#that's alright i don't have to cry on every single song

[pardonmydelays]

IN THE HEIGHTS countdown: 2 DAYS!

song for today:

BENNY: when you’re on your own and suddenly without me will you forget about me? NINA: i couldn’t if i tried...

[soamericn]

𝜗𝜚 𝐈 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐓𝐋𝐄

🐰ྀི₊˚⊹ ‘ truth, dare, spin bottles you know how to ball, i know aristotle. ‘

𝜗𝜚… previous chapter - next chapter

𝜗𝜚… summary , ( f!verstappen!y/n x lando norris ) y/n is the younger sister of world champion max verstappen and an author known for her young adult romance novels despite never being in a relationship herself. lando norris is a formula one driver and is secretly an old friend and a fan of her books since 2020.

𝜗𝜚… faceclaim , brooke flecca

𝜗𝜚… triggers , none I don't think (maybe some cursing)

𝜗𝜚… authors note , thank you so much for 100 followers!! new driver series coming out soon based on an album ( I'll be making a fic for a diff driver based on each song )

🐰ྀི₊˚⊹ masterlist

the drive there had been relatively calm. it wasn’t awkward though, y/n and lando had known each other for years, despite not talking for the past two . the conversation was laced with nostalgia as they reminisced on his rookie year, when she went to every race and he’d been convinced she was his “lucky charm”

the air outside was warm with a flowy cool breeze, australian autumns were always nice and provided a small comfort to the girl who’d appreciated the weather. 

the club they’d gone to, however, was packed and it felt suffocating. y/n was never the one for clubs, she liked people, she liked dancing and music. but putting them together with a mix of alcohol and drugs never was something she enjoyed. (her brother on the other hand was the opposite)

she’d hung back near the bar slowly sipping on a sprite. she never drank alcohol; it was a personal preference, she hated the feeling of being out of control. lando had picked up drinking since the last time they’d saw each other, he was partying his little heart out with their friends now. 

y/n hung back watching him with a sorta fondness in her eyes, the scene was beautiful to her, romanticizing the true happiness he was experiencing to ignore how claustrophobic she was feeling. and how she’d been picking at the skin around her nails and the pit in her stomach. 

lando seemed to almost hear her cry for help, as he left the dance floor and walked over to her. she assumed to order another drink since he’d only had one. “you alright?”

y/n nodded but her mouth spoke differently, forever honest. “I feel like i‘m suffocating a bit, if i’m honest.” she admitted cringing as soon as she said it.

lando understood, but she knew he would. he helped out his hand, “then shall we?”

she furrowed an eyebrow and with pursed lips her eyes flicked up and down to his hand and then back to him. “shall we what?”

“bail.” 

“you were having fun, I'm a grown woman. if I wanna leave, I will.” y/n reassured guilt filling up her throat.

lando shook his head with a small grin that he always seemed to adorn. “oh c’mon I invited you, I'm here to spend time with you anyway.”

hesitantly the dutch girl took his hand and they hurried out of the bar, met with fresh air at last and a chill of the night. it felt a bit silly but y/n thought about writing a book in this moment, she thought about how she’d described the scene, how the two old friends reconnecting would turn into something more. 

she knew it was only a fantasy, all her books were. picturesque moments painted carefully by her hands, nothing that’d happen in real life. especially to her. she’d been confident in herself but she’d come to terms on how unsuccessful her love life had been. she was twenty-three and hadn’t dated a single person, not one out of the eight billion people on this earth.

so she’d lost hope. lando shouldn’t give her hope, she knew no one would ever follow through with it. she had enough self respect to stop trying to chase false dreams. 

they’d been walking down the street of melbourne for a few minutes now in a comfortable silence though she’d been surprised lando managed to keep his mouth shut this long. the sky was clear, the stars brighter than she’d seen in a while, the streets were practically empty and the air smelt of saltwater. 

“where are you taking me?” y/n asked realizing they’d passed lando’s car a couple minutes back. 

lando looked at her, “do you not trust me?” 

she pretended to think about it for a moment before meeting his gaze which remained on her. “haven't seen you in two years, maybe you've changed.”

he really had. he’d changed so much but somehow not at all, “you definitely have.” lando seemed to backtrack in his mind as his words came out as an insult. “in a good way I mean, I’ve just missed you.”

he missed her. maybe it’d been her chronic loneliness talking but she hadn’t heard those words from anyone in years. she looked down at her feet, a small smile growing on her face. “I missed you too, a lot.” 

“why didn’t you call or text, I swear I would’ve thought you died if not for your instagram.” lando wasn’t mad or at least he didn’t sound it, still y/n was embarrassed there was no reason for her to fall off the face of earth like she did, maybe she was just destined to be lonely and needed to prove she could do it. maybe that didn’t need two years to prove, she’d been proving it for twenty-two years.

“I’m not mad, I’m just happy to see my idol again.” he bumped into her shoulder with a smirk.

y/n giggled looking at him unconvinced. “your idol?” 

lando nodded, “I'm your biggest fan, don't you know?”  

“mhm of course I knew, reading august in two days must’ve been a new record.” the day lando commented on her instagram post saying he’d pre-ordered her book, she’d gone to her records of past books. he’d bought every book she’d ever read. every single one. even the special edition covers she’d published. 

never had anyone done a gesture like that for her. sure it might’ve been just because he’d like to read, but y/n wanted to live in a bliss where he did it for her.

watching the view change in front of her as they continued down the street she recognized where they’d been walking to. the beach. once they’d reached the place where the concrete ended and sand started. they both took off their shoes, lando grabbed hers holding them for her. 

the sand was soft to the touch, the beach was empty now and spanned for miles. waves crashed down onto the sand in a nice pattern of noise. it was pitch black except the moon which provided a nice soft light into the water far out. the breeze felt stronger here, y/n crossed her arms struggling to provide warmth to her bare arms.

the pair had taken a seat on the slightly wet part of the sand closer to the water. “it’s beautiful out here.” she commented. “like some shit you’d see in a rom-com.” a genre she knew too much about. 

“is this the part where I tell you you’re the only girl I’ve taken here?” lando said looking at her she could hear the smirk in his voice. 

y/n let out a laugh. “is this the part where I act surprised because you’re known for being such a ‘player’?” 

“I’ll do the whole yawn and arm over shoulder thing if you want, make this really realistic.” lando took off his black hoodie revealing a matching black t-shirt underneath. “here by the way.” 

he handed her the hoodie, “oh I’m fine.” she very clearly was not. she wanted to tell him to stop her some kind of hope, to not make her fall for him as she was now. 

“you so are not, you’re shivering and it’s freaking me out.” y/n wasn’t sure if she should’ve said thank you or been offended by ‘freaking him out’. she took the hoodie, it was soft fabric and smelt of his cologne, which smelt expensive. 

she put the hoodie on, relieved by the warmth she suddenly felt. after a while of chatting and laughing about stupid things like they used to, y/n comfortably rested her head on his shoulder, eyes feeling the need to shut but they wouldn’t like she wanted to be conscious for every moment of this, knowing she’d miss his comfort as soon as it was gone. 

“do you have to wake up for your flight early tomorrow.” he asked, his voice soft and he cautiously started to run his fingers through her hair, until she’d relaxed more and he was more confident with his innocent touches.

“mhm.” she mumbled. 

he carefully brushed the few knots in her hair, “should I take you home then it's getting late.” 

everything in her body was telling her to stay no, to stay there, she never wanted to leave. but her mind spoke differently, she had a book signing tomorrow she couldn’t miss her flight nor could she be too tired. she replied again, more disappointed than before, “yeah probably.”

𝜗𝜚˖ ࣪₊˚ yourusername posted

liked by yourbestfriend, mclaren, oscarpiastri and 856,756 others

yourusername last night in aus was well spent 🫶

tagged | @landonorris

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user34 OH the lando & y/n girlies are screaming rn

yourbestfriend oh my god you finally went outside 🤯

landonorris gotta make sure she gets some vitamin c every once in awhile

user54 i just know twt is going crazy

landonorris hope to see you in japan 🙏🫣

yourusername we’ll see 🤭

maxverstappen as a redbull fan I hope

user89 we are all living for your active era rn

user21 all her f1 posts having lando in them is making me cry they’re everything to me

user54 I’m getting 2019 lando y/n flashbacks

your bsf 🫶 sent you a text!

𝜗𝜚 ˖ ࣪₊˚ yourusername posted a story

seen by maxverstappen, lilymhe, davidmalukas and 645,765 others

landonorris replied to your story

𝜗𝜚 ‧₊˚ ⊹ landonorris posted

liked by maxfewtrell, oscarpiastri, yourusername and 972,342 others

landonorris another race done onto japan we go 😉 ( featuring special guest my celebrity crush )

tagged | @landonorris

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yourusername omg I love when I see my fan pages in the wild 🤭

landonorris ok babe don’t push it 🥰

user53 babe?!!!

user76 they’re so in love it hurts

user32 getting his first podium of the season while she’s there she really is his lucky charm

user98 HIS LUCKY CHARM 😭😭

mclaren y/n should come to more races best race result so far nice job!

user43 even mclaren loves them 🙏

user58 their actually my faves

carlossainz I think I’m your idol actually 🤔

landonorris whatever helps you sleep at night

𝜗𝜚… tags , @whitcferrari @cedarbcws @c-losur3 @lclitaa @forurforeverwinter @stinkyjax @littlexscarletxwitch @spideybv28 @ijustgomessitupx

[hwaslayer]

love you in slow motion (psh) | one.

♡ spotify playlist | series masterlist ♡

—summary: seonghwa will go through hell and back for you, as long as he can continue to see that smile on your face. because to him, that smile feels like a rainbow after the rain, the warmth of the sun on a winter day. because to him, you’re more than just his bestfriend—you’re love. even though everyone seems to see that except you.

—pairing: park seonghwa x f!reader

—genre: (18+ - minors dni) bestfriends to lovers | fluff, angst, eventual smut

—word count: 5.7k

—chapter warning: cussing/mature language, hints of a toxic relationship & ex-bf, mentions of a broken family and death, just a good ol' intro to hwa and oc + their dynamic + their family dynamics, buried feelings and overthinking!!

"Seonghwa?" Your cousin, Soyeon, calls for him on the other line. Soyeon rarely ever calls Seonghwa, but when she does, it's usually for good reason.

"Soyeon, what's up?" Seonghwa says, hand on his hip as he tries to regulate his breathing after a late night boxing session with Wooyoung and Hongjoong.

"Y/N said she would be home earlier, but she hasn't been. Yaya's worried, I'm worried. It's pouring outside." She says frantically. He sighs, stomach slightly dropping at the statement.

"Okay, where did she go last? I haven't heard from her since earlier this morning." Soyeon lets out a hefty sigh.

"Of course she wouldn't tell you. She was with Mingi." She says sarcastically, knowing Seonghwa would be upset with you for giving in, yet once again. Seonghwa had no issues giving you the 'I told you so' every single time you've been with your shitty ex-boyfriend. He always makes you cry, and it never fails. He doesn't understand why the fuck you keep running back to him. So to Seonghwa, it's not surprising that you kept this from him. Doesn't stop him from pinching the bridge of his nose before nodding, though.

"Alright, I'll find her. Don't worry."

"Thank you. Seriously. When you see her, you better tell her to stop seeing that fucking asshole. All he does is treat her like shit."

"Yeah, I know. Are you and Junseo home now?"

"Yeah, we are. We were gonna go to Yaya's but she told me to call you first before anything."

"Good, stay put. I'll take care of it and text you. She won't be far."

"God, such a headache. Thank you, Seonghwa."

"Course." He sighs as he ends the call, tossing his phone onto his duffle bag before un-doing the wrap around his hands. 

"Done already?" Wooyoung asks, making Hongjoong shift his attention to the platinum blonde while they stand near the bag.

"I gotta go find Y/N."

"What? What happened?"

"Who knows, she was with Mingi."

"Dude is always bad news." Hongjoong chimes in, watching as Seonghwa throws his hoodie on and slings the duffle bag strap over his shoulder.

"Tell me about it." Seonghwa rolls his eyes and shakes his head. "I'll see you guys tomorrow."

"Text us when you're all good. Hope she's okay."

"She's fine. Just needa get her out of this rain." He says, giving them one last wave as he walks out of the studio and down the steps. Soyeon is right; the rain has picked up over the last few hours, creating huge puddles near the sidewalks and curbs due to the intensity. The stream of water makes a loud noise as it falls into the drain nearby, the loud pour of the rainfall echoing throughout the empty street. Seonghwa drags the hood over his head, doing a slight jog to his parked car on the side of the studio. Luckily for him, he knows where Song Mingi lives. Luckily for him, this town isn't that big and you couldn't have gotten far.

Luckily for him, he's right.

He finds you walking about two blocks away from Mingi's place, just getting ready to turn the corner to lord knows where. He slowly drives alongside of you, rolling down his passenger window to peak over at you. He's glad he found you when he did because you have a flimsy hoodie and leggings on, the hood completely drenched and barely doing anything to protect you from this rain.

"What are you doing, Seonghwa?" You ask, eyes glued forward as you continue to walk.

"What does it look like? Get in, you're gonna get sick." You squint your eyes at him as you continue to walk. "Y/N."

"How did you even know where to find me?"

"It's not hard to figure out when you're with Mingi." He quickly glances at the street ahead, making sure there are no oncoming cars or passengers in the way. "Plus, Soyeon called. Her and Yaya are worried because you told them you'd be home earlier."

"Of course." You mumble.

"Y/N, get inside and stop being stubborn."

"Seonghwa—" He starts to obnoxiously honk his horn on the quiet street, making your eyes widen at him. You continuously tell him to stop and to quit being so loud, however, his efforts don't stop. "Park Seonghwa, what the fuck! Fine!" You groan loudly, quickly opening the door when he stops the car. You plop yourself onto the seat, glaring at him. "Happy?!"

"Not really, but at least you're in the car." He locks the doors and turns up the heat, driving off to his 1 bedroom apartment. "You can stay at mine for tonight so you don't stress out Yaya." He keeps his eyes on the road, thoughts shifting to your grandma and how worried she might be right now.

"She won't even be that—"

"She sure as hell will, Y/N. Besides, who the hell wants to argue with you this late at night? It's almost 1am. Knowing your ass and how you never listen, even though you should." He sighs. "I'll take you home tomorrow morning before I head to work."

"Whatever." You cross your arms, still feeling cold and uncomfortable after being in the rain.

"Why were you walking in the rain?" He asks, most definitely knowing the answer already. Your nights with Mingi always end on some toxic shit, all this yelling and back and forth— arguing over empty promises and issues from the past.

And for what? The dude is never gonna change. Seonghwa isn't sure what the hell you're holding out hope for. 

"I'll tell you if you spare me the 'I told you so.'" He shakes his head.

"Can't promise."

"Then you don't get shit from me." 

"Why do you let him do this to you?"

"Wow, that's actually worse than an 'I told you so.'"

"I'm being serious." He glances at you with a very mixed expression, mainly serious and worrisome tones.

"I don't know, okay. I wish I could tell you." It's silent for a minute, the only sounds filling the car are the rain pounding against the windshield and the heat on high. 

The thing about Seonghwa being your bestfriend of 16 years is the fact that you can always rely on him to be there no matter what. He's always so, so good to you; always so caring, so supportive and so protective. You've never had to ask Seonghwa for anything because he always gives, and is always ready to give. Just like tonight, when he shouldn't be here but he is. 

He had been yours, just as you had been his since the beginning.

Sometimes, it's easy to believe you don't deserve someone like Seonghwa by your side.

You met this adorably shy, sweet kid when he was introduced to your class as a new transfer in the 3rd grade, most kids in your class politely saying hello but going about their own business afterwards. You, though, had stuck around to show Seonghwa his new school and to eat with him. Since then, your relationship had flourished. His dad had become bestfriends with your own dad, the two of you always going on family trips together, hanging out at each other's homes, going to the same schools onward— Seonghwa was always there, you were always there. He had seen you through your very best, seen you through your very worst. Was there during your highs, was there during your lows. Knows exactly how to push you right to the very edge, but also knows how to make up for his dumb mistakes. Knows exactly how to handle you, attitude, temper and all, knows exactly what makes you happy, what makes you sad.

He knows you like the back of his hand.

Probably better than you know yourself.

Seonghwa became the golden child though, you know? He had loving parents who supported him through everything. He was a superb student [a teacher's pet, if you may], an athlete, a prodigy; always winning numerous awards and medals throughout his academic and athletic career. He had countless talents and a positive energy that people admired him for, though shy and timid in the beginning. He got along well with people and was the ultimate charmer. Attractive, had his way with the ladies— albeit, he can be an idiot when he thinks with his dick from time to time and not his brain. But nonetheless, Seonghwa is Seonghwa. He would never intentionally hurt a soul, would never intentionally give people what they didn't deserve. To be clear though, Seonghwa has his fair share of mistakes and fuck-ups, but in the end, he would always apologize when in the wrong and make up for his actions. While you, on the other hand, were his polar opposite and struggled to find your place in this crazy, crazy world.

You had never met your biological mother, and your dad had spent majority of your earlier years working graveyard to keep food on the table, to keep sending you to a good school. You spent most of your childhood growing up at Yaya's house, where your dad's sister and her family lived for awhile. That's how your older cousin Soyeon became the sister you've never had, somebody else you could rely on, fight with and experience the ups and downs with. Things were good, and they were good for awhile until you lost your dad to a rare and sudden illness.

Then, things went downhill for you.

You continued to stay at Yaya's, only having her, Soyeon and her family, Seonghwa and his family by your side. You began to push people away, you got into trouble and made dumb mistakes that hurt your loved ones more times than you'd like to admit. You had your moments where you acted solely on feelings instead of being rational. You had no filter, not being afraid of telling people if they were wrong even if it meant hurting their feelings to no end. You no longer got along well with most people, finding it hard to vibe well with majority of the crowd. No longer caring about what was in the know, what was trending; was incredibly selective about who you gave your time and effort to in fear of losing more loved ones dear to your heart.

Without Seonghwa at your side, you're not sure where you'd be. Because truly, if it wasn't for him, you don't think you would have continued to try. He was the only thing that remained constant in your life, one of the only people who continued to show you genuine care and love despite your flaws and all.

"Have you eaten?" He suddenly speaks and changes the topic, not wanting to upset you any more than you already are.

"I'm not hungry."

"You need to eat something." You don't respond. "Mom made some kimbap today, I can set some aside for you."

"Thanks." You say softly, watching as the car finally drives into the familiar apartment complex. Seonghwa turns the wheel with one hand, pulling into his assigned parking spot before shutting off the car. He lets out a sigh before looking over at you, noticing you're still in your sad, sulky position in the passenger seat.

"Ready? Or should we just sleep in here tonight?" You slowly turn and glare at him, mocking him before answering dramatically— knowing it's the most childish thing you can do right now, especially after Seonghwa took the time to find you and pick you up in this rain.

"Why don't you just leave me here?"

"Good with me. At least I don't have to lend you any more of my clothes and have you sleeping on my couch. Matter of fact, more kimbap for me." He says, stepping out of the car, keys rattling in his pocket as he turns to shut his car door. He continues to walk without worry because he knows the shit you pull.

You'll end up following him.

He doesn't even have to turn over his shoulder to make sure you do. He hears the car door slam after a few minutes, and he smirks a bit to himself before locking the car using the key fob in his pocket.

"You really have to slam my car door like that?" He asks, slightly looking over his shoulder before climbing up the steps.

"Sorry." You mumble, pathetically following your bestfriend with your arms crossed tightly against your chest. He unlocks his door and waits for you to make it up the steps, letting you step in and out of your shoes first before following you inside. He tosses his keys onto the entryway table before walking into the kitchen and pulling out his phone to text Soyeon that you were safe with him for the night.

"You can go shower first. Just take whatever you want from my closet." He says, eyes focused on the bag of kimbap his mom had dropped off earlier in the day. You simply nod and head straight to his closet, grabbing some pajama pants and a longsleeve. You toss your clothes into the bathroom sink, mentally making a note to ask Seonghwa if you can throw in a load of his laundry with your clothes. The last thing you wanna do is make a mess in Seonghwa's super clean apartment, let alone drag home some wet clothes from the night prior.

The shower you take is short, but relaxing. You let the hot water beat down on you, thoroughly scrubbing and scratching every inch of your body, your scalp. When you finish, you lather some lotion and pad back out to his living room. Seonghwa glances up, watching as you come towards him with his long pajama pants and a long sleeve with sleeves that falls past your hands. He thinks you're the cutest thing he has ever seen [especially in his clothes], but he subtly bites onto his bottom lip to suppress the smile forming at his lips.

"Can I do some of your laundry so I can wash my clothes? They're just sitting in your bathroom sink." He shrugs.

"Don't worry about it, I'll toss it in there before I hop into the shower." He slides a small plate on the counter of his kitchen island bar area, before handing you a hot cup of green tea. "Eat at least one." You nod, watching as he washes his hands and begins to make his way to the bathroom. You're hungrier than you thought, popping in all the pieces of kimbap Seonghwa prepared for you before downing the green tea. In the end, you feel full, satisfied.

Content.

Warm.

After a good thirty minutes, Seonghwa is out of the shower and tossing the load into the dryer. He's ruffling his semi-dry hair as he brings out a thick blanket for you, glancing at the random Cars movie playing on the tv.

"Here." He says. "You finished eating?"

"Mhm."

"Okay. I'm gonna go to bed then." He turns to head into his room.

"Hwa, can't you just sleep out here with me?" You point at the free part of his L-shaped sectional couch.

"Why, when I have a perfectly comfortable bed to sleep on in here?" He points to his room, but you pout.

"But, you also have an amazing couch that you can share with your bestfriend."

"You snore and you move around too much."

"I do not, and you'd be on that side of the couch anyway!" You furrow your brows. "You snore, too!"

"Not as loud as you, sounding like you belong in that Cars movie." He glances at the tv screen while making the dumb joke, and you groan.

"Okay, fine. Whatever." You succumb to defeat and wave the white flag. "I just don't necessarily wanna be alone."

"You're not, I'm right here."

"Pichu." Ah, there it is. That stupid nickname he's painfully grown to adore after you've told him time and time again that he looks just like the pokemon. He sighs, realizing you probably won't let this up. On top of that, he knows he can't say no to you regarding most things. So, he drags himself into his room and rips off his duvet comforter from the bed to bring with him into the living room. He sets himself up on one section of the couch, while you take up the other— heads meeting at the corner.

"The moment you rip out a big snore, I'm leaving you out here." He warns and you snort.

"You're a dick. I don't even snore like that."

"And how would you know, sleeping beauty?" He looks at you, heart content with the way you happily look at him from your side of the couch. You have no rebuttal though, so he shuts off the tv and rests his hand on the back of his head while closing his eyes. "Thought so. Get some sleep, it's getting late." He hears you rustling underneath your own blankets, head gently knocking onto the side of his that makes him suck his teeth. "Y/N." He groans with a whiney tone. "This is what I mean."

"Sorry, sorry." You pout, rubbing the side of his head. "I'm good now." You mumble underneath the blankets as you settle, satisfied with your warm and bundled position. You can hear Seonghwa's soft breathing behind you, signaling that he'll probably fall asleep soon [and quick, too]. "Hwa?" You softly call for him one last time.

"Hm?" He hums.

"Thank you." You pause. "For everything."

"You know I care about you more than anything, right?" He says, close to a whisper. "You deserve way better."

"Yeah." Is all you respond with before closing your eyes, hoping to finally be at peace for the remainder of the night. "Love you, pichu." You say sleepily.

"Love you, too." He feels the statement tug at his heart strings because Seonghwa does love you, he has loved you for years. Been in love with you for years. But you were always the most important, this dynamic and relationship was the most important, that he's learned to suppress and live with it— even though at times, he feels like he gives it away pretty easily, or lets his emotions get to the best of him. 

Everyone can tell. 

Everyone knows. 

Everyone but you. 

Surprisingly, you do fall asleep before Seonghwa. He can't help but peek from his peripherals, noticing your steady breathing under the covers. Your head is barely poking out from the covers, making Seonghwa smile to himself. He settles a little closer to you, top of your head tucked near the crook of his neck as he slightly turns towards your side and finally shuts his eyes to get some sleep.

When you wake up the following morning, it's because Seonghwa's cussing to himself as he runs to grab his ringing phone on the island counter. His eyes quickly dart to you as he snatches the phone and answers the call, noticing you're starting to wake up.

"Sorry, Y/N." He apologizes and you let out a small squeak as you stretch and shake your head.

"It's okay, Hwa. Should probably get up anyway." You rub at your eyes, watching as he paces back into his room to finish getting ready for work. He's apparently talking to Wooyoung, agreeing to pick the guy up after bringing you home since they work at the same place— two athletic trainers for the men's sports teams at one of the universities in town, Wooyoung and Seonghwa mainly taking care of the football and basketball teams, popping into other sports if the help is urgently needed. They've both worked really hard to earn their current positions, being two of the leads who focus on training, treatment and rehabilitating their athletes at homebase, and only participating in a few quick trips for away games if asked.

As you stand and start to fold the blanket, you catch sight of how tired Seonghwa looks and you feel terrible. You know Seonghwa loves to test his limits, working out late after his shifts and barely getting 8 hours of sleep right before a busy day of tending to athletes. Despite your nagging and lecturing him on getting more rest, Hwa has gotten used to doing things this way.

However, part of you still feels guilty that he doesn't look as bright and alert this morning because of you. Because you needed more saving, because you chose to be stubborn and listen to Mingi even though he hasn't given you a reason to trust him since you've broken up.

"I didn't mean to wake you so early."

"I mean, you do have to leave soon, don't you?" You check the clock, peeping the current time as 8:27am. "Isn't this really late for you, actually?" Especially during the season, Seonghwa is always at work by 6AM, leaving super late in the afternoon. Off-season is a little easier for him, being that practice schedules are spread out due to sharing space with other sports/teams.

"Not for today. The team is lifting right now, I need to work on some rehab reports first before training and practice later today." You nod. "Are you good to leave soon then?"

"Of course."

"Okay, let me just grab a few things so we can head out. I need to pick up Wooyoung's lazy ass."

"He's not in to help with lifting?"

"Not anymore. Dude overslept." You snort.

"Why am I not surprised?"

"Director Shin loves him. She would never get him in trouble or scold him."

"She loves you, too." You say.

"Not as much as Wooyoung. She'll bite my head off first before she ever thinks about coming for him." He throws in some food into his duffle bag solely for work. The duffle bag is huge, having the university's name plastered on the side in big, bold letters— followed by his name etched onto the corner with his athletic training certification. "By the way." He points at your neatly folded, washed clothes on the coffee table. "Don't forget your clothes."

"Thanks."

"Are you just gonna go home like that?" He eyes his clothes on your figure.

"Yeah, why not?" He shrugs.

"Alright then. Let's go." He pats himself down to double check that he has everything on him before heading out of the door. You lazily follow behind after slipping into your sneakers, having to roll up Seonghwa's pajama pants so that they don't reach the floor and get dirty. You plop into the passenger's seat with your clothes on your lap, rubbing at your eyes once situated. "You didn't have to get up so early. I technically don't need to be there until 10."

"It's fine, Hwa."

"Did you tell Yaya we were on the way?"

"No, I'll just surprise her when I get there." You smile and he shakes his head.

"You need to stop worrying your grandma and your cousin."

"I'm not even doing anything!"

"You're not? Then, what was last night?" He glances at you then lets out a small scoff. "Exactly. And please stop running back to Mingi. That dude isn't gonna change, and you know that. All he does is make you upset and I can't stand it. You two aren't good for each other."

"I hear you." You say lowly, head leaning against the passenger window.

"I'm sorry." He lets out a breath, genuinely just worried about you and your wellbeing. "I don't mean to do this so early, but I just get worried about you." He ruffles your hair a bit, causing a small smile to creep up on the corners of your lips.

"It's okay. I need to hear it." He chuckles.

"Yeah, you do. You're such a fucking headache." He jokes. "But you're important to me, and all I want is for you to be happy." He pinches your cheeks, making you scrunch your nose.

"Thanks Hwa." He looks at you while posted at a stop light, admiring the way you scrunch your nose and let out a little giggle. That's how he likes to see you. Not upset, sad, or crying. Especially over Song Mingi.

The drive to your house isn't too far, or at least, it never feels too far since you and Seonghwa always engage in conversations about various things while in the car. He pulls into Yaya's driveway, parking right next to Soyeon's car. You occupy the tiny detached in-law suite in the corner of the backyard, so Seonghwa isn't surprised when you try to scurry to the backyard to avoid Yaya and Soyeon.

"She's here!" He yells and points at you.

"You're a pain in the fucking ass, Park." You glare at him while you simultaneously hear Yaya telling you to come into the house and to not even think about running into the backyard.

"Oh, Yaya! Miss damsel in distress just walked in."

"Y/N. You should've called or texted. We were worried when we didn't hear from you." Yaya looks at you disappointingly while whipping up some breakfast.

"Sorry." You mumble as Seonghwa brushes past you to kiss ass to Yaya.

"Always needing her bestfriend to come and save the day." Soyeon says sarcastically before crossing his arms. "Seriously, what the hell would you do without Hwa? And why the hell didn't you make it home in time or text to let us know you'd be late?"

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Hi to you too." You squint at her. "He was supposed to bring me home but we got into another stupid fight, that's all." You roll your eyes before glancing at the empty luggages she has next to her.

"So, he just let you walk in the rain? What a fucking dick."

"Language." Yaya warns, glaring at the two of you from the kitchen next to Seonghwa, who is quickly peeling a banana he took from the fruit basket.

"Where are you going?" You nod at the luggages.

"Me and Junseo are heading to Japan in a few days." She smiles. "We're way overdue for our anniversary vacation. Meaning, you're gonna have to man the restaurant." You groan. "And watch Charli? Pretty please." She pleads in a sweet tone, knowing you'll always do anything for their 3 year old daughter.

"Seriously?!"

"Charli loves staying with you and Yaya! And all you have to do for the restaurant is make sure everything runs smoothly and be the cute waitress that you already are! It's nothing you haven't done! Plus, Yoongi and Jini will be there, and Charli will be in preschool for the most part." At this point, you whine [moreso about maintaining the restaurant] while Soyeon continues to check the list on her phone.

"Speaking of the restaurant, are you free tonight?" Seonghwa chimes in, looking at his phone.

"I don't know, depends on my boss here." You glare at Soyeon before looking back at Seonghwa. "Why?"

"San is back home so we're going out to the bar."

"Excuse me?!" You yell. "What the fuck!"

"Hey!" Yaya glares at you again. "Say that word one more time in my house."

"Okay, I'm sorry!" You point at Seonghwa. "But, you! Why didn't you tell me about Sannie coming back?!"

"How could I? You were too busy sulking over Mingi." He says, furrowing his brows with a cheek full of banana. Soyeon snorts and shakes her head, making you glare at the both of them.

"Ha-ha very funny. You didn't think you could tell me any other day?"

"Well, he wasn't even supposed to be coming back until next week. But he just texted us saying he decided to come back early and that he's already settled at the condo his uncle owns."

"Why aren't I getting these texts?" Seonghwa smirks and flicks your chin with his finger.

"Because boys need to talk about boy things."

"Oh whatever, it's not like any of you are getting any—"

"Seonghwa, please. Tell that girl to stop talking like that." Yaya pleads for him to tell you to keep it quiet. He chuckles a bit before looking at you pointedly, tapping the tip of your nose.

"Stop that." He smiles down at you. "And who said we weren't?"

"Please, all you guys do is yell while playing FIFA and Mario Party." You sigh. "Anyway, I'm going back to sleep for a bit. I'll come in for an earlier shift at the restaurant so that I can see Sannie." You direct the statement at Soyeon and all she does is nod.

"Pick you up afterwards then?"

"Ah, it's okay. Usual bar, right?" He nods. "I'll just bus over." You tap his chest. "Thanks pichu, see you later. Have fun at work!" At this point, Yaya is walking towards Soyeon and Seonghwa, hands placed on her hips as she observes you skipping to your in-law suite.

"Hwa." Yaya tugs on his arm before he can help Soyeon pack the large luggages in her trunk and head out to pick up Wooyoung.

"Hm?"

"It should just be you two." She pouts, making Seonghwa laugh. Time and time again, Yaya has always pushed the 'you and Seonghwa' agenda, stating that you two were meant to be together. And Seonghwa doesn't mind, he always laughs about it. He kinda likes that Yaya [everyone, really] thinks so, and if things were easy, he'd make it happen without question. But things aren't— because there's always that voice in the back of his head that tells him he needs to leave things as they are or else everything will be ruined.

He doesn't want that.

He would rather bury his feelings than lose you.

There's no way you'd go that route with him. You've made it clear to everyone that Seonghwa was your bestfriend and your bestfriend only. That people need to quit shoving the idea down your throat because you could never; he'd be lying if he said it didn't hurt to hear it.

"Yaya, you already know the answer to that." He says anyway and she pouts even more, leaning her head against his firm bicep.

"But you're the only one who knows how to handle her. She's such a handful but you've always stayed by her side."

"Mm, I don't think I necessarily had a choice." Yaya chuckles and gently swats his arm playfully.

"You two should just kiss and get married."

"Kiss and get married? Wow. What a plan." Soyeon says sarcastically, making Seonghwa laugh.

"No can do with that one." He places a small kiss on the top of her head before helping Soyeon with the last large luggage. "I gotta pick up Wooyoung and head to work. Text or call me if you need me." Seonghwa says.

"Make sure my baby cousin doesn't do anything reckless tonight when she's out with you guys? Like, I don't know, run to Mingi while drunk?" Seonghwa shakes his head at Soyeon's response.

"Won't let her out of my sight." He waves one last goodbye before settling into his car and driving off.

It's 20 minutes to Wooyoung's apartment, and another 15 to the university from there. When he arrives, Wooyoung tosses his own duffle bag in the back and plops into the passenger's seat before slouching into it.

"Did you find babygirl?" Wooyoung asks, making Seonghwa furrow his brows at him.

"Yes I did, and stop calling her that."

"Why, are you jealous? You can't gatekeep Y/N to yourself. I'm close to her, too." Wooyoung smirks.

"Shut up before I make you walk to work." Seonghwa glares at him. "It's not even that, it's just weird."

"Why is it weird?"

"Because it is."

"Because you love her?"

"Get the hell out—"

"I'm sorry! I'm kidding!" Wooyoung says in a high-pitched tone before laughing. "But, really, it's not weird."

"Yes, it is."

"She loves it and she's used to it. Therefore, I'll keep using it. Resting my case, your honor." Wooyoung snorts. "What happened last night anyway?"

"I don't know, she got into a fight with Mingi and walked out."

"He didn't come after her? It was pouring."

"Nope. She was gonna walk to.. I don't know, actually. She was just walking in the rain."

"That's not okay." Wooyoung sucks his teeth and does a slight head tilt. "They're toxic as hell to each other." Seonghwa shrugs.

"I know. I tried to tell her but at a certain point, that's all I can do. It gets really hard to control someone's behavior and police their actions."

"Can I ask you something?" Wooyoung looks at him with a small smile. "I'm genuinely curious."

"What?" 

"Why haven't you made your move on Y/N? Your feelings for her have always been obvious."

"Have they? Seems like she's the only one who hasn't seen it." Wooyoung shrugs.

"Yeah. I mean, you drop everything— and I mean everything— for her without question. And you get all affectionate with her!" His tone raises a bit. "You hate initiating affection! If that ain't love.." Wooyoung tilts his head again and squints at Seonghwa.

"She's my bestfriend. All of that happens naturally."

"It's not just that, and you know it. I know people really do put their bestfriends on a pedestal, but you put babygirl before anyone and anything. Even yourself." Seonghwa slightly winces at the Wooyoung's nickname before shaking his head.

"Not true."

"Very true. Look, dude. It's not bad, but I do hope you leave some space for yourself. I know she would never intentionally hurt you, but it still doesn't eliminate the possibility of getting hurt at some point. I don't want that to happen, especially if you've poured everything in her over these years." Seonghwa lets out a breath and pauses for a moment because for once, Wooyoung makes sense. And he's right. He has poured everything in you, continues to pour everything in you very willingly— sometimes, he doesn't even realize he's doing it. Sometimes, he doesn't even realize he's putting you before everything, that he's dropping everything for you.

Hell, it's even to the point where he can't even date properly and sleeps around from time to time to let out steam. It's because he just feels this attachment to you; an attachment past being your bestfriend— like some thread of hope he holds onto, thinking that some day, you'll see him in that light.

Someone who could genuinely, deeply and strongly love you, care for you, support you, with no boundaries.

"I know."

"Why don't you just tell her? You know, be honest." Wooyoung shrugs. 

"I don't wanna lose her, and I'm afraid I will if I do. I'm afraid I'll fuck everything up between us and change the dynamic just because I wanted to be selfish."

"I don't think you'd lose her. I'm sure she wouldn't let that change anything between the two of you, either. And why don't you think she'd go for it?"

"I just don't think she would."

"Maybe she's thinking the same way as you." Wooyoung sees the university in sight and starts to loosen himself up, getting ready to head out of the door as soon as Seonghwa pulls into a spot. "I think you should go for it, Hwa. You can't live like this forever. You love her, she should know. And if things don't work out, I doubt she'll let that change things between you two. You two understand each other well, and you both make sense together."

"Mm, yeah. Thanks." Seonghwa gives him a pursed smile before Wooyoung slips off his seatbelt and smiles.

"Guess that means I can tag along again tomorrow?" Seonghwa rolls his eyes and steps out of the car before slamming his door.

"I'll think about it, lazy ass."

♡ taglist: @hwasbabygirl @fairyofhueningkai @chngbnwf @tinyteezer @everyonewooeverywhere @pearbunny @mxnsxngie @starhwahwa @woosmaid @cheolliehugs @asjkdk @bintificreads @interweab

[rottenpumpkin13]

SAGZC are taking a math test. What happens then?

The SOLDIERs + Cloud Take A Math Test - Who's Doing What

• Angeal came prepared because he had been studying for days. He's confident in his abilities and is ready to ace this test!

• Genesis sits beside Angeal because he plans to cheat.

Zack: Alright! Let's do this! *opens the math test* WHY ARE THERE LETTERS? WHAT THE FUCK?

• Sephiroth isn't worried at all. The equations are simple enough, and certainly less difficult than the ones Hojo had him master at age 7.

• Cloud doesn't expect to get a good grade. He's never been great at math, so all he hopes for is a peaceful exam and to hopefully not get a 0.

• Zack is crying, the tears are smudging the ink on his test, making him cry harder.

• Zack's crying is disturbing Angeal, who's already stressed as shit because the equations are much harder than he expected. His eyes are wide and bloodshot as he stares at his test, rocking back and forth, gripping his pencil so hard it's bending.

Angeal: No....this can't be....I studied so hard....

• Angeal's mental breakdown is disrupting Genesis' cheating, so he whips around and tells Zack to quit sobbing.

Genesis: SHUT UP. YES, MATH HAS X'S AND Y'S.

Zack: But why are they jumbled up???

Genesis: That's a MATRIX.

Zack: WHAT DOES KEANU REEVES HAVE TO DO WITH THIS?

Sephiroth: Why are we talking about Director Reeve right now?

Genesis: Oh my god.

• Sephiroth has never done an easier test. He's effortlessly flying through the equations, humming happily as he solves them. Angeal is enraged.

Sephiroth, while doing the test: What a tedious test. I had been hoping for something more challenging to keep me busy. At this rate, I'll be done in 5 minutes.

Angeal: Hey, Sephiroth?

Sephiroth: Yes?

Angeal: No one gives a shit.

Sephiroth: .....

• Angeal watching Sephiroth's happiness is beneficial for Genesis, who is leaning over and avidly copying everything from Angeal's test.

• Cloud saw his first fraction and gave up. He's now doodling on the back of his test page.

• Zack is having a mental breakdown.

Zack: WHAT'S A QUADRATIC FORMULA? WHEN AM I GOING TO USE THIS IN MY DAILY LIFE??

• Cloud takes out crayons and is now coloring in his drawing.

• Sephiroth loudly proclaims he's finished. Angeal removes his boot and throws it at him.

• Cloud takes out some glitter glue and is peacefully decorating his drawing.

Zack: WHAT'S PI? I DON'T SEE PIE ON THIS TEST. IF I SAW PIE, I WOULDN'T BE CRYING.

• Sephiroth and Angeal are arguing loudly.

Sephiroth: How is it my fault you came unprepared for the exam?

Angeal: You rubbing it in my face is throwing me off! I can't even concentrate on my equations!

Sephiroth: I regret to inform you that from my vantage point I have a clear view of you solving every single equation wrong.

Genesis: SON OF A BITCH I TOLD YOU TO STUDY!

• Genesis gets up, grabs his chair and attacks Angeal with it. Angeal realizes Genesis had been cheating the whole time and is enraged. The two are now fighting.

• Cloud is now coloring in his drawing with scented markers!

• Sephiroth hears a noise and turns around to see Zack choking on his own test, that he shoved into his mouth.

• Sephiroth dives back and starts performing the heimlich maneuver on Zack.

• Angeal is attempting to murder Genesis.

• Cloud is humming Stamp's theme song as he colors his doodle.

• Lazard walks into the room and sees what's going on.

Lazard: Oh my god. Seriously!? Unacceptable. You all fail! Cloud, your exemplary behavior has earned you full marks on this test.

Cloud: Nice!

Angeal: ARE YOU KIDDING ME?

• Zack is still choking.

[thatfreshi]

We, are going to be okay - Astarion x Reader

TW - self-harm

I don't write angst often but this concept just hit me too hard not to try and execute. Astarion tries taking others' perception of him into his own hands, and it comes with a cost.

Recommended Song: What Was I Made For? - Billie Eilish

For as long as you and Astarion have lived together, he starts every day the same. Then again, the both of you are creatures of habit, and you usually wake up soon after he does. Your lover can be found in front of the vanity, trimming away at whatever isn't perfect. He'll take scissors to dead ends, cut his cuticles, occasionally pluck eyebrows if they happen to be out of line. He does this every. Single. Morning.

At this point you're used to waking up to the sound of blades running through hair, a slight hum from Astarion as he focuses on all the details of his perfect appearance. Sometimes he doesn't even notice that you've woken up. Despite not being able to see his reflection, he's quite precise. And you have never once questioned this ritual of his.

You then are awoken by a cry of pain, a most unusual noise at dawn.

"Darling?"

You ask groggily, wondering if perhaps he cut a nail back too far. You wipe the wave of sleep from your eyes, trying to focus over at the vanity.

Red.

Red down his face. Suddenly you're soberly awake, and you stumble out of bed to see what he's done now.

"It's alright my love, just a knick."

Shaking voice, he wipes the blood off his face, and it just pours more. A slash clean across his cheek.

"That is absolutely not a knick!"

You grab a nearby rag and start applying pressure to the cut.

"How in the nine hells did you manage to do this?"

He pauses before answering, and then simply shrugs. You notice he grabs something off the vanity table, quick enough you don't see what.

"Who knows, perhaps we have a poltergeist?"

While Astarion is usually a fantastic liar, he has slowly lost the skill around you. You get suspicious, as he's still shaking from the wound. Gazing at the table, you notice everything is where he leaves it, in it's nice tidy place. Scissors back in their hiding place.

"Astarion, my love, what are you hiding from me?"

He says nothing, averting his gaze.

"Darling, please, tell me."

You take his hands in yours, bloody rag set aside. He still refuses to make eye contact. Instead, he wriggles his hands out of yours and goes to grab something out of his boot. A dagger. He tosses it on the floor. It's so slick in crimson that some red specks fall on the hardwood floor. Suddenly he chokes up, unable to speak as you keep staring at his dagger.

"Oh my love, my precious one."

You also find yourself at a loss for words, as your throat closes and the tears form at your eyes. You look back up at him. He seems ashamed, embarrassed, frightened by the blade on the floor.

"Why?"

Your voice cracks, almost unable to get the single word out into the air. You retrace your steps back to his hands, squeezing them tight, as if he'll evaporate in your grasp.

"I... I don't know. I just sat down and all of a sudden, there was all this rage, all this sorrow. I can't even see myself and everyone just decides everything they need to know about me based on something I'll never be able to comprehend. A barmaid assuming I'll flirt to get a free drink, a stranger whispering to a confidant whilst eyeing me up and down. This body, it's only ever been a facade, a trap to pull people in, a tainted memory of Cazador's reign. And I thought about upkeeping it once again, and I just-"

He is cut off by another sob. You have no idea what to say. You had no idea he was struggling like this, that he felt so judged.

"It's okay darling, it's okay."

There's nothing. You are filled by the void. You've heard the stories, Astarion going through hell and back. You've been awoken by the nightmares, you've had the long talks about his boundaries, but you never thought he would ever hurt himself. Somehow that twists your heart worse than any stories of vampire lords and monster hunters. But right now, it's not about you pitying him. He needs you.

You wipe at your eyes once more and go to check on his wound. You silently thank the fact that he's as meticulous about sharpening his weapons as he is about everything else. As you dab at the wound again, he tries to speak. You pause, to try and let the words come out. He grabs onto your forearm, holding on as if you're going to disappear.

"Do you think it'll scar?"

You shake your head immediately.

"No, it won't. I'll get whatever healer we have to, I'll pay whoever we need to."

A vampire bite, a cruel poem, he didn't need one more reminder of the past.

"I'm sorry."

You hold his head in your hands, wiping away at the mist falling down his face.

"It's okay. You'll be okay. We, are going to be okay."

He gives you a pain-ridden smile, something unsure resting on his lips, but he trusts you. He trusts that you're there for all of it, the drunken nights in town, the flirtatious glances, the moments where he forgets he's home. He reciprocates your affirmation.

"Okay."

Somehow you feel a little bit better, that you're here for him. It's going to be a lifetime of ups and downs, but you'd only want to share them with him, and he's grateful. The good, the bad, and the ugly, that's what they all say. And you'll be there for all three.

[hannahssimblr]

I’m on my bed, fully clothed, and I cannot remember how I got here. I don’t know if I’m sitting up or lying down, or what is wall and what is ceiling. When I try to turn to my side, the room twists like a funhouse around me, the bed tilting like it's intent to slide me right off it. Am I alone? I think so.

That's my phone, the bright square of light. It lays on the sheets beside my face, and I grab it. Her name is right there. It's intuitive, too easy to find. 

It rings three, four times, and she picks up. “Jude?” She's sleepy. I woke her. 

“I’m sorry Michelle,” I slur, and I mean to be sorry for disturbing her, but she seems to assume that I’m apologising for much more than that.  

She sighs, “I know you are, and I’m sorry too.”

“You’re sorry?”

“Yeah. Are you drunk?”

“Uh huh.” I should likely be sorry for that too. 

“Where are you? Why are you drunk dialling me?” She doesn’t seem annoyed with me, concerned, hopeful, maybe, so I tell her the truth, “I miss you.”

I assume maybe I’ve passed out or somehow hallucinated this entire exchange because she's not responding, but then she sucks in a lungful of air and her voice trembles, “I miss you too, I wish you were here right now.”

“No, I was a bad boyfriend.”

“You weren’t.”

“I was the worst.”

“Not always.”

“...It's hard being on my own.”

“Yeah, for me too. Every single day has been horrible.”

I feel the kind of crushing, exaggerated sadness that I only ever do when I’ve had too much to drink, like I’m tumbling into a pit of despair so deep that the sun will never warm my face again. I can't think of a good reason why I have done this. “Sometimes I don’t want to go to Berlin,” I tell her hoarsely.

“Yeah,” she says, then hesitating like she wants to choose her words carefully, “You know that you don’t have to go, though.”

“I dunno.”

“You could stay in Dublin if you wanted to, It’s not too late. If the thought of leaving makes you too sad.”

That sounds deeply depressing, but being on my own is depressing too, and then I’m so frustrated that I fear I will start crying or something, “I can’t think.”

“You’re just drunk, but I think you’re saying this because it’s what you really mean.”

“Maybe.”

“I love you,” she says, and I hear her sitting up in bed, struck with urgency, “I haven't stopped feeling the same way about you, I still love you, and I want you to stay, if you're even considering it at all then that means-”

“Alright,” A group of guys pass by on the road outside, boisterously chanting some tuneless song and I’m conscious that I, or whoever brought me in here, never closed the curtains. I don't want other men to see me like this, and yet I'm unable to move.

“‘Alright’, as in, you’ll stay?” She says hopefully. 

“No, like, that I heard you.”

“I think we’re supposed to be together.” 

I wonder if she really believes that. Do I believe that? Maybe. “Mm. Maybe I’ll stay,” Sleep pulls at my eyes, which now rest unfocussed on a shimmery patch of sand outside the window. In the distance the waves roar against the shore, a lullaby. Sleep encroaches the corners of my vision and begins to suck me under. 

“Please,” she says, really crying now, “I don’t want to be on my own. I’ve been imagining you finding someone else and falling in love with them and it makes me feel sick.”

“I wouldn’t do that.”

A sniffle, “No?”

“No, I don’t ever think about other people, just you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Never ever ever. You're my girl.”

She sobs gently.

“Shell, I think I’m an idiot.”

“You’re not, you just made a selfish decision. You can still fix it and make it okay.”

My eyes are too heavy and the world is too weird and dizzy looking to keep them open, “Will you forgive me?” I manage with the last of my energy, but I’m too sleepy to listen to her answer. I pass out in three seconds, the phone warm in my palm, the speakers buzzing gently with the sound of her voice.

In the blinding light of the morning, though my head pounds and every colour and pattern is an assault on my senses, before doing another thing, I grab my phone from my pillow to see new messages from Michelle. I don't read any of them.

Hey.

I type.

I was really drunk. Disregard anything I said, I don't even remember what we talked about.

Beginning // Prev // Next

[yawneneteyam]

gorgeous (9) — what can I say?

— GORGEOUS, an avatar smau ( by yawneneteyam ) masterlist

— gorgeous, what can I say ?

the presentation went fine, nothing to worry about. y/n didn't throw up, neteyam didn't cry about whales- it was a success to the two of them. truth be told, the two of them kind of zoned out after they presented. they found a lot more amusement in just chatting up the back than listening to what their classmates had to say.

once class ended, their professor shot them a weary glance- knowing that they hadn't listened to a single word another student had to say. they didn't feel guilty, even though they knew they should've; but they enjoyed each others company too much to not hang off of every word the other said.

neteyam hesitated before speaking once they were outside, was he nervous? "did you want to come back to my place?" y/n took note of the way he shuffled his feet, "I'm taking tuk for ice cream when she's come from school if you wanted to come,"

y/n tried to not let her face light up too much, but it was impossible. he had asked her to come home with him? granted, it was to hang out with his little sister- but y/n would do his laundry or his dishes if it meant she got to spend another minute with neteyam.

"I would love to," she nodded, "means I can finally meet tuk!"

"oh," neteyam laughed, "she's been waiting to meet you, she'll be very excited"

"tuk knows who I am?"

"yeah, of course" neteyam nodded, "kiri talks about you all the time and they know we were partners for an assignment,"

y/n nodded, walking towards the parking lot with neteyam. "I'm honoured to be spoken of in the sully house," she joked.

"you really should be," neteyam chuckled, "right up there with the topics of tuk taking dad's credit card to buy robux and how the mato's bought a new barbecue so we should buy a new barbecue..:" neteyam sighed with a smile, "but we can't afford the barbecue because dad's card has been put on hold because tuk has been buy too many robux,"

y/n couldn't help but laugh, "I'm sorry," she shook her head. neteyam laughed too.

"it's okay," he promised, opening her door for her before heading over to the drivers side of the car, "it's fucking hilarious".

"not to your dad though," y/n gave him a knowing look.

"no," neteyam said with wide eyes, "so when you meet him, definitely don't bring it up,"

y/n laughed as neteyam turned the key in the ignition, "noted," she nodded. neteyam held her gaze for a little longer than he should have before putting his hand behind y/n's headrest- reversing out of the parking lot and heading towards his house.

"y/n, can you come back another night?" tuk held onto y/n's hand as they walked outside to say goodbye to her. neytiri stood at the door watching her youngest, making sure she wasn't going to kick up a fuss once y/n had to leave.

"if neteyam wants me to I can," y/n chuckled, looking over at neteyam who was leaning against his car, waiting for y/n with a smile on his face.

"what if I want you to?" tuk stopped in her tracks.

"alright you," neteyam leaned down and picked tuk up, holding her close to his chest, "go back inside and I'll be home soon, yeah?"

"but you have to promise to ask y/n back," tuk was pouting in her brothers arms, "..please?"

neteyam sighed with a smile, "of course,"

"I would've come over anyway," y/n whispered to tuk. the younger girl looked back to y/n with a big grin. they said goodbye to each other before neytiri called out a farewell. neteyam opening y/n's door for her once again.

"thanks," she mumbled with a shy smile. the drive was almost silent if it wasn't for neteyam's soft humming. "what song is that?" y/n asked.

"my mom wrote it," he only let his eyes flicker to her for a second before returning to the road, "there's a little bit for each kid, my part is the best of course," he shrugged.

"oh yeah?" she laughed.

"yes! is is,"

"that's pretty cool though," y/n told him.

neteyam hummed in agreement, "it's very special to our family,"

small patters of rain began to fall on the windscreen of the car. those patters became heavy fall. as neteyam pulled up to the girls dormitories, it was pouring rain in the cool of the night.

y/n grimaced slightly as she thought about having to run across in the rain, no jacket, no anything to keep her warm. neteyam startled her as he reached over into the backseat of his car.

"here," he handed her a hoodie.

"what's this?"

"a hoodie?"

"why?" she laughed.

"because it's pouring rain?" he looked at her as if it was obvious. y/n looked over the soft maroon fabric, the number twenty-four and his last name was embroidered on the back.

"what's this from?" she asked.

"I run track in the summertime," he said nonchalantly with a shrug.

"you do?" y/n scoffed with a smile, "I didn't know that,"

"there is a lot of things you don't know about me," he grabbed the hoodie back from her and held it open for her. "arms up," he told her. neteyam helped y/n find her way into his jumper, pulling the hood over her head. he laughed as it practically engulfed her, he could barely see her face in the abundance of fabric on her head.

"you gonna be okay to get back?" he asked her, "do you want me to walk you there?"

y/n hummed, "opening my doors for me, offering to walk me back to my room? I guess chivalry isn't dead," she joked.

"neytiri raised me better than that," he smiled.

"she definitely did," y/n nodded in agreement. they both sat in his car, not wanting the other to leave. y/n knew she would have to be the one to go first.

"okay well, I guess I'll see you next week in class?" y/n asked softly.

neteyam slowly nodded, "course, but don't forget you told tuk you would come back soon and that girl can hold a grudge,"

they both laughed together as the rain drops fell onto neteyam's car. "I can't break my promise to tuk," y/n smiled, her hand resting on the door-handle, "I'll see you soon, nete"

"bye y/n"

— gorgeous, what can I say ? I'm back! it's been two days since the last one and lots of people have asked where it's been haha, I am very very glad you like it so much- looking at around 5-6 more chapters!! definitely keep sending in modern!neteyam bf headcanons/concepts- they're so much fun to do together <3 I hope you guys liked the new chapter!

[joels-shitty-puns]

The Key to Your Heart - Track 1

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x Musician!Reader

Summary: After writing your feelings for Pedro into a song, it gains a lot more popularity than expected. Ultimately it brings both criticism and support, with new possibilities around the corner.

Warnings: 18+ only (MDNI). Potential for puns/dad jokes (name of my blog, and the fic) should give that away. This is my first fic which should be its own warning, lol. Also some cursing. Mentions of masturbation (f) maybe more smut later idk. Sadness, reader is pretty depressed. Poor body image. Rude people. Bullying-ish and just lack of support? Anxiety. Age gap! Reader is in her mid 20's, Pedro is current age (48).

Other stuff: Reader is plus sized. AFAB. Inexperienced. Also has a dog, but you can pretend it is another creature probably.

Word Count: 1.9K

Series List: Here!

Thank you for checking it out :) let me know what you think. I made this probably more wordy and personal than I should've... OOF.

The clock was nearing 4 AM when, with a sniffle, you closed the app you were on and clicked the power button on your phone. A single tear ran down your face as you rolled on your side and hoped that maybe in your dreams you could experience the love you craved so desperately. For the past few hours, and every night you didn't have work in the morning, or had free time before bed, you would read fanfiction. You knew people had a lot of poor opinions about fanfic, but the best thing about them is that unlike other stories, you were in these. You could imagine it was you in the story spending time with your favorite characters.

The worst part of fanfiction, however… is when you realize it isn't real and won't ever happen. Sure, you can imagine it, and you can feel the emotions and even give yourself pleasure at the thoughts, but when it wears off, you realize that it's just you. You're alone, and not your mind, nor your hands, can give you what you truly want. What you need.

You aren't so dumb or delusional as to think it's real, or to think you have a chance. If your own mind didn't tell you that enough, your family and friends would remind you plenty. At the mention of your crush, you'd get comments that had a playfulness, or childlike connotation at the idea of you crushing on someone famous. If not that, you'd get pity, or told you should put yourself out there and find someone you actually have a chance with… as if you chose to have these feelings. Why would you choose to fall in love with someone you have no chance with?

For a while, you could pretend it was just a crush and that you couldn't be in love with someone you've never met. But ultimately you accepted that it wasn't true. This isn't the first time, and you're sure it won't be the last. With the previous crush lasting several years, you knew you'd just have to wait it out. 

This time around, the crush was on Pedro Pascal. Current heartthrob of the world, starring in some of the most popular franchises of the time. If people didn't know his name, they certainly knew a character of his; unless they lived under a rock. 

With this information in the back of your mind, the fact that everyone knew him and everyone loved him and he could have anyone he wanted, you sighed, hoping it would finally get through your head, and rolled over to your other side. Unable to sleep, you pulled out your journal to write down your feelings before eventually drifting off, pen in hand.

Letting out a groan, you awoke too few hours later to your dog Skipper crying in your face. "Gotta pee, buddy? Alright.." You climbed out of bed and he spun in a circle before galloping through the house towards the patio door. Humming a song you don't yet know, you sit by the door and think about what you wrote the night before. It wasn't uncommon for you to write songs, and you found it comforting to play instruments and sing your feelings out into the lyrics. Although you often recorded and purchased the copyrights to your music, you never posted it.  Maybe someday…you always told yourself, pondering with the idea of some extra money. 

After letting the dog in, you sat at the piano with last night's journal and wrote a song which spilled your feelings for Pedro. You recorded it and went about your day, but it kept nagging you. Finally, after another sleepless night, you posted it onto some music streaming websites. Using a stage name of just your first nickname, you added the song, which you titled "Imaginary Love." It never mentions Pedro by name, only talking of the strong feelings you have for someone famous that you'll never be with. 

Once that was out of the way, you didn't check your accounts for several days. Eventually, however, you began receiving emails. Radio stations wanted to play your song, record companies wanted to sign you, they wanted an album. Your head swirled, and you agreed to put out an album with other songs you've written, still maintaining your stage identity. I'll just be like Hannah Montana, you thought, with a laugh of disbelief. 

About a month later, you and your music were still a mystery to people. People loved your song. People related to it. But of course, there were critics. Negative impressions spurred about you being childish, immature, naive, and silly. Others just wanted to know the gossip. Who were you? Where did you come from? And WHO were you singing about?!

Trying to ignore the chatter, you noticed a new interview of Pedro being posted, as advertisement for his newest film. Finally something to look forward to and get your mind off of this! Flicking on your television, you broadcast the interview of Pedro from your cell phone. Your heart skipped as you looked at him, his messy brown curls falling near his ears that held his large black framed glasses. His brown eyes twinkled as the interviewer talked to him about his work.

Eventually they broke into more casual conversation, discussing current favorite movies, what he last saw in theaters, what he's binge-watching, last concert he saw, and finally… the current song he can't stop listening to. 

"Oh, man… I can't stop listening to "Imaginary Love," he answered without hesitation, hand on his heart.

Your stomach lurched. Your heart stopped. You forgot how to breathe. What. The. Fuck. Shit shit shit shit shit. This can't. Be real. You rewound the video. This HAS to be a dream. But it wasn't. "Imaginary Love," he said. Oh. Crap. You replayed it several more times, but it didn't make it more real. The interviewer replied "oh… here we go. The song everyone is talking about! I am curious though, what are your thoughts on it? Who do you think it's about?" Pedro's smile faltered a bit at the man's tone, but he remained his usual genuine, sincere self when he answered. "I… I'm also curious about who she is and who the song is about, but I think that ultimately it's up to her whether she decides to reveal that. I think we can all relate to the pain of love, especially unrequited, and I think it's brave of her to share that level of open vulnerability with the world. I can't expect her to share more than what she already has."

Your heart fluttered.

Yet the interviewer continued. "Don't you think it's a little… I dunno… naive? I mean, you get it, you're in show business. The average kid really doesn't have a chance, and even more so, isn't it a little… creepy? The way she's put this guy on a pedestal? Claims she's in love with a man she doesn't even know?"

Pedro's fingers twitched around the base of the microphone, his eyebrows furrowed, and he slowly nodded while pondering his response. I can't watch this anymore.. His pause felt like a lifetime, and you couldn't handle the tension. The interviewer was an ass, but his words were nothing new. He was probably right... You are creepy and naive. You reached for the remote to turn off the television. It had only been a few seconds, but you couldn't bear the potential heartbreak that you knew would come. This is exactly why you haven't revealed yourself or the subject of your lyrics.

Pedro cleared his throat before speaking. "You're right… I am in show business and I get it. I get that in order to get what you truly want in life, we all seem a bit naive. I've spent my life trying to make it as an actor, sometimes struggling if it hadn't been for the help of my friends. I was naive, and I suppose a bit delusional. Obviously this is a bit different though. Unlike jobs, we can't choose who we love. I think we've all had celebrity crushes at some point in our lives."

Your breath was caught in your throat and you could feel tears welling up in your eyes. He doesn't even know you, and he's somehow able to reach into your lyrics to understand exactly how you feel without the judgment or pity you often feel from those who know you personally. And yet… the asshole interviewer kept on. Seriously dude… how long are you going to drag this on? Talk to Pedro about his achievements. Quit ranting. The interview has completely gone off the rails. "Okay.. I gotta ask though.." Ugh what now??! He continued, "this girl is a fan. The only thing she knows is what's made public. She's keeping her identity hidden but doesn’t seem to wonder what her so-called “love” is hiding from the world. Would you, as a celebrity, genuinely consider someone like her, a fan, if she came out and said the song was about you? I mean, would any of you out there? We're not just talking about a normal person, or even a slight fan. We're talking write-a-song-about-him level obsessed."

Pedro answered without hesitation. "Sure I would consider it. You can already feel her emotional vulnerability and passion. I think she's deserving of happiness just like anyone." If only you knew.. It is you, Pedro.. But your negative thoughts filled your consciousness. Like he'd want you.. he's almost twice your age.. look at yourself. He can have anyone he wants. He'd never actually choose you. Look at your blemishes. Your big stomach, flab, and stretch marks. Nobody has ever wanted you. You've never even been kissed, you fool. A grown adult.

You frowned and finished watching the interview, swept away in your self-hatred. You slunk onto the floor, cuddling your dog, seeking the only comfort you're able to receive. This is why I prefer animals, you think. They love you no matter what you look like or who you are.

A few days later, the events of Pedro's interview went viral, spurring both negative and positive responses.

"Pedro Pascal Defends Unknown Artist"

"Mandalorian Actor Slams Interviewer"

"Watch: Pedro Pascal Interview Gets Heated"

The headlines get more and more dramatic, acting as if fist fights broke out or a gun battle ensued. It was all pretty tame. A simple conversation of differing opinions. However… you still couldn't help but feel guilty that he put his own reputation on the line for you in a way. He doesn't even know you. What was in this for him, that he felt the need to defend you?

It was at this moment that you decided to log into Instagram from your stage artist profile. Hopping into the message section, you typed out Pedro Pascal and clicked his profile, writing out a message. "Hi Mr. Pascal! I recently watched your interview and I can't begin to express my gratitude towards you. I feel terribly guilty that this is beginning to weigh on your own image, but I would like to say thank you from the bottom of my heart. Thank you for your defense, thank you for your support of my music, but most importantly, thank you for seeing my lyrics as they were meant to be… from my heart. Thank you for your kindness."

You tapped send and waited with bated breath. After ten minutes of staring at the screen, you decided you needed a break from the internet, dropped your phone, and went for a walk with Skipper.

Meanwhile, from the couch at home, your phone lit up with a notification.

Instagram

Pedro Pascal (pascalispunk): replied to your message

Thanks for reading!! Interested in track 2? Read it here!

[haunted-headset]

wilbur comforting reader after a nightmare? :0

…

(i tried to think of how to elaborate on that but i think i’ll just leave it up to you while my sleepy brain takes over LMAO)

🌙 I've Got You 🌙

a/n: this is such a cute idea wtf

tags: @zuuriell @somebody-v @vibestillaxxx @ax-y10 @joviepog@themonsterunderurmom @ogelizasoot @wilburstan@smolsleepykitten@funnyreally2009@crows-death@dykepunz@aresriiots@0miamor0@defonotval@chipch0p@mazzistar16@unmellowyellowfellow@justalittlebitofchaos@thosecolorfulsheets@vopix@taylors-version-from-the-vault@aine-lasagna@merianakross@veeislost@urfav-sapphic-siren@shazbaz58-blog @wifiatthetrainstation@mcr-pr-fob@shd454@rqvii@idioticion@m0thza@artistphantom @ace-call-me-what-youd-like @lexx-the-gay-rubber-ducky @finleyforevermore @poraphia @radio-to-trenchcoat-demons @mysticalsoot(let me know if u don't or do wanna be tagged!!)

word count: 613 (i need to write longer fics i feel like writing short fics is bad but oh well)

contains: reader having a nightmare, use of Y/N, crying, reader having a panic attack, reader thinking Wilbur left them, reader shows signs of depression & anxiety, reader has self-deprecating thoughts

You had awoken with a gasp as you tried to catch your shaky breath & stop your sobs. It was just a dream. A really, really bad dream.

Wilbur, in the dream, had gotten fed up with you. He had gone on a rant about how much of a terrible partner you were & how you were useless & a waste of skin; it was almost as if he had taken every single thought you'd ever had about yourself, soaked them in vitriol till it was dripping, & then spouted it out to make your ears bleed. It was a fear you always had. Maybe it did happen. Maybe he finally fell out of love with you. Maybe he never loved you. Maybe he--

"No, Y/N, that didn't happen," you whispered to yourself through the sobs. "Wilbur's right next to--" You looked over at where Wilbur was supposed to be in bed.

& he wasn't there.

& that's when all of the panic you've ever felt attacked you like a tsunami. You started hyperventilating & sobbing so hard to the point where you were seeing white & your head felt like it was being slowly drilled into & your brain was being turned to mush. Your heart didn't go one millisecond without beating so hard you swore you could see it beating out of your chest, & you were shaking so hard to the point where somebody could've compared you to a vibrating iPhone & nobody would be able to tell the difference.

In a desperate attempt to calm yourself down, you slowly got up & stumbled over to Wilbur's closet to grab one of his hoodies. You pressed the hoodie to your face as you stumbled back to bed & sobbed harder, the scent of his body wash & cologne, earthy & calming & perfect, still faintly there. What did you do? What did you do to make him leave you? You were aware that you were far from a perfect partner, & you were far from attractive, & maybe he had some sort of realization & decided that there were other, better fish in the sea to catch, leaving you at the bottom of the pond, away from the shiny, attractive fish that he was bound to catch.

"Darling?" his voice rang out & echoed against the walls, causing you to look up.

"Oh my God, honey," Wilbur, lovely, amazing Wilbur, whispered, practically jumping onto the bed to pull you into his lap & wrap his arms around you so tightly to the point where you thought you'd never be able to escape his embrace. Not that you were complaining, of course. "I've got you. You're okay, you're alright."

"Why're we crying? What's going on?" he whispered in your ear, rocking you back & forth & wiping your tears.

"I had a bad dream & I thought you left," you croaked through your sobs.

"Baby, I would never even dream of leaving you," Wilbur said. "You're everything to me. You're the reason I wake up in the morning. You're the reason I write songs & play music. You're the reason I'm still here." He kisses your cheek before continuing, "You're the Tori Spring to my Michael Holdman or whatever his name is."

"Michael Holden," you corrected with a tearful laugh.

He smiled at you. "There's my beautiful baby with their beautiful laugh," he whispered.

"Why weren't you in our room?" you asked.

"I was getting water, lovely," he said. "I wasn't leaving, not at all. I wouldn't even dare to think about it. I'd die without you."

"Promise?" you asked.

He linked his pinky with yours. "Swear on my life."

[fillinforlater]

FEAR----

Male Reader x Huh Yunjin (ft. Chaewon)

Length: 2420 words

Tags: con-non-con kink, change in pov, piss kink, water sports, public sex, choking, gagging, a kinky robbery, humiliation, crying, name calling, missionary, messy make-out, all the bodily fluids, roleplay, dacryphilia maybe, misattribution-of-arousal-kink!Yunjin

TW: cnc kink, water sports (pee), (role)playing with fear

Inspiration: ffs, I have no clue why my brain comes up with these. Maybe I'm just insane? Or stupid? Or too horny for my own good?

(A/N: yeah, I think I will have to take a break after this. Something very different will come up next, but I still need time to write it lol, so please be patient. For those that love these kinks, you're welcome, I won't write them (especially water sports) often.)

"What are you thinking about right now?"

Chaewon’s quiet, tender whisper is calming like a cool breeze in blazing summer heat. It takes you out of your short trance, which you spent gazing at the ring on her finger. You look into her concerned eyes, then towards her blonde friend at the bar. A heavy sigh leaves your lips as you set down the untouched cocktail.

"You know I like the idea," you start your rant, hoping it removes the uncertainty burdening your heart, "and I know you're completely fine with it. But the more I look at her—I just don't know if she knows what she really wants. You get me?"

"I think I do. Hmm,” Chaewon ponders for a second, caressing your palm, "Look, how about we ask her right now."

She turns around and with a wave of her hand she gets her friend's attention. The young woman quickly walks over, a bright, beautiful smile on her features. She stops next to your wife and straightens her postures when she looks at you. Before she can greet you, Chaewon whispers a long message into her ear. It makes her face sweaty and redder with each word.

"So," Chaewon loudly announces at the end of her explanation,"what are you thinking, Yunjin."

"I—"

Yunjin locks eyes with you. Her hands fidget, her upper body tenses up and her breath responds to her increased heartbeat. You can almost see the small muscle in her chest throb. She hesitates, even with Chaewon's reassuring smile and strokes on her back. Before you can speak up however, Yunjin's firm answer catches you by surprise:

"I still want it. I don't know what else to say, but I really want this and I don't care about the dangers."

"Alright," you respond blankly, though slightly in awe of Yunjin's clarity, "I appreciate your trust."

#

It's way past midnight when Yunjin leaves the area around the well-lit HYBE building to walk home. Dark, narrow corridors in between cold, lifeless concrete buildings are her choice, as she is eager to get to her flat quickly. Yunjin will always sacrifice a bit of lighting for effective short cuts. With her cell phone as a flashlight in one hand, her Louis Vuitton bag in the other, she confidently finds her way in this now well-known maze.

At night, she doesn't have to be extra careful about someone noticing her or the song she hums. An unreleased track, self-composed, with lyrics that have meaning to her and the other bandmates. At night, Yunjin is free to sing those words and feel a bit of burden fall from her shoulders.

A gentle breeze makes her blonde hair sway off of her shoulder and the loose jacket flies along with it. Yunjin has to stop in her tracks to adjust the leather garment. It's this time of the year where it's warm enough at night that you don't really need any extra clothes. However, each cold wind reminds Yunjin that it's good to have something on her. She can't allow herself to get sick.

It's also the time of the year where almost every night sky is littered with dazzling stars that dance on their designated spot, billions of miles away. It's a spectacle, each and every single one of them, so similar yet so different. The human eye cannot escape from this beauty, and Yunjin is no different. She stands there, star struck, the white lights dancing on her irises like it’s the parquet of a musical. Yunjin hums the melody to their performance. 

The bushes behind her rustle once. A dark figure shots out from behind them like a lightning bolt. Yunjin gasps and quickly looks behind her shoulder to see a black ski mask right in her face. Her ensuing scream is muted by a cloth forced into her mouth. She tries to escape, but the person is just too fast. Yunjin is grabbed at the top of her dress and forcefully shoved into a nearby wall.

“Money?” the figure asks in a cold, rough tone. Yunjin tenses up when she feels freezing metal run up her exposed thigh. Her eyes tremble in fear, even more so her legs. She is only held upright by the man's hand and his leg trapping her in between dead concrete and death personified. 

The man tears on Yunjin’s dress and groans angrily. Yunjin is too scared to test his patience, so she shakes her head. Her lips lose all their moisture to the cloth in her mouth, but maybe it’s just traveling to her eyes, to her sweat glands and down low.  

“Not even in that bag? Not even at home?” the man continues to ask. He guides the metal object further up, right to Yunjin’s core. A few swipes on her bundle of nerves make the young woman burst out into tears. It’s certainly not a knife that he is holding. The death bringing object right on her most private part makes her flinch, head shaking rapidly. 

The man grabs her face roughly. It’s like a slap he stopped as soon as he felt her skin. It reassures that the cloth won’t fall out of her mouth. The man groans once again. With small kicks against her shoes he forces Yunjin’s feet further apart. He then leans in right next to her ear.

“I know that you know what this is,” he whispers and presses his gun against Yunjin’s pussy, she wails, “and if you don’t tell me where the fuck I can get my money—tell me, or else.”

The flow of Yunjin’s tears is like an endless waterfall. Her hands are pleaing, begging, showing that she has nothing. No possession at hand, no money, maybe the bag is worth something, but the man does not seem interested in that. He wraps one hand around her gentle, fragile throat and slowly pulls out the gun from underneath her dress. She can look right into the barrel. There is a bullet waiting at the back, her name on it. 

This is it. Everything inside her is building up to this moment. Her body reacts the only way it can, the only way it knows how to, the only way she wants to. Instead of the bullet hitting her, the man shoves his knee in between her legs and pushes up. Yunjin screams against the gag, her fingers dig into her attackers back as she starts to pee violently. The clear stream immediately soaks her thin white panties, then runs down her pale, goosebump covered legs and begins to soak her shoes and his pants. The dark spot seems invisible on his dark pants, but he definitely feels and hears Yunjin’s eruption. 

“Bitch, what the—how dare you!” 

The man pulls out his knee and closely watches as the last sprays of Yunjin’s pee cover the dry asphalt below. He doesn’t even notice the gag falling out of Yunjin’s mouth as she makes no attempts to scream for help. She feels like all her dignity is stripped from her and sobs uncontrollably. Snot and salt water with small hints of make-up mess up her beautiful face, but she doesn’t cover it up. She still holds on to the back of this cruel stranger.

“Bitch, you are crazy.”

“Pl-please d-don’t ki-kill me.”

“Shut up,” he snarls and presses his gun against her panties again, “slowly take them off, or else..”

Yunjin’s throat is dry. Her sobs begin to sound like croaks as she leans down and grabs the wet lingerie. In the most embarrassing performance of her lifetime, she drags down her panties, feeling her own clear, barely gold liquid on her skin. She steps out with one leg, then the other, and both times the man kneads her thighs for a short time. Another breeze flies through her hair, but this time she only notices it because of the freezing touch on her wet core.

“Wring it out. With one hand, right onto the street.”

Yunjin closes her eyes as she closes her fist around her panties. They worked like a sponge and now all of her piss shoots out of the gaps in her hand. She is mortified by how the warm liquid feels on her hand. 

“Fuck, you’re insane,” the man says with awe and amusement and grabs Yunjin’s hair. He yanks her across the street, into the bushes where he came from. Behind them is a small patch of grass, where Yunjin is forced to lay down and spread her legs. She whimpers ‘no, no’ repeatedly, but the threat of the gun is right there, in his hand. Now it’s next to her head as he opens his zipper. 

“Pl-please don’t,” she whispers and her fist forms tighter. It draws even more pee from her panties.

“What’s your name?” the man coldly responds, fishing out his hard cock. 

“Yunjin.”

“Do you want to die, Yunjin.”

“No, please, no!”

“Then shut up—and do it again.”

Yunjin has no idea what he meant by this last statement. However, when he shoves his entire, surprisingly large cock inside her hot cunt, she doesn’t even remember it anymore. To pee in front of a stranger was pure horror, but this takes it to another level. If it weren’t for his hand on her mouth, not even the fear of death would have stopped her from screaming at this feeling. Pain, pain that feels great, fantastic, orgasmic even. Yunjin’s head begins to spin and her eyes roll into the back of her head.

“Hng, fuck,” the man groans and leans down to Yunjin’s face, “Yunjin, you’re fucking pretty. Great to have met you.”

A sinister laugh as he begins to bite the skin on her cheek and then on her shoulder. It’s not enough to leave marks, but definitely enough for Yunjin to feel something other than the cock hammering her pussy. It’s enormous size and width stretch her out more than any of her toys did before. Her flailing legs begin to go numb.

Suddenly, the man pushes his lip-sealing fingers into her mouth. He plays with her tongue, while hitting just the right spot inside her over and over. As she yelps, Yunjin comes to a shocking realization. The water on her face is not just tears, but also drools from the heavy pounding. Her mind becomes blank every now and then. It feels insane, better than anything she tried before. Something is building up in her lower regions and this filthy criminal gets her filthy pussy closer to another release. 

“Do it again, Yunjin,” he huffs into her face while retrieving his fingers from her mouth again— “I know you’re a kinky slut. Do it, or else.” —and wraps them around her delicate throat. Simultaneously, he begins to make out with her drooling mouth and press down on her throat. Yunjin screams into his mouth. Her body has given up. It’s completely resigned to him, but her mind is tormented by the inevitable. 

He hits the right spot, and her bladder is still so full. No, she can’t let it happen. She’d rather die and drown in her own spit and snot. It’s so humiliating, so bad, but at the same, her dopamine level has never been this high, it’s good. It will happen, it will happen, he just needs to tip her over, please tip me over.

“Or else. Now.”

The moment he stops fucking her tight cunt, Yunjin starts to piss again. A violent, clear stream erupts from her and she waters the grass and bushes around her like a gardening hose. Her hips buckle up, but she doesn’t feel his manhood anymore. She opens her teary eyes and sees the man's cockhead above her abdomen, unloading his warm, sticky semen all over the dress. 

Gooey white and runny light-yellow still shoot out of their bodies, but the two are entangled in a sloppy kiss with no care for the mess they are making on each other and the grass below. This might be someone’s property and they will surely notice. Not that Yunjin really cares, as her tongue is thoroughly sucked on and her limbs feel numb from the pleasure filled violation.

Suddenly, he reaches for the pee-soaked panties in her firm grasp. He guides her pale legs together and forces the undergarment up to her still twitching pussy. Yunjin gasps at the sensation of stained, wet clothing forced upon her. She loves how he continues to rub his thumb on her now covered clit and stares at her face, stupid from his attack. 

“Kinky slut. Now fuck off. No cleaning until your home. Or else.”

#

Quiet. Not a single sound. You’re able to close the door behind you without it creaking. Your wife will probably be asleep by now, but you want to make sure it stays that way. Carefully remove your shoes and sneak over the smooth tiles into the living room. Absolute silence. She is not here. Search in the kitchen, just a light humming of the refrigerator. There is no sound a human would make, until you reach the stairs. 

Wet squelching and soft moans. They get louder with every step you take upwards. You decide to leave the mask on and move faster, still careful to not stir up attention. The sounds of self-satisfaction come from the playroom. Take a look inside and there she is.

Chaewon sits on the couch, panties around her ankles. Three of her fingers slowly move in and out of her pussy as she rubs her clit in circles. She throws her head back against the rest and the moonlight gives you a perfect view of her pleasure ridden face and closed eyes. The squelching gets louder and in between moans, Chaewon forms a clear sentence.

“Yes, fuck her like that. Don’t stop, don’t stop—”

Three quick steps and you’re right in front of the half-naked Chaewon. She pulls her fingers out in shock but you replace the emptiness of her hole with yours immediately after. Chaewon gasps as you lean closer to her and pump slowly.

“My wife is a kinky bitch.”

“Sh-shut up.”

“No, you shut up. Keep imagining it. 

How I fuck your friend as she cries and screams. The way her body trembles while you look from the bushes. The way my cock pierces her pussy until she starts to pee all over herself.”

“Fuck!” Chaewon screams out and her body begins to shake.

“You like that? Then cum for me, Chaewon. 

Or else.”

[amymbona]

1950s Patrick is cool, but imagine how tragic the story of 1940s Patrick is...

The war started and he is taken into the army, you cry and are afraid of losing your wonderful beloved husband. You can never be sure whether he will live or not, but can only believe and hope that at least he will remain alive, not to mention the injuries both physical and psychological, since war does not spare anyone. You spend your last night of love with him, whispering to him how much you love him and that you won't let him die. Maybe the conversation will even get to the baby, about how they want a baby and what you would name the baby after him. Patrick or Patricia :)) When a tear runs down cheek, he comforts you, says that he loves you, that he will never die and leave you alone. You end up falling asleep hugging him, and you look at him for the last time, knowing that tomorrow he will leave. In the morning you see him off, constantly kissing and hugging him the whole way, 'cause you understand that this is the only chance to be satiated with his love and adoration. You wave your handkerchief at him, shedding a tear, and here he is, leaving. All that remains is to believe that his service will be easier than others and that he will return to their home with the same wonderful smile and bright, shining eyes that you fell in love with.

Every time I realize that I'm a damn director, not a screenwriter. Give me my lovely screenwriter!!!

I haven't written to you for a long time, girlie. Amy, how are you?! What's up? 🤗🤗

- 🐦‍⬛

I'm gonna give you a blow job for this one, little bird. How am I doing? After reading this? Absolutely fucking wonderful.

One thing people must know about me is that I love angst and THIS..... 🫦🫦🫦 SO SO SO GOOD!

Imagine Patrick somewhere in the trench, the sun is falling down and he's shivering, purple bruises on his cheeks, his hair a complete mess. Unwashed, starving, the lack of sleep and warmth is very much evident in the way he's shivering but by some miracle, he hasn't gone crazy yet.

Perhaps it's the image of your beautiful face that he keeps in his pocket, a little photograph he has torn out of your family memory book that you keep in the living room, just to have you with himself at all times. All the men in his troop know about you, know your name and age and what flowers you like, that you love to dance to Glenn Miller's songs and wear the prettiest dresses. Patrick keeps talking about you nonstop.

And currently, he's writing a letter to you, one that he's been writing for the past there weeks and he honestly has no idea if his writings are ever gonna be seen by your eyes. Patrick is desperate to remain in contact with you, but he knows that even if all the letters would remain stuffed in his pocket, you'll know damn well what messages he is attempting to send you.

Luckily, through some begging and mutual contacts, he manages to give the letter to some guy. Patrick kisses it a thousand of times, hoping you'll get a whiff of his scent, even though he smells like dirt and piss.

My darling,

I miss you dearly and I miss you every day. Remember how I told you Remarque was a stupid fool? How I couldn't believe a single word from his book? This place is worse than All quiet on the western front, it's worse than hell itself.

Every day I thank myself for taking that little picture of your beautiful face to look at. It keeps me sane, I think, and I look at it more than I used to look at your real face. Forgive me it I've ever made you cry, my love. I cry every night.

Don't waste your words asking me how I'm doing, write about your days instead. Are you doing all alright? Are you keeping the place clean and that stray dog that keeps sneaking into our garden well fed? Has your mother's flu been treated and is she feeling better?

Please, darling, spray your perfume on the paper when you write me a response. Use the whole bottle it you feel like it's not enough. I just need to feel you somehow. If you can and find away, send me some food. Anything. In cans, preferably. Me and the boys are starving. They want to meet you when we're all back home. I talk about you and our memories every night.

I will be missing you until my heart stops beating.

Yours, Patrick

[the-kr8tor]

hi luv! yesterday I was listening to the neighbourhood and there’s a song called “single” and was the fluffy song ever, I was literally melting when I pictured Hobie singing that song, so I came here to request if you can write a drabble about Hobie playing a new song (ofc Single by The Nieghbpurhood) in one of his concerts, he said that it was something different of his style but special bc is for someone special (Reader) and during the song Hobie x Reader remember moments of two of them together <3

Hi hun! Thank you for requesting! I've never heard of this song till now, and omg it's so good. I didn't add the lyrics here hope you don't mind. I hope you like this ❤️

Pairing: Hobie Brown x gn! Reader/ Spider-Punk x gn! Reader

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, FLUFF.

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

Hobie stands tall on the stage, breathless from performing, sweat clings to his forehead. In your eyes he looks magnificent, with how the bright spotlights glow on his face, emphasizing his defined face. He takes your breath away when he winks at you, standing shakily on the side of the stage, as if you were playing on stage yourself.

You hear the crowd cheer when Hobie takes center stage, taking the mic from its stand.

"We're gonna play something a bit different this time" he says, grabbing an acoustic guitar in exchange for his electric one. You knit your eyebrows together, looking at him for an answer. Hobie just grins at you, holding the guitar properly, he looks back at the crowd– "is that alright with you lot? Use this moment for a bit of a breather, yeah?" He points at someone in the crowd "you look like you need one"

You can't see the crowd with how bright the lights are, but you hear some of them laughing, and a faint "fuck you, Hobie!" Followed by another roaring laughter. You chuckle, looking at Hobie's band mates for answers instead.

They shrug, lips curling into a smirk. His drummer mouths a word that you barely made out– wait, you look more confused, eyes flying back to Hobie's figure, ringed fingers curving over the guitar's strings.

"This is for someone very special" he turns a bit to look at you, the lights glowing behind him, making him more handsome on stage. Hobie gives you a ten megawatt smile, your heart stuttering in your chest. All you could manage was a wobbly smile, pupils practically shaped like hearts.

He turns back to the crowd, strumming the guitar softly. You listen closely, hanging on to every lyric.

As he sings, you can't help the tears collecting over your eyes. Hobie harmonizes beautifully, you make a choked sound, covering your mouth with your palm, so as to not disturb him.

When he sings the lyrics, your mind flits back to when you started dating. All the tentative touches, hands grazing against each other, the longing looks from across the room, the shy smiles you give him when he flirts.

Your breathing shakes, a tear slides over your cheeks. You remember the first time you've kissed, how patient he was with you, and oh so careful with your heart that you've lovingly given him. With all the love he's given you, you try every single day to reciprocate that love a hundred times more. Of course your relationship isn't always picture perfect, with a few fights here and there, but he has never made you feel less loved, and you've promised each other to never sleep angry, always ending the fight with apologies on both ends, leaving sticky kisses on each other's lips.

Your memories flash before you, all the dates, embraces, and tears you've shed when he comes home from being Spider-Man. And most of all, the deep affections and tenderness of it all.

He ends the song, strumming out the last chords, the claps and whistles from the crowd brings you back to reality, noticing how wet your cheeks have gotten. Wiping at your face with your sleeves, you don't notice Hobie bounding up to you, hands already raised towards you.

"Oh fuck, made you cry, huh" he cups the sides of your head, thumb rubbing at your tear-stained cheeks. His touch makes you come alive again.

You sniff, looking at him through tacky lashes "give me a heads up next time" your voice trembling despite the quip.

He briefly places his forehead over yours, kissing it softly. You hold on to his neck for dear life, legs still trembling, you let him litter kisses all over your face until your sniffles turn into giggling.

"I take it that you liked the song?" He holds your face in his hands, cold rings over your warm skin.

"So much" you wrap your fingers over his wrists, "I love you" Hobie looks at you like you've hung the stars just for him.

He leans towards your lips, "I know, love you too" finally pressing his lips to yours.

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

Thank you for reading! Please consider reblogging if you enjoyed it ❤️

[embracetranquilityson]

It's been 10 years and I'm still not over them

It's insane.

I've played DA:I at least 6 times, romanced every single romanceable character and though my heart will always belong to Trevelyan/Cullen, I just can't get over Lavellan and Solas.

It's insane. Yes, I'm repeating myself but??? Feelings are difficult. Please tell me that I'm not the only one losing their mind after the new trailer.

I just want to see them talk? Give me some closure, please.

I've done my waiting! Ten years of it! In Solavellan Hell!

I have so many post-trespasser headcanons that I don't even know what to do with them.

There's somewhat of a bittersweet one where Lavellan basically drops everything and returns to her clan to raise their secret child (yes, I know they were never canonically intimate but shhh! A poor soul can dream).

Then there's the dark one where Lavellan is so fed up with the world that she turns 'evil' and delves into dark/blood magic and red lyrium in a futile attempt to fill the void in her heart with raw power.

And lastly there's the one where she simply doesn't give up. It may seem boring compared to the other ones, but can you imagine dedicating years and years of your life to changing your friend's mind? (Friend, yes, because he may have broken her heart but she still cares about him.)

Edit: my brain just remembered a horrible HC in which Lavellan just can't get over the pain and asks to become Tranquil. Yeah. I'm not crying, you are.

I have so many feelings. My partner legit asked me if I'm alright and no? No, I'm not.

Also, this stupid song keeps playing on the radio and it makes me think of them???

"Lately, I have desperately pondered

Spent my nights awake and I wondered

What I could have done in another way

To make you stay

Reason will not reach a solution

I will end up lost in confusion

I don't care if you really care

As long as you don't go"

I don't even know what to say anymore. Send help.

And send some Solavellan headcanons, please! I need to survive until FALL 2024.

[sucrealacreme]

Supe Busters - Soldier Boy x female reader

Chapter three

Summary : Vought has many secrets, project W is one of them. What happens when said project turns against them?

I've always hated liars. If used to baffle me how people could lie. A lie could ruin someone planned life, give them an unwanted direction. How could any living and breathing humans do that? Without liars, society would be thriving and jolly and happy like a Christmas song. But, a lie goes a long way, but it never goes as long as the truth. Where the truth will be revealed, the lie will end. So why not just tell what oughts to be told in the future? My mom always told me one thing. Liars will dig and scratch every ounces of love they can get like a dehydrated man in the middle of the desert. While the truth tellers don't have to seek it, since by their truth they shall receive love.

So when I started to suspect Evangeline behavior, it was like a knife to the hearth. Not a well sharpened one. No, one with a rusty, dull and hot blade. A blade so painful it could make Homelander kneel. She was almost like this wise aunt to me. The one you go to when you have problems you cannot find a way out of. Those that will never give you an answer but instead make you think of one. 

Evangeline was one of the community pillar. For crying out loud, she was in charge of it. But I couldn’t be fooled anymore. No, not after what Florence told me.

Flash-back

Florence was roaming around the base, not looking for anything except her own deep thoughts. She was near Evangeline's office when she first heard of her true self. 

“Who am I speaking to?” Florence couldn't help but spy on the conversation. It was too tempting and it couldn't be anything embarrassing knowing Evangeline.

“Oh Miss Garcia what a pleasure, how can I help you” Miss Garcia? Who was that? What's happening??

“You want to discuss an issue with the chips? What issue? Everything seems fine” Alright now Florence was just getting pranked. Chips? As in lays chips? No it couldn't be that. Think Florence think…

“Well if they don't detonate anymore I do not see how it's my problem. After all I can't go around telling everyone they need brain surgery. I mean it could compromise the entire job we've been doing wi- “ Evangeline suddenly stopped talking. 

“I'm going to call you back, I have to take care of something.” Florence hearth stopped. Did she knew she was spying on her? Oh Jesus, she couldn't hide from someone with x-Ray vision. Oh. 

But she could trick them with a little light show. Florence bended and bended the light waves around her so she could blend in with the background. 

“I know you're there. I can not see you nor know who you are but I can feel your presence. I know you heard me so I'm going to tell you what's gonna happen. You'll close your mouth and not utter a single word about this exchange. And if you do voices those things, I will not hesitate in targeting you. Think about it, who would trust a nasty, pale and cheap knock Off of a supe over me, the Guardian of Illusion. Don't make something you'll regret dear.”

Ben entered the warehouse with his usual frowned and grumpy face. He was rarely happy. Always grunting and mumbling old slangs like a caveman. But it was worse this day. For fuck's sake today was supposed to be his day off. His plans were just smoking some green, a couple beers and one or two women in his bed. Fucking dream if you ask him.

But no, Butcher with his cock vacuum “absolutely needed him”. Urgh, what a bunch of pussies. Except the british. No that man wasn't as worse as the cum guzzler. Anyway, he just add to move a door, make a deal and then he could go around fucking women.

Hughie was still hiding when he saw Y/n and Florence enter by another door. Oh fuck Annie would be killing him. Of course that wasn't the fucking door dumbass, he told himself. They're supposed to be hiding of course their door isn’t out for the world to see. Him alongside the two other men slowly got out from underneath the shelves. The door had closed minutes ago with aloud bang and creaks. They should really oil those doors.

Soldier Boy alongside Annie and Kimiko entered the warehouse suddenly, scaring Hughie to death.

“Alright where's the god damn door” the old man asked, a joint at his mouth.

“Well we thought it was that one but now-” Hughie was suddenly interrupted by the sound of a door opening.

“Are you sure of what you heard? I mean maybe they really were talking about potato chips and not electric-” Y/n widened her eyes in disbelief.

“What- Oh my fucking god.”

“Ah bloody hell…” Butcher hated the whole world at that moment. Hughie, M.M, Annie, everyone really. 

“Now who the hell are you?” Y/n was starting to sweat and apparently she wasn't the only one. The french one who seemed to be a hybrid between a human and a meerkat. God he reaked. Could probably empty out a whole stadium with that thing jesus. It seemed like she made a face when she looked at him because now he took a step forward.

“Tu regardes quoi saloperie” he said with an offended face. Oh he thinks he’s the only one who speaks french?

“Toi sale batard qui d’autre” Y/n was now taking a step forward too, ready to attack incase he acts like well, a meerkat.

“Hey Frenchie back off, we're here to make a deal not a fight” he must be the voice of reason in their team. Wait hold on was that Soldier Boy?

“You're lucky he's here” Frenchie turned around going next to Kimiko again. But you were concentrated on looking at what seemed to be Soldier Boy holy shit.

“Yeah you go do that sweety pie, now what are you doing here.” Florence was starting to get frustrated too but you holy cow you had the guy you’ve been looking for for a whole week right there! You should just lounge at him or something.

“Well hello to you too sweetheart, we’re here to make a deal with you lots”  Did they have every nationalities in that team or? I mean, there was more diversity in them than in the Seven. But still, if you could just fry the V in Soldier Boy that would be-

“Don’t even think about it” Florence whispered before taking walking towards them.

“Now, what kind of deal are we talking about?”

Meanwhile at Vought’s, a red haired woman was walking fast in her heels to a meeting she had with Homelander. She finally found a place where the villain might be hiding. It wasn't easy to find, but with the help of crimes analytics and a few connections she managed too.

 Oh how excited she was. She was able to get her hands on some compound V. She would inject herself with it, then flee the country and all of that would be behind her. She would finally be able to live the life she always wanted. Would she go to Italy? Oooh maybe Switzerland! There weren’t any supes there and she heard that Vought had yet to get their hands on them. That would be perfect.

Ashley’s heel clicked every step she took. Head held high, files tucked in her arms, she was ready to do this.

Butcher was baffled on how well organised those people were. The cave was reinforced with strong metals to ensure its residents security. But to get there, they first had to go through sewers. Not a bad idea, no one wants to live in sewers after all, so no squatters and no spies. What a dream.

“OK so we’ll go in my quarters to discuss since well, things are happening everywhere else” Y/n announced with a little nervous laugh. God she was so fucked, not only did she learned that Evangeline was maybe the reason behind why people were fainting left and right but she also had to deal with this shit. Urgh, she couldn’t wait for her day off.

Arrived at her apartments, Y/n led the group to a small wooden table. Everyone sat down on the creaky old chairs. She got all of her furnitures herself. She was just too lazy to repare them at the moment. She was able to get Nessira to make a comfortable sofa made out of leaves and wood. God she loved nature, she was often sad she couldn't control it. It was just too complex. The formulas were by the hundreds and contained thousands of atoms. Kinda hard to control that.

“Alright so, tell us about your deal” Florence demanded. Her patience was being stretched thin and she hated that. She wasn't impatient, no don't get confused, she just wasn't someone that liked to lose time in things like that. She liked going straight to the point.

“OK so, we’re a group of people that went the same thing as you- What do you call yourself again-

“Supe Busters.” both women responded a little too excited about their wordplay. That was a clever name and no one could convince them otherwise.

“Yeah Supe Busters, we're like you except we don't have the same abilities as you. Wich makes our jobs ten times harder. So we were wondering if we could, you know form an alliance? Just to get rid of some supes tho, after that we're good. “

“And what happens if we refuse?” Florence said with a frown. She couldn't see what they, Supe Busters, could get out of this? 

“Well, not much. Except maybe the fact you'd be on our bad side now” The blonde woman was now talking. Y/n recognized her.

“Aren’t you Starlight? I heard that you trafficked kids…” Florence was wayyy too agaisnt the idea of working with her.

“Girl those are false allegations” Y/n was trying really hard not to laugh while saying this.

“How do you know? From what we know supes ain't saints..”

“Cause Vought made those rumours up. They saw an enemy they wanted to get rid of, that simple. Apparently it worked cause there are still some dumbasses like you that believe it uh”

Florence was now thinking of it and it was in fact Vought who started those things. Guess Y/n is right…

“what about the deal?” said M.M getting impatient too in front of those women. Unprofessional women at that.

“Oh yeah, I’m not agaisn’t it. Are you?” It was now the atom controller's turn to ask questions.

“Yeah, ok I’m in it too. We’re in.”

“Ashley, right in time it seems” Ashley was scared of Homelander. And he knew that. He was bathed in joy at the fact if anything. He relished at the fear people had of him. He felt superior to them at those moments, like a better specie, a God…

“Yes sir, sorry sir. Uhm, me and my team found where this person might be hiding.” Shaking like a leaf she handed him the files. Files that he threw at the table like it wasn't hours of intense research.

“I don't want to read it, I want to hear it. Now. Ashley.” His eyes started to have their menacing red glow. Oh how Ashley hated him, he could feel it. He loved observing people. It helped feel more, normal. Like he hadn't lived through reckless torture for years and years and years and years and y-

“O-Of course sir. We have found out that they might be hiding in the Flat Iron Building-” Ashley was once again cut off by Homelander's hand around her throat. He squeezed and squeezed, his gloves squeaking under the pressure.

“Hmm, Ashley tell me please. Did I or did I not tell you that I needed a suspect?” he asked calmly, squeezing a little less for her to speak.

“Yes sir you did” Ashley voice was shocked by the lack of air.

“And you want to tell me WHY THE HELL I GET A PLACE INSTEAD OF A PERSON?” He was now screaming in the red haired woman’s face. Little droplets of spit landed on her face. He suddenly released his grip on her to put his face between his hands, exasperated by her lack of competence. Ashley was now at the floor breathing like a fish out of the sea. She could feel her throat get more and more sore by the seconds, while her lungs were wheezing.

“Get out of here I'll send a team of agents there since you all want to act like clowns.”

A/n : Again for a part four I need 10 notes in order to be sure I'm not writing to no one😊 If you have any suggestions, again feel free to say them

@demodemo909

@weaponxgames

[thatfreshi]

Hi there! I saw the post about the requests! If you don't mind, Imma dump the three ideas I have here in one ask so I don't spam you. Apologies if there's not enough info in them or are too jumbled to understand! I'm not great at sending requests.

A Dragonborn tav who wishes to cuddle with Astarion/Rest their head against him, but can't due to horn/spike placement. Frustration on tav's end and, after some confusion, an emense amount of teasing on Astarion's. Maybe they find out some way to have resting on Astarion better.

Astarion helping out Tav after Tav had a medical surgery thing. They're just in pain for the first few days and Astarion just helps them out. (Mostly just want some personal comfort for my own recent surgery. I'm in pain.)

Dragonborn Tav doing some Dragonborn courting rituals to get Astarion's attention. Maybe even trying to research Eleven courting rituals to do so.

Went ahead and went with the second ask in this list. If you still want the others you can send them again! I prefer separate requests because it's easier for me to keep track of, but I appreciate that you have so many ideas for me :)

TW - broken bones

Recommended Song: Lovers Rock - TV Girl

Living a normal life comes with far too many responsibilities. Sure, killing goblins and avoiding shadows is stressful, but buying groceries? Doing dishes? It seems like there's something every single damn day, especially when you're renovating a house.

Now, Astarion loves priding himself on being a great bargainer, making a sweet deal out of any situation, and he figured a place with good bones like this would be a steal if he could cut the price a little. Was he wrong? Of course not, he has a habit of being right almost always, which can be frustrating. However, the two of you bit off far more than you could chew, especially when it came to the staircase that was practically falling apart. Mind you, neither you or Astarion are renovators, but both of you are far too stubborn for your own good.

"I'm sure we could get someone to fix it, right? Just needs some extra support."

You raise a brow at him.

"And spend more money? No way, we should just do it ourselves. I'm sure one of our friends has some extra wood lying around."

That's when you make the mistake of going up a couple steps to see just how bad the damage is. Apparently this place used to house a group of rowdy adventurers who couldn't help but destroy everything in their path. When you fall asleep on the floor every night, guess it doesn't really matter if you can't get up to any of the bedrooms. As you're analyzing the stairs, there's a crack beneath your feet, which you ignore.

"Darling, perhaps you should just take a look from down here?"

When you go to turn and tell him you'll be fine, your leg takes a plunge through the wood, subsequently fracturing several bones in your foot.

"Gods, damn it!"

You manage to cry out, trying to pull yourself out of the tattered floor. Astarion helps you, helping you get back down to the first floor, trying to make sure he doesn't face a similar fate.

"I guess a trip to Shadowheart's is in order."

You shake your head.

"Nope, her and Halsin are on that healer's retreat, remember? In Waterdeep?"

"Shit, I suppose you're right dove. When are they getting back?"

You sigh.

"Tonight, sadly."

It was currently far too early in the morning, as the two of you wanted to get a head start on your fixer-upper today.

"Alright, we'll just have to go see someone in town I suppose."

"Aster, we do not have the money for that right now. We've already budgeted everything for the house, I can't go see some uppity Baldurian doctor who's going to charge us far more gold than they're worth."

"Well, what do you suggest we do then?"

"Wait til Shadowheart and Halsin get back? I mean it's really all we can do."

"Gods Tav, we had so much planned today. Those tieflings are coming by to tile the kitchen at noon! And you know I am not good at being nice to strangers."

"Well my love, looks like you're going to have to learn, because I cannot walk on this thing."

You groan in pain, trying to flex your foot, feeling all the little spots your bones broke.

"To the bed we go then."

Astarion wraps you up in his arms, taking you to what in a couple of weeks is supposed to be the study. For now though, it's a makeshift bedroom. He gently lies you on the bed, getting a pillow for under your foot. Then, he thinks about how he truly does not like being broke, but the both of you didn't want to impose on any of your friends, staying at their place for any longer than you had to. Gale offered, but the thought of being all cramped up in his new tower was suffocating.

"Are you okay Aster?"

Your voice wakes him from his thoughts.

"Yes my dear, just thinking about our raggedy circumstances."

"It'll be nice when it's done, and when my foot's not broke."

The two of you chuckle.

"As much as I love living with you, I didn't think domestic life was quite this, complex."

He moves to lie down next to you, careful not to move your wounded foot.

"You still want this though, right?"

"Of course, a nice house to ourselves? A space just for us? I can't imagine a better investment. Just not quite used to all the contractors and market visits and drunken nights yet, all the normal things, the things I would've done so much sooner if..."

Astarion shakes his head, as if trying to get the thoughts out of his mind.

"Never mind all that, I should get you some tea."

Before you can tell him that it's alright, that you want to hear what he has to say, he's gone to the kitchen. Instead you just lay on the bed, thinking of just how lucky the two of you are. Two troubled souls set up for failure, and yet here you are. You laugh a little, thinking about how lucky you are with a shattered foot.

"Here we are my darling, a hot brew just for you."

He helps you sit up, making sure you keep your leg elevated.

"Easy my dove, don't want to break anything else do we?"

The hours pass by as the two of you wait for the tilers to come, talking about all the projects you were going to start today. It's nice, having a project, something to strive towards that isn't murdering someone or working through some major trauma. Just the two of you drinking tea in some old house, sitting on a bed that you'll have to break down and bring upstairs, and then put back together. While Astarion very easily could have left you to your devices and gotten started on all your little plans, he stayed by your side, talking about everything and nothing.

"This is just the beginning."

You say, suddenly breaking a natural silence.

"What is?"

"This. We get to start over. This is the beginning of us starting over."

He smiles at your whimsical view of things.

"I suppose you're right."

[hjinnie]

enhypen as taylor swift songs (angst ver.)

enhypen x gn!reader! fluff/angst! masterlist

✩ heeseung!

right where you left me ─ "did you hear about the girl who lives in delusion? break-ups happen every day, you don't have to lose it. she's still 23 inside her fantasy, and you're sitting in front of me, at the restaurant, when I was still the one you want. cross-legged in the dim light, everything was just right, i could feel the mascara run, you told me that you met someone, glass shattered on the white cloth, everybody moved on."

✩ jay!

the 1 ─ "i guess you never know, and if you wanted me you really should've showed. and if you never bleed, you're never gonna grow." "we were something, don't you think so? roaring twenties tossing pennies in the pool. and if my wishes came true, it would've been you." "i persist and resist the temptation to ask you if one thing had been different, would everything be different today? we were something, don't you think so? rosé flowing with your chosen family. and it would've been sweet, if it could've been me."

✩ jake!

the other side of the door ─ "i said, "leave", but all i really want is you to stand outside my window, throwing pebbles, screaming, "i'm in love with you", wait there in the pourin' rain, come back for more. and don't you leave, 'cause i know all i need is on the other side of the door. with your face and the beautiful eyes, and the conversation with the little white lies, and the faded picture of a beautiful night, you carry me from your car up the stairs, and i broke down cryin', was she worth this mess? after everything and that little black dress. after everything, i must confess i need you."

✩ sunghoon!

mr. perfectly fine ─ “mr. perfect face, mr. here to stay, mr. looked me in the eye and told me you would never go away. everything was right! mr. i’ve been waiting for you all my life, mr. every single day until the end, i will be by your side! but that was when i got to know mr. change of heart, mr. leaves me all alone.. i fall apart. it takes EVERYTHING in me just to get up each day, but it's wonderful to see that you're okay! hello! mr. perfectly fine! how’s your heart after breaking mine? mr. always at the right place at the right time, baby. hello! mr. casually cruel, mr. everything revolves around you, i’ve been miss misery since your goodbye and you're mr. perfectly fine.”

✩ sunoo!

back to december ─ "so this is me swallowin' my pride, standin' in front of you sayin' i'm sorry for that night, and i go back to december all the time. it turns out freedom ain't nothin' but missin' you, wishin' i'd realized what i had when you were mine, id go back to december, turn around and make it alright... i go back to december all the time" "your sweet smile, so good to me so right. and how you held me in your arms that september night, the first time you ever saw me cry."

✩ jungwon!

red ─ "losing him was blue like i'd never known, missing him was dark gray, all alone, forgetting him was like trynna know somebody's you never met, but loving him was red." "touching him was like realizing all you ever wanted was right there in front of you. memorizing him was as easy as knowing all the words to your old favorite song. fighting with him was like trying to solve a crossword and realizing there's no right answer. regretting him was like wishing you never found out that love could be that strong."

✩ niki!

out of the woods ─ "we were built to fall apart, and fall back together. your necklace hanging from my neck, the night we couldn't quite forget when we decided to move the furniture so we could dance, baby like we stood a chance." "remember when you hit the brakes too soon? twenty stitches in a hospital room. when you started crying, baby, i did too, but when the sun came up i was looking at you. remember when we couldn't take the heat? i walked out, i said "i'm setting you free", but the monsters turned out to be just trees, when the sun came up, you were looking at me."