collar and you stared, speechless. “i want to, y/n. but i-“

you pushed past him, not letting him finish as you tried to stumble towards the door. “you’re a fucking coward.” you slurred, tears muddling your vision. you fumbled for the door handle, “i never want to see you again! you hear me! i hate you!” you stomped a foot as you struggled more for the door. “fuck!” you cried out, feeling defeat and heartbreak wash over you in an instant.

this feeling was crippling. closing your eyes as you slid down in defeat. you couldn’t fight anymore, you didn’t have it in you. your husband didn’t stay to linger, slipping away quietly.

the separation was taking its toll. it was starting to get noticeable to those around you. you had wished for space from roman, who had hesitated but obliged. his only request was that his family doesn’t know, and so far, they hadn’t.

but little things, questions regarding the other had raised a few flags. kendall had asked about you once, bringing up the question to roman on your whereabouts. roman had lied and said he had just seen you in your office, but kendall knew you weren’t even in the building. or when shiv had texted you to ask if you’d be joining the family to scotland, but you had to play off your absence with a separate work trip. when in reality you had no idea that roman would even leave the country.

shiv knew something was off. she was finding roman more intolerable by the day. he was more disheveled, prone to outbursts, constantly on the defensive, and it definitely had to do with you. you were his happy little pill.

as much as you wanted to keep the secret, roman made it difficult. he rarely ever saw you anymore, and he would often exclude you from meetings regarding family or work. you didn’t mind at first, until it started affecting your work. you’d have to talk to him about it, eventually.

logan had called for a meeting in his office. usually big meetings with all of the roys and close workers meant bad things. typically you’d stay out of these things and find out from roman. but you had no roman to come home to anymore, and you’d have to learn how to fight for yourself sooner rather than later.

you were the third one to arrive. kendall was already perched beside his father. you admired kendall for his ability to resurrect himself and crawl back under his father’s thumb. you respected him, but not lately. greg and tom were also in the room. their little duo was dangerous, you’ve warned roman to watch out for them.

“y/n!” tom stood up from his seat, awkwardly hugging you. you stiffened in his arms and pulled back with an awkward smile, “tom. didn’t know we did that!” your eyes slid to logan and kendall, who seemed as equally as surprised by your presence.

“sir.” you looked at your father-in-law, who’s eyes shone at you, “y/n. what a delightful surprise.” he kept his tone even, but you still smiled nonetheless.

kendall had his wits about him, for once. “what changed?” he squinted his eyes at you and you laughed slightly, “it’s nice to see you too, ken.”

just as you turned, you heard a whistle at the door, “where is everyone? you said at 11:30 right?” roman looked down at his watch before looking up, eyes settling on your face.

you hadn’t expected to see him so face to face, for the first time in weeks. he looked away slightly, cracking another irrelevant joke before walking over to a chair.

he didn’t even greet you, and that didn’t go unnoticed by everyone else. more and more flooded in, and you couldn’t stop the pounding feeling in your head even as the conversation began.

“roman!”

logan’s shout had broken you out of your daze. you blinked, eyes narrowing on the clock as you realized thirty minutes had passed. you had missed most of the meeting, and seemingly caught the end. but this wasn’t just any end, this was logan handing your husband his own ass.

you listened to roman get chewed out. you weren’t in the loop to roman’s work, and you felt lost.

logan’s insults turned into abuse. you felt your mouth go dry as you stood up, words spilling out of your mouth in roman’s defense.

you didn’t know what you had done until it was done. you were locked in a stare with logan, who was in disbelief at your outburst. you felt you face heat up and you inhaled sharply. logan didn’t say anything, but kendall had waved his hands, “alright. let’s just- end it here.” he shifted his gaze over to you but you didn’t meet his eyes.

roman stared at you, from across the room in his chair. you blinked, words faltering as you stared at him.

you didn’t bother apologizing as you excused yourself, practically running down the hall to shut yourself away.

there was a soft knock at your door. roman. it had to be roman. you felt your chest heavy with pressure as you stood up, walking over to your door. you unlocked it, but hesitated as you pulled it open.

“yes?” you peeked out, beads of sweat lining your forehead. your eyes met his and roman stared at you, “let me in.” he nodded to the door and you hitched a breath, opening the door as you stepped back.

“ro-“ without another word you threw yourself into his arms. he grabbed you tightly, reciprocating your need for affection.

“i’m so sorry.” you choked out, “i’m so fucking sorry.” you knew logan had a difficult relationship with his son, and this didn’t help any of it. logan must hate you now.

roman shook his head, “fuck that. fuck that old ass guy. it’s okay, you-“ he pulled back and you felt his lips on your cheek, “you know i would’ve done that for you.”

you hugged him tightly, and hoped this warmth would last.

[v-i-r-i-d-i-a-n]

Everytime I open a jrwi episode it’s a gamble on what I’m gonna be hearing and seeing

“You’re It” Episode 91, quotes and reactions

Bizly;”Charlie would make a great sim”

Ollie;”Damnit! I mean- dang it!…Darn it? SHIT!”

Gillion *in the most serious tone imaginable*;”No tag backs.”

Ollie;”Gillion what the fuck! I mean heck!”

Chip and Gillion in a barrel Chip and Gillion in a barrel- damn nvm mechanics stop it

Condi;”Jay disappears”

Bizly;”Now hang on 🤨”

THERES TWO GILLIONS AND NEITHER ARE ACTUALLY GILLION GIGGLING

Ollie;”It’s coming. I’m safe.”

GOOBLECK CAMEO <33333

Ughhhh propaganda propaganda blablabla

Gillion;”thats that girl that attacked us, what happened?”

Chip;”We handled it.”

Gillion;”..bet.”

Chip;”Bet.”

Charlie;���Underage people cannot commit crimes in the world of riptide, which is a cool little world building fact.”

Gillion;”This is Queen, he can’t finish”

Gillion;”Falsetto? Is that what that is? I don’t know, I can only tell the truth. I only have a truesetto”

ONE PIECE REFERENCESSSSS

Gillion;”I’m sorry if it made you sad that I piledrived a cat through an entire city at 300 MPH :((. He started it >:(“

JAY STRUGGLING WITH HER PART AND PLACE IN THE WAR AND NOT WANTING TO HAVE HER FAMILY LOOK AT HER WITH DISGUST AND NOT WANTING TO HURT THEM AND WAAAAAAAAAGHHHH MY BBG

Chip;”Yk what they say, an eye for an eye”

Jay;”And the world goes blind?”

Chip;”…just forget the last part :DD”

YESSS DONT LET HER WALK AWAY ‼️‼️

God I love all of their dynamics so much albatrio I love you so much

Gillion;”If I were you I don’t think I could’ve answered her either..” AWWWGGHHSHDHDKDJXJD

Earl;”BOOHOO, BUNCHA BITCHIN ASS KIDS. OH MY GAWD, IM DROWNING IN ANGST. BOOHOO”

Gillion;”I am the consequence I am the consequence.”

Fake caspian noises I love him HES A SIM

Fake Caspian;”Hakuna matata bitch.”

I feel like this little journal Ollie gave Chip is gonna emotional devastate me

Ollie;”I’m gonna kick you in the nuts” “I’m gonna burst the lump”

Chip;”You shouldn’t remember things like that!”

Ollie;”I remember everything I’m an impressionable 12 year old.”

Jay;”Great googly moogly! Kira!”

NIGHTMARE TIMEEEE

Gillion’s mom;“Eggs.”

“I’ll..be..back” IS FUCKING TERRIFYING

ALSO DREAM EDEN NOOOOOOO

Chip;”I see that shit every day in the mirror”

Jay;”You want breakfast..?”

Gillion;”……what are we having.”

Chip;”IM MAKING EGGGSSSS”

Gillion;”….WAKEUPWAKEUPWAKEUPWAKEUPWAKEUPWAKEUPWAKEUPWAKEUP”

Chip;”…he taken all the eggs :00”

Jay;”I think we need a therapist as our next crew member”

Chip:”It’s so early to be scary”

Gillion;”I think it’s pretty fucking late to be scary.”

Gillion;”I thought I’d make it more then a day before having to show these puppies off” *black oozing scars on his chest*

WEED CIRCLE WEED CIRCLE WEED CIRCLE

Charlie;”you fail the weed check and you die”

Literally any of their high quotes are fucking amazing

Chip *high as balls*;It’s your destiny to fuck that thing up dude”

Chip;”You’re Gillion, mother fucking, titty sucking Tidestrider”

Gillion;”How’d you know my middle name? 😦”

[ofaatuu]

Similar

Ronal x Tonowari x poly!reader

part 4! Part 1 here, part 2 here, part 3 here.

it’s been so long I’m so sorry guys I got super duper busy with work, but I’m back! Words spoken in blue is spoken in Navi. And words in this is basically you talking to yourself.

You heard norm and max bickering over some bs while you were eating your breakfast when you get a call from Jake. “this is Y/n speaking, what’s up Jake?” You say answering the call, “hey y/n are you guys checking up on Kiri today?” You sigh “not sure why what’s goin on?” “She said she’s been having some weird dreams lately and I was wondering if norm and max can come check up on her.” “Got it, bye.”

“Normmmm, Maxxxxx.” You say while walking the halls of the lab, you enter a room and see them standing next to your avatar. “What Y/n.” “Jake wants a checkup, sayin Kiris having some weird dreams.” you mumble out while cleaning the inside of your nails, “alright we’ll get ready we’re heading over soon.

You wake up and find yourself in your avatar. As you head over to your beloved aircraft you see norm and max loading equipment in and offer to help. “Yeah actually thanks, can you go grab the rest of the stuff in the lab room?” “Got it.” You run to grab it and run back. As you’re setting the stuff in the aircraft your stomach starts to bubble with nerves, you haven’t seen Ronal or Tonowari in a few weeks and it’s nerve wrecking seeing them again. Ronals big yellow eyes.. Her thick course hair, don’t get me started on Tonowaris hair, you think about his big ass arms and beautiful tattoo work on them. Just like yours, when you were 18 you decided you wanted a tribal tattoo just like your father and got it as soon as you could. After thinking and snapping out of your haze, you jumped into the front pilot seat and asked the two nerds if they were ready, they replied yes and you started the aircraft named “Mahina”, by you of course and took off.

As soon as you got their multiple navis gathered, still very interested in the aircraft after seeing it multiple times. You unloaded things for Norm and Max set it into Jake and Neytiris mauri. You felt the same set of burning eyes on the back of your head, but didn’t look back yet. “Hey guys, how’s everything?” You ask trying to make conversation because it’s too quiet.. “good, what about you Y/n?” Jake replied seeing what you’re trying to do and giving into it. “Could be better.” like sleeping..

You then turn around and see Ronal. You smile nervously at her, just like how you did when you first ever met her. You walk over and greet her, “Hello Ronal, how are you?” You say trying not to make eye contact with her big ass eyes.. kind of hard to do, “Demon, it’s been long, where have you been? How’s that big cut on your shoulder? Have you been growing your hair? Are you staying the night here at the reef again? “Do you wish to sleep in our mauri?” Your eyes widen as you’re bombarded with so many questions, “woah slow down tsahik, yes it’s been awhile. Yes I’m staying here for awhile, me and my partners need to stay for kiri due to her dreams being a long-lasting test their running. And I am growing out my hair thank you for noticing.” She notices your gaze is focused on her nose and not her eyes. “Demon is something wrong? Why will you not look me in the eye?” “It’s nothing Ronal, how’s Tonowari and your children?” “Their fine, come to my mauri let me look your gash.” As you’re walking to her mauri you start sweating, this is so nerve wrecking and you don’t know why. As your getting checked you hiss due to her pressing on the gash, which turned into a scar very quick. “The paste worked. I told you it works on everyone.” you continue to talk to her as you hear the mauri flap being opened by no other than Tonowari, “Hello syulang.” great another reason to sweat even more.

translations; Mahina; Moon, Syulang; flower

ughhhh it’s been so long since I wrote, sorry if this was rusty. tag list! @sakuuo @zoexme @ellabellabus07 @yeosxxx @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @ratchetprime211 @musictheatrenerd16 @unicornicopia1 @manumanulau @belos-simp69 @weepingwhitchofthewest

[dartlekey]

Keep it casual (Part 4)

(I’ll be posting this on ao3 once it’s done, if you want you can check out my other works until then!)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 5

Steve doesn't like it when Eddie looks at himself in the mirror. 

Or rather, he doesn't like it when Eddie does it with this expression. It's been happening a lot, ever since he finally got the last of his bandages off - the doctor said the scars would fade with time, but there's a lot of tissue to fade, and Eddie's unhappiness is clear in the line between his brows and the pinched set of his mouth.

Steve gets up off the bed to stand behind him. His own scars are more hidden than Eddie's, but just as warped and plentiful - while his latest injuries were less severe, he's been dealing with the Upside Down so much longer than Eddie, and that adds up. "Put on a shirt," he gently tells Eddie, "you'll get cold."

Eddie relaxes marginally, and leans back until his shoulder blades bump into Steve's chest. Steve's arms come up automatically to wrap around his waist, and Eddie smiles teasingly. "Don't need to, when I have you to keep me warm."

Steve huffs, pretending to be annoyed, and presses his face into Eddie's shoulder. At this point, they're dating in everything but word, but they keep dancing along that line, stopping just shy of admitting how much they mean to each other, pulling back every time they're just about to kiss. It's like a little game between them, a dare of who's going to make the first move, and Steve will be damned if he's going to lose. "Come back to bed."

Eddie shivers at the words, but his eyes remain stubbornly fixed on the scars winding down his torso. "Don't wanna."

Steve considers picking him up and manhandling him onto the worn mattress, but then he has an idea. "Alright. Wanna get matching tattoos instead?"

Eddie blinks, and his eyes find Steve's in the mirror. "Are you serious?"

"One of Lilly's friends has a tattoo gun," Steve smiles, and Eddie scrunches up his nose. "You want me to get tattooed by a punk?" 

"Unless you want me to give you a stick-and-poke."

"Ughhhh, fine," Eddie groans, "curse your shaky hands."

Steve drags his fingers up the sides of Eddie's ribs, eliciting a sharp inhale. "You like my shaky hands."

"No comment," Eddie says a bit breathlessly, and pushes him away to look for a shirt.

They find the punks at their usual spot behind the old theater, and Robin too, who launches out of Lilly's lap to greet Steve with a squeal and an enthusiastic hug. 

"So this is your Eddie," Lilly says, giving Eddie a curious once-over, and Steve flushes. "He's not my Eddie," he grumbles, but Eddie immediately steps up between him and Robin with a, "hm, I don't know about that."

As the other punks laugh, and Steve attempts to regain access to his higher brain functions, Eddie continues blithely, "he said one of you had a tattoo gun?"

"Yeah, Theo does," Lilly says, gesturing with her head towards a kid littered with stick-and-pokes, who gives a small wave with a bandaged hand, "they recently busted their knuckles, though. I can do it instead if you want."

Eddie's answering smile is sharp and closed-off. "I'd just like the gun, if it's all the same to you. I'm quite capable of taking care of Steve myself."

A little bit more prepared this time, Steve notes with some confusion that Eddie's never been this forward before, or this aggressive. Lilly seems to share the same confusion, before her eyes suddenly widen and she says, "Shit, are you jealous, man? Because I can promise you there's nothing going on there. I'm a lesbian, and besides, I'm with Robin."

Eddie's stance relaxes instantly. "Sorry. I just had to be sure - those two share damn near everything, and with how much he's been talking about you lately…"

"Ew," Robin says beside him, and punches his shoulder, which just makes him laugh - Steve, on the other hand, is so overwhelmed that he has to wrap his arms around Eddie again, clinging to him like a five-year-old after a nightmare. "You can't just say shit like that," he complains hoarsely, and Eddie chuckles, eyes crinkling as he shoots Steve that teasing smile he likes to think is reserved just for him. 

"Make me stop, then," Eddie challenges, just because he knows Steve won't. 

They end up tattooing each other, Eddie showing Steve how to hold the gun, how to get (mostly) clean lines. The cartoon bat Steve draws next to the scar on his right side still turns out somewhat wobbly, but Eddie reassures him that it's just as perfect as the one Eddie put next to Steve's left bat scar.

It's wonderful, seeing the little critters through the cling wrap, turning something gruesome and horrible into something comedic and silly. Eddie's bat is right on the edge of his scar, curled around it with bulging eyes like it's biting into Eddie's side, while Steve's is a bit farther away, doing a little dance with a guitar around its neck.

"You know what the best thing is about this tattoo?", Eddie says, giddy and relaxed as he marvels at the new addition. "If we hug like this," he says, and bumps their waists together, "the bats are giving each other a little high five."

Steve stares at Eddie for exactly five seconds. Then, he says, "I'm so in fucking love with you," and kisses Eddie so hard they both nearly fall off the old couch they're perched on.

If you want to be on the tag list or I forgot to tag you, please reach out in the comments!

Tag list: @corrodedcoughin, @heartrenderharrington, @spookednsaucy, @elyondelannoy, @dilutedpondwater, @ediewentmissing, @fandomz-brainrot, @didntwant2come, @this-is-moony-lovegood, @idontgetpaidenoughforthisshit, @thinkinginnoisesandcolours, @anonymousbandgirl, @f1ct1onwh0re, @babygirlstevesstuff, @eboyawstenn, @tailsfromthecrypt, @messrs-weasley, @estrellami-1, @newtstabber, @shrimply-a-menace, @hey-rowan, @m-owo-n, @darkwitchoferie,  @iwouldsail,  @escapingthereality, @hotluncheddie, @lovelylilbadone, @korixae, @certified--catboy, @s-a-d-isfied, @fruity-nerd ,  @stevesbipanic, @5ammi90, @evix-syne666, @nerdsconquerall, @maya-custodios-dionach, @bisexualdisastersworld, @fantrash, @nelotegreitic, @redfreckledwolf, @plasticcrotches

[young-royals-confessions]

Hello hello, it's anon from the flight! And how lovely it's this fandom that I got a moniker from an anon confession? I've read the messages and checked the reblogs and wow! I seriously didn't expect for my unhinged message to be this welcomed since I'm three years too late to this beautiful show! With this beautiful people and thank you so much to everyone who recommended me to listen to the Simon-not-actually-made-by-AI actor. AND SINGER! BEAUTIFUL AND TALENTED. I'm still in disbelief he's real, like Omar Rudberg is so pretty AND has such a nice voice??? AND HE'S GORGEOUS and he's a great actor and UGH THE CHEMISTRY. With who I now know iis called Edvin and now I feel the need to see them acting next to eachother forever and ever, so much chemistry can't be wasted!! (looking at Netflix. I'm still so crossed I missed out of this beauty for three years wtf Netflix)

SO I binge watched the second season, patience isn't my name, and WHAT THE FUCK. Was not prepared for that rollercoaster. I gotta be honest, I almost stopped watching and went to sleep halfway through the season like ugh I fucking hate that Marcus dude, sure in the end I understand why he was a necessary evil for the plot but I fucking hate love triangles. I was a teenage girl during the height of love triangles in tv shows, I hate them. But I hate August the most. I think of his face and feel enraged.

BUUUUUUUUUUT UGHHHH. THE LOVE BETWEEN SIMON AND WILLE. That overpowered everything. Seriously, how am I supposed to be functional after being a witness to their valentine's ball kiss? And Simon's song? (Which I have been obbsessively listening on repeat WTF I understand nothing but I can feel FEEL the meaning on my bones. This beautiful dude's voice wtf. I can understand Wille's obsession, I'm practically obsessed too now wtf)

AND THE END OHMYGOD. A BALM FOR MY SOUL. I was kind of hoping to get heartbroken AGAin for shit and giggles but noooo, I got the best ending and I'm trying to not be too spoiler-ey since I'm sure I'm not the only human being living in this planet called Earth who's unaware the most perfect TV show exists and it's called Young Royals and beautiful people are in it to everyone taste no matter your sexual orientation (like hello Felice too!)(still shocked Omar Rudberg is a real person and not generated by artificial intelligence, maybe I'll be convinced after some proper sleep time, but for now he's too beautiful to be real. Not even exaggerating and I'm really good at that okay!)

I'm still processing the second season, I took a nap after I finished but I'm still tired since I cried and laughed and was left with the biggest smile in my face (and I also was in an 8 hour flight!) and then went to youtube and saw a clip from season 3 AND OMFG THESE TWO DUDES ARE TOO PRETTY FOR WORDS. Happiness and love look wonderful in Wille, like the literal heart eyes he's delivering there? That's how I feel when I see Simon too. Relatable character is relatable. What can I say about Simon without sounding crazy except I need to protect him at all costs??

I don't know what else to say except THANK YOU for reading me and thank you to everyone who has been nice to me in the comments even when I'm still anon, it means the world to me. I hope I'll be more coherent after eight hours of sleep and I won't be too embarrassed reading my own message tomorrow lmao and I don't know how I'm going to survive until 2024 for season 3, I'm sitting here taking notes for that too! I already know the answer it's fanfics so I'll be checking AO3 but also analysis? Meta? how are you guys for real? I was expecting a teenage fandom with just vibes but I guess I was wrong. And I love it. As much as I love the show and Simon and Wille's relationship and I gotta be honest, Omar Rudberg's face and voice. UGH.

Thank you so much for reading me again and for everyone who has left messages for me, I'll freak out more once I get some proper sleep!

Thank you and I'm sorry again XOXO

YAY thanks for coming back!! 💜💜💜

[yourjughead]

The Past

Sweet Pea X Reader

A/N: In my world Fangs is not dead. I don't know if this makes sense with the canon of the show. it is what it is. Much love.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sweet Pea jogged through the streets of the South Side, mind racing about following Josie to New York or not. The 11pm  jog a result of another fight about futures between the two. Sweet Peas legs burned as he pushed through, enjoying the pain and believing he deserves it. The rain glowed in the street lights, the centre of the Southside almost deserted, all busy taking advantage of the late night and the cover of  rain to get business done. 

Finally deciding he'd had enough he checked his phone to find a missed call from a private number. Not unusual for a high ranking Serpent he thought, locking the phone again, tucking it into his pocket and beginning to jog again, crashing directly into the door of a taxi. 

“Fucking hell!” He gripped the top of the window with his hands before placing a hand on his chest. You swung your legs out of the taxi starting to apologise, the words catching in your throat at the sight of him. 

“Sweet Pea” 

“YN…YLN” 

You took the door from his grip closing it behind you, the taxi immediately relocking it's doors and taking off back into the streets. The dying light of the last remaining Southside motel flickering light up both your profiles. 

“Emm you're looking well Sweets…Sweet Pea” the red flush from his jog was gone from his face growing pale at the sight of a ghost and a nickname not spoken in almost 4 years, back to senior year. 

“Thank- what are you doing here YN?” tones of confused sadness left Sweet Pea, the anger towards you he felt so many years ago unable to be conjured back at will. 

“I have business with…it doesn't really matter who. I wasn't expecting to see you, it's only a flying visit”

“I suppose you're good at that” you looked away briefly to shield some of the pain of that dig before looking back, exhaling and trying to nodd to him. The rain had began to soak you both down to your skin but neither of you moved.

“I…I'm sorry about how we left…how I left it…I know that's not enough… I don't know how to fix it” it came out of you in a jumble.

“If you had an umbrella that might make a start” he half smiled at you easing some tension, used to playing that role in your life. Your phone ringing cut through the air between you. 

“I have to take this Sweets….Sweet Pea” he nodded in understanding as you swiped to answer the phone while turning from him. 

“Yeah- Yeah - I'm here now - whatevers necessary - Yeah - For how long?! - But - Yeah fine” you looked back around and found a puddle where Sweet Pea once stood, having run back off into the night.

Sweet Pea POV

After my encounter with the ghost I met with my friends at the Wyrm. I needed a drink...or a bull tranquiliser.

“She what?!” Toni chipped the ball over the side of the pool table in shock as told them of my encounter.

“She tried to apologise” 

“Ughhhh” Toni took her shot and Jughead watched from the booth, typing away.

The bar was abuzz with talks of yn. She was the name on everybody's lips, a few people even saying I made it up.

“She should just go back to where she came from” Toni growled.

“Isn't she doing that by being here” Toni looked at Fangs like she was trying to explode his head with her mind.  

“There's no way she'll last the weekend, she'll get wind of all of the gossip about her and bolt” Fangs sunk a ball in the corner pocket.

“Yeah she's good at that” Toni missing a sure bet. It was clear Yn was running laps around her mind, she was in everyone else's. 

“Do you think she'll go to FPs birthday party”

“I'm not sure fangs, I wouldn't think so” I sunk another ball. 

“That'd be pretty ballsy” he sunk two

“Yeah but then again that sounds like yn” Toni chipped another ball over the side receiving teasing from fangs and I. She's usually much better than this, she's clearly very bothered.

The ball rolled along the bar floor and stopped dead under the sole of a boot. Yns boot. She stood, hands in her pockets, confidently surveying the bar. You could hear a pin drop, it was like a scene from an old wild Western. She laughed lightly before kicking the ball back in our direction and strutting towards the bar, there wasn't an eye in the house not on her. Fangs mouth hung open, Toni stood straight with pursed lips and a mixture of hate and pain in her eyes. Jughead was the only one to make noise, busily typing away. Yns eyes dragged around the room, staying a little longer on me than anyone else...or maybe I was imagining that.  The sound of her boots off the wooden worn floor echoed throughout, she sauntered up the back the stairs, pushing a strand of hair over her shoulder. I hate how i want to be the one to do that again. I hate how she can still command a rooms attention without a word. I hate how i don't hate her. She reached the back office door, looking over her shoulders before ducking inside. The bar buzzed back to life. 

“How dare she walk in here!!!” Toni was turning red, fangs looked more confused but not as much as Jughead did.

“So that's yn? Why is she such a big deal?”

“She nearly killed Sweet Pea” 

~

[novaae]

Very fascinated by Bumi ii/Tarrlok and Bumi ii/Zhao (Fog of Lost Souls) as ships ngl 👀

Like for Bumi ii/Tarrlok in which Tarrlok and Noatok survived the crash and Tarrlok tries to live under a new guise despite what had happened only for Bumi ii to come swooping into his life. Or like for Bumi ii/Zhao, Bumi ii being the one to just drag Zhao’s sorry lame ass outta that fog and helping to reintegrate him into the new world that had long since moved on from the war.

Hi hello!

First of all, my sincerest apologies for answering late. I have no excuses.

And now, onto the ask. I'll be honest I do not think Bumi would have any sympathy towards Zhao to help him move on and get better.

Bumi understands that Zhao grew up in an era of propaganda and war, but knowing that there existed people like Piandao and Iroh, who despite being FN understood the harm it had done on their own; and knowing that Zhao had been to Wan Shi Tong and had the opportunity to knowing the truth, Bumi would... simply not like him, in the mildest terms possible. Them being romantic is a bit far-fetched as well.

But! That's just my opinion, and considering how Zhao's only real purpose was to have an actual evil guy to set up Zuko's redemption arc early, a good writer could definitely careen me into a more complex Zhao dating Bumi.

-

And Bumi and Tarrlok ughhhh where do I even start. I just recently published a modern au smutfic of them too. I actually had a fic in mind that I probably will never write, I do have a tentative starting to that fic online too.

Bumi x Tarrlok makes me insane in ways I cannot explain properly. They're both so oddly similar... Both geniuses in their fields (Tarrlok can bloodbend without the full moon, Bumi is a non-bending commander in a world that shows time and time again how undervalued non-benders are), both of them ignored for the other sibling, both with an increasingly complex relationship with their father and brother, and both of them clearly have mental issues.

I like to imagine them as people who could have maybeeee had a better life had they not fallen in love with each other, but they'd rather have a worse shot at life together than a better shot at it alone.

Being with Bumi brings Tarrlok closer to the people he hurt and to his memories of bloodbending, and to Republic City; being with Tarrlok brings Bumi closer to the man who bloodbent his brother, had a hand in the curfew thingie of S1, and is just... fundamentally a man I think Bumi would be uncomfortable with, if it wasn't Tarrlok after everything bad been taken away from him.

(Also on a completely unrelated note please tell me you agree that Tarrlok has something going with uniforms and shit, like I need this man to be a whore for this guy who's a solid twenty years older AT LEAST and was in the army and is buffer and taller than him)

[hotchs-big-hands]

i just had the cutest AH/TG dream last night 🤭 he was a little insecure and didn’t want to put his full weight on me and he was like “babe what if I hurt you?” 🥺 I assured him it was okay and I wanted to feel all of him so he laid down on top of me and I felt the full force of his body and ughhhh I want to go back!!!!!

Omg hiiiii anon sorry I’m answering this late but omg that’s so 🥺 i think having Aaron lay on you would just be so soothing, hes a broad man and i think he rly would be unsure abt doing so at first. But if you’re encouraging and sweet to him he’ll oblige and instantly seeing the content on your face reassures him. You look SO cosy snuggled under him and you wrap your limbs around him like a koala 🥺 he won’t be so afraid to just collapse onto you after a long day after this.

[n3kogorez]

OK OK UMM. What's your favorite thing about each of your f/os (you can do as many as you want :3) sowwy if someone already asked this before and im unoriginal

aaa sorry I'm answering this so late okay okay here we go

venti has the most amazing voice ever, he's almost always singing and i just love it. his voice is addicting i swear, it's so soothing ♡

xiao is so overprotective and ughhhh it's amazing. the look he gives people when he catches them staring at me for a little too long is so so so ughhhhh ♡

misa convinces me to let her do my hair every morning and i pretend i hate it but I love it. she's so gentle and it always looks amazing. she loves helping me get dressed up all pretty, especially when I'm not feeling up to doing it myself ♡

haymitch gives the best hugs. he's so strong and it feels so nice when he crushes me in his arms. it's amazing and I could live so happily in his arms ♡

valentino's regular talking voice is like music to my ears I eat up everything he says just because he's saying it. i could listen to him talk for HOURS ♡

mori is literally the grumpy to my sunshine. he gets me so many gifts because he's bad at verbalising his feelings but he always gets the best gifts ♡

lucius has the softest and most gorgeous hair ever and he let's me brush it and tie it up and braid it for him i love playing with his hair ♡

morgan is so flirty and open about his feelings for me and it makes me feel so loved and I love that everyone knows how he feels about me ♡

[cruesuffix]

idk if it's 2025 already where you are, but Happy New Year!!!

for your consideration: polycrue new years kisses 👀🙏 (that vision just hit me like a truck lol)

could either be a happy and fun thing, like celebrating another successful year of making awesome music together and entertaining the masses all around the world in the 80s

orrrrrr mixed feelings for everyone reminiscing about happier new years celebrations, and all the kisses they shared, before they booted Mick and how the first nye without him there feels off :'3 (can you tell I want them to suffer and feel bad for kicking Mick out? haha)

---

anyway I'm so glad I started following and talking to you in 2024 and I hope I get to read many more of your headcanons and ramblings on here <333

ROBIN!!! HAPPY NEW YEARSSSS<3333 (idc that it’s not even 10pm yet over here i gotta wish you an amazing and wonderful new year NOW!!!) btw im soooooo sorry im answering so late!! idk why i didn’t see the notification until now ughhhhhh, either way!! i hope you have an amazing new years and let it be even better than 2024!!

ok ok onto the hc!! 80’s crue all drunk/high celebrating the new year and maybe once the ball drops they all have a nice sloppy make out session to ring in the new year?? like, if they’re all alone together they don’t have to worry about ppl watching them. it’s just the four of them together, sharing the moment together and just celebrating all their accomplishments that year. all i can think about is just the boys cuddled together on a bed in a hotel just petting and kissing each other and then falling asleep in one nice little crue ball together once the ball drops. OR, if they’re at a party they physically can’t stay away from each other for too long. they try to keep it lowkey with the hugs but as soon as the ball drops they’re all pulling each other for a big crue hug, maybe discreetly kissing each others cheeks.

but ughhhh i love modern day crue trying to relive that passion and fun but coming short. like they can all feel that elephant in the room and the tension from it just cuts the momentum. maybe… they try to get 5 involved, but so severely not the same they still manage to accidentally call him mick (you think practically a year together would make them get their act together but….). they start off by just latching onto each other and kissing like old times but… it’s just off. they’d probably just end up reminiscing about their time with mick… how he was actually a pretty good kisser (nikki), how his hugs were so comforting (tommy) and how his presence was just overall comforting (vince)… of course if john was still there he’d just awkwardly nod and maybe ask a question or two and just make all the boys spiral into more regret. AUGHHHH!!!! angsty little bastards. by the time the ball drops they’re heading back to their own hotel rooms, disappointed that things are the same anymore and desperately wanting their old man back.

sorry john… maybe one day you’ll be invited to the polycrue! (still, i will be thinking of both of these scenarios with so much fervour!!!)

anyways… ROBINNNN im so happy we’re mutuals!!!! here’s to a new year with more insane ramblings and headcanons of my favourite boys and their evil little ways!!!! can’t wait to share even more little blurbs and headcanons with you!! <3333

[sungbeam]

he is psycho 🤭🥰🫶🏻💖 ughh you're right- he's so villain coded but he'd be so cute as one- like a megamind of sorts bhebhea (i preface this by saying i rarely know anything about superheros/villains my ex-best friend was just into dc comics so bare min. knowledge... i would sign up for your collab otherwise 😔🫶🏻) hehehe~ I agree there isn't but it's okay~ It's no problem!!! Thank you sm for writing it!!! Ooooh you have ?? I love this sm- bhebhebha I totally understand- once the image is there~ you gotta go after it~

aww yeah~ ofc!! they're fake maknae & maknae bhebhebha OMG so we have hannie wrecker in common now~ but omg- i love your wrecker line sm- they're straight chaos (vernon is neutral bc he's 🙂😐🤨 but sometimes!!) but omg that makes you almost a full booseoksoon biaser!! 🥺🫶🏻 that's so cute! Your first bias was wonu!?!? I love that sm!! He's so sweet!!

(i'm cutting this into two asks bc it's just way too long- feel free to answer in one~)

KATE I WILL BE APOLOGIZING THOROUGHLY AS ALWAYS IM SORRY i hope u had a lovely holiday :')))

omg but no cuz i think jun would both be super cute but also like... so sexy as a villain 😭 like his duality is insane; he's kinda like changmin in that way skfndkjf idk if u know those specific pics of him w glasses and slightly longer brown hair but he's sooooo *faints* wait lemme go get them—

UGHHHH THESE ONES HE'S SO DELECTABLE AND LIKE ITS GIVING UNDERESTIMATED NERD WHO TURNS OUT TO BE KINDA INSANE.... anyways...

yes u encapsulated vernon's vibe so well w those emojis 😭😭😭 i had my friends over for a little xmas get together and we made keychains, and one of them made ice bear ones (from we bare bears) and it made me think of vernon 🤧😔💔 YESYES I AGREE WONU IS SOOO SWEET EEE!!! like ik people headcanon him as kinda cold, but he's so giggly and dorky plsss skfnkdnfjf

NO CUZ IT WAS A CRAZY ERA AND JACOB LITERALLY GOT DETHRONED 😭😭😭 i still have memes and screenshots it was so— OOOHH omg so u stan got7 🤭 r u excited for their comeback soon???

TASTE SOLIDARITY!!!! OMG BAHAHHAHA SO EXCITED TO HEAR ABT URS AND KEBBI'S HISTORY I LOVE LORE

ahhhh whisper era was so iconic (i say this abt every era), but it was def cobies purple hair for me heh :'))) RAAAH BABYDOLL RABBIT HOLE SO FKN REAL!!!!!! THEIR NO DIGGITY STAGE WAS ALSO SO FKN GOOD SKFNJDND like ooooowwwwh 😭😭😭 what if i melted,,, GASP STOP I LITERALLY THINK THAT WAY ABT CERTAIN IDOLS TOO HAHAHAH like i have so many friends who bias juyo so im like "that man's taken" and same for like sunwoo 😭 but it's so funny to know that happened w u and kebbi + younghoon!!!

omg the chanhee bias wreckage is me w kevin and hyunjae 😭 like they remind me at the worst times that they're so desirable skcnskfnjf LIKE WHY R WE BEING SEDUCED RN??? rip hoon 💔 u were good to kate 💔

ahhh i don't really listen to pentagon unfortunately but i ofc love their banger 'shine' !!! :')) and my bias for enha is currently heeseung and jungwon!!! (rip jake, u were a real one 💔) and what abt u for enha? i think i saw u reblog my jay fic..? tbh jay has been hitting different lately too... AND OH JAY AND SVT JUN BEING LIKE THE HYUNG/DONGSAENG DUO FITS SO WELL IF U BIAS JAY HAHA

BYE YES UR RIGHT 😭 I WAS LITERALLY IN LOVE W THE RIGHT GUY AND THEN FLIPPED FOR MY POLAR OPPOSITE 😭😭😭 BUT THE HEART WANTS WHAT IT WANTS... 💔 sorry king... 💔💔 idek how it happened or when it started, but it was too late when i finally realized what was happening TT UGHHHH YES THE STICKY COVER WAS SO..... i don't usually watch tiktoks more than once but i have to be so honest... that one def got watched at least five times 😭😭😭😭

[fanfiction4sooya]

Ahhh first of all congrats on another milestone 💖💖 that's so exciting I'm really happy for you 🥰

I'm a little late but I've been on holiday (needed that so badly) and omg I met the prettiest girl here and we've been talking a lot and last night we made out !!! For what felt like hours and ughhhh I'm seeing her again tonight and I'm so nervous 😭 I'm kind of awkward with these things, I don't really have a lot of experience but my friends that came with me are super supportive 🥹 I don't wanna jinx it but I was so excited to tell you let's see how it goes 🥰

I too have been sucked into a kiss of life spiral MY GIRL NATTY SHE DESERVES EVERYTHING AHH sometimes I just sit and sigh and think wow... I really love women lol

Hope you're doing great ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

- 🍒

Cherry anon, darling! I'm so sorry I've been away for so long, I didn't even respond to you. I truly apologize, sweetie. ❤️‍🩹

Thank you so much for being so kind and for being happy for me 🥹🥹

GIRL TELL US EVERYTHING PLEASE!! how did things go? Look at you all cute getting all the girls, you amazing little thing (I feel like a proud mama 😭)

And yep, kiss of life just do it for me... And yeah, I totally understand the thought of "damn I really love women" lmaoo

I'm doing great not baby, I hope you are doing great too! (And again... My apologies for not answering before going all absent father on ya 🥹

Love you 💖💖💖💖

[gracexgalaxy]

Work has been a veritable shit show lately. I’m tired. Last week was by far one of the the worst.

I’m going to quit and look for a new job soon, but then I worry about paying for my apartment.

Half the benefit of this job was working from home. They took that away from me as a punishment for “being too slow at my job”, but I’m slow because what they based that on was a new skill I just learned? I mean, quite literally the data this is based on is from the work study my boss did the same week I trained to do this skill. The work study started that Monday, and I trained that Tuesday/Wednesday.

Obviously I’m slower than the people doing it for years. The last person hired before me on our team to do this skill was my best friend, who was hired 7 years ago.

So either my boss has no idea how people work/learn/grow, or she’s just trying to get me to quit, or fire me.

Last week she told me she was going to have asset protection look at footage of me and the times I leave my desk based on when I clock out for lunch. Why? Because my punches “don’t match up with my away times” and when she asked why, I told her the honest answer: I put my food in the microwave right before I clock out (it takes 5ish minutes to cook/cool), and after I toss it in I go back to work until it’s done. Occasionally I do go to the bathroom, but 9/10 times I finish up something at my desk.

Also. I’m not paid to take notes. Me studying my job is “not justifiable to be on paid time”, even though in our meeting with HR, the HR person said it was a good idea, because this whole issue is that I’m not learning the job. I explained that I learn by writing things down, but she doesn’t believe me.

So I guess I’ll just continue to suck 🤷🏼‍♀️

Oh and she’s moving my desk just to be petty. If she thinks that will make things better she is 110% wrong. She’s “worried about distractions”. Okay well moving me 10ft and across the aisle will not stop distractions. If you’re serious, put me in a cubicle away from the (very lovely but very loud) accounting department. We both know there’s one available. Your boss mentioned it to you. You just don’t want to look bad in front of him.

Ughhhh sorry for the little rant. I’m just so put out with this place I can’t anymore. My work ethic is down the toilet because I’m so constantly stressed and angry at my manager. And the worst part is? I like my job. It’s quite literally just her I have an issue with.