#thank you for sending it and being so sweet

[jiminrings]

mature

pairing: jungkook x reader

wordcount: 8k

glimpse: the good thing about professing your feelings to jungkook is that it'd be over with, whether or not he likes you back — the bad thing is that he rejects you, even if you haven't confessed.

alternatively, crushing on jungkook who's in your friend group is, has, and will never be a good idea.

[ push n pull fic YIPPPEEEEE, fluff, angst, So Much Yearning, friends to lovers trope, jealousy, dunking on a stewpid jk (as one does), arguments that kinda hit home, redemption!! ]

notes: WE R SO BACK!!!! thank u for waiting 🫂🤍

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

You will never tell Jungkook how desperately you want to be loved.

In your defense (much to Jungkook’s offence), you want to be loved as desperately as he acts on an everyday basis. He’s not pathetic in the sense that he’s hopeless, but rather pathetic in the light that you want the entirety of him (stubbornness and occasional dimness included) to rub off on you.

You want to be loved pathetically in the same way that Jungkook never computes his expenses when it comes to self-indulgence yet always calculates when it comes to actual requirements. You want to be loved as wholly by the guy who can get by one DIY dorm dinner at a time by asking for scraps from the whole floor with a grin and his hands cupped in begging.

Jungkook’s one of your friends, if not the best you’ve ever had, and it’s a miracle that you haven’t jumped at each and every available chance to confess your growing feelings for him.

You bit your tongue that one time he bought you "one of those silly blind boxes you like" on a whim from a bookstore he only went inside to in the first place because he was dying outside in the heat, only to open it for you with your eyes closed and earn you an extra rare figure.

You had to physically restrain yourself (read: clasp your hands together in front of you) when Jungkook made you swap your counterfeit, barely-holding-on kitten heels for his trustworthy slides on the way home because your research presentation prior had you pacing nervously.

Every time that he gives you your tax of whatever he ordered (which always ends up being the best variant that your friend group could possibly order for a meal or a sweet treat), you have to etch into your head clearly, with ballpoint pen, that you will never tell Jungkook how desperately you want him to love you.

Every time that he gives you a one-on-one friend outing, just as he does with everyone else from your circle of ten people and counting (you lost count because you figure that all of you are about to outgrow the long table in the library that nobody else could fill), you convince yourself to never tell him how much you want it to be just you.

You figure that you’ll tell Jungkook that you do hold a candle for him, despite not detailing the extent, in this lifetime— maybe even the next time you get a moment alone with him, but you figure you won’t do it now; now, when he’s berating you for just a tiny sacrifice you made that’s minuscule for everything he does for you and everyone else.

“You’re impossible!” he huffs, his annoyance for you being loud enough to stop his faux display of studying and gather attention from everyone else in the library who actually is. Jungkook holds up his phone for you to read, brows scrunched at your look of amusement. “Jimin told me you were lactose intolerant!”

You can’t figure how and why Jungkook and Jimin’s conversation even flitted towards you when you recall clearly that the lactose-filled meal in question was from two weeks ago. You don’t question it because you already know that even giving it a second thought would already be too pompous of you, and you don’t question either why Jungkook looks too devastated at the realization.

“I just tolerated it,” you snort, burying your nose back into your notes, missing the flash of regret in Jungkook’s features.

He doesn’t know whether he’d feel more sorry over the fact that he didn’t know you were lactose intolerant, or that you didn’t speak up at all to preserve his excitement over eating at the restaurant he wanted to try out.

“But why would you?” he sulks, completely foregoing the textbook he has opened on the same page for the last hour.

You know exactly why you did, but you’d rather not tell Jungkook now. 

You’ll tell him some other time, that much you’re sure of, but not now — not now when he’s too devastated over your tummy issues, and not now when he’s just one revelation away from chewing you out over something he has to learn from someone else.

“Your broke ass bought it so I had to,” you murmur, rolling your eyes as you rest your chin on the palm of your hand.

“Foul,” Jungkook immediately chuckles, shaking his head at your retort even if he knows you’re just kidding around (he knows you won’t hurt him like that that), finally opening his laptop.

Jungkook, your friend, finally types on his laptop, yet it’s not for the contribution that he badly needs to put in for a group project.

Instead, he opens up the Google Doc and writes in a bullet point underneath your name, the words do not give cheese acquainted with three exclamation points — along with your name, is the names of your mutual friends and Jungkook’s observations that would come in handy for an outing, a gift, or both.

Jungkook’s that good of a friend, and that’s why you’ll never tell him how desperately you want to be loved by him.

( ♡ ) 

Getting gifts for someone who has a credit card and has no inhibitions when it comes to buying whatever they want is a difficult task.

Getting Jungkook for Secret Santa this year is even harder than the last, and that was when Jin snuck five strips of his name and left more than five of you (you don’t even know how that happened) without gifts, all while he was laughing to himself after he successfully gaslit everyone into thinking that they were all drunk and made the mistake themselves.

You don’t know what to give Jungkook that he doesn’t already have. He doesn’t have a girlfriend the last time you checked and while you can’t exactly wrap yourself in ugly, recycled kraft paper (as opposed to Jimin’s dumb, all-knowing-about-your-hidden-feelings suggestion), you’d rather not drive Jungkook away, even if you don’t know either how to drive him in.

You don’t have the slightest clue to what his ‘surprise me ;)’ scribble underneath his name means and it makes you feel guilty, far more than he ever could have after Jimin’s revelation of your dietary restrictions. 

It’s not the dilemma of who would sit next to who in the large albeit crowded dining table in the cabin that you rented out, nor is it the cooking and wrapping duties that each of you are tasked with that stresses you out this holiday season.

You wish so badly that the largest champagne problem you have at the moment was wondering if your Christmas gift for your nitpicky mom and nonchalant dad back at home arrived in time. You pray that your biggest hurdle is either convincing Namjoon that his room is just cold and not haunted, or breaking off a fight between Eunwoo and Soomin because they keep fighting over whose overpriced film camera will be used for the picture by the tree, or even talking Mingyu down from smacking Jin in his sleep.

The largest champagne problem that you have, even if it’s actually between life and living said life in peace without minding your inevitable heartbreak, is worrying about Jungkook’s gift.

You hold your breath as soon as Hoseok gathers everyone into the living room, your nerves probably getting the best of you because you hear Jungkook hollering to whoever’s closest to the thermostat to adjust it because your teeth kept chattering.

You have nothing to be nervous about, you convince yourself as Jungkook steps up into the middle and awaits with wide arms, your best friend being another victim of assuming that the comically large wrapped present is his (it’s not).

Jungkook doesn’t have any expectations for you to meet, you convince yourself as he becomes even more hyper when he learns that it’s you, so much so that he takes a lap around the backyard with his hands clapping furiously.

You can’t love Jungkook any more than you do now, you realize as you see Jungkook throw his head back in glee when he opens up your gift.

It’s only a Himalayan salt lamp. It’s only a lamp that you didn’t buy for so much. It’s only a thing that Jungkook said to you in passing one time, yet he’s beyond grateful — enough for him to carry you in his arms and take another lap around the backyard.

“God, you love me soooo bad,” he lulls, teasing you mercilessly as he unceremoniously drops you so he could adore the lamp up close. “I always wanted to lick one!”

“You’re so stupid,” you mutter, rolling your eyes at his excitement over something so simple; something so insignificant in the world of thoughtful, expensive gifts.

You affectionately think that Jungkook’s stupid, yet you can’t tear your eyes away from him.

“I didn’t hear a no,” Jungkook hums with his tongue out, eyes wide and flickering between you and the lamp. “Should I do it? Should I? I’m doing-…!”

You put a spoonful of cake into his mouth instead, the whine that escapes his throat still sounding like gratefulness to your ears.

Tonight’s not the night wherein you tell Jungkook how badly you want to be loved by him — not when he’s so preoccupied with his new salt lamp that he keeps daring people to take a lick of, not when he’s the one who’s being convinced that there’s a ghost in Namjoon's room and being bullied into sleeping in.

Not when Jungkook’s being the perfect, lovable friend that he is during the holidays and every other day.

( ♡ ) 

You’re well-aware that Jungkook’s a catch.

You know that he’s a catch and he’ll never live it down, and neither can you.

You’re very painfully aware that Jungkook’s a catch because you’re reminded of it every single day whenever you’re with your friends. You know that atleast two of them were integrated into the group in the first place because they liked Jungkook, and that doesn’t really bother you (more than it should, atleast) anymore. 

Sora’s crush formed out of boredom on Jungkook disappeared as soon as she got a boyfriend, but you understand why her gaze lingered on him in the first place.

Eunji’s crush on Jungkook already dissipated the moment she learned about his GPA, but you get why she had been attracted to his charm anyway.

You know that he’s a catch and that he’s not solely yours either, and the latter makes you humble.

“There’s flowers on your desk again,” you point out, the arrangement irking you for more reasons than one. “Why do you have to be so popular and handsome.. and lovable,” you mumble, the tail end of your mini rant barely being heard by Jungkook because he's too busy admiring his gift.

“What’s that now?” Jin piped up, eyebrows furrowed upon picking up your angry muttering. He's beyond confused, maybe just as much as you are, when you just snarl at him for his unintentional use of supersonic hearing.

“And why do I have to sit next to you even if I have allergies,” you redirect your attention to Jungkook who has to sweep the flowers to a beaten-up paper bag for safekeeping, the item in his backpack being the most used object for all of the admiration towards him.

“Because you’re the best-est friend ever,” he rolls his eyes, the faux pout on his lips surprisingly softening you instead of the opposite. “And maybe I’m the worst-est one to keep putting you through this.”

“You sound so stupid,” you reply automatically, crossing your arms and keeping them there. “But you’re right,” you exhale through your nose, conceding your defeat over willingly letting him put you through this, carrying the blame by yourself.

Jungkook doesn’t only act like this with you anyway. There’s no special treatment, there’s no false hopes being promised — it’s just you genuinely happening to fall for him.

“Come on, just tolerate it! Pinch your nose or something!”

“Why should I? Find another seatmate,” you sulk, making a point to angle your back away from him and towards Jin who’s at your right, doing his best at holding in a laugh over how ridiculous the both of you look.

“Obviously you’re the one with the latest phone so you have to take pictures of me with the flowers!” Jungkook whines, punctuating his sentence with a hand on his hip. He’s sulking because you’re sulking, and you’ve never hated him more at the moment. “Why else would I force you to sit with me?”

Jungkook’s stupid, and so are you, so you’d rather not tell him how desperately you want to be loved by him today.

( ♡ ) 

In all fairness, you thought you would lose nothing.

You thought you would lose nothing because in the first place, you barely expected anything out of Jungkook. Liking him didn’t mean that you were indebted to him, and liking you back isn’t something that he owed to you either.

You weren’t expecting Jungkook to fall on his knees and say something stupid to hint at his mutual love for you (although you did think about it a couple of times), but you atleast expected a little bit of respect from him to try and see the strength it took you to even confess.

You planned it perfectly, even taking a page off his book and making a whole word document for it wherein you spent days typing whatever crossed your mind throughout the day and erasing what seemed the most impossible throughout the night. 

In your word document, you and Jungkook would be out in the snow, skating in an outdoor rink even if neither of you know how to. You figure that you won’t attempt to drag (read: hobble with) him to the middle of the ice because in case he doesn’t like you back, the waddle back to the exit wouldn’t be as awkward; if Jungkook does like you back, you’ll still be hobbling to the exit, albeit happily.

In your word document, there’s a spine of a script that you would say when the day comes. You’ll skim along the lines of how you’ve never been so enamored with someone in your entire life (with the internal note that you’ll dial it back a bit if his expression turns sour), of how bright he makes your days for you, and how he doesn’t have to be obligated to like you back.

In your word document, you’re set. You’ve planned a foolproof blueprint of what would turn out, whether or not Jungkook is set on loving you the way you desperately want to be —

Except now, Jungkook completely undoes everything you’ve ever worked for.

Now, he looks at you with a glint in his eye that looks more apologetic than it is endearing. You don’t even know what led to your heartbreak exactly because one minute, you were just studying, and by the next, Jungkook’s already letting you down even if you hadn’t had the chance to rise.

You swear on your life that you weren’t giving any signals at all that you were actually about to confess. You were only silent, refusing to talk to him because you were too stressed over your task and that you were scared you would burst into tears if you tried mouthing the formula out loud, yet Jungkook mistakes it for your love.

Whatever you do on a daily basis, whatever you do based on your nature, Jungkook mistakes it for a confession that he wasn’t even supposed to hear until the end of the week.

He wasn’t wrong about the fact that you love him — what he’s wrong about is his assumption that your silence around him when it’s just the two of you, right now while you lose your mind over an assignment as you’re dressed in last week’s sweater and last semester’s horror, is your confession.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” Jungkook winces, gently patting you on the shoulder as you’re yet to digest his rejection. “But I just don’t think we’ll work out.”

( ♡ ) 

You theorized that getting over Jungkook would be fairly easy on the chance that he rejects you after your confession.

You figure that Jungkook himself as a concept would be drastically difficult to move on from because he was just so lovable. He doesn’t know how to read a room and it’s one of his better quirks when you’re worrying over nothing. He doesn’t know much about knowing when to let up, and it comes in clutch when he’s pushing you to wholeheartedly do an assignment even if you’re already burnt out from crying.

Jungkook, as a concept, is indestructible. He’s the everyday variant of the goodness that some frat guys possess occasionally. He’s the realistic, attainable version of a main lead in a manhwa that’s only perfect 1/4 into the plot. 

He’s the manifestation of every good deed a stranger has done for you, except he’s someone you know with your heart and not just someone you could sketch from memory. 

With that, you also figured that moving on from Jungkook can’t be that hard because he was too out of reach despite being in the same friend group as you. Surely, it wouldn’t be so catastrophically hard to move on from a guy who just gasps for air every five minutes when he’s in charge of cooking in the BBQ hangout (instead of using the exhaust like a normal person), or from a guy who thinks citing references for a paper is only a suggestion.

The funny thing about it all is that you never actually confessed to Jungkook.

Actually (and contrary to the assumptions of the other friends you have from your circle), you’ve never said it to his face that you do have a crush on him. You’re ultimately known to be the friendliest person to ever walk the campus, and while not the most confrontational, they atleast expected for you to confess to Jungkook in your own way.

What actually happened was that Jungkook read through you — he does happen to be right about your feelings for him! He’s the second friendliest person right beneath you, and so the way he rejected you should never sting this much.

Jungkook thought it out meticulously. He read into the way you spent extra attention listening to him with your eyes practically gleaming. He read into the way you’d lag back behind him and hold him by his wrist whenever you were all crossing the street. Hell, he even read into the way you would take a shot at opening the extremely tight water bottle from the vending machine before everyone else.

The funny, tragic thing about it is that whilst Jungkook wasn’t wrong about pinpointing your feelings for him — you never confessed.

Jeon Jungkook, the second, ultimate friendliest man that your university has ever known, rejected you without even hearing the actual words from you.

He’s turned his back on you even before you could reach him, and the realization sinks in you unsettlingly. You never expected for him to like you back because it would be unfair of you, and you knew that; what just happened to hurt you most was that Jungkook didn’t even think twice.

He hadn’t given you the chance to pour your heart out at the very least.

He hadn’t even given you the space to breathe right after the rejection, because he skips and puts a smile on before winking, telling you that he’ll never speak of it again because you must probably be embarrassed.

The funniest thing about it all is that you aren’t embarrassed — you’re actually devastated about it.

It’s an odd event for Jungkook to feel lonely because with such a big friend group, he never thought he’d feel a little empty despite literally rubbing elbows in a circular table. He never thought he’d come to be a little annoyed at Jimin and his routine, playful, borderline offensive banter he’d always have with you at the top of the morning, and he never thought he’d even be more annoyed over the absence of it.

There’s one less laugh in the circle. One less bag strewn underneath the table, one less coffee order written on the notes app, and one less person to look for when hanging out.

You’re missing from the friend group, and oddly enough, Jungkook seems to be the most devastated about it.

“Why is Y/N not here?” he asks in the middle of Jin retelling his drunken fishing story, grabbing the attention of everyone in the table and maybe just about everyone else’s in the common area with the way his voice is frantic. “And why is she there with the new kid instead?”

Everyone flits through separate conversations after Jungkook’s interruption, some even wincing to themselves because although they know about your admiration for the guy and not your confession-that-wasn’t-one, they figure that nothing good could come out of Jungkook sucker-punching the new kid in his head.

“I don’t know, man. Buddy system, maybe?” Jin shrugs, stealing his food because it was obvious that Jungkook’s attention is everywhere but himself and the table.

Jungkook snorts, crossing his arms tightly to the point that even he feels a little suffocated. His entire face is crumpled with hurt, eyebrows furrowed out of frustration when you still aren’t looking at him; when you’re still not looking at him with confusion in your eyes, silently telling him off for glaring.

“Buddy system? We’re in uni. Who the fuck would bully that guy?”

“By the looks of it, probably you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he huffs, refusing to unclench his fists on his thighs.

“Well, what’s it to you that Y/N’s hanging out with someone new? What are you so heated for?” Jin elaborates, eyes flitting to you again.

Jungkook could only glare at you.

“What are you so nosy for?” he asks defensively, leaning back on his chair in a faux display of relaxation when all he wants to do is to remove the stupid smile on the guy’s face as he watches you talk.

Unlike Jungkook, Yoongi’s not stupid at all — in fact, he’s been vigilantly aware of Jungkook’s glare on the side of his face ever since you sat in front of him.

Yoongi’s not stupid, so he angles himself in a way that Jungkook gets to see him more. He doesn’t know the guy personally, but he does know of him and his “charm” that seems to make everyone go nuts for him. 

If looks could kill, then Yoongi would’ve already had mourners at his feet, but if provocation could posion, then Jungkook would already be frothing at the mouth.

The thing is, Yoongi doesn’t even know about your admiration nor your foiled confession to Jungkook. The latter hasn’t even done anything personally to him. 

All he knows is that you’re in a big friend group and that you chose to sit with him, your friend whom you share a couple of advanced classes with but not a friend-friend like Jungkook is, and that you’re very easy on the eyes and admirable yourself if he thinks about it (he doesn’t need much time to ponder over it) — and, that he doesn’t really like being glared at.

“No really, I insist!” he laughs, pulling out his handwritten reviewer from a backpack with a grin. “I don’t know anybody else who likes making reviewers anymore by hand, so really, you’re just perfect to get them.”

“But you worked so hard on them,” you gasp, eyes already widening in both surprise and awe at the thick stack of papers in front of you. Yoongi’s handwriting and formatting are perfect; there’s no unnecessary calligraphy, the vividness of the highlighter is just right, and there’s even sticky notes at the bottom for additional details and references you could cross-check. “I.. I don’t want you to feel that I’m taking advantage-…”

“But I offered! You didn’t ask for reviewers from me shamelessly like every other opportunist does,” Yoongi laughs, throwing his head back as he slides the papers closer to you. “I’d be a really shitty senior not to give you any help. If anything, I think you deserve even better than-…”

Jungkook can’t resist.

Jungkook can’t take any more of watching you and Yoongi push and pull over whatever topic he can’t hear nor force Jin to eavesdrop on. He can’t take another second of seeing you be so happy talking to a guy that he doesn’t know, so much so that he comes up to you without a second thought.

“Hey,” he greets, his body only turned to you, completely ignoring Yoongi and blocking him off from your sight. “You didn’t order any coffee.”

You angle your body slightly to excuse yourself, except Jungkook conveniently happens to mirror your every move, confusing you even more. “Oh, I wasn’t feeling like it,” you trail, looking up at him in confusion while Yoongi could see right through him.

“Really?” Jungkook replies, the smile on his face being far from amused, eyes narrowed as he tries to catch up with the own annoyance that he harbors. “Because I’m seeing two coffees right now, and one’s in front of you, so…” he trails, shrugging his shoulders exaggeratedly.

Jungkook’s jaw is still clenched, along with his fists by his sides. He’s standing tall between you and Yoongi with his shoulders squared and his face steeled, the immovable forces that are him and the unnamed pit in his stomach starting to garner attention.

Namjoon has his phone out. 

Hoseok only has one cheek remaining on the seat because he’s ready to stand up and collect bets. 

You’re still sitting, mostly confused, when you realize the attention that’s starting to build towards the three of you.

“Yes, Jungkook. Great observation,” you snicker, the discreet roll of your eyes making him take offense.

“Oh okay, I see. So you were lying by saying that you weren’t feeling it, and I don’t get the hold-up of you-…”

“What did you come here for now, Jungkook?” you angrily whisper, keeping your head down as you retain your gaze on him and lightly tap at the table to indicate to Yoongi for the both of you to move. “It’s a little far-fetched for you to come all over here to pick a fight about coffee.”

Jungkook huffs, turning his head back to Yoongi behind him because he most definitely saw your signal. The lazy, amused gaze of Yoongi is what sets him off even further, the anger in his eyes unmistakable, except you recognize it for only what it is and not jealousy, because Jungkook doesn’t see you like that.

Or atleast that’s what the both of you assume.

Jungkook, your best friend, scoffs loudly.

“You sound so defensive right now.”

( ♡ ) 

You don’t respond much to Jungkook’s calls. 

As a matter of fact, you don’t respond much to Jungkook at all.

You don’t show up whenever he’s present, meaning that you’re only magically available whenever there’s half of your friend group at the most because if there’s more, then the search for the missing members would ensue, then you’d end up squished in a long table next to Jungkook again.

It’s very much like him to form grudges, yet he can’t even tell if he’s capable of having one towards you. Jungkook, with all his chest and afflictions, wants so badly to hate you because you’ve been blowing him off ever since he literally and physically came between you and Yoongi.

He apologized to you for that (and not to Yoongi because he didn’t really matter to him at all), and he doesn’t know the answer for it yet because his messages still remain unread. He’s enlisted the help of your mutual friends on various occasions by trying to get them to give all his little treats for you, yet you refuse them as soon as you catch wind that it’s from Jungkook.

He even tried studying for real in the library in hopes that reverse psychology (he thinks that’s what it’s called) would work and that thinking he doesn’t want you to come would make you do the opposite, yet it still doesn’t work. Jungkook’s already mad that he studied for nothing (he’s more interested in getting you to notice him than to actually learn), but he becomes even more heated to realize that your anger for him is just directed at him alone.

You still talk to your best friends, with the exception of him, and Jungkook has never been more envious of people who are apparently of the same status as him.

Jungkook wants you to drag him like you drag Sora to the nail salon and have you whisper at his ear to tell the nail tech not to cut your cuticles because you’ve been afraid of getting them done since that 1/34th part of a medical drama episode you watched on your phone.

Jungkook wants you to complain to him like you complain to Namjoon when you’re frustrated with a professor whom you’re convinced is only critical to you and no one else, later making him promise not to tell anyone else from your friend group because they like said professor.

Jungkook wants you to run to him as you always did, just because you feel like it. He wants to sit in silence with you again and put his hand on your knee when you’re in the verge of tears just looking at your schedule for the week.

He wants to stand guard again outside the bathroom door of the expensive coffee shop because it’s either the lock is broken or because Namjoon's managed to instill in you the existence of ghosts in cold spots.

He wants to be the Jungkook like you’ve always known, again, because it seems like you’ve forgotten him completely. You have the Yoongi now, it seems like — the smarter, more composed, and more charismatic variant of him that he wants to get rid of because Jungkook never predicted the existence of him.

Even more, Jungkook didn’t even entertain the concept of him being replaced because it was always the two of you together, even in a sea of friends. 

He’s your best friend, your confidant even, but nothing more — all Jungkook feels is that he’s even less than the status the both of you are assigned to be. 

He’s angry and sad and disappointed all at the same time because he thought he had almost lost you since he rejected your confession. You were fine; you were as fine as you could be for someone rejected when it comes to yearning to be his, and yet the moment you let Yoongi in, Jungkook feels as if you threw everything the both of you had just for him.

“Just so you know, student-teacher relationships are illegal,” he corners you one morning in your dorm, two godforsaken weeks after chasing you around the campus yet turning up empty.

“What the fuck are you on about?” you immediately scrunch your nose at him, the accusation he throws at you being too farfetched to the point that you don’t even think of shutting the door at him, ignoring Eunji’s betrayal for you by pretending to come over.

“What am I on about?” Jungkook exasperates, the scoff that leaves him making you feel small in front of him. “You’re literally the one who’s getting chummy with fucking Yoongi of all people!"

"Yoongi's a teaching assistant! He's our senior! Do you not know that?"

"Do I look like I'm interested in any other people outside of our circle?" he retorts, lips turned up in a snarl. Jungkook provokes you with a sarcastic glare, the look on his face enough to make you throw your head back in irritation.

"Come on, even Jin and Jimin are friends with Yoongi and-..."

"This is not about them!" 

"But you just-..." you stop as soon Jungkook interrupts you, losing your gaze on him for a single second to close your door and when you look back, you find that he’s already comfortable being vindictive on your bed, his arms crossed and his back straight.

"Also, teacher and teaching assistant both have the word teach so it's literally still illegal," he narrows his eyes sarcastically, the tone to his voice unclear despite his words suggesting otherwise. "You look so stupid right now."

"Jungkook can you stop?!" you burst, your temples stinging at the back and forth that Jungkook’s thrown the both of you in. “What the hell is going on with you?"

Jungkook had sworn to himself up and down that he has so much stuff to pick with you. He knows he has so much baggage to unpack and how much shit he has to bring up, even if it’s only been two weeks with you. He’s partly relieved that you’re in front of him and you still haven’t fled, yet a large part of him is beyond frustrated with you because you don’t even look like as if your time apart has taken a toll on you.

Between the two of you, it’s only Jungkook who looks like his distraught has manned him completely beyond surrender. Even coming to see you by hatching a plan with a hesitant friend is something he considers an act beyond surrender — whatever the space is between surrender and demand is where Jungkook lies with you.

"No, what's going on with you!” he argues, standing to his feet to come face-to-face with you. “You can't just spin this around when I've done nothing but be a good friend to you!"

"You think I'm not being a good friend to you just because I don't spend every single minute attached to you? I can still hang out outside of our friend group without being-..."

"This is not about our friend group!" Jungkook emphasizes once again, the tell-tale sting of tears behind his eyes coming up because he feels as if you can’t hear him no matter how much he repeats himself. ”This is about us and how you abandoned me ever since I rejected you!"

"I didn't abandon you, Jungkook!" you spit, pushing at his chest lightly with your finger to get him to back up from your face yet he refuses to. He’s still insistent at staring you down with his jaw clenched, eyes wide and unblinking because he knows that if he moves even just a millimeter askew, he’d cry. “You didn't even give me the chance to confess to you! You rejected me without even hearing me out. Do you think I would still be able to talk to you, face to face like how you want so badly, as if nothing happened?"

"The answer would've been the same even if you confessed,” he grits with his chest heavy, not at the way he keeps holding his breath in order not to break down in front of you, but because you look at him with so much disdain that it makes him want to puke.

"Do you not think I know that?" you laugh humorlessly, gnawing on your bottom lip as you don’t drop his gaze. “Do you think I didn't prepare for that possibility? I knew what could've happened if I confessed and I'd still be okay with it, Jungkook!" you raise your voice, throat already giving out at the slightest pressure because you know you lost the fight ever since you let him in. ”What I'm not okay with is that you didn't even give me the chance.”

It’s evil, really, with the way no amount of self-pity could ever pull you from the grave you’ve dug up. You went for Jungkook, carrying all grief you knew you were bound to feel, and yet you still feel unprepared. You still feel unworthy even moping for someone like Jungkook because not even his rejection, nor anyone else’s acceptance of your admiration by some sort of miracle, is enough to make you feel like you’d be missed.

Your two weeks without Jungkook is your rehearsal for the two months, then two years, then two forevers eventually without him by your side. You had still been able to live by yourself and with your friends, excluding him, and you thought you were fine because it feels as if nothing had changed.

You thought you were fine until Jungkook gets in your face to tell you that it’s not, and all over again, you’re reminded of how desperately you want to be loved by him to the point that you’d rather drown in your own pity to try and preserve whatever’s left of you.

"I told you the answer would-..."

"Shut up!" you cry, steeling your nerves when you realize that Jungkook’s angrily crying in front of you, wiping at his eyes hastily. ”For the love of god, shut up!"

Jungkook stays quiet, not because you told him to, but because nothing good comes to mind when he realizes that you’re crying because of him.

"See? You don't even get where I'm coming from because you're not even giving me the chance to explain myself without making it all about you,” you sob, finally pushing him away, to which he lets you. "That's the problem with you, Jungkook. You're too self-involved."

"Not true," Jungkook whispers, shaking his head earnestly even if he feels the stupidest he has ever did in his life in front of you.

He follows your steps out of routine even if his brain had convinced his system that he hates you just seconds ago, arms instinctively trying to crowd you when you almost trip on the flooring on your way to the coat rack.

"Since you keep insisting that I abandoned you," you chuckle dryly before grabbing your jacket, turning your back on Jungkook and on your own space, which had just been the default hangout place of the both of you for the longest time, in pursuit of your own quiet without him. "Let me follow through."

Jungkook doesn’t want to tell you how desperately he wants you to want him again, to love him as you already did, and neither do you.

( ♡ ) 

The perks of having a big friend group of that the absence of several members wouldn’t make that much of a difference when it comes to hanging out. It would still sustain itself without a few extra voices joining in on the chatter watching movies and the bullying when it comes to a forgotten birthday greeting here and there.

The downside of being in one, is that said big friend group doesn’t matter at all to Jungkook when you’re not in it.

The lengths that your friend (read: a word that Jungkook’s come to abhor) has went through since your fight at your dorm are basically incomprehensible because he’s fully involved himself.

He’s pining after you pathetically, just like how you had always dreamed of, yet seeing him take turn after turn just trying to gain your forgiveness for something you’ve always pitied yourself for makes you feel guilty.

In Jungkook’s defense, he wants to be forgiven and loved (again) as desperately as he acts on an everyday basis. Not only is e pathetic in the sense that he’s hopeless, but also pathetic in the light that he wants the entirety of you (stubbornness and occasional sharpness included) to rub off on him.

“I know I’m stupid. I-I.. I know that I was unfair for not even letting you confess your feelings because I felt like dying when you started to ignore me,” he mumbles to your bedsheets, his legs crossed on the ground and his head muffled by the fabric because he doesn’t even want to sit next to you in fear of you revoking his chance to apologize in person, again, as if that’s not what he had been doing the past weeks. “Y/N, you don’t deserve someone as stupid as me and I hate it so, so bad.”

The sound of Jungkook apologizing to you has already been repeated enough to the point you’ve learned when to tune him out, but with the way his heart precedes his tone this time, you stop folding your clothes in favor of Jungkook who’s just two seconds away from passing out on your bed by fabric conditioner-bathed quilt-induced suffocation, to which he couldn’t pass up on because it was your scent and he missed hugging you.

“I can’t catch up with you on anything that you’re talking about with Yoongi. The only times I open a book are when I want to look at you but I don’t want you to see me. I can’t— I can barely even talk to you without feeling like I’m beneath you,” he admits lowly, the truth of his rejection finally springing up a little too much, and almost a little too late. “I thought, stupidly, that we wouldn’t work because you deserve someone better.”

“I don’t need you to catch up with me, Jungkook,” you murmur, lightly slapping his cheeks because he looks sleepy from all the sniffing he’s done on your quilt, but really, his eyes are only narrowed into slits because he feels like he’s about to cry. Again.

“But I need to, b-because when we run out of things to talk about that you’re willingly to dumb down to my level, what else could we catch up on?” 

“You’re not stupid. I just say-…”

“No. Don’t make excuses for me,” he laughs lightly, still sat on your carpet obediently like a dog because he doesn’t want to push your boundaries. “I’m beneath you and I didn’t want to drag you down with me because I.. I didn’t feel that you deserve me,” he confesses. “But I want you so badly, Y/N. You have no idea.”

Jungkook wants you so badly, that in your insistence of self-pity, it was his self-preservation that led him to cry by himself when you finally left the library after not-confessing to him.

He wants you so badly, that in his fit of self-preservation disguised into stubbornness, he had tamped down his desperation for you.

“I want to catch up with you, not you to slow down for me,” Jungkook rests his chin on your thigh, his wide, pleading eyes looking up at you. “I’m so sorry, my baby. I’m so, so, so sorry for being stupid enough to let you go the first time,” he tilts his head, resting his cheek on your awaiting hand. “Please. I’m just begging you to slow down for me this one time,” Jungkook swallows the lump in his throat, nudging your hand gently with his cheek. “Please let me look stupid trying to earn you.”

Jungkook, without fail, tells you how desperately he wants to be loved by you.

[snoopychris]

introducing... nerd!matt and cheerleader!reader

warnings: mentions of vomit, underage drinking

matt's a little weird, quiet, and regularly ignored by other students. you're the girl who everybody in school wants to be (and matt wants to be with.)

when matt first started high school, he thought it would be a brand new start. he thought that he'd finally have more than two friends. he thought that people would finally notice him for being more than an extension of his brothers. he even thought that maybe, just maybe, girls would start to notice him. that was four years ago. even now, during the first semester of his senior year, matt does not have more than two friends, people do not see him as more than “the tight end’s brother”, “the photographers brother,” (even though some people have started seeing him as “that nerdy kid.”) and girls, in matt’s eyes, do not notice him.

when you first started high school, you felt on top of the world. you had an amazing group of friends, you felt surrounded by people you loved, and you felt seen. everybody loved you and the things you represented. always so full of pep and school spirit, there was no doubt you’d be cheer captain senior year. your 18th birthday was the biggest sign of being so loved. chris threw you a party at his house, and it seemed like there wasn’t a single person from your school who was missing. at some point through the night, your love for partying and drinking became pure hatred. you were leaned over the toilet of some random bathroom in the sturniolo house, hair being held back by chris- or at least, you swore it was chris at first. after a few minutes of vomiting, you came to the realization that there was no way it was chris. he was too nervous and sweet to be chris. that was the first time you really noticed matt. you had seen him around before, but you’d never really talked to him, nothing much more than a smile in the hallway or a thumbs up when he got a question right in class. the night of your 18th birthday party was the first time you had ever thought that “love at first sight” could be a real thing.

matt swore that you didn’t even remember that night. he was fully convinced that the next time you saw him in the hallway you would turn a blind eye, send him the usual smile, and continue walking alongside his brother and the rest of your friends. the truth of it was, the next time you saw matt in the hallway, you stopped in your tracks and grabbed onto his arm. matt’s heart did something he didnt think was actually possible and skipped multiple beats as he pulled out one of his airpods. your voice was quiet, but it was still the sweet, peppy voice that everybody in the school loved, “thank you… for the other night.” you notice the way he swallows and you can practically see the way the cogs in his head are turning “n… yeah… um… of course. its no problem at all.” you tuck a single strand of hair behind your ear, something that’s usually a tell tale sign of you being attracted to somebody, a habit you’ve always had and your friends have picked up on. as he begins to walk away, you feel your heart slightly sink before chris pulls you from your spot in the hallway. “theres no way you’ve got a crush on the sturniolo that still has a pokemon backpack”

๋࣭⭑ a/n: first post omggg ahhhh nervous. ive seen a lot of nerd and shy matt au's around and this takes inspo from a mix of a lot of those but there's nobody in particular to give credit to (but if you'd like some please feel free to message me and lmk!!!) divider credits to @bernardsbendystraws

[ineedpaigebuckets]

Pazzi angst fluff!!!

protect you

an: first one shot!!! TRIGGER WARNING HANNAH HIDALGO MENTIONED!!! anyways enjoy!!!

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paige was just lying on azzis chest as they watched home alone at azzis parents house. everyone else was asleep so it was just the two of them. ice being the instigator she is texted paige a tiktok of a hannah hidalgo live. paige watched the video volume on low so azzi couldn't hear. "what do you think of azzi fudd, i don't think about her what are you talking about." "there was no azzi in that game. congratulations! nobody asked." the words irked paige in a way she'd rather not describe she just huffed and started frantically typing out this long ass paragraph in hannah's dms before azzi heard the sound of typing.

"paige baby whatchu so stressed about?" she asked her voice soft as she places a soft hand on paige's cheek.

"fuckin hate hidalgo." she groans still typing. azzi gently tries to take paige's phone out of her hand but she doesn't budge.

"stop it azzi!" she says her voice more annoyed than usual causing azzi to flinch back.

"paige what is your problem." snatches paige's phone shoving it under her butt causing paige to sit up next to her climbing off of her chest.

"you didn't see her fucking live it was all "azzi fudd this azzi fudd that" blah blah blah bad mouthing my girl." azzi groaned and rolled her eyes. brushing her hair out of her face so she could properly yell at paige.

"paige i don't give a fuck what she has to say. i promise you it's fine. now what were you typing?" she asks pulling the phone back out and reading the text paige had wrote. still unsent thank god. azzi reads the message.

"fucking talk about my girl like that one more time and you're gonna find yourself trouble. this ain't about basketball and you know it. you gotta problem with me and my girlfriend say it to my fucking face not the whole internet. you're immature and you have no class-"

that's where azzi took the phone. her mouth is hung open as she reads the words and she stands up.

"paige madison you were not about to throw away your fucking career over this. you can't just say that." she's clearly mad. but all i'm good reason, she wanted paige to be the best she could be, get all the awards win all the games, the championships anything she could, this was not gonna help.

"you think i wouldn't do that to stand up for you azzi." paige doesn't stand up she stays seated, her anger all gone as she realized azzi was right. but her words were true. if it had hurt azzi in anyway she'd send it in a second.

"m'sorry i just wanna protect you." azzis face drops at paige's sweet words and she sits back in the spot on her couch with a huff.

"you're so fucking stupid." azzi grumbles but the cant hide the small smile on her face. she's deleted the paragraph and turned off paige's phone. of course paige crawls over and curls back into azzis chest.

"jus love you" she mumbles into azzis shirt and she can't help but hold the blonde close.

"i know i love you too so much." she whispers pressing soft kisses against her forehead.

"next time talk to me first alright. think before you act." paige nods and turns her attention back to the movie and the beautiful girl underneath her.

[dragon-ascent]

Hi hi hi!!! I absolutely adore your Zhongli fics your characterization of him makes me swoon he’s such a cutie

Out of curiosity, what’s your opinion on the Zhongli/Morax x reader trope of reader initially being a sacrifice to the dragon god only for Zhongli to be like “What no I don’t take sacrifices???” And just taking reader in as a sort of roommate or something like that. It’s a trope I find really interesting and funny and I’m curious to hear your thoughts on it :)

Hi hi and thank you! Zhongli's the cutest patootie :) <3 And I freaking LOVE that trope!!! Like, easily top 3 trope for Zhongli if you ask me. (I could make a whole tierlist of tropes for him, but that's a post for another day haha.)

Ik you just asked for thoughts but have a little write-up, as a treat. :)

xxx

Rex Lapis is a tad offended that he'd be perceived as the type of god to take human sacrifices, since he does everything in his power to ensure mortals feel comfortable and safe around him. But he's assimilated many groups of people into his land, so it's only natural some may still retain the beliefs and customs they did under the deities preceding him, as grim as that may be.

When you're left in front of his abode as a sacrifice, he sees how urgently he needs to rectify those customs.

You're a jittery thing, all nerves and shudders and, to his dismay, rather scantily-clad especially given the season. He does his best to push the implications of your clothing to the back of his mind as he brings you into his home and warms you up by the fire with some nice warm blankets too.

He assures you he will not lay a finger on you with malicious intent, but you're staring at him like a deer in headlights - like he'll throw you into the fire at any moment if you so much as breathe wrong. Every movement of his makes you stiffen, and even the tea he brews for you is met with trepidation in every sip.

He can't send you back to your people as they'll believe you're a faulty sacrifice and kill you off themselves - so Rex Lapis takes you in his care instead.

He feeds you, clothes you, and even lets you rest in his bed while he takes the floor beside you. You're mostly quiet at first, but as the days pass and there's no sign of him hurting, devouring, or killing you, a seed of trust in his words blossoms. You believe the God of Contracts when he gives you his word he will keep you safe and cared for.

Given the way he treats you, there's no reason to feel otherwise - you've become something of a close companion to him, someone to share the tender joys and sorrows of life with. He used to go on strolls by his lonesome, but now he finds that having someone to walk with is much more enriching, giving his evenings an added tinge of fulfilment.

People do stare and whisper when they see you by the god's side, but if this is how Rex Lapis chooses to make use of their 'sacrifice,' who are they to argue?

Some watch, agog, as the golden deity takes you to the market and practically splurges on you. You shyly point to a sweet treat that looks appetizing, and he boxes a dozen of them without a moment's hesitation. A pretty accessory catches your eye for a second longer than the others, and when you turn to move on to the next stall, Rex Lapis is having said accessory taken off display and handed to you.

"These are the calligraphy brushes I spoke of yesterday," he tells you casually as he runs a finger along the sleek wooden writing instruments. "Would you like to give the activity a try?" It only takes one meek nod from you for him to get you a whole set of the brushes, promising to teach you when you both get home.

It's a shocking sight to everyone who'd betrayed you, everyone who'd so easily given you up for some false belief they held on to so stubbornly: here you are, being treated like you're actually worth something to the god, what with the way he smiles and laughs softly at something you say, the way he gently touches your elbow to veer you away from the evening rush, the way his footsteps fall in rhythm with yours.

As you pass certain familiar faces, your head snaps down and you fall silent, and Rex Lapis immediately knows they're the ones responsible for your plight. He throws them a sharp, stone-cold glare over your downcast head, and they recoil in fright, quickly turning the other way to pretend they can't feel like a whole landslide of shame now hurtles along their spines.

Needless to say, he is greeted by no more human sacrifices at his door. The one he does have, he ensures a long, happy and healthy life for.

[mshalfemptygirl]

Under the Tree (S.R)

Plot: Y/N decorates the apartment for Christmas with her boyfriend, Spencer Reid, and things get pretty cute between the two of them. Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader Contents: A sweet Christmas fic where they’re being cute and flirting with each other. Maybe it releases a lot of oxytocin. A/N: I hope you all like it! Merry Christmas to those who celebrate, and if you don’t, I hope you have a wonderful day anyway and enjoy this little piece of joy. Love you all, and thanks for reading my fics! Happy Holidays!

The sweet scent of hot chocolate filled the apartment as I curled up on the couch, wrapped in a soft blanket. Across the room, Spencer was intently focused on his self-proclaimed mission to “perfectly top” our Christmas tree. I watched him as he studied the golden star in his hands, his brows knit together in concentration as if he were tackling one of his impossibly complex equations. “If you spend five more minutes deciding the exact angle of that star, the tree’s gonna give up and decorate itself,” I teased, trying to hide my amusement behind a sip of hot chocolate.

He glanced at me over the rim of his glasses, a faint blush creeping up his cheeks. “Did you know that the probability of a Christmas tree being perfectly symmetrical is practically zero? The branches are almost always uneven, even if they’re artificial.”

I raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Is that your fancy way of blaming the tree for how long this is taking?”

He turned back to the tree, the corner of his mouth twitching as he fought back a smile. “I’m not taking that long,” he said, climbing carefully onto a slightly wobbly chair. “I just want it to be… perfect.”

“It’s already perfect, Spencer,” I said softly, my words more for me than for him.

But he heard me. Spencer paused mid-movement and glanced over his shoulder. His gaze was steady, the warmth in his brown eyes making my chest tighten in the best way. “You think so?”

“Yeah,” I replied with a small smile, meeting his gaze. “And I’m not talking about the tree.”

His ears turned a deeper shade of red, and I couldn’t help but laugh quietly. He always got adorably flustered when I caught him off guard like that. But this time, instead of deflecting or looking away, he stepped down from the chair, the star forgotten in his hand, and walked toward me with deliberate calmness.

“You know,” he began, leaning one hand on the back of the couch as he hovered just a little too close, “flirting is actually considered a sign of intelligence.”

“Oh, really?” I asked, my voice softening despite the playful edge in his tone. “So, what does that say about you, Dr. Reid?”

His lips curved into a smirk, the kind that made my heart race and my knees feel just a little weaker. “It says I have exceptional intelligence... and impeccable taste.”

Heat rose to my face, but I managed to keep my composure, raising an eyebrow at him. “Humble as always.”

He chuckled, settling onto the couch beside me and tugging the blanket over both of us. His arm slipped around my shoulders, pulling me closer, and I leaned into his warmth without hesitation.

“You want to know something else interesting?” he asked, his voice dropping slightly, the rasp in it sending a pleasant shiver through me.

“Let me guess,” I said, tilting my head to look at him. “You’re about to hit me with another weirdly sexy statistic?”

Spencer laughed, the sound low and warm, and I couldn’t help but smile. “I could,” he admitted, his eyes sparkling with mischief, “but I was thinking of something a little more practical.”

“Like what?”

He didn’t answer immediately, his gaze dropping to my lips. “Like the fact that you’ve got hot chocolate on the corner of your mouth.”

Before I could react, he leaned in and wiped the spot with his thumb, his touch lingering just a moment too long. My breath hitched, and I swore his smirk grew as he noticed my reaction.

“All fixed,” he said softly, his voice casual, but his eyes held that undeniable spark that left me completely disarmed.

“Thanks… I guess,” I managed, my voice quieter than I intended.

“No need to thank me,” he replied, leaning in to press a quick, feather-light kiss to my cheek. His lips were gone before I could fully process the touch, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. “But if you wanted to repay me,” he added, his voice lower, more daring, “I have a few ideas.”

I laughed, trying to steady my racing heart. “Ideas, huh? Like what?”

He leaned back slightly, his lips curving into a smile that was equal parts playful and enticing. “Well,” he began, his tone light but purposeful, “we could finish decorating the gingerbread cookies. You know, keep things wholesome. Or…” His voice dipped, his gaze locking on mine, “we could forget about the cookies entirely and stay right here. See where this... takes us.”

I tilted my head, pretending to consider his words as my pulse hammered in my ears. “And what exactly do you think ‘this’ is going to lead to, Spence?”

He didn’t hesitate, shifting closer until his knee brushed mine, his presence impossibly magnetic. “That’s the best part,” he murmured, his voice soft but full of meaning. “I don’t know yet. But I’m pretty confident I’ll like wherever it goes.”

[taojjang]

𐙚 christmas morning with riize .ᐟ

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ advent calendar, day twenty-five: the finale! pairing: bf!riize x reader, genre: fluff! warnings: SO MUCH LOVE </33

synopsis: how riize would make your christmas feel extra special!

a/n: merry christmas my briize friends! i hope all of you guys had an amazing christmas! the advent calendar is coming to a close, so i wanted to show my appreciation for everyone who showed support! i had so much fun writing these holiday fics and i'm glad so many of you enjoyed them <3 i still have five (and maybe a bonus winkwink) fics that i'll be posting to make up for my mini hiatus, so this will not be the last. again. thank you so much ! 🧡

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✩ shotaro ⸝⸝

shotaro is the sweetest boy in the world, so of course christmas morning would be like a dream come true! the night prior, taro snuggled up with you and stroked your hair until you fell asleep. but the second he heard your light snores, he cautiously snuck off to the living room and began his christmas magic. he grabs a huge bag of gifts he's hidden in the basement and begins wrapping all of them by the christmas tree, ensuring not to exceed the squeak of a mouse.

the next morning, you shake taro awake and press frantic kisses on his face, desperate to open the gifts you've been waiting weeks for. but once the two of you reach the living room, your excitement melts into a puddle of pure astonishment and adoration for your sweet bf :(

"surprise! merry christmas, honey!"

✩ eunseok ⸝⸝

eunseok can't help but smile every time you go on and on about how excited you are for christmas. he loves seeing that silly little grin every time he brings up the holidays so much to the point where he mentions christmas almost every few hours. your jittery anticipation is just so cute <3

but that does not mean he's nice! even though you woke up so much earlier than usual and begged him to get up and open gifts, he would shake his head and say you're not allowed to open gifts until you eat :( so he cooks this luxurious and well-balanced breakfast so good you forget all about being upset! he buys you tons and tons of clothing and jewelry so you can always think of him when you wear the pretty clothes he picked out for you <3

"you would look so pretty in this dress, darling."

✩ sungchan ⸝⸝

no matter the time of year, sungchan is always spoiling the hell out of you. you tell him about a pretty necklace you want and its at your doorstep within days. he never lets his pretty princess miss out on all the fancy things she deserves. so of course he goes all out for christmas!

when you send him your christmas wishlist, he makes sure to buy every. single. item. there is nothing he wouldn't buy you. even if you wish for a unicorn and a gun he WILL get that horse armed with the meanest glock you've ever seen. the only issue is... he's a bit of a procrastinator. after you open all of your gifts on christmas, he'll keep his head low and giggle in shame, admitting he ordered your gifts a bit late and they won't be here until mid january. but you can't even be mad at him because that silly bf of yours is the best gift you could ever ask for :(

"i'm sorry princess... i swear i got everything on your list!"

✩ wonbin ⸝⸝

wonbin being the sweet little perfectionist he is, he'll be up all night worrying if you'll like your gifts or not :( he's lying beside you, biting his nails and fretting if he got everything on your wishlist while you're out cold. but the next morning, you couldn't understand what he was worried about.

everything was like a dream. all of your gifts were wrapped in the fanciest shiny wrapping paper and even decorated with pretty silk ribbons on each box. he even put together multiple gift baskets for you, filled with all of your favorite snacks and even cute photos of the both of you :( how could he ever doubt himself when he's the best boyfriend in the world?

"did i get everything you wanted, baby? if there's anything i missed, just let me know."

✩ seunghan ⸝⸝

seunghan just can't contain his excitement! he wakes you up a little earlier than planned with dozens of kisses peppered all over your face because he's just so eager to give you your gifts :( you're a bit cranky from being woken up an hour earlier than necessary but once you begin opening his gifts, you forget every complaint you've ever had.

all of his gifts would be packed with so much love and consideration. everything was wrapped in your favorite color and even had small cards inside every single box. every gift would have a little note attached to it, telling you the silly stories of the troubles he's endured to get you that gift. some gifts would even have cute blurbs about how cute you'd look using the gift :(

"i'm sorry for waking you up early, angel... i hope these make up for it!"

✩ sohee ⸝⸝

this little sohee guy is silly alright. no matter the occasion, sohee is always gonna find a way to make you either laugh until your stomach hurts or massage your temples in frustration. he loves messing with you, so of course he had to buy an elf on the shelf this christmas. every day since december first, that elf has been nothing but a menace. some mornings he'd kindly leave a bunch of hershey kisses on the kitchen counter for you, yet other mornings he'd trash your entire room with toilet paper and call it a snowstorm.

if you didn't have a headache already, there was no way the elf would leave you alone on christmas. on christmas morning, sohee would wake you up with this silly grin on his face telling you to get ready quickly so he can show you your "gifts." but of course the frickin elf made a huge igloo out of the gift boxes, leaving it in the center of the living room and sitting on top of it with that smug smirk on his face. you couldn't lie, it was quite impressive.

"WOAH!!! HE GIFTED YOU A NEW HOUSE!!!"

(ps. you saw him on the doggy monitor getting up at 4am to make the gift igloo, but you couldn't get enough of his proud little smile so you kept quiet!)

✩ anton ⸝⸝

your baby anton is so stupidly in love with you :( he'd spend months in advance searching for the perfect gifts for you, buying everything you mention wanting. you knew about this after seeing a note on his phone with all of the items you've spoken about, but you didn't expect this christmas to be even more exciting than you'd concluded.

he would be super duper excited to give you the gifts he prepared because they're just so heartwarming </3 anton would handcraft those mementos of his favorite photos of you and your favorite flowers. everything would even be wrapped in your favorite color with silly little stickers all over them :( anton never misses even the smallest details about you. he does all of this for you but even if you got him just a simple hoodie, he'd probably tear up (yes he's a loser for you).

"you deserve even more than this, my love."

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���˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ tag list! (ask or comment to be added!)

@endtostartbreathin @gacktsa @hanninova @ramyeonzprincess @taroddori

[yexthiccxa]

Secrets of the Second Shift - (Part 5)

summary: Choso wakes up and sees that you've left his place in the middle of the night (part 4). He gives you the cold shoulder but when you sort out a misunderstanding, the week goes from tough ...to rough ;)

wordcount: 4.4k words

full fic c/w: choso smut, choso/fem!reader, choso/oc, modern!au, some plot, plot what plot, porn with plot, gentleman!choso, soft!choso, praise kink, blindfold sex, oral, fingering, vaginal sex, fingering, oral, multiple orgasms

a/n: let me know if you want to be added to the tag list for this!

Tumblr Master List | Read this chapter on AO3!

✦✧✸✧✦ 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT ✦✧✸✧✦

FIVE HOURS EARLIER

The sky is still dark. You wake up in a room that is illuminated by the glow of the moonlight coming from the floor-to-ceiling windows, a room that isn’t yours. Right. Turning your head, you see Choso lying next to you in a deep sleep. Even in the dead of night, he’s still the most handsome man you’ve ever laid your eyes on. 

The clock on the bedside table reads 1:03 a.m. “Fuck,” you mutter.

You shift carefully, mindful not to disturb him, and glance around the room. The chaos of earlier is gone. Your clothes have been folded neatly on a nearby chair, and the abandoned dishes from dinner are nowhere in sight. Did he really make the extra effort to clean all this up? How sweet. You think.

The thought sends a warm but unsettling jolt through you. Part of you wants to lay back down, bury yourself in the comfort of the bed, and settle into the arms of the beautiful man sleeping next to you.

But then there’s that other part of you—the louder, nagging voice that reminds you staying means more than just a night. It’s not just sharing a bed; it’s sharing something more, something you’re not ready for.

Your decision feels bittersweet, but it’s for the best. Carefully, you slip out from under the sheets, get dressed, and find the rest of your belongings. You slip out the front door quietly in hopes of not waking him. When you make it out, you head to the lobby and call yourself an Uber.

Your ride arrives faster than you expect, and within minutes you’re home. The familiarity of your space doesn’t bring the comfort you thought it would. Instead, your mind is restless. You pace for a few minutes before sitting on the edge of your bed, phone in hand.

You can’t just leave without saying anything, you tell yourself.

Your internal panic causes you to scroll through your recent calls. When you press the contact on your phone, you bring it straight to your ear and hope to the heavens he’s a deep enough sleeper to have the call go to voicemail. As it rings, you find yourself resting your head in the palm of your hand.

“The person you are trying to dial is unavailable. Please leave a message after the tone.”

Thank god.

“Hey. I figured it would be easier to call you instead," you start, words catching in your throat for a second. "Today was honestly so great and I’m so thankful for everything you did today. You’re so sweet and I love that about you.”

You pause, unsure of what else to say, but finally gather up the courage to let it out. “But if I’m being real, I’m just not used to this… yet. It’s been a while since I’ve been with anyone like that. I hate to admit it, I guess I’m just scared of things becoming complicated.”

Your chest tightens, like you’ve stuck a dagger through your own heart. “Anyways, it’s late and I think we should probably just talk about this more in person. But I just wanted to call and let you know that I’m home safe and to say…. thanks, I guess.”

You let out one last breath. “I’ll see you at work.”

The silence hangs heavy before you end the call abruptly. You set the phone down and lay back on your own bed just to stare at the ceiling. You can’t stop your mind from wondering what he’ll think when he hears it.

✦✧✸✧✦

“I’m only saying this because I love you, but you look like shit” Yuki begins as she settles into her desk, unpacking her laptop. She studies you critically. “...and you never look like shit.”

You blink, trying to ground yourself after a night of tossing and turning. “Huh? Oh—yeah, I just… didn’t sleep well last night.”

Yuki’s eyes narrow, sharp with suspicion. “Damn. Late night?” She leans in closer to you, lowering her voice. “Wait… with Choso?”

“No, no, no—” Lie. You scramble for something convincing. “I don’t think I’m gonna go for him.” Another lie. “I’ve just been thinking about it more…” Not a lie. “...and I think it’s probably best to just keep things professional.” Half-lie.

“Fine.” She sighs dramatically, sitting back in her chair. “Just know, I’m still rooting for you two.” Her grin returns as she looks past you. “Oh, speak of the devil…”

You glance up and instinctively call out to him. “Hey, Choso!”

Choso meets your eyes briefly, but his gaze flicks away almost instantly as he strides toward the break room without a word. The abruptness stings, even if it’s what you expected.

Yuki whistles low under her breath. “Oof. Ice cold.”

You get up to follow him, but before you can catch him, Naoya cuts in front of you. He has a stack of papers in hand and an unsettling smugness radiating from him. “Good morning. Here are the notes from last week’s focus group. I’ll need you to analyze these and add your findings to the kickoff presentation that’s happening later this month.”

You frown, flipping through the papers. “What presentation?”

“I sent an email yesterday,” he says with exaggerated patience. “We’re meeting with stakeholders from a potential lead to discuss the feasibility of our new product. Try to finish early so Choso has time to review the deck before he presents.”

Your jaw tightens. “Excuse me? Choso? Is there a reason he’s doing the presentation for my research?”

Naoya’s smirk deepens. “Let’s just say he knows what the audience is looking for.”

“What the fu—” You stop short, forcing yourself to take a deep breath before HR gets involved. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” Naoya says slowly, “analyze your findings, finish the presentation, and send it to Choso. You’re lucky I’m giving you a head start.”

He spins on his heel and walks off, leaving your irritation simmering.

You don’t waste time. Marching to the break room, you find Choso by the coffee machine. “Choso,” you say, voice firm.

He glances up, expression unreadable. “Morning.”

“Can we talk?” you ask, trying to get his attention.

His focus is still glued to the coffee machine. “If you’d like to schedule some time later,” he says flatly, “feel free to book any available slot on my calendar.”

Your jaw drops. The audacity.

He lifts his gaze slightly, just enough to meet yours. For a fleeting moment, there’s something almost soft in his expression—a tiny flicker of warmth that you might’ve imagined.

“By the way, did Naoya tell you about the presentation?” he asks, voice even.

And just like that, the warmth vanishes, replaced by the same guarded professionalism you didn’t know you could hate.

“Yes,” you answer, matching his curt tone.

“Great.” He nods, grabbing his mug. As he moves past you, he adds, “Looking forward to seeing your findings,” the words clipped and distant as he steps out of the room.

Well he certainly put the pro in professional. You can’t fault him for staying true to the boundaries, but what the hell was that? 

The rest of the week is no better. Choso avoids you when he can, and when he can’t, his interactions are painfully brief and impersonal. You hoped that every new day would be a fresh start, but every interaction was filled with short hellos, no goodbyes, or ten second comments about the weather. It was like Choso was a shell of the man—not the man who once held you so gently. 

You have no reason to be mad. After all, you’re the one who set the playing field. He’s just following the rules. You try not to think too much of it, but the distance gnaws at you with each passing day. The romantic part of you (or what’s left of it) feels like this is torture, while the logical part reassures you this is for the best. Unfortunately, neither side has any idea how to make it through the week.

By the time Friday rolls around, you’re surprised you’re still sane. Every day has been an exhausting blend of tension, awkward exchanges, and overthinking. You hope that today is the day you can finally settle things with Choso, but it’s 3pm and you haven’t seen him all day.

You’re at your desk working on the deck for the kickoff presentation, when you see one of the guys from Choso’s team.

“Hey, Yuji,” you call, swiveling your chair toward him. “Have you seen Choso today?”

Yuji pauses, scratching the back of his head. “Saw him this morning, but I think he’s out for the rest of the day. Something about schmoozing a potential lead.”

Is this the same lead for the presentation this month? You try not to let your frustration show, but your tone gets the better of you. “Got it. Thanks.”

Yuji pauses, trying to redirect the conversation to lighten the mood. “Are you coming to Happy Hour tonight?” he asks, grinning.

“Not this time,” you say with a polite shake of your head. “Maybe the next one.”

“It’ll be fun!” He leans in. “I told Choso to go. If he shows up, maybe you two can talk there!”

“It’s okay,” you reply, forcing a smile. “Thanks for letting me know, though. I’ll just catch up with him next week.”

Yuji shrugs and walks away, leaving you alone with the sinking realization that you won’t even get to see Choso for the second shift. You find yourself crushed under disappointment, but you try not to let it show.

When the clock finally hits five, you grab your things and head to Blinded Bliss. When you walk through the platinum doors, you make a beeline for the bar, ignoring everything—including Satoru’s smug grin as waves at you.

“Two tequilas,” you tell the bartender, tapping your nails impatiently on the counter. “Heavy pour.”

“Whoa there, love,” Satoru’s voice cuts in from behind, startling you. “Tough week?”

“You could say that,” you reply flatly. “But it’s really no one’s fault except my own. I made my bed, now I have to lay in it.”

Satoru doesn’t pry, but instead tries to make light of the situation. “Well, hopefully that bed makes you some big bucks. A few high rollers are back tonight, you know what that means.”

“Great,” you mutter, rolling your eyes. “Look how well that worked out for me last time.”

Satoru chuckles, leaning against the bar. “Stop being a Debbie Downer. I’ve got a good feeling about tonight.”

“Whatever, Satoru,” you say, waving him off.

“Oh, by the way,” he says casually, placing his hand on your shoulder. “Sorry I never called you back earlier this week. It was late, and I had an early morning. Totally slipped my mind.”

You pick your head up, confused. “Huh?” You blink, the words not quite landing. “What call?”

“Monday or Tuesday maybe?” he replies, pulling out his phone. “You left me a voicemail. Didn’t actually get to listen to it though. You know me—busy bee.”

Your stomach tightens. “Satoru. What voicemail?”

He shrugs, tapping a few times on his phone before holding it out. A recording plays, and your own voice filters through the bar’s noise like a ghost from the past:

“Hey. I figured it would be easier to call you instead… Today was honestly so great, and I’m so thankful…”

Your heart pounds as you frantically grab your phone, scrolling to your recent calls. You hold your breath, dreading what you’re about to see.

Monday’s call didn’t go to Choso.

It went to Satoru Gojo.

Your stomach plummets. “Oh fuck,” you whisper, the realization dawning like a storm cloud.

✦✧✸✧✦

“It’s not even that bad,” Satoru says, leaning back against the wall with an easy shrug, his tone too nonchalant for your spiraling thoughts.

“Satoru, he probably thinks I’m an asshole!” you hiss. “What kind of decent person leaves without any context?”

“Well,” he says, smirking, “you did say you were trying to keep it casual.”

“I meant friends with benefits casual, not one-night stand casual!” you snap, running a hand through your hair in frustration.

Satoru raises an eyebrow, his grin widening. “Splitting hairs now, aren’t we?”

You groan, pressing your palms against your temples. The memory of Choso—his soft touch, the tenderness in his eyes, the careful way he’d folded your clothes—flashes through your mind. Guilt claws at your chest. You’re trapped in the endless loop of replaying that moment you slipped out the door, convincing yourself you made the right call while feeling the crushing weight of regret.

Satoru snaps to bring you back to reality. “Hey! Listen, I am happy to let you vent all night if that’s what you need, but right now? I need you to snap out of it.”

You huff, crossing your arms. “Fine.”

“Good. Trust me, by the end of the night, you’ll forget all about what happened.” He gives you a self assured wink. “Have you ever had a bad time in this room?”

You sigh, reluctantly admitting, “...No.”

“Exactly,” he says, grabbing the black fabric blindfold from the bed. “Now, let’s get this on you so we can begin.”

The soft material brushes against your skin as he ties it securely over your eyes. The darkness heightens every sound—the creak of the door, the muffled voices, the footsteps of those entering. The bids start like any other night, with Satoru rejecting men one after the other. Their polished words fall flat, their presence failing to meet his standards.

After what feels like an eternity (and far more candidates than usual) your shoulders begin to sag. Your mind is filled with frustration and mingling with hopelessness. You’ve lost count of how many people you’ve gone through, but each rejection stings more than the last.

Just as you’re about to resign yourself to disappointment, the door opens again. This time, a heaviness fills the room. No words are spoken, but the weight of the silence speaks volumes.

You can hear Satoru’s measured footsteps as he circles the room, assessing. “Hmm…I was beginning to think the well would run dry,” he muses, his tone intrigued.

The silence stretches. You hold your breath, waiting for him to continue, wondering why this time feels different.

“Ready to give him a taste, love?” he finally asks.

The question catches you off guard. What is going on? Satoru never moves to the second phase without a single word exchanged, so you’re left to wonder what’s different this time around. Before you can dwell on it, a familiar voice cuts through the quiet.

“With all due respect, Satoru—I have been waiting all week for this. I’d rather taste her all by myself.”

Your heart stutters, the blood rushing to your ears. You know that voice.

“Very well,” Satoru replies smoothly, you can sense the amusement in his tone. “Enjoy, Choso.”

The door clicks shut behind him, leaving you alone with the man who’s haunted your thoughts all week.

Choso’s footsteps approach, deliberate and slow. He reaches out, his fingers grazing the edge of the blindfold before slipping it off. The dim light floods your vision, but it’s nothing compared to the intensity of his gaze.

“You’re here,” you murmur, your voice barely audible. “...But aren’t you supposed to be with everyone else right now?”

He closes the distance between you, his palm cupping your cheek with a tenderness that stops your words. His touch is warm, grounding you, but his eyes burn with something unspoken.

“The only person I have any interest in being with right now is you,” he says, his voice soft but unwavering.

“Choso, I’m so sorry. I tried calling, but—”

He doesn’t let you finish. His hands frame your face, pulling you closer. The proximity is electrifying. “If you want things clean, we can keep it clean,” he says, his tone low and deliberate. “If you want no pressure, no attachments, no strings, you’ve got it.”

Your breath catches as his words sink in, leaving you speechless.

“All I know,” he continues, his voice thick with restrained longing, “is that I’ve spent this entire week fighting every urge to put my hands all over you every time I see you. I want you… badly. So if this is what I need to do to have you, I’ll do it all.”

You try to find the words to explain everything, but the words can’t seem to form. Instead, you let out a faint whisper to repeat yourself. “I—I’m sorry.”

“Apology accepted,” he says, a hint of a smile ghosting across his lips before he kisses you.

Whenever Choso has his lips on you, it feels like he can never get enough, but this time it feels controlled. His rhythm is sensual and slow, like every kiss is meant to savor every last bit he’s missed throughout the week.

Before you get lost in his touch, he manages to pull back. He looks at you with sincerity before his gaze darkens into lustful desire. “But if you still want to make it up to me…” he starts. “...Be a good girl and open up for me.”

The drop in Choso’s voice has your insides trembling with arousal. You notice how his demeanor has completely shifted. This is different from any other version of him that’s been between your legs. It’s dark, rough, and the type of Choso that commands your presence without even lifting a finger. You don't know what’s coming next, but you’re more than willing to step into the storm he’s offering.

 “Yes, sir.”

Your words trigger Choso’s desire to be close to you. Within seconds, you feel the weight of his body pinning you to the bed.

When you look into his eyes, the soft flames turn into a deep fiery abyss. His lips find yours with a possessive force that electrifies your core. Choso doesn’t just want you, he needs to have you and nothing will stop him.

As you kiss, you feel him slide your wrists above your head. “You know, in thinking about this a bit more, maybe a few creative consequences might be a bit more fun.” His words come out as a smoldering whisper as he motions to the restraints attached to the headboard. “You up for it?”

The thought of Choso strapping you down and having his way with you does more to your filthy mind than expected. “Mhmm,” you hum, the rush from your core begins to drip out of you.

He pauses. “Excuse me?” he teases as he locks his eyes onto yours. This is a man who is ready to dominate you from the inside out.

You give him a playfully challenging look. “Sorry—yes, sir,” you reply.

His mouth curls into a devilish grin. “Better.” Choso wraps the cuffs around your wrists, leaving yourself vulnerable to anything he could possibly do to you. “If you want to get out of these, you’ll have to earn it. How ‘bout it beautiful, ready to play?”

You watch him undress, paying attention to every muscle that’s revealed. When he finally slips on a condom, you spread your legs wide open and purr,  “Always ready for you.”

Choso sets his bare body against yours and brings his hand to your folds. He inserts his fingers into you like it’s second nature.

The motion causes you to take in a sharp inhale. God, you’ve missed how full his fingers feel inside you. “Oh yes Cho—”

“Look how wet you’re getting for me, I can’t wait to be inside that tight fucking pussy.”

The way he speaks to you fills your mind with sinful thoughts. You want him to not only fuck your tight pussy, but absolutely destroy it.

Maybe Choso is a mind reader because your wish is his command.

Without taking his hand off your clit, Choso moves himself between your thighs and directs his length into your entrance. He presses into you in one solid motion and your mind gets an instant hit of bliss.

“Fuck—” you cry, soaking all of him in.

“You’ve got it, babe.” He praises as he continues to thrust into you. “Show me how well you can take this dick.”

You want to wrap your arms around him, but the restraints serve their purpose and keep you in place. You’d think your inability to take control would frustrate you, but instead it unleashes a part of you that drives you to the brink of sensual madness. Your attraction to Choso and the way he takes charge is through the roof. You could come right here and now if you wanted to, but you know he has a lot more in store for you.

When you’ve properly adjusted to him and your wetness coats his entire shaft, his pace begins to pick up. He takes his hands and grips the outside of your thighs, the pads of his fingers burn into your skin as he raises your legs to your shoulders.

When he dips down deep inside of you, all you can hear are your needy moans filling the room.

“Good job, babe. No one’s ever taken my cock as good as you,” Choso growls. His voice is rough and labored, but unmistakably laced with passion and desire.

As he pounds himself inside of you, you can feel how much he craves the connection between you two. Being the sole source of his pleasure makes you crazy and you know that you both want the same thing: more.

“Fuck yes, Choso—harder” you plead.

To your dismay, he actually slows down—but the look on his face tells you he’s nowhere near stopping. “I’ll give you harder, princess. Flip over for me.”

“Yes, sir,” you purr. The restraints give you just enough slack to cross them over so you can set yourself on all fours. You rest your head into your elbows and arch your back to angle your ass upwards for Choso.

He palms your ass and gives it a firm slap before drilling himself back in. The thunderous sound of his hand against your skin echoes throughout the room.

The delicious stinging sensation on your flesh causes you to throw your head back with pleasure. But before you can return back to your position, you feel Choso grab a handful of your hair. He firmly tugs you back until he can whisper in your ear. “How’s that for harder, beautiful?”

He continues to drive into you, each thrust more irresistible than the last. Tears begin to fall down your cheek, but you can’t help but get drunk off of the intoxicating pain. “So…f—fucking…good,” you try to say between each breath.

Being manhandled by Choso is downright addictive. He commands you in a way that doesn’t need to be spoken. Everytime he grabs your waist, his grip says you’re mine. When he spanks your ass, his touch says you’re mine. Even when he pulls you closer to kiss your neck, his lips say you’re mine. You don't fight back because you happily oblige.

The sound of skin slapping against each other paired with a melody of grunts and moans tears through the whole room. There’s no signs of stopping until you feel the tightness in your center dance on the edge, ready to burst.

Time seems to slow when Choso is inside you, but that doesn’t stop how quickly your orgasm creeps up. You try to speak but your words come out as incoherent moans. “Choso, I’m so close—”

Choso quickly replies, “Nope—consequences, remember?” He may be god’s gift to earth, but right now he’s playing the devil. “You’re going to have to hold it in until I say you can come.” You can hear the menacing grin through his voice.

Somehow that demand turns you on even more. “Cho—” you whine.

“If you want it so badly, beg for it.” His voice is rough as he penetrates deeper into you.

You can’t help the moans that come out when he slams into your cervix. “Please Choso, let me come on your cock.”

“Good girl,” he muses. “Just like that.”

You try to hold back but you’re almost at your peak. “Please Cho—I can’t…” you pant.

“Just a little more, baby.” His pace remains unrelenting. “Breathe. You can take it.”

You try to hold yourself back as much as you can, but every second gets harder than the last. All you want to do is have your pussy throb around his dick. The way he’s making you feel is too good.

Finally, he pulls your hair to bring you up one last time and it’s like you’ve reached salvation. Choso moves his hand to cup the edges of your neck and whispers, “Come with me.”

Immediately, you shatter. And Choso is right there with you.

The gentle grip of his hands around your neck intensifies your orgasm. It makes you feel so light you could practically ascend to heaven. Your only hope right now is that Choso feels the same way too.

You can hear the groans of him coming undone, it’s like music to your ears. When he lightens his hold, his chest falls to your back. It’s soothing how well he fits around you, part of you wants to stay like this forever.

But alas, all good things come to an end. Fortunately for you, something even better waits for you at the end of the tunnel. Choso untangles you from the restraints and releases the cuffs around your wrist. When you’re on your back, he brings himself closer and wraps his arms securely around you.

Choso plants a kiss onto your lips before giving you an admiring look. “You’ve earned your way out this time, but let’s see how well you fare next Friday.”

Your smirk is paired with a playful tone. "Remind me to have Satoru update the schedule so we can do this every day."

He chuckles. "Sure, but that’ll have to wait.” His gaze turns into something deep and darker. “...I’m not even finished with you yet."

You lean in closer, your voice breathless but daring. "Give me everything you’ve got…I can take it."

Once again, he’s on top of you in the blink of an eye. "That’s my girl."

--

taglist: @jud3thedude @makingtimemine @chosslut @liiiacke @trishiepo0 @celestialforce

[numberonetacostan]

In s1 Bomb says Taco only knows French and some other words and I feel like this could mean a few different things.

She already knew French (somehow) and just used that to her advantage.

Simple lying.

Or she learnt a whole ass new language idk

They never actually talk more about it and if I'm being honest with myself it was probably just a throwaway line but I am allowing myself to be delusional for two reasons.

1. It would be funny

2. Using it for tacomic, the idea of Taco saying something romantic in French but immediately switching up if Mic asked what it meant.

(This is just rambling so if it doesn't make as much sense as I hoped I apologise 😔)

Hi there!!!^^ Welcome, and thank you for sending in an ask!!!! :D Especially one about Taco speaking French!!!!!! I AM THE LORD EMPEROR OF FRENCH SPEAKING TACO.

I HAVE PERSONALLY GOTTEN IT CONFIRMED BY JUSTIN THEMSELF TWICE. ONCE IN DURING A STREAM IN WHICH I ASKED IF MEPAD COULD CHANGE HIS LANGUAGE SETTINGS AND SPEAK FRENCH WITH TACO, WHICH THEY SAID WAS SOMETHING THAT COULD HAPPEN, AND IN A CAMEO I BOUGHT IN WHICH JUSTIN, AS GOO, CONFIRMED THAT TACO HAD "REAL FRENCH-SPEAKING POWER"!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SHE SPEAKS FRENCH GUYS IT'S TRUE IT IS IT IS IT IS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Anyways uh sorry im very passionate about taco speaking french. Mephone just programmed her with it. He watched movies with french and british villains and couldn't pick when he was making his own antagonist so she got both. She's, uh, Brench. Fritish?

Her trying to romance Mic and changing it up when she asks what it means is so very cute!!!!! I am also terrible at socializing like Taco is, and I have an easier time saying things when I'm not using English too!!!! Oooooo, it's so sweet!!! She can say the most poetic stuff in French, but English? She stutters through even one (1) attempt at flirting.

Also surprise surprise I'm putting my Mepad and Taco French speaking propaganda here!!!! I don't think he'd know she speaks it before meeting her, but he'd hear her talking to herself in it and casually change his language settings so he can speak with her!! She'd be startled by it at first because she's never spoken French with anyone else before, but I think it would make her happy!!!! She's already opened up emotionally to Mepad, I think them being able to communicate in a way that no one else can understand would be reassuring for her and even help her to talk more about her feelings. I also think she could ask him, like, how to socialize in French. She isn't sure how to respond to something in conversation? Isn't sure if what she wants to say is rude or not? She can privately ask Mepad in French!!!! hnnnnngh language speaking emotional intimacy my beloved.

[teasedontplease]

@briskoftrouty

{I smiled hearing Sam confirm that he thought I was a knock-out. My smile brightening as he further used the word "beautiful" as he clarified his initial comment. I appreciated Sam's support. Only he could look at me in my current state and refer to me as beautiful. It was just the kind of guy he was... Genuinely sweet, kind, and caring. I thought with a lingering smile as we started the familiar drive back to my house. Knowing if we didn't head that way soon, my mom would be sending out a search team since she had dinner waiting for our arrival. It was no mystery or secret that my mom absolutely adored Sam. She tended to be the overly supportive, tell me whatever she thought I wanted to hear, kind of mom, but the one exception was when I stupidly lost Sam. I remember hearing repeatedly what a bad choice I made over that. For one, she was never a fan of Finn, so she was always against me dating him, but two, she thought the sun rose and set with Sam, so even though my mom never used the word "idiot" to describe me, I knew inwardly she was thinking it... Truth was, I knew I was an idiot for losing Sam. It was a hard lesson learned, but one I learned nonetheless. One that I'd never make again should Sam ever find a way to trust me again} Thank you, Sam... I appreciate your sweet words and all of your support too. {I said with a gracious nod before my head bobbed into another nod when he mentioned the glee club also being there to support me} I know they would... Regardless of how awful I was to them in the past, the glee club has always had my back. Especially Rachel which is weird considering I used to refer to her as "the troll" all the time. I've gotta say, I never thought the day would come when I'd consider her a friend... Just goes to show you that people really can change. {I said with an amused smile} This is true, my mom can be a bit of a pushover. She adores you though, so she'll be thrilled when she finds out you're going to take me to school on my first day back. And about prom, too. {Smiles}

Continued

@teasedontplease

Broken hearts; the break ups haunt you. Sam always had a big heart; he felt it came from being a big brother. He tended to sugarcoat his feelings in order to put his siblings first. He cared about others more than he wanted to care about himself. When it came to Lima he felt he’d be the outcast, he never expected to be recruited from the glee club, or to make it onto the football team. He wanted to be involved. He wanted to be liked. But he got more than he felt he deserved. 

Quinn; she was the princess, the sweetheart of the cheerios. She was the it girl; and I liked her instantly. The second I laid eyes on her I felt that flutter in my chest. And I knew I wanted to win her over. She had reservations, she had her own secrets. Obviously he heard the rumors of her history; of the gossip mill. But Sam never cared he didn’t care about her mistakes from the year before. I cared about getting to know the her now. I had been stupid and naive to believe the blonde would fall in love with me. I had been stupid and got wrapped up in the us i wanted. Did I think too far beyond high school? Absolutely not. I had no idea what my future looked like; I played the days one at a time. I tried to replay the days that led up to the female cheating on me. Could I have do something differently? Was it my fault she felt the need to fall into the arms of an ex? Sam kept replaying the thoughts in his mind. And he was the good guy; the guy that cared a tad too much until she gave me the reason to turn my back on her. My biggest mistake was falling for Santana’s game; believing her when she told me she thought I should know. I was hurt, I felt my heart break into two. 

I lashed out; I felt out of character being with Santana; but it was easier than to face the hurt I felt. Each time I looked at her I felt the tighten of my chest, I felt the thought of wanting to cry spring to my eyes, but Quinn didn’t deserve me to react; she had hurt me on her own. But I also was sorry for hurting her instead of being the man my dad raised me to be which was to comfort the people who upset you. To comfort those that did you wrong. I had morals and for a few weeks I lost sight of it. But now I knew I was wrong; and that’s why I felt a piece of myself was forgiving Quinn. I cared enough to drag her out of her house after the accident. I cared enough to look her in the eye; to lash it out with each other. 

Tension and awkwardness; but I think the storm passed as we sat within the walls of my car. I felt the tension slowly wash away; I felt like we had to forgive ourselves before being able to be friends. Did I love Quinn? Yes; no doubt, but I was in no means prepared to jump right in. She had to earn the right to make her way into my heart again. Today wasn’t about us; it was about her; the want to take her mind off her injuries for a few hours. I had a plan in notion; the movie in the park; it would be dark in a few hours; and even if we sat in the car facing the screen I think she’d smile because it was her favorite movie. Well one of them. 

Hand rested on the wheel at the subject of prom. Did I detect a hint of hopefulness in her voice? Did I detect that she wanted me to ask her? Maybe a few months ago I would’ve but now? I didn’t trust myself or the blonde sitting in the seat next to me. I had tried to dodge the answer; not wanting to hurt Quinn and I didn’t lie. Tina and mike did want to go as a group; well more like I was tagging along as the third wheel. I had to laugh at myself how pathetic..? The blonde held his laugh until I turned his gaze over to the female. A soften gaze fixed onto his features. 

“ You know, I’m sure if you wanted you can tag along with the group, the more the better right?” A lightness to his voice shown, as he extended his hand out to place upon her own. A small touch to say he understood. “ I think each one of us is, for what it’s worth, you always have my vote for queen.” A softness in him; his eyes fixated on her; holding her gaze, a moment; one where he knew he was going to be in trouble.

[napping-sapphic]

As a butch, you bless me simply with your existence

🥺🥺🥺

[dearhaos]

the complete eri guidebook (2023) full version under the cut ♡ pdf ver. happy birthday @xiaojuun !! &lt;3

credits. with the help of: meg (@hozierbyrne) // brina (@aquablues) // aléks (@possession1981) // vianey (@souladies) // lili (@ninqz) // aweks (@awek-s) // miha (@jaebeomtual) // rachel (@gnanii) // mare (@dongkwan) // ro (@sunghanbin) // rosie (@kimjiwoong) // lulu (@fushigojos) // sofi (@yukuz) graphics: gift boxes // broccoli // orange fruit watercolor // lip print textures // notion-style scribbles // healthcare vector icons // human anatomy icons // film cutouts pack // 3d travel icons // drinks vector icon set // coffee outline illustration pack // baby vector icon pack

[laquilasse]

i LOVE your art so much!!! been following since early 2020 because of your ace attorney art and its still such a joy to see new art from you of any kind, i love how expressive you draw characters!! also i love your mob psycho 100 art, i really like the way you draw ritsu!!

awwaaaa thank you so much <333 things have been really really rough for me lately, but it's genuinely uplifting to remember messages like this

[good-beanswrites]

Hello! I'd like to request "There's an 80% chance of this working out" from List 5 with Mahiru and Mikoto! Horoscope Girl and Tarot Boy...what will they do...

Ooh this one was so fun, thank you!! It was really neat learning about tarot :0 (It'll take a bit longer, but I got carried away with the idea and also started writing something of Mikoto doing a reading for Fuuta hehe). It always makes me sad that Mahiru doesn’t trust Mikoto at first, so it was really fun to picture them bonding over things like this during T1! I never thought of them having that in common and my mind has been opened to this duo asdfsdfds

“Alright, I’m going to need you to manifest your energy as hard as you can.”

Mahiru squeezed her eyes shut. Her face scrunched up in concentration. She let out a little hum of effort as she poured all her emotions into the card deck under her fingertips.

“Uh… maybe not that hard, Mappi.”

She looked up with a giggle. “Right, right! I’m just so curious!” Well, she was curious about how a tarot reading itself would go, not about what it would tell her. Mahiru was fairly confident of her upcoming verdict, and the cards would only confirm it. So far only one prisoner had been named guilty, and everyone could see he was just a bully. Mahiru was nothing like him. She would be forgiven. She just knew it. 

Mikoto started shuffling the cards. “Are you ready?”

“Oh, yes!”

To be honest, she’d had her suspicions about Mikoto for a while. His smile was too perfect at all hours of the day. (Even someone as cheery as her knew a smile like that couldn’t be consistently real.) She’d seen enough cheaters who chatted as easily as he could with everyone here. His nicknaming habit was a cute one, but she was keeping her eye on how informally he acted with little basis for friendship. She knew for sure he was a dangerous flirt when he’d grabbed her palm to read her fortune, launching into talk of life and love lines. However, none of that meant he was lying about his tarot expertise -- so who was she to refuse his offer to read her cards?

Her eyes glimmered as she watched Mikoto lay out three cards before her. Though he used the same theatrics he had for the others, she was just as entranced. It was just so magical, she thought.

Mikoto circled his palms over the cards. “We’re going to begin by looking at the past and present to get a bit of perspective before we move on to what your future will hold, alright?” He’d already explained that the cards couldn’t read one’s future as much as they offered self-awareness. He said it was all about being in tune with oneself, and the world. She was sure someone like him was already perfectly aligned within himself, but she could admit her heart carried her away at times…

Mahiru held her breath as he flipped the first card. She studied his face for any trace of negativity. Seeing her worry, he slipped back into his usual smile. “For the past, we have the Reversed Page of Cups,” he said. “This suit deals with emotions and intuition.”

Mahiru nodded, excited at the accuracy. Her past certainly had its share of intense feelings. 

“This card in particular may mean emotional insecurity, or immaturity. It could also point to an avoidance of reality, something that’s not being faced head-on.”

She nodded, with a little less excitement this time.

“It also represents a specific person who influences you.” His face lit up, recalling Mahiru’s favorite topic. “Pages can represent a companion! Is there a romantic someone in your life who may have been causing some emotional insecurity?”

Picking up on the way her face paled, he said quickly, “or maybe not! They could be a messenger, or a childlike figure, or…” He reached for the next card. “Moving on, uh, to the present. Ah! This is a really good sign.”

She perked up.

“Here’s Justice. It’s fairly self-explanatory, representing the consequences that follow your actions. It’s about cause and effect, and accountability. It means things are happening according to karma, which is natural.”

He turned over the last card. “And finally, when looking to the future, we’ve got the Two of Swords. Swords deal with the mind -- conflict and communication. That’s… interesting.”

Mahiru’s eyes grew round. “What’s interesting?” She slid the card closer to herself, studying the picture. A blindfolded woman with two swords. There was water, and the moon. Was that bad? Was the woman unhappy? She was all alone. What did that mean?

“Don’t worry,” Mikoto soothed. “It just means you’ll make a big choice. Well, actually, it means you’ll get stuck, so you need to make a choice. I just thought it was funny, we’re here wondering about Es’ decision, but it turns out you’re the one who needs to make a decision.”

“Ah,” she breathed a sigh of relief.

“Now we can look at the big picture. It seems like some of your past problems may have come from emotional issues, so you’ll want to keep an eye on your emotions going forward.” Mahiru shifted. “The fact that we pulled Justice should reassure you about being here. I’ve heard some of the others complain that they don’t belong here, or it’s all a mistake, but this card is showing you that it’s just cause and effect. The events of your life are running their natural course.”

It was true, even she had been unhappy that her actions were being labeled that of a murderer. After all, those were an entirely different breed of people, right? Someone like Fuuta, who was guilty. People like her and Mikoto could never raise a hand to another. It was good to know, then, that this was all meant to be.

“And going forward, you’re gonna want to make sure you’re being decisive. Face your problems head-on, and communicate. If you can do that, things will be alright.” He folded his hands on the table, finished his reading. 

Mahiru thought for a moment. A smile crept onto her face, growing larger and brighter by the second. She clasped her hands together. “That’s wonderful! Thank you so much for doing this. It’s told me everything I need to know.”

“Yeah?” He picked the cards up, shuffling them back into the deck. She pulled a slip of paper from her pocket, pointing to some lines scribbled down.

“Yes. I’ve been jotting down some birthdays, see? I’ve had to make a few guesses until I get more information, but if Es is either a Scorpio or a Virgo… as a Capricorn myself… we’re very compatible, look! Capricorns have excellent communication with both of those signs, and you said that’s what I’ll need to get through this tough decision.” She turned the paper over to reveal more notes. “On top of that, my extraction is scheduled right before my birthday, during Capricorn’s governing period. At that time, things will be aligned more in my favor.”

Mikoto’s eyebrows raised at her notes, impressed. “Wow! You have this all worked out, huh? If that’s the case, you seem very prepared to have a successful interrogation.”

She steepled her fingers. “I’d say there’s an 80% chance of this working out!”

“Definitely!”

He returned her beaming smile. Things would be perfect. Nothing to worry about.

[mjtheartist04]

wanted to do silly research and saw that Genya Pic of him holding the tulip, and fun fact! Tulips [pink specifically 👀] mean love, affection, and good caring! BUT They also mean congratulations or a token of good luck! You mention a headcanon Genya having a green thumb... And I can totally see Genya giving Rika a pink tulip anytime she leaves for a mission or returns due to there meaning ...🥺 Maybe even sends her crow with one in his beak to give her?

AND DID YOU NOT THINK I WOULD CRY WHEN LEAVING THIS IN MY INBOX???…

STOPPPP POOKKIIIEEEE-😭

THE FACT THAT YOU DID RESEARCH ON MY FAVORITE FLOWERS AND YOUR BEAUTIFUL SWEET SELF WROTE THIS LITTLE HEADCANON IN MY INBOX AND IM-

This is official, This is their thing now AND I LOVE YOU FOR THIS!!!🥺💗💗💗

I feel like genya would secretly be the only one in the relationship too really know the meanings behind flowers, and I can totally see him sending flowers to her with the little help from her crow, maybe even with a small note or letter🥺💌…

They are little reminders that she has someone waiting for her back home…and it just determines her even more to continue fighting so that she can make it back into his warm loving embrace again. right where she belongs🥹💕

[takami-takami]

Hi! Feel free to ignore if you don't want to get into it, but I've been feeling a little anxious just wanted to ask directly.

If i write smut for aged-up characters would you rather i not interact with you at all? I of course wouldnt send you asks about it/etc., but i was unsure how far the boundary extends and would hate to make you uncomfy!!

(And no matter the answer, thank you for always being such a compassionate and caring presence!! We're all so happy and grateful you're here)

I think being in the BNHA fandom and all, this definitely is a topic that is unavoidable to talk about so I appreciate you bringing it up!

Aged-up personally makes me uncomfortable— but that doesn't mean I have a vested interest in anything other than curating my own space outside of it. Meaning, when I see aged-up stuff I scroll and I do not permit it via asks or dms in any circumstance, and will never write it. It is okay if you follow/interact

[ssreeder]

i just want to start this by saying you are by far one of my favorite fic authors and reading your series has been, at some points, the only thing i’ve had to look forward to and it always makes my day to see updates. i don’t want this to come off as rushing AT ALL, but i was wondering if you have any guess as to when the next update will be?

again no rush at all and i will be waiting no matter how long it takes 🫶

This was such a sweet ask & I’m so sorry for being so MIA lately. I really wanted to give you like a small insert from next chapter but I couldn’t figure out what to put here lol. The next chapter is done I’ll probably post it later today!! That’s my goal…