#there sure is a lot of mixed sentiments out there about this one
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bekolxeram · 2 days ago
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I was reading a lot of fics about Tommy discovering Buck's new found stress baking habit post reunion, then this cringy idea popped into my mind. Now you get to suffer with me.
NSFW-ish
Lukewarm water, 360 grams. Honey, 10 grams. Dry yeast, 7 grams. Mix. Flour, 5… wait, no, wrong flour. Where’s my god damn bread flour? When was the last time I made bread? Oh yes, last month, right before Tommy and I got back together, it should be around… Ah, there, found it! No...
No!
Don’t get sentimental now, there’s no place for melancholy tonight.
“Sexy thoughts. Sexy thoughts.” Buck mutters to himself, desperately trying to stop his wandering mind from ruining his mood.
Think of Tommy. Hot, sexy, pilot.
The cyclic looks so small in his big yet surgically precise hand. It almost seems like he’s telepathically flying the chopper with his mind, not with his strong, steady arm. His fingers are long enough to engulf the control stick completely and more, sometimes he has to twist his wrist around just to flick the top… uh… the button on top.
He can feel the fabric of his sweatpants straining against his hip. The tight cotton shirt he picked out especially for the night feels extra tight around his rapidly warming skin. Good, it seems like his tactic is working.
And his pecs… that time when he wore nothing but his flight suit, umm... They’re so fun to play with, squeeze them, bite them, lick them, sleep on them, make them bounce. I don’t need to “explore” to be sure how much I love them. It’s not even about gender, I know a good pair when I see one.
Stop. No. He’s apologized. I’ve apologized. We’re all good.
It feels like all we do these days is to apologize, then have make up sex. Not saying it’s not good sex, but I want that light, fun sex we used to have, before we…
Don’t, don’t go there.
Anyway, oh, his beautiful face. The one stubborn strand of hair on his forehead that always refuses to comply with any hair product. The constellation of freckles scattered across his perfectly shaped nose. The sensual curve of his lips. The creases around his eyes and his cheeks when his whole face is lit up by that classic scrunchy smile. I swear they look even more prominent now… Oh! How could I forget, that delicious cleft on his chin. If there’s one saving grace coming out of the breakup, it’s his decision to double, no, triple his effort at the gym. His facial features look that much more striking on his now leaner body. Who gets over a heartbreak by becoming a Greek statue anyway? Pick up baking like a normal person, please.
Wait, I’m thinking about the breakup, aren’t I? Don’t. Don’t! Ugh… too late.
Buck lightly bangs his head against the counter in frustration. Deciding to focus on the task at hand instead, he promptly weighs out his flour, sprinkles in a pinch of salt, then pours the bubbly yeast mixture into the dry ingredients.
Just as he’s about to put his hands to work, he’s interrupted by a familiar rhythm at the door. Quickly wiping his hands on his apron, then pushing the waistband of his pants down by half an inch for Tommy’s viewing pleasure, he goes on to greet the man he’s been waiting for.
“Sorry, I’m late,” Tommy apologizes as he’s entering the loft. “I believe the infamous LA traffic still hasn’t recovered from the emergency freeway landing last year.”
“No, no, it’s alright,” Buck shoots him a reassuring smile, clearly delighted by having his beloved in his space again. “Make yourself at home, I’ll be right with you. I need to finish this dough first.”
“But I thought you said you wanted to relax tonight? Aren’t we just gonna order takeout?” Tommy’s visibly confused by Buck’s ongoing culinary endeavor.
“Oh, this? This is not for tonight. It has to proof until at least tomorrow morning,” Buck replies absentmindedly, his hands continue kneading the dough without pause.
“You don’t have to, Evan. I’m okay with no breakfast at all,” Tommy walks around the kitchen counter to give the hardworking baker a kiss on the temple. “As long as I’m with you.”
“Um… no, I’m making these because my parents are coming to town.”
“Tomorrow morning?!”
“In a month. They’re coming to see Maddie in a month. I’m just stress baking because they…” Buck lets out a sarcastic laugh, “they stress me out.”
“Ahhh… is that so? Well, I’m happy to have learned this about you. I never knew you could bake.”
“I couldn’t. I picked it up recently, after you…” Those dreaded words have already slipped out of his mouth before Buck realizes. He’s been trying his damnedest to steer the night away from this particular direction, but as it turns out, he’s utterly powerless against the freight train of emotions he’s been keeping deep inside. He briefly considers changing the subject, but Tommy’s heard him already. He perks up his eyebrows, signaling Buck to finish his sentence.
It’s better to rip off the band aid now, than to let it snowball into something unstoppable.
“...after you dumped me,” Buck comes clean reluctantly.
Tommy drops his eyes and sighs in understanding, before gently wrapping his arms around Buck from behind. “I’m sorry, baby,” he presses his lips onto the golden curls in front of him.
“Chimney told me, you have a tendency to run away if you’re being pushed too hard. I should wait for you to reach out instead of… the other way around.” Buck keeps working on his dough, intentionally averting his gaze from the man behind him.
“Mmhmm.”
“It was… agonizing. I saw you everywhere. I saw you at home, I saw you at the fire house. I saw you at the coffee shop. I saw you when a helicopter passed by in the sky. You were like… a ghost, haunting me, every waking moment of my life. You know what? Not even just waking, you were haunting my dreams, too. The only thing that managed to stop me from texting you was baking. I had all the supplies at home because I was planning to surprise you with a cake for your birthday but…”
Tommy abruptly lets go and backs off. While Buck fully expects the night to be ruined after his long winded ramble, he mourns the sudden loss of contact nonetheless.
Still not looking up from the increasingly elastic mass on the counter, Buck continues, “I just have to knead it for… um… 5 more minutes, then I’m all yours. Let’s start over, yeah? I’m over it, I’m okay now. Let’s forget about it and just… chill. There’s this movie I…” He’s cut off by Tommy’s return, arms secured around his waist once again, chest pressed firmly against his back, the only difference being that Buck can feel Tommy’s body heat radiating this time.
“Ghost, you said?” Tommy whispers, lips barely grazing the hair standing on Buck’s nape.
“Yeah…” Buck shivers. He turns his head slightly to take a peek at the man behind him.
Yes, Tommy’s shirtless.
“Mmm, keep going,” Tommy demands, hands sliding under the hem of Buck’s shirt to roam around his midsection, lips softly connected to the side of his neck.
So Buck keeps going. Press. Rotate. Press. Rotate. Press. Rotate. Press. Rotate.
He feels two big hands caressing his shoulders, along his arms, then all the way down to his own busy hands.
“What are you making?”
“Ba — Bagels.”
“Umm… I love bagels,” Tommy lazily drags his mouth from Buck’s neck to his shoulder, leaving a trail of delicate kisses behind, “do you know how I like to take it?”
“How…?”
Tommy props his head back up, chin resting on the younger man’s shoulder. “Plain, with cream cheese,” he breathes straight into Buck’s ear. “So much cream cheese that it… oozes out everywhere. Leaking from the side, through the middle…” his tongue darts out to give that spot right underneath the earlobe an inquisitive lick. “I love it when it gets all over my face, painting my mouth white.”
Buck’s previously regular cadence starts faltering. He doesn’t know when to press or when to rotate the dough anymore.
“Hey, let me help you with that,” Tommy grabs a hand full of the dough, and squeezes, hard. Yet, the dough barely budges. “Oh, am I doing it wrong?”
Buck can’t help but giggle. “You have to knead with your palms, not your fingers. Here, let me show you,” he covers Tommy’s right hand with his own, and pushes the heel of his palm into Tommy’s wrist. “You want to fold the dough onto itself, then roll your palm out while pressing down. A bagel dough is supposed to be pretty stiff, so feel free to put your whole body weight into it.”
“Like this?” Tommy mimics exactly what Buck just showed him.
“I’ll give you an A,” Buck turns his head around, meeting Tommy’s gaze. Their faces are so close together, they can feel each other breathing. “You’re a fast learner.”
“I have the best teacher,” Tommy murmurs.
They naturally gravitate towards each other, like two stars on a collision course, until their lips clash together into a sloppy, filthy open-mouthed kiss.
Pulling back slightly to gasp for air, Buck’s pupils are completely blown out, leaving merely a thin icy ring around his dark pool of arousal. “You can use both hands if you want…”
“Let me try that,” Tommy surrounds Buck in his arms, pinning him against the kitchen surface. Then, he starts working on the dough, using his entire body, making sure to time every pressing motion with a thrust from the hip, rocking the younger man into the edge of the counter.
“Mmm — Ah…” the friction generated by Tommy’s movement alone is enough to make Buck moan. He never thought baking could be this erotic. “That — That works…”
He allows himself to enjoy Tommy’s sweet show of strength for a few moments before firmly gripping Tommy’s wrists, stilling him. “It’s — It’s done. Now we put it back into the mixing bowl,” he hastily drops the dough into the metal container, causing a loud thud, “and leave it in the fridge overnight.”
Tommy gives him one more kiss on the cheek, and a pat on his lower back, “go,” then steps aside.
Buck nearly trips over his own feet walking towards the fridge. He hears water running in the background, probably over Tommy’s talented hands. Wrapping up the stainless steel bowl with more than enough plastic wrap, then shoving the whole thing into an empty corner of his fridge, Buck is all too eager to return to Tommy’s touch.
Slamming the fridge door close, Buck whips his head around in a millisecond to catch an eye full of Tommy in his shirtless glory for the first time in the night. He’s drying his hands with a kitchen towel, finger by finger, his biceps flex every time he rubs a digit clean.
Buck walks straight up to the object of his desire, waiting no time to close their distance. Hooking an elbow around Tommy’s neck, he pulls him into a deep, urgent kiss, while his free hand travels down from Tommy’s clavicle towards his nipple.
“Wait,” Tommy stops the exploring hand on its track, “wash your hands first.”
Buck groans in frustration. He unties the knot in his back, takes off his apron, then swiftly treks towards the kitchen sink to prepare himself for the ensuing nighttime activities.
Tommy follows him, settling snugly behind Buck while he’s cleaning his hands. Tommy slowly dips his mischievous fingers into Buck’s waistband, pleasantly surprised to find bare skin underneath.
“Oh, no underwear? Someone’s eager tonight,” Tommy says in a seductive tone.
Roughly drying his hands on his own shirt, Buck spins around to face Tommy, “I’ve been waiting for you to notice…” Feeling Tommy’s fingers tapping the hem of his top, Buck peels it off right away, letting those enormous hands roam free across his body.
“Bed?” Tommy asks in between kisses.
“Couch.” Buck pants.
Just when Buck’s calculating in his head the logistics of moving to the couch without breaking contact with his man, Tommy withdraws his hand from Buck’s bare skin.
“Hold on tight,” Tommy suddenly grabs onto the back of Buck’s thighs and lifts him clear off the ground, carrying him towards the underside of the loft.
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hislittleraincloud · 4 days ago
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LOL
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sunderwight · 9 months ago
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SV AU where, while Luo Binghe is supposed to be in the Abyss, Shen Qingqiu comes across a hellhound puppy.
Now, there is an arc in PIDW where Luo Binghe became a hellhound. But it happened like at least a century out from where they are in the timeline, after Binghe had come into his full demonic power, and involved him turning into a slavering beast that eventually become a slavering man-beast (werewolf, basically) who could only be cured by having a lot of very questionable sex with his wives. Shen Yuan wrote a rant about how yet another potentially interesting transformation arc was instead reduced to porn tropes, but it was one of several dozen such rants across many similar story arcs. Airplane barely even remembers writing it because he was having a pretty shit week and just wanted to get the chapters out.
So it doesn't really occur to either him or Shang Qinghua that finding a hellhound puppy might be suspicious. Unexpected, sure, but demons are turning up all over the place all the time, really. And it's years before Luo Binghe is even supposed to be out of the Abyss, like a century before his hellhound transformation story, and when Binghe did turn into a hellhound his two forms consisted of a fully-grown beast and a fully-grown man-beast. Not a puppy.
Of course: that hellhound puppy is definitely Luo Binghe.
He unwittingly triggered this subplot early, and because he's still a young adult, he gets stuck in a juvenile puppy form because hellhounds don't reach fully maturity until they're like fifty.
Anyway, this creates something of a pickle for Luo Binghe, because he's legitimately stuck in this form and can't figure out how to change back. This is not part of his plans. He's fleeing from Huan Hua Palace cultivators who are trying to kill him, which they might succeed at because his Heavenly Demon powers don't seem to be working.
He runs right into Shizun, who is on one of his "investigate stuff to forget the depression" field trips with Liu Qingge.
Luo Binghe is fully expecting his righteous Shizun to kill the demonic beast, and has a moment to think that at least that's better than being killed by Huan Hua, before Shizun rescues him instead.
Shen Qingqiu, meanwhile, is actually kind of excited. There was a lot of lore in PIDW about how hellhounds can actually make loyal companions if they're trained up from young enough of an age, but finding hellhound puppies would be difficult for anyone who wasn't a demonic nobleman, and most of the "trained" hellhounds just disappeared into the harem as gifts to various demon wives and were never seen or heard from again. No additional information, like the full extent of their abilities or what kind of companions they made beyond "loyal" or anything! A species of demon that could even potentially be domesticated by humans, and it was just left at that?!
Needless to say, Shen Qingqiu's not letting Huan Hua Palace kill this one. This is a rare chance for him to get a cool monster companion!
Although... such a creature might die when Luo Binghe comes to take his revenge.
Well, he'll deal with that when he has a chance. Maybe Shang Qinghua can take it to Mobei Jun or Shen Qingqiu can find another place for it before then. In the meanwhile, at least going back to Qing Jing Peak with him is better than being killed on the spot. He talks Liu Qingge into going along with it (Liu Qingge thinks he's insane but also folds like wet tissue paper), under stipulation that the hellhound's demonic energies are sealed and it gets muzzled before they bring it back with them.
Shen Qingqiu rides with it in a carriage, and feels so bad for the poor doggo looking miserable without his demon powers or even his mouth free that he secretly takes the muzzle back off while Liu Qingge isn't looking.
Luo Binghe is overwhelmed with the mixed sentiments of confusion (doesn't his shizun hate demons? is a Heavenly Demon really so especially repulsive to him?), happiness (he's going home! Shizun found him and is taking him home!), worry (Shizun please do not un-muzzle random demonic beasts just because they look sad!), and some rather embarrassing personal revelations about the appeal of being Shizun's pet. The latter situation worsens exponentially after the first time he gets good boy'd and petted for the first time.
Regardless, Shen Qingqiu does take him back to Qing Jing Peak and settles in to train and observe his new puppy. No one thinks this is precisely a good project but it is a project, and is not for instance "staring blankly into the distance while kneeling in front of a sword mound", so on balance everyone decides they'll just keep an eye on things and make sure the hellhound doesn't maul the peak lord. Lots of "just dropping in for a visits" by a rotating cast of peak lords (they have a schedule).
But the hellhound puppy is a fabulous pet! Actually, Shen Qingqiu thinks it's really remarkable how smart and readily tamed he is? Barely a few days in and he's obediently following Shizun's commands, except for "stay", which he seems to struggle with. He doesn't maul or threaten any of the disciples, only growls at Shang Qinghua sometimes and makes a few aggressive displays at Liu Qingge. The former case is just good taste, and as to the latter, well, clearly the hellhound is sensitive and intelligent, and has a more-than-rudamentary understanding of words spoken to him. He probably remembers that Liu Qingge wanted to kill him when they first met. Shen Qingqiu takes his time soothing his puppy and assuring him that he won't come to any harm, he's perfectly safe on Qing Jing Peak with Shen Qingqiu.
At least, for now.
Although actually, the more Shen Qingqiu thinks about it, the more convinced he becomes that Hellhound (sue him, he's not the best with names) would be a perfect companion for Luo Binghe once he gets out of the Abyss. The only difficulty would be in how to convince Binghe to accept him, and also how to keep his now-loyal hound from trying to defend his master when justice comes due. Shen Qingqiu figures he'll cross that bridge when he comes to it, and in the meanwhile takes some time to explain to Hellhound about his disciple, Luo Binghe, who is enduring a terrible trial in the Abyss, but who will return one day having become Emperor of the Demon Realms and could probably use a steadfast and intelligent companion who is interested in more than just his incredible amounts of power or irresistible good looks.
Luo Binghe Himself: ?!?!?!
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eddiernunson · 5 months ago
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Ice Cream, Bikinis, and Other Ways To Torture Him | Older Rockstar!Eddie x Harrington Fem!Reader | 18+
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Summary: The stories of Eddie Munson, front man of Corroded Coffin and his music filled the Harrington household, his albums on shelves and picture frames hung of your dad and him, young and dumb. You’re home for the weekend, which just so happens to be the same weekend Eddie is in Hawkins on a personal errand. The longtime crush on him bubbles to the surface as you meet him, giving into the temptation of small summer dresses and bubblegum gloss for the fun of it. Until your dad is called in to an emergency work meeting. Then the fun of torture becomes temptation.
Warnings: Older Rockstar!Eddie, Harrington!Reader (Steve’s daughter), multichapter build up, excessive use of nicknames, no use of y/n, use of marijuana, perv!Eddie, this chapter has some forced proximity, tension and uh oh feelings.
Describes: long hair, shorter than Eddie by a few inches, reader is described to look like her mom (can be ANY race) with Steve’s freckles. No skin colour, body shape/type
Word Count: 3.7k (it’s the shortest one, I promise I’m so sorry 😭)
Chapter 2
The first thing you did when you got into Eddie Munson’s little red corvette was peel the window open, claiming you had just needed some fresh air. It was true, as his scent had choked you as soon as you sat down on the dark gray leather seats. It’s strangely intoxicating, an odd mix of smoke, woodsy, and pure man that has you wanting to take a big whiff like some little pervert.
Strangely even from the window of a rockstar’s corvette the little town looked no more glamorous than it did from your beat up car, the small town feel of it all suffocating as you fill with gratitude you managed to get out. He finally pulls in front of a three story apartment, white walls and balconies so small they make you claustrophobic.
“Uh, how are we supposed to fill this small car with all your uncle’s stuff?” You ask, peering into the backseat as you undo your seatbelt.
He smiles, his eyes momentarily switching between the backseat of the two door car and you. “My van is in the resident’s parking lot, it should have plenty of room to move stuff over.”
“So, donation, your place and your uncle’s place, I’m guessing?” You ask, walking a step behind him to the front door of the building.
“Pretty much. It just comes down to going through it which I know, will be a fucking pain.” He reaches your eyes, giving you a small smile. “Thanks for coming.”
You didn’t have much of a choice.
“Not that you had much of a choice,” he adds as he opens the apartment door, a small bout of laughter filling the halls.
Okay, that was weird.
His uncle lived on the first floor in the corner room in a furnished spot, so all it came down to were the knicknacks he had collected over the years. You didn’t think that’d be so bad until you walked in, your eyes landing on wall to wall collections of mugs and hats and other tiny sentimental things.
“Pretty sure we’re going to end up donating most of the mugs, he doesn’t use them anyway, it’s the hats he’s been fighting tooth and nail for,” he rolls his eyes, grabbing a moving box you haven’t noticed from a stack in a pile against the wall.
“How’d those get here?”
“My assistant brought them with the van,” he explains, setting the box up. “He’s hanging out around town until we pack the van up.”
“Must be nice to have an assistant to take care of that shit,” you muse, your voice only the teeniest bit bitter about it.
He passes you the box, his shoulders shaking in laughter. “I’m aware it sounds pretentious. I only hired him when I kept losing track of which fucking thing I had to do next. Interview, show, interview, photo shoot…it was fucking never ending at times. Sometimes I needed a reminder to fucking eat.”
You grab the box from him, ignoring the twinge in your gut as you walk up to a bookshelf in the corner of the small living room containing many little things. You know time is of the essence, but you can’t help yourself, leaning over to analyze the display his uncle had created. There’s a photo in the center in a simple wooden frame, a gruff older man who you supposed would be Wayne standing arm in arm with Eddie, a much younger, freer Eddie, at least, standing outside in front of a forest area.
Eddie has his hand on his hip, squinting his eyes against the sun with his uncle's arm wrapped around his shoulder. If you’d looked closer, you’d see their reddened faces, blotchy from tears shed but both gritting their teeth for the picture.
“That was the day I left for LA,” you jump at his voice, holding your chest tightly as you turn to look around to face him.
He’s still across the apartment, wrapping the mugs and storing them in a tupperware box. “I have never seen him cry like that in my life. I was scared shitless.”
You avoid his stare, the starry eyed version of him something you’re not quite used to, something stirs deep in your gut that you find oddly unsettling.
In an attempt to ignore it you look closer at the knick knacks surrounding it, suddenly realizing it was just Corroded Coffin merch, tickets, and even demos. “These would be worth a pretty penny,” you turn over the tape in your hand, imagining a rough draft of Eddie’s untuned, inexperienced vocals. “To you, they must be priceless.”
“I could release them if I’d really wanted to, but the songs suck and my voice was even worse,” Eddie shrugs, still moving mugs into their different boxes. You notice how much fuller the one on the left is, Eddie making actual progress in comparison to your dilly-dallied snooping.
“I bet Wayne still wants this.” You sigh, placing the memorabilia gently in the cardboard box, admiring the faded ink from ticket stubs over twenty years ago. The following shelf had a full row of dark fantasy novels, every spine cracked to oblivion with yellowed crinkled pages. “Do you want these?”
Eddie looks over, absentmindedly wrapping a mug when he double, triple takes, his face lighting up like a kid on Christmas. “Oh I thought he threw those away!”
Suddenly the scent of his cologne invades your nose again as he leans right next to you, grabbing at one of the books on the shelf with a giddy grin. “I used to reread these all the time.”
“Princesses needing rescuing in some odd faraway land?” You tease, turning the dark green book over in your hand.
“Usually with some kind of twist,” he hums, analyzing the back of his paperback as he squats his ass an inch over the floor. “Dragons being in cahoots, noble knights acting selfishly, evil kings turning out to be righteously good… there was always some sort of twist,” his narration turned dramatic as the sentence moved on, a story teller’s voice.
It reminded you of one specific fun fact. “Uncle Dustin said you were his dungeon master in high school, were these any inspiration?”
Eddie’s brows furrow deeply, jerking his head as swivels sharply upward. “Somehow it’d slipped my mind that you would know Dust.”
You nod absentmindedly, taking in the fantastical names in the description. Lysandra the princess, Eletha the fae, King Alistair… “Unfortunately.”
“Hmm,” he peeps, fluttering through the pages. “Aah, Sorceress Nyrinn teaching Lysandra basic magic, this takes me back.”
You smile down at him, how his dimples are deeply embedded in his cheeks and his front canines peek from behind that wide grin as he skims through his harlequin equivalent chock full of fantasy and adventure.
“Any of these girls you’ve ever fantasized about rescuing?” You tease him, starting to toss the books in a box labeled Eddie Home. He remains silent, even a pink tinge dusting his ears. “I was joking, sire.”
“Just keep packing,” he grumbles, tossing the book carelessly into your very organized box. “I’m gonna go take a quick smoke break.”
You find yourself fallen into an easy pattern, having figured out what Eddie’s looking to keep very early on. He’s even willing to go through the boxes that have been long stored at Wayne’s apartment, insisting they don’t need any dead weight, not in Wayne’s small sized room, and not lugged across a few state lines back in LA.
One of the boxes stored in Wayne’s closet seems like it was just thrown together until you realize they were all belongings of a teenage boy. A soft smile graces your face as you imagine Wayne unable to part with the little part of seventeen year old Eddie he still had with him, even if it’s his messy room thrown into a box.
You pick up a small shoe box, the items clunkily jumping about when you shake it. It’s only logical that the box should hold a few dozen player’s dice and painted figurines. The box’s heavy weight is largely contributed to by the worn out and outdated version of the player’s manual.
You take note of the sticky notes curled and faded peeking out of the pages, messy scrawl noting a page Eddie must’ve used for referral once or twice.
One set of dice had a familiar red and plank pattern, painted to look like his prized guitar. You smooth your thumb along the ridged paint, putting the box aside for Eddie despite the protests he will so obviously yelp out.
He deserves to be a bit more forgiving of that side of himself.
There were a handful of items you picked up and put aside for donation, a few old music tapes, a guitar string placement poster, until something catches your eye; a well loved classified notebook.
Now, you might’ve been wrong, but you always had the feeling that Eddie wasn’t too interested in his school work, all items from his locker having been tossed in the garbage the moment the last bell rang each year. As you tentatively open the book, you realize it was probably the one thing that kept him going back.
Each lined paper was filled with his messy scrawl, an intriguing combination of cursive and print, extensively detailed plans for his run as, so Dustin called him, a vindictive and tyrannical dungeon master. Across the scrawl were doodles, well shaded pencil drawings of creatures and classes alike. One page caught your eye towards the end, a full page of scattered doodles that seemed eerily familiar to you.
“Wow.” You look up to face Eddie leaned against the door frame with his arms across his chest, his eyes trained on the notebook in your hands. “I haven’t seen that in a while.”
You glance back down to the page and its doodles, still trying to make sense of where you could’ve seen it. As if plucked out of thin air, a song starts playing in your head and it clicks. “Hey you used these doodles on an album cover.”
He nods, watching your hands gently touch the graphite on the paper. “You could totally donate these to a rock and roll museum; they'd think it's dope.”
Eddie shakes his head, as if the idea was ridiculous. “No one wants to see my ratty old notebook filled with my dateless evenings. There’s not even a single lyric in there.”
“But this is on one of your albums, isn’t it?”
He nods, smiling softly at the abstract doodles before glancing up to you. “I don’t want it, I would never look at it. Take it, if you want.”
You were already tempted to steal it, the notebook having a scent that’s so specifically Eddie with an added elixir of teenage boy added to the mix making maybe your one true Kryptonite. “Whaaaaat? Why would I take it?”
“Steve said you’re a fan of our music, yeah?” You nod meekly, still tracing the graphite. “Well if not, it's going in the trash.”
You put it in your purse.
Since your father left that morning, so did the tether that kept your head on straight, any lingering ideas kept at bay as you kept a safe distance. It was gone.
Keeping a safe distance as an act of self discipline all but seemed moot when your dad offered your services, now stuck in a tiny apartment working around Eddie as his gentle voice hums to the music blasting through his phone.
Maybe a dress isn’t the best choice to wear for manual labor such as packing and moving boxes, the length obviously not long enough to cover the bright underwear. Maybe it's the little allowance you give yourself to indulge in defiance against your own rule. Regardless, it was safer to stay as far away as possible.
Fate proves herself to be a cruel mistress as you find yourself on your tiptoes, reaching up to grab something on a shelf you wondered why someone elderly had a shelf stored so high on the wall, and you smelt him before you felt him, reaching to the shelf’s level to grab it for you.
“Why the hell did he have a shelf this fuckin’ high for?” He huffs, tossing the hidden box onto the bed.
He steps away as fast as he came, leaving the room with a few boxes you had packed and ready. The moment clouds your brain, his strong torso completely against your back, his hot breath on your neck as he stepped away. What the hell?
Your heart pitter patters, your whole body frazzled while you put a few more boxes by the door.
As you’re leaning down to pick up another box you hear Eddie swear loudly down the hall in disgust. He uses the lord’s name in vain several times, rubbing his hand on his pants as his face twists up in utter revulsion when you peek out to see the culprit.
“Somethin’ gross? I don’t see anything wrong with this picture,” you comment, looking around his setting for what might have set him off.
“Don’t–” his hands fly up to prevent you from taking another step. His overly wide eyes and panicked state would usually have you laughing if you weren’t so curious to what could possibly send him into this frantic state of disgust. “You don’t want to know, trust me.”
“Now I really do want to know,” you insist, still scanning the room.
“No. You don’t.” He shakes his head solemnly, his foot slowly shuffling slightly to his left. “Seriously.”
“Can I at least have a hint?” You plead, knowing the possibilities will drive you crazy all day.
“I just found a box of my old clothes,” Eddie starts, gesturing to a kaleidoscope of different shades of black with an occasional band font, unfolded as if thrown in a hurry.
He obviously is hinting towards something, but you need some more exposition. “...Ok?”
Eddie pauses to think, hands on his hips as he racks his brain for something. “Think of it this way. Think of the one item of clothing you don’t want to find under a teenage boy’s bed, twenty years later. Especially twenty years later.” He shudders again.
The one thing…oh. “Oh my god,” you giggle, hiding your obvious glee over his disgust behind your hand. “A…sock?”
Eddie nods slowly, nodding his head in what must be mortification. “Uh huh. I am burning this whole bucket of clothes that just–” he shudders, his left foot inching towards where you had to now guess what must be an absolutely petrified cum-sock lies, “marinated in it.”
A bout of laughter passes through your lips again, disguising the odd intrigue you found yourself in. You might be more perverted than even you initially realized.
No, put away the thought of inhaling in the 20-year-old musk–
“Hey, do you mind helping me with this box? It’s ridiculously heavy,” Eddie gestures down the hall to a tote seemingly filled to the brim with random shit, the sock supposedly tossed into the garbage by then.
“No problem.”
“You want me to walk backward?” He offers, reaching your eyes as you both bend over to grab at the awkward edges.
“Yeah that’d be great,” You cough, failing to ignore the cigarette on his breath just barely disguised by the mint.
Step by step you help him around the corners until you help lift the box into his van, refusing to allow yourself more than a singular moment lingering on how his arms bulge through the lift.
Wayne had a bedside table he hadn’t gone through, filled with momentums over the years. You grab one of the smaller boxes from the living room to hold them, wanting to take care of the things that Wayne had cared for. There were a few photos, Eddie in scattered years from an angsty teenager to a rowdy kid with a missing front tooth. It was obvious everything in his bedside would be moved back to Wayne, allowing him his precious memories of the boy he cared for.
Allotted between the table and the bed is a photo album, something you suspect is cover to cover filled with more photos until you get the glimpse of a brightly coloured pape, just a millisecond but enough to peak your curiosity.
By the second page you’re in tears, softly sniffling at messy scribblings with silly puns and elaborate doodles.
“Hey, when you get a sec–” Eddie stops mid-sentence, taking you in on the bare bed as you weepily turn a page. “You okay?”
“Oh,” you wipe away the tear that was shed, embarrassed. “I’m fine. It’s just— it’s so obvious he went through this a lot, some pages are worn out.”
“Let’s see,” he holds his hand out for the photo album, a drop of weight on the bed as he peers shoulder to shoulder with you as he reads over the pages in front of you. “Oh, wow.”
You put the book in his outstretched hands, watching his expression turn misty as well. The deceitful photo album is an album of father’s day cards, about twenty of them all lined in a row with Eddie’s well wishes in each one.
“I started sending them when I was 25,” he mumbles, his voice wet as he turns a page. “I figured since he raised me n’ all, he deserved the title and the recognition.”
“Seems like he felt honored,” you comment, watching page by page.
“I picked these cards out in less than a second but he puts them in a pressed fucking photo album,” he laughs, shaking his head. “Wayne is ridiculous. But he’s always been my biggest supporter.”
Impulsively, you nudge your chin on his shoulder affectionately, watching him flip through the last through the final few pages. You wondered if his vulnerability making you even crazier for him would be an isolated incident.
God sure had a sick sense of humor when he tied emotion and lust for women.
Turns out, you two work remarkably well together because by the time Eddie places the photo album in the box with a not so subtle sniffle, Wayne’s room, kitchen, and livingroom are all packed up and ready for distribution. The things going home with Eddie and to Wayne’s room are in the van stacked like tetris with your very ‘helpful’ commentary and the donations are piled up by the front door waiting for their collection.
The little red corvette has been sitting in the hot sun for a few hours by the time you’re back into it, ready for a night off your feet.
“I don’t know about you, but I’m starving,” Eddie comments, taking a turn away from your house.
Your stomach growls at the mention of food, still only two slices of toast being the one thing used to sustain your appetite for the day. “I could definitely eat.”
“Good, I need to thank you for your help.”
You avoid his intense gaze from the corner of your eye, staring holes into your thighs. “It was nothing–”
“What’s your favourite spot in town?” Eddie seems to be ignoring your protests, meeting them with an exaggerated huff as if you were acting foolish.
“I don’t mind if you take me to the nearest one, Munson. I’m starving,” you insist, laughing at the manic shaking of his head.
“I’m not taking you anywhere except your favorite spot,” Eddie insists right back, without missing a beat.
No wonder he and Steve had managed to stay friends for so long, he matches your stubbornness step for step.
“Fine! Take me to Miss.Tina’s I haven’t had their burgers since I’ve been back,” you think back to their fully stacked burgers paired with their crinkle fries drizzled in mustard. You still haven’t been able to find a burger from a local restaurant near your campus that even rivals Miss.Tina’s recipe.
“Oh, I know you’re fucking with me,” Eddie laughs, taking the left turn at the traffic lights.
“Nope,” you inform him, shaking your head slowly. “It’s always been my favourite place in town.”
“Well call that dumb luck, because it’s my fuckin’ favourite place, too.”
“I take it back.”
You laugh at his deadpan, noting the new decor around the walls since the last time you’ve seen it.
“It’s not that bad.” It is, you’re just hoping he doesn’t leave because of the change.
“Are you shitting me?” Eddie deadpans, glancing around to the updated insides now turned into a hollow husk of a restaurant. At least, it certainly felt like the funeral march of your once beloved restaurant. “It’s a horrendous study in interior design. Who the hell paints the inside of a restaurant bright orange?”
“Ok, it’s that bad, but I just need a damn good burger.” You lead the way into the line, noting their updating point of sale. Last time you were there the employee had still been using a notepad, this time an iPad had been stationed on a stand.
The employee now wears some updated uniform barring the design, a bright smile on her face as she greets the two of you. Definitely not the deadened stare you were used to.
The mustard packet you received was a third of the size of what they used to be. It seems Miss.Tina’s has finally met empty corporate capitalism.
The decor might’ve changed, but the recipes remain as always untouched, a collective groan in satisfaction in your first bites in the tacky booth confirmation that Miss.Tina’s still fucks.
“If they change their recipe they are so screwed,” Eddie says exactly what you’re thinking between bites, wiping his face from the sauces that splatters his lips. As he wipes it off, you start to think of making out with him in the booth and lapping up and cleaning his messy face for him. Some real good messy make outs.
You nod, taking a sip from the large soda that must be at least 5 ounces smaller. “Oh, they’d shut down within the week.”
“This was one of the only few places where every group in Hawkins High could be seen, because they didn’t care when we loitered and Miss.Tina treated us like her own.” Eddie glances upward at a sign right by the table, NO LOITERING.
“That’s kind of really depressing,” you sigh, munching on your fry through a fucking wooden fork. “I am not sure I want these fries lathered in mustard enough to also add the taste of wood to it.”
“Plenty of wood has been tasted in these walls before,” Eddie smirks, raising his pierced brow when you choke on the following fry.
It’s like he prides himself on how he manages to make your brain short circuit so easily. Thankfully, years of being raised in the Harrington household has trained a keen sense of wit into you. “Judging on those princess books, Munson,” you take another sip, letting the beginning of your sentence settle in, “doesn’t seem like yours was one of them.”
The fry that bounced off your forehead the moment after was worth it, and the rosy pink that bloomed across his cheeks was even more so.
-
I have 99% done at this point I’m so excited for y’all to read it!!!
Main taglist: @arlxt @alastorssimp @mmunson86 @pinkcowracing @yourthebrokengirl @skrzydlak @thirddeadlysin @sammararaven @bebe07011 @prettylovley @josephquinnschesthair @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you @names-were-taken @oddussy420
Taglist for Ice Cream, Bikinis, and Other Ways To Torture Him: @emxxblog @transparentenemypenguin @stylesxmunson @ali-r3n @mediocredreams @miaajaade @dreamerjj @prestinalove @pretty-pink-princess @alesiaaa @moonisu @love-anonymous-writer @marlena-marlena @bl1ssfulbaby @kellsck @rockmusiciscalming12 @eddie-munsonsbitch
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arachine · 2 years ago
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♡ ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و 。・* . . . their firsts .ᐟ
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ᥫ᭡ featuring :: neteyam, lo’ak and kiri sully
ᥫ᭡ includes :: their first kisses & times !!
ᥫ᭡ genre :: mature
ᥫ᭡ general tags :: sexual content (nothing explicit), fluff
ᥫ᭡ content warnings :: characters are aged up, dry humor
ᥫ᭡ note :: depending on the attention this receives, i may or may not make a part two with spider, tsireya, and a’onung >_<
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♯ first…kiss with neteyam .ᐟ
+ neteyam’s got that older brother charm. a real gentleman, through and through—which isn’t the least bit surprising because he’s neytiri’s son, after all. and given this, he just…naturally excels at most things, even kissing. when it happens, it’s kind of almost unreal, sort of like a fairytale. he’s just so…good at it, doesn’t rush you, or force his tongue down your throat, or do anything that would even slightly make you uncomfortable. 
no, he’s slow—methodical. takes his time with you because he wants to taste you, and commit it to memory. i’d like to think he even makes you laugh before he goes in, because he’s just like that, you know? like, yeah, he’s got neytiri’s whole face but he’s still his daddy’s son—he’s got the smugness and attitude to prove it. 
♯ first…time with neteyam .ᐟ
+ god, i don’t even know where to begin. every fiber of my being believes that he’d make it the most comfortable, painless experience ever. usually, most people dread their firsts—simply because their partners didn’t: 1) prep them properly, 2) make sure that they finished, or 3) provide aftercare—but neteyam? yeah, he’s going above and beyond, and checking off every single one! you being in pain and miserable was simply never an option.
as previously mentioned, i’d like to think he’d try and calm your nerves by making you laugh. just a few jokes here and there, just to get your mind off of the initial stretch of his fingers working you. 
— “who’s the prettiest girl on pandora?” he teases, leaving zephyr-light kisses all over your face. you think he’s so corny, but giggle anyway, shoving lightly at his chest. 
“stop it!” but he’s relentless, still peppering your face with kisses, still prodding your slit. you’re so distracted by his attempts to calm your nerves, that you don’t even notice his finger is all the way in. not until he pulls it out and praises you for opening up for him.  
— “see, look at you,” a gentle hand rises to caress your cheek, “so pretty.” 
♯ first…kiss with lo'ak .ᐟ
+ the concept of patience is entirely foreign to him. patience and him are like oil and water. they just don’t mix. he’s a here, now, and fast type of guy, always has been. and when the moment arises between you two, he’s the first to initiate it—however, it’s no fairytale moment. it’s toothy, wet, and inexperienced. 
i’d like to think it’s you who has to take the initiative when it comes to kissing. and through this, he begins to get a sense of the things you like: how slow he should go, how much tongue, where he should hold you, and how he should move his lips. eventually, he gains enough confidence to kiss you the way he’s been wanting to kiss you—which is hard, and rough, and passionate—just a lot less toothy and wet. 
♯ first…time with lo'ak .ᐟ
+  it’s all baby steps and hand holding with him in this department too. this is the one instance in which i don’t think he’d charge into. i think after kissing you for the first time, he’d use some of that knowledge to decipher how he’d go about it. at first, he’s like incredibly scared to touch you, just hovering over you like a sheet of paper, scared that if he uses just the slightest amount of strength, you’ll break or something. 
— “does that hurt?” / “can you feel that?” / “maybe if we try it this way…” / “am i in?” 
the sentiment is cute, thoughtful even. because don’t get me wrong, a man that takes the time to ask you how he should touch you, where he should touch you, and how you’re feeling during sex is amazing. bravo to any guy who does it (it’s the bare minimum), but lo’ak does it to the point where you’re questioning if he’s scared of pussy. overall, i think this is something you’ll have to take the initiative for too.
— “lo’ak if you don’t touch me right now, i swear to god i’m going to kill you and then myself.” 
♯ first…kiss with kiri .ᐟ
+ my sweet girl. my bestest girl. i just know it’d be so fucking cute. like actually, the type of kiss where your leg slowly springs up (i.e. the princess diaries). yeah, it’d be that good. girls just do everything better anyway, and it’s kiri, so the expectations were already high (duh). the thing about kiri is, when she kisses, she really commits to the kiss. she doesn’t do half-assed, because kissing is like dessert. 
it’s supposed to be (especially first kisses) sweet, and airy, and dizzying—and it is! the amalgamation of her tender touches, and the little giggles in between, and the teasing ‘run and follow’ your lips do…are all things that add to the experience. a kiss with kiri will literally have you on speed dial with uhaul, trust and believe!
♯ first…time with kiri .ᐟ
+ like neteyam, she’d be so attentive. just making sure you’re comfortable, reassuring you, whispering words of encouragement, and checking in on you mentally. she knows that sex can be exhausting (both physically and mentally), so i’d like to think she’d spend extra time on foreplay and aftercare than she would during the actual act itself—not that she had to spend much time on you anyway, because getting you to finish wasn’t something she considered to be much of a feat. 
also, kiri is a princess, she’s literally the first born daughter. she may often appear to have a tough exterior, but…it’s just a front. dote on her and shower her with the same affections she showered you with, treat her like a little doll and watch her crumble underneath your fingertips from the smallest of praises. 
— “such a sweet girl, staying open for me.” / “could watch you do that all day.” / “nobody touches me the way you do.” 
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© arachine 2023
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miraculouslyfine · 28 days ago
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bombed it.
Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!Reader (Doesn't follow the events of anything, established relationship) Synopsis: Peter is extremely concerned about his girlfriend's safety, she doesn't really share the same sentiment, and they fight, like a lot
Word Count: 10,8k
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"You can't be serious”   “I'm sorry, Y/n, but you have to choose”  
~
Peter and Y/n rarely fought.   
They just got each other. They understood each other on a deeper level; their shared traumatic experiences definitely played a part in this mutual understanding. Their love had been tested and tempered, growing stronger with every challenge they faced together. Throw some ever-growing affection and trust into the mix, and there you have it: a happy, healthy relationship.  
Sure, they had their fair share of squabbles and petty arguments, just like any couple, really. But they both valued honesty and communication. They were open about their feelings in any and every given situation, always making sure they see eye to eye, always trying to find middle ground. After all, that's what relationships are for, right? Compromise.   
Peter was willing to give up a lot of things to ensure Y/n's happiness. Nothing mattered to him more than making sure his beautiful girlfriend, his best friend, the love of his life was perfectly contented with how things were between them. Well, almost nothing.  
The one thing Peter would never budge on was Y/n's safety. That was non-negotiable. He felt it was his duty as her boyfriend, as her superhero -superpowered superhero- boyfriend, to protect her, to make sure she never got hurt.  
Now, Y/n Stark was no damsel in distress and by no means a stranger to danger and all kinds of superhero-related adventures and difficulties. Having grown up with the Avengers, her involvement with the team of heroes was inevitable.   
She was –according to the rest of the team, Peter included- a vital part of the Avengers. She took part in missions, though in a less dynamic and active sense, usually helping come up with different strategies and plans (you can never be too careful!). She brought a “much needed unique and fresh perspective to the team", as her dad used to say (“I just overthink a lot, it's not that big of a deal", she would always mutter under her breath, causing Peter to roll his eyes and playfully flick her on the head).  
Even though Tony (mostly Pepper) didn't want his daughter risking her life and getting caught up in the superhero world, he knew that if push came to shove, she needed to be able to protect herself. Plus, he couldn't deny that she had a talent. Her combat skills, ideas, creations, and great planning and thinking ahead skills were more than appreciated within the community. She was trained by the Black Widow herself for god's sake, she knew what she was doing. 
So what could have caused this schism between them, causing Peter to leave the comfort of their bed, deciding to spend the night on the couch instead, away from the feeling of her warm body next to him? 
Peter knew what she was doing. Sneaking out of the house in the middle of the night, right after he'd come back from his own patrol. She thought she was being sly about it, too. Really, Y/n? Now you're just insulting my intelligence. 
It's one thing to play vigilante and another to outright lie about it. And Peter hated lies almost as much as he hated not knowing whether she was safe or not. And these late-night activities of hers were starting to piss him off. They were not good for his heart, either. Every time he heard the soft sound of their bed creaking as she got out of it at ungodly hours, he could feel his chest tightening. He always tried to fight the urge to get up and immediately follow after her, just to make sure she wasn't doing anything reckless. 
He didn't realize right away. She didn't look like she had spent half the night fighting crime, at first. She'd return a couple of hours before he was supposed to wake up. She'd make sure there were no visible injuries and she'd go on with her day. She really thought he'd never find out (or at least not before she felt he was ready to find out). 
After a few days, the lack of sleep was apparent. And no matter how hard she tried denying it, or playing it off, Peter could tell something was up. It didn't take him long to start putting one and one together; her tiredness, some unexplainable scratches here and there, the fact that crime in NYC seemed to have subsided. 
Peter knew. And he didn't like what was happening, not one bit. They had talked about it once, a while back. She had done this before-gone around his back to play hero-, or at least attempted to, before Peter (with a little needed help from her overprotective, over the top father, the little snitch) brought an end to it. He thought she had understood, that she saw how she was being ridiculous and unreasonable. Recklessly throwing herself in danger, all in the name of proving something? That didn't sound like his very intelligent, very MINDFUL girlfriend. 
He tried talking to her again. He gave her the chance to come clean about her activities. She denied everything. 
He was mad. He was hurt. He felt betrayed. Not only did she ignore his warnings and went about it behind his back, she was also lying to his face. 
And they fought. It was bad. It was unlike any previous fight they had. They were screaming at each other, hurtful words flying in the air, the tension in the room palpable. It was getting late, they were both tired, frustrated and upset. 
"Y/n, for the last time. You're being stubborn about this. All I'm saying is there are ways for you to help without being ON the field. Without recklessly risking your life-" 
"For god's sake, Peter. You're acting like I'm some adrenaline junkie, picking up fights with random people at the bar! I am helping you-" 
"Helping me? You think making me stay up all night, worrying if you're gonna make it back in one piece, is helpful? Geez, what would I ever do without you?", he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm  
"No one asked you to stay up. I know what I'm doing. I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I'm trained and-" 
"Oh, you're trained? Why didn't you just say so?" 
She sighed heavily and rubbed her temples.
"Are you done? I'm trying to talk here and you're acting like a child!" 
"I'm the one acting like a child? You're acting like an angsty teen, sneaking around, ignoring everything and everyone!", he realized his voice came out a bit higher than intended. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. 
"Listen, Y/n, this isn't a game. Your life is not a game. You're putting yourself in danger. Hell, you're putting civilians in danger! What do you think you're doing, running around playing hero? Hm? You think you're tough for going out there all on your own? You're not tough, Y/n. You're dumb. You're dumb and reckless. What do you think will happen? You think you'll be lucky every time? That nothing bad will ever happen because you are trained? All it takes is one miscalculation, Y/n, one wrong move on your end, for things to take a really bad turn. Your luck will eventually run out. You could get hurt or..." 
He took a deep breath. He didn't dare finish that sentence. The thought of ever losing her was too much for him to handle. 
"You're not invincible, no matter how hard got try to convince yourself. You don't have healing factor, you don't have super strength, enhanced senses. NOTHING. You're intelligent, yes. You're incredible, you're creative, innovative, truly one of the smartest people I've ever met. You've got heart, I recognize that. But it's not enough. Your gadgets and devices won't save you every time."  
"One bullet", his voice cracked, "one bullet, Y/n, and you're gone. Do you get it now? GONE. DEAD. Do you understand the severity of the situation? You're risking your life. And for what? Five seconds of fame? To prove you're worthy of being your father's child? What are you trying to do?", he shook his head, frustration evident in his mannerisms. 
He took a good look of her. The sight immediately broke his heart. Her gaze sparkled with a delicate brightness, the unshed tears amplifying every flicker of emotion. He felt the need the need to reach out to her, to touch her (whether that was in order to hug or strangle her he didn't know for sure). But he didn't give in. He couldn't back down. Not when her safety was on the line. He needed her to understand, to see where he was coming from. 
The tears in her eyes refused to fall, clinging stubbornly to her lashes as her glare cut through the air like a blade. Who does he think he is? 
"This is what you think I'm doing? Showing off? Trying to prove a point?", a bitter chuckle escaped her. "No, Peter. I'm being helpful. I'm helping you, the cops, the people of New York. Why do you always do this? Why do you have to be like this? Why do you think you get to decide what’s best for me? I’m trying to help you, and you're out here treating me like I'm some kind of criminal, some kind of liability, an inconvenience to you! Do you think I don’t know the risks? Do you think I’m blind to the danger? I know what I’m walking into, but it’s my choice to make, not yours! You act like I’m some fragile thing that needs protecting, but I’m not, so stop acting like it.” 
“I'll stop when you start acting like a responsible adult for once”, he replied bitterly. 
“You're not a little girl anymore, Y/n. Tony won't be always there to save you and -as much as it pains me to say- neither will I” 
“I never-” 
"You never asked me to?", he run his hand through his hair in a frustrated manner. 
“I know. God, Y/n, I know. You're so goddam stubborn. You'd rather die than ask anyone for help. You're always so eager to prove your independence, that you don't need anyone to have your back. Well, news flash! You're not invincible. You're not some kind of god. And you're certainly not a hero. You can't just shrug off a bullet or an explosion or whatever insane thing you decide to get involved in next! You're human, so start acting like it. You're not expendable. Selfish is what you are.”  
"Selfish? You think I'm selfish? For what? For wanting to help people? Don't you see the irony of this coming from you?”, she let out a laugh in incredulity, unable to even fathom how he could ever say that to her. 
“You think this is about me? You think I'm just out here looking for glory or some kind of thrill? I’m doing what needs to be done, and if you can’t see that, then maybe you don’t understand me at all. You’re calling me selfish, but the truth is, you’re the one being selfish here. You’re more concerned with your own fear, your own worries, than you are about the bigger picture. I’m not out there for me. I’m doing what I can, what I have to, because I don’t want to sit back and let things happen when I know I can make a difference.” 
Peter was fuming. 
"God, this is ridiculous. I can't keep doing this, I just can’t! You’re out of control! Every damn time I turn around, you're throwing yourself into some insane situation, thinking you’re some kind of superhero. What do you think this is—some kind of game? You act like nothing can touch you, but that’s bullshit! You’re human, you’re not indestructible, and I’m getting sick of it. 
What do you think happens if you get hurt? Or worse, if you die? Oh, wait, you don’t think, do you? No, you’re too busy basking in the glory of your own self-righteousness to realize the mess you’d leave behind. Because, guess what? I’m the one who’d have to pick up the pieces. Me. The one who’s standing here, constantly worried, because you’re too damn reckless to care about the people who love you.  
You want to help people? Fine, but not at the expense of your own life! You think I’m just supposed to stand here, watching you put yourself in danger, all for some stupid idea of being a hero? Are you kidding me?! What the hell is wrong with you? Why can’t you just be safe for once? Why do you have to go and do these reckless things that make my heart stop every single time? Do you even care about the people who love you?”, his chest rose and fell in sharp, measured movements, a betrayal of the battle raging within. 
She crossed her arms, her fingers digging into her skin as if trying to tether herself to composure 
“I know what I'm doing.”, she spat out. That was... a weak argument, that much she knew. But in her ~slightly~ emotional state, it was all she could over without completely breaking down in tears. 
It seemed like that single comment angered Peter to no end, making him laugh bitterly in return. 
“Do you think growing up in the Avenger's Tower makes you one of them? Here's a reality check: your little stunts don't make you a hero. They make you a liability. And if you keep this up, I don't know how much longer I can deal with it. Because I can't spend my life wondering if the next time you pull this crap will be the last time I ever see you” 
But Peter was on a roll, he couldn't stop there. 
“And you know what’s even worse? You don’t even care. You don’t care that you scare the hell out of me. You don’t care that I am waiting back here, while you do something so unbelievably reckless that might result in me losing you. Because it’s always about you, isn’t it? Your need to prove something, your need to feel important. Never mind the people you leave behind to pick up the pieces!” 
And... silence. Complete and utter silence. 
It wasn’t the kind of silence that comes from comfort; it was loaded with the weight of accusations and defenses that would never be voiced. 
Peter winced. He regretted saying those words as soon as they came out of his mouth. He was getting to her, he could tell. He also knew he was being kind of an ass about the whole thing, but he really needed her to understand how unreasonably stubborn she was being. He needed her to be safe, but it seemed like she didn't value her wellbeing all that much. He couldn't stand that. 
Ouch. That...yeah, that did the trick. It wasn't just what he said, it was mostly how he said it. So... cold and distant, poisonous almost. Like he was taunting her. She could barely recognize the man in front of her. That wasn't her sweet, loving boyfriend, her Pete, her biggest supporter. 
She understood his point of view. She is less experienced than him, especially in the sense of getting personal with the villains. The fact that she doesn't have any powers didn't help her much either. She knew he was worried about her safety, that all his anger was stemming from a place of love (even though it wasn't that evident that particular moment). But she also hoped he'd have more faith in her. After all, she is always careful, with at least three backup plans ready, just in case. She always follows protocol, doesn't make any rush decisions. And she's Iron Man's daughter for fucks sake, she does know what she's doing. 
“A liability, huh?” 
Her eyes were distant, gazing at something far beyond the room, avoiding contact like it might burn. It felt like there was an invisible wall around her, not built to shut others out but to keep herself from crumbling 
He sighed and spoke again, this time in a slightly softer tone. 
“I didn't mean it like that... I'm sorry. Look, Y/n, what I'm trying to say is I’m scared out of my mind, and I can't keep pretending like I’m okay with this. Every time you leave, I’m terrified you won’t come back. Every time you walk out the door, I wonder if I’ll be standing at your grave one day, all because you thought it was some heroic act to put yourself at risk. You think that’s noble? It’s selfish! It’s selfish because you’re not just risking yourself—you’re ripping apart the people who care about you.” 
He took another shaky, deep breath and spoke in a gentle, yet firm tone, his gaze intense. 
“I can't lose you, okay? I won't. And you doing this-this reckless, stupid, selfish thing- is how that's going to happen. If something ever happens to you... I won't forgive you for it.” 
His voice lowered but remained firm, trembling slightly.  
“And I won't forgive myself either”  
Silence settled over them once again. It was thick, like a fog settling over the room, muffling everything but the sound of their breathing. It was the kind of silence that pressed against your chest, making it hard to breathe, as though the room itself disapproved. They sat stiffly, their gazes deliberately avoiding each other, the distance between them more like a chasm than a few feet. 
Peter cleared his throat. 
Things were not looking good for them right now. He didn't like it, not one bit. The room felt suffocating, the once light and warm atmosphere long gone. He truly hated fighting with her. He wished this conversation never happened. They'd be laying on the couch now in each other's arms, with her on top of him, her head on his chest, her arms lazily draped over him as he'd run his fingers through her hair, holding her close. Just talking about their day while some movie played in the background. That's what we should be doing, Peter thought. Instead, here they were, avoiding eye contact like they were about to face Medusa. But this conversation couldn't be held off any longer. 
Soon enough the silence became unbearable. 
“Maybe it's best if we just-”  
“I should-” 
As soon as they heard the other person talking, they both closed their mouths, resulting in yet another moment of awkward silence. So in sync these two, it was almost endearing. 
Peter tilted his head slightly toward her, eyebrows raised in a silent invitation to speak. 
Her eyes closed briefly before they looked up, a flicker of acknowledgment passing over her face as she nodded weakly before speaking in an uncharacteristically quiet tone. 
“Maybe we should take some time alone... to...cool off...you know...?”  
Peter sighed. This conversation hadn't led to anything. Anything other than hurt, frustration and a headache, that is. Hours of an endless emotional back and forth, all for nothing. They hadn't reached an agreement and he was certain they weren't seeing eye to eye. And this wasn't a matter he was willing to back down from, she had to realize that her actions affected him as well. 
He understood where she was coming from, he really did. He understood better than anyone the burning need to help, the desire to make a difference, that deep sense of responsibility to the world. He *is* Spider-Man after all, that's his thing; he cares, he acts. He feels the moral duty to use his abilities to protect others, often at great personal cost. He doesn't mind. Or, at least, he didn't in the past (it is kind of different when you have someone at home waiting for you, you just got to be more careful, you know?). 
But he doesn't want that for her. Never for her. 
Maybe he was the selfish one for getting mad at her. Maybe he was selfish for hating knowing she was out there somewhere, all alone, taking justice into her own hands. But is it really selfish of him not wanting to see her getting hurt over something completely preventable? Why would she be out there risking her life when HE could be doing that instead? Did she not realize how much she meant to him?  
He didn't want them to separate, not like this, not right now. But he really didn't feel like continuing this conversation. He was exhausted, his emotions all over the place, a hint of irritation still lingering. He could tell she was tired too. Plus, he still had today's patrol. 
He reluctantly nodded. 
“Yeah...maybe we should. I have to go anyway. We'll talk about this later, okay?” 
She just nodded in response and retreated to their bedroom. Peter stood there for a moment, contemplating his next move. He hesitantly made his way to the door. He didn’t want to go, not really—but a small, guilty part of him was already savoring the thought of the space he'd have once he left. There was a flicker of regret in his eyes as he turned away, quickly replaced by a soft exhale and a lighter step. He hesitated at the threshold, his hand hovering over the doorknob for a moment longer than necessary before finally turning it. As he stepped out, he paused for a moment, as if expecting Y/n to call him back, but when she didn't, his posture eased, and he moved forward with renewed purpose. This is gonna be fun.
Peter soon disappeared into the night, busying himself by fulfilling Spider-Man's duties. He went about with his usual routine, swinging around the most common areas, the sketchiest ones, the streets most accidents happen on. But it was an uncharacteristically quiet night; no supervillains threatening to wipe out NYC, no petty criminals running around causing chaos, no cats on extremely high trees needing saving. 
Someone asked him for directions, so there was that.  
(A man can't even escape his thoughts in peace, smh) 
Hours passed, and it was getting later and later. Frustration, worry, and exhaustion started to catch up with him. He was tired, his body screaming for rest and his heart begging for an end to this whole ordeal. After a couple of hours of killing time by meaninglessly swinging around, Peter decided it was finally time he returned home- to her.  
Peter returned to the apartment, his body tired and aching, frustration still gnawing at his. On his way back he wondered whether or not he'd find her there. She could've gone to a friend's or at her parents’ house to avoid him. She could’ve completely ignored him and left to play vigilante again. He prayed that wasn't the case. Honestly? He half expected her too, if anything just to spite him. 
He quietly entered, not knowing what to expect, but the place was quiet and empty. He scanned the room and the first thing he noticed was the food on the kitchen counter, a silent gesture from her. 
He grumbled to himself, still somewhat irritated by her behavior. But the mere sight of the food, still warm and waiting for him, softened his frustration just a bit. Despite everything, she still cared enough to think about him. 
He walked over to the counter, his stomach rumbling with hunger. He sat at the table, quietly eating the food, his mind still going over the events of the night. He couldn't stop the frustration from bubbling up, but he also couldn't ignore the fact that he was exhausted. The food tasted good, but it didn't do much to satisfy his frustration. He still wanted answers, he still wanted her to stop this nonsense. 
He let out a quiet sigh, the sound echoing in the empty room. He was tired, both physically and emotionally. He knew he needed to sleep, to rest and recharge. 
Peter opened the door to their bedroom and was immediately hit with a wave of surprise. Y/n was asleep in their bed, looking deceptively peaceful. Peter's eyes narrowed as he watched her.  
He wanted to wake her up, to confront her and put an end to this. But seeing her there, asleep and defenseless, made him pause. Peter grumbled internally, torn between his irritation and the sight of her peacefully sleeping in their bed. He knew he should wake her and confront her, but something about seeing her there, so calm and vulnerable, made his anger soften just a little. Instead of waking her up, he opted to sit on the edge of the bed, his eyes watching her as she slept. The frustration was still there, but there was a hint of worry and care underneath it all.  
“Hey, baby. There's food on the kitchen”. Her voice was soft and muffled, more like a murmur than actual speech, as though weighed down by sleep. 
As Y/n spoke in her sleep, Peter's annoyance melted away just a little more. Her sleepy voice was almost endearing, and her concern for his well-being, even in her half-conscious state, touched a softer part of him. 
He let out a soft sigh and ran a hand through his hair, his irritation fading into the background. Seeing her like this reminded him that beneath all the chaos and recklessness, she was still the girl he cared about.  
He couldn't bring himself to wake her up or to confront her right now, especially not when she was in such a vulnerable state. Instead, he sat there, watching her sleep, his mind swirling with a mix of frustration, care, and a bit of tenderness. 
He still had so many questions, and he was still upset about her antics, but for now, he was content to just sit there, listening to her gentle breathing and feeling a strange sense of peace in the room. Tomorrow would be another day for confrontations and discussions. 
Peter sat there for a few more minutes, just watching her sleep. The silence of the room was soothing, and the frustration he felt earlier was slowly fading away. 
With a deep sigh, he finally decided it was time to get some sleep himself. He carefully got up and made his way out of the room, quietly closing the door behind him. 
As he settled into the couch, he couldn't help but wonder what tomorrow would bring. He knew he'd have to talk to her again, to get answers and hopefully put an end to her vigilante streak. 
This is bad, she thought. 
Peter's presence –or absence- had woken her up from her already somewhat disrupted sleep. She kept replaying today's events in her head, almost as if she were trying to make herself angrier and more anxious. She didn't like fighting with him. Sure, she didn't agree with him in the slightest and his words angered her to no end, she couldn't deny that she missed him terribly, especially now that she had the whole bed to herself, feeling like it'd swallow her whole. 
Since when does he sleep on the couch, anyway? Why did he get to act immaturely and petty? Why didn't he want to sleep in bed with her? He was the one in the wrong, blowing things out of proportion. 
After staring at the ceiling for God knows how long, she decided she'd just go for it. She could be stubborn; she was certainly not above acting petty after a fight. But she missed him. A lot. She yearned for the warmth of his body, the feeling of his arms around her. She decided pettiness (and the talk they're bound to have) would have to wait until tomorrow morning. 
She pushed the covers aside sluggishly, her arms moving as though weighed down by invisible chains. Her feet slid off the bed and onto the floor, landing with a dull thud, her movements slow and deliberate. She sat at the edge of the bed for a moment, hunched over, before finally shuffling to her feet with a soft groan. She shuffled toward the door, each step a reluctant scrape, the sound faint in the stillness of the room. 
She slowly made her way to the living room. Her eyes immediately landed on Peter's sleeping form on the couch. Without giving herself another moment to think this through, she started walking towards him. 
She carefully climbed on the couch and settled in an awkward position on top of him/ against the back of the couch. It was very uncomfortable but she could manage. What she couldn't manage was Peter-less sleep. 
Peter was pulled out of his half-asleep state by the sudden movement on the couch. He blinked a few times, his vision slowly adjusting to the dim light. 
At first, he was confused. Was he dreaming? But then he felt Y/n's weight on top of him, her awkward positioning making him wince a little. 
He felt a surge of irritation bubble up once again. Seriously? She had the whole bed to herself, why was she cramping up the couch like this? He was about to protest, to tell her to go back to the bed where she would be more comfortable, but something held him back. Maybe it was the softness in her half-sleeping gaze, or the warm weight of her body on top of him. But instead of pushing her aside, he found himself pulling her closer, instinctively wanting to hold and comfort her. 
“Are you mad at me?” 
He let out a resigned sigh, his frustration giving way to a mixture of annoyance, care, and a hint of affection. Peter's eyes widened slightly at her unexpected question. He had been caught off guard by her words, and there was a moment of hesitation on his part. 
But her voice, tinged with vulnerability and hesitation, stirred something within him. Maybe it was the softness of her tone, or the genuine concern underneath the question, but the irritation that had been brewing in him suddenly lost some of its sharpness. 
He let out a long, quiet sigh before whispering back, his voice gentle but firm. 
"Yes, I am." 
They drifted into a quiet pause, the air between them tinged with hesitation. That was until she spoke again in an almost hushed tone. 
“Are you very mad at me?” 
Peter paused for a moment, taking a deep breath to steady his emotions. Her quiet plea made his chest tighten, his heart conflicted between the lingering irritation and the instinctive need to comfort her. 
"Yes,", he whispered back, his voice softening a bit, "I am very mad at you." 
She hummed softly, acknowledging his response before speaking up once more. 
"Mad enough not to give me a goodnight kiss?" 
Peter couldn't help but feel a small spark of amusement at Y/n's words. Despite everything, despite his frustration, she still knew just how to disarm him with her playfulness. 
After a moment's hesitation, he relented, his voice still soft but with a hint of a smile. 
"I suppose I can manage a goodnight kiss. But then you need to promise you'll go back to your bed." 
"I don't like sleeping without you" 
Peter's heart skipped a beat. He was taken aback by her raw honesty and the vulnerability in her voice. It softened his frustration a bit more, reminding him of the love they shared beneath their disagreements. He let out a sigh, a mixture of annoyance and affection in his voice.  
"Why? Why can't you just... behave and make things easier for both of us?" 
That was... *not* what she expected to hear. She suddenly felt very awake, like a bucket of freezing cold water was dumped over her. It made sense that Peter wouldn't ignore the problem at hand just to let her cuddle with him in peace. Did she like it? No, not really. But that's Pete for you. Always wanting to do things right and always in proper order. 
But she was really not in the mood for that. Feeling rejected didn't help either. It was a quiet devastation, not loud or dramatic, but a slow, persistent ache she couldn’t ignore. The heat crept up her neck and into her face, her body betraying the humiliation she tried to suppress. Guess she won't be getting that goodnight kiss after all. 
She got off him just as quickly and awkwardly as she had previously climbed on top of him (she may or may not tried to discreetly knee him in the process). 
“You came here because you needed space. I need to respect that. I'll leave you alone", she said quietly as she got up from the couch. 
"Goodnight, Peter", she mumbled without giving him the chance to respond before walking back to their room with her head hung low, her shoulders slumped. 
Peter watched her walk away, her dejected expression pulling at his heartstrings. He wanted to call out to her, to tell her not to go, but another part of him wanted space to think, to process everything. It was all just too much too quickly. 
With a heavy sigh, he leaned back on the couch. The night was still young, and there were so many thoughts swirling in his mind. He needed time to sort through his feelings, to figure out what to say to her when they talked. 
While Peter was busy staring at the ceiling and gathering his thoughts, Y/n was pacing back and forth in their shared room. She was feeling anxious.  
She knew her participation in any superhero related activity -let alone playing hero all on her own, in NYC of all places- wouldn't really appeal to Peter. 
She knew that, yet she did it anyway. She wanted to help, she knew she could help, so she did. Turns out all that training really paid off. She did good, if she said so herself. Criminals were caught, civilians were safe, the press was eating it up. It was a win in her books. 
Despite all that, she couldn't ignore how her actions affected Peter. He seemed pretty pissed off. And him being that mad at her wasn't a common occurrence, like at all. 
She knew she wouldn't be able to sleep. She was too emotional for that right now. Would they bounce back from this? Was he... done? Done with her? With them? She started giving through his closet, trying to find something to wear. She needed comfort, and if Peter wasn't about to provide that, his clothes would have to do. 
In true teenage girl fashion, she put on some sweatpants and one of Peter's hoodies. She put some sad, break up songs -Taylor Swift most likely- playing softly in the background, as she pulled her laptop and played a Star Wars movie, Peter's favorite. She was very well aware of how ridiculous she was being. But she really couldn't find it in herself to care. She was allowed to wallow in self-pity if she wanted to.  
As the movie started, her eyes began to tear up. She started thinking back to the day they first met, when they got together, when they moved into this house, essentially making herself cry more. What if this was their end? 
She didn't know what possessed her to act like this. Maybe it was the crippling fear that he'd break up with her. Maybe he was done with her. Maybe that's what tomorrow's conversation would bring. Because why on Earth would he want to sleep on the couch -without even giving her a goodnight kiss-, if he wasn't planning on breaking up with her? 
She cried even harder. 
Lost in his thoughts, Peter was startled when he heard a soft sniffling sound coming from the room he shared with Y/n (what a great day to have paper-thin walls!). Instantly, his irritation vanished, replaced by a sense of worry and concern. 
Was she crying? Was she upset? He couldn't bear to see her in distress, especially if he was the cause of it. And though part of him was still angry, the other just couldn't stand by and let her suffer. 
Silently, he got up from the couch and made his way to the bedroom door. 
Peter gently opened the door, trying not to make a sound. The sight that greeted him hit him hard. Y/n, dressed in his hoodie and sweatpants, sitting on their bed with her laptop in her lap, the screen lit up by the familiar glow of the original Star Wars trilogy playing. It was both sweet and heartbreaking. 
Tears were streaming down her face, and her small sobs filled the room. Peter could feel his heart cracking, torn between his lingering anger and his overwhelming love for her. He stood there for a moment, frozen, until the sight of her broke the last shred of his resolve. 
Peter moved forward slowly; his steps gentle yet firm. He approached her with care, as though she were made of fragile glass.  
“I could hear you from the living room” 
"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up... I'll keep it down” 
"No, no," he murmured, sitting beside her.  
"You don't need to apologize. I just...I just can't stand seeing you upset.", he reached out to brush the tears off her cheeks, his touch gentle and comforting. 
Tears spilled freely down her face as she leaned into his touch, the warmth of his hand against her cheek softening the jagged edges of her emotions. Her shoulders trembled with quiet sobs, each one a wordless apology for the harshness of the argument that still lingered in the air. And yet, she didn’t pull away—instead, she melted into the comfort, clinging to the embrace as if it was the only thing keeping her from breaking completely. The touch was steady, almost forgiving, and despite the ache between them, it felt like a fragile truce beginning to take shape. 
"I don't want us to break up", she blurted out suddenly. 
Peter blinked in surprise. He was taken aback by her sudden outburst. It hadn't even crossed his mind that they would break up.  
"What? No, of course not. Whatever gave you that idea?" 
He pulled her gently into his lap, his arms wrapping around her in a protective embrace. In return, she clung onto him and cried in his shirt. 
"I'm sorry. I really don't want us to break up. Ever. I hate it when you're mad at me. I don't want to lose you, Peter. You mean so much to me, I don't-" 
Peter held onto her tighter, his heart aching at her outpouring of distress and love. 
"Y/n, angel, listen to me," he said, his voice a calm and gentle assurance in the storm of emotions. "We're not breaking up. Not now, not ever. I love you. Mad, not mad, I love you. Do you understand what I'm saying? This is not a fleeting thing. This is us. Together. Forever." 
"I'm sorry for worrying you. I just wanted to do the right thing. I just wanted to help; I promise that's all I was trying to do. You're so busy and overworked and don't even complain because you're such a great person and I just wanted to help you and do something good for the world, too. I'm so sorry for making you worried. I didn't mean for things to come to this. I'm sorry, Peter. I'm so sorry-" 
She cried even harder in his arms, making Peter's heart shatter at her tear-filled confession. He held her closer, feeling every word as if it weighed a thousand pounds. 
"Shhhhh, shhh," he whispered, trying to soothe her. "You don't have to be sorry for wanting to help, Y/n. That's who you are. That's one of the reasons I fell in love with you. But there are other ways. Safer ways. We'll find them. Together. But I need you to promise, to actually promise me, that you won't do that again, that you won't go out risking your life again." 
She pulled away slightly, just enough to look him in the eyes, her own still filled with tears. 
"Peter..." 
She shook her head. Her tone was quiet and soft, almost a desperate plea.  
Peter's heart clenched tightly in his chest again as she pulled back to face him. Seeing her tear-stricken expression, his resolve nearly faltered. But he steeled himself, knowing this conversation needed to happen.  
"I need to hear you promise, Y/n," he repeated firmly, his tone unwavering, "promise you won't do this again. Promise me right now, or I promise you we're done." 
His words hung heavy in the air, laden with the weight of their love and their future together. Suddenly, she started feeling slightly lightheaded. Did he just-? No, he wouldn't...would he? But he just said- 
"W-what? You can't be serious”  
“I'm sorry, Y/n, but you have to choose” 
As the gravity of what he had just said sunk in, Peter felt a wave of nausea wash over him. Had he really just threatened to end their relationship if she refused to comply? He loved this girl with all his heart, yet here he was, holding their relationship hostage like some sort of bargaining chip. 
He swallowed hard, his eyes never leaving hers. He needed her to know he was serious. But he also needed her to understand this was for their own good. For her safety. For their future. 
"Y/n," he said softly, but firmly, "promise me." 
"But you just- you just said this isn't a fleeting thing. That we are in this together. You just said-", her voice broke and a fresh set of tears ran down her cheeks. 
"And I meant it. I meant every word. But..." Peter paused, his gaze still fixed on her tear-streaked face. "But I can't watch you put yourself in danger like this. I can't stand idly by, watching you risk your life, your future, your everything just to prove a point. I can't promise you my undying love and then stand idly by and watch you throw it away. This isn't some game, Y/n. It's real life. And in real life, people get hurt. People get killed." 
"No. You don't understand. I'm always very careful. I follow protocol. I do everything right-"  
The words came out uneven, trembling as if her emotions were fighting their way through every syllable. Each word seemed to catch in her throat, rasping and shaking as she struggled to speak through the tears. 
"This isn't fair. You can't do this. Peter, you can't-", her own sobs prevented her from speaking. The hesitation in her voice mirrored the vulnerability in her eyes, wavering as though afraid to break completely. 
“No, Y/n, it's not fair!" Peter retorted, his emotions boiling over. "It's not fair that I have to sit here, worrying about you every second of every day. It's not fair that you get to waltz into a dangerous situation, risking everything, and leave me here wondering if I'm ever going you to see you again. That is not fair. But it's the reality of who we are. And I can't watch you do this to yourself, to me, to us." 
After he spoke the room fell silent. All that could be heard was the heaviness of Peter's breathing and Y/n's soft sniffles. 
“Would you do it?” 
“Would I do what?” 
"Would you quit being Spider-Man if I asked you to?", her voice barely above a whisper. 
"Wh-what?" Peter blinked, completely taken aback by Y/n's sudden question. It felt like a punch to the gut, the very thought of giving up being Spider-Man. It was a part of him, just as much as the love he had for her, and he couldn't imagine living a life without it. 
"Why would you-? No, Y/n," he sputtered, the words stumbling out before he could stop himself. "It's not the same. What I do, it's different. I have powers. I have responsibilities-" 
"Okay, then.” 
There was a hint of disappointment and an even bigger hint of finality in the way she said it. That was all she said. Such small and insignificant words, but in that moment, it could potentially signify the end of an era, the end of their era. 
The silence that followed was stifling, the weight of Y/n's words hanging heavily in the air. Peter stared at her, his heart in his throat. This couldn't be it, could it? After everything they had been through, was this really how it would end? 
"No. Y/n, you can't-" Peter's voice broke, his voice hoarse with emotion. "You can't possibly want me to choose between you and my duty as Spider-Man. It's...it's not a fair choice. It's not fair to ask me to give up-" 
“I'm not. I was just... wondering if you'd do the very same thing you're asking me to do”, she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.  
Peter's heart clenched as he watched the tears stream down her cheeks. The realization of what he had done hit him like a ton of bricks. Had he really just demanded she choose between her desire to help and her love for him? Had he really just issued an ultimatum that threatened their entire relationship?  
His shoulders slumped, his resolve suddenly shattered. 
"I...I didn't mean..." He stammered, his voice cracking under the weight of his mistake. "Y/n, I'm so sorry. I never wanted to hurt you. I'm-" 
"At least you won't have to deal with my recklessness anymore", she chuckled bitterly, her tone only half joking. Her voice was quiet and tired as a result of all the crying. 
She really didn't want their relationship to end, especially not like this. Maybe if she took a moment to calm down (if only she could just close her eyes for a minute) she'd see they were both overreacting. They both had their point. Maybe they could even hug it out. That could work, right? It works for kindergarteners; it could work for them, too. But in her emotional and restless state all she could think about was one upping him, making him feel guilty for ever threatening to end things. 
Peter's heart cracked at Y/n's half-hearted attempt at humor. He knew he had a lot of apologizing to do, but right now all he wanted to do was make it right. He didn't want to lose her. He couldn't even begin to imagine a life without her.  
He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, his Spidey-Sense suddenly flared, causing him to freeze mid-breath. "Hang on," he interrupted, his brow furrowed in concentration, his senses now fully alert. He stood silently, focusing on the signals his Spidey-Sense was sending him. Something was off, something was wrong. 
His eyes darted around the room, his attention flicking to the window. Was that... movement? A shadow? A flicker of something out of the ordinary. Y/n's eyes followed Peter's line of sight on the window behind them, noticing something. Before she had the time to let Peter know, the object she noticed was already on its way to their room.  
Acting purely on instinct, in a fragment of a second, she had pushed Peter off the bed, and fell on top of him, concealing him from whatever was going to burst through the window.  
Peter's Spider-Sense blared again, a split second later than it would have been if he hadn't been so wrapped up in his own emotions. 
The force of the blast sent a wave of debris and smoke swirling through the apartment. Glass shattered around them, raining down like sharp, shiny confetti. 
The rush of adrenaline barely let her register the feeling of glass breaking her skin. Peter's eyes widened as he realized what was happening. Y/n had flung herself on top of him, shielding him from the impending explosion. He tried to push her off him, his strength kicking in, knowing he could withstand the blast. 
But it was too late. The shockwave of the blast hit them, sending them crashing against a nearby wall. Peter instinctively wrapped his arms around Y/n, trying to protect her as much as he could. The explosion was deafening, the pain momentarily blinding.  
Once the dust began to settle, Peter slowly let go of Y/n, trying to catch his bearings. Peter's eyes darted around the destroyed room, trying to assess the damage. The devastation was staggering — shattered windows, smoke filling the room, debris everywhere. But his focus was on Y/n; the only thing that mattered right now. 
He gently grasped her shoulders, pulling her towards him, trying to assess her injuries. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice shaky with worry. "Please, please tell me you're okay." 
She barely noticed the sharp ache on her side or the warmth of blood trickling down her temple as she looked over the charred remains of what had once been their home. Her eyes stayed fixed on the crumbled remains of their house, where years of memories now lay in twisted, blackened ruins. The faint ache in her ribs with each breath was nothing compared to the hollow thud in her chest as she stared at the space that had once been their home.  
Her breathing was shallow, ragged—not from exertion, but from the weight of what she’d lost. Every step sent a jolt of agony through her body, but she ignored it, her focus locked on the blackened timbers and ashes that used to hold their memories, their life. What was a little pain compared to this? 
Peter's grip on her shoulders tightened slightly, his fingers digging into her flesh. "Y/n, look at me," he demanded, his voice firm. "Look at me and tell me you're okay." 
He needed to know she was alright. He couldn't handle the alternative. The thought of losing her was more terrifying than any explosion or villain. 
"Pete, our home. It's... it's gone” 
Her words stumbled out, disjointed and hollow, as if her mind was still scrambling to catch up. ““The picture wall, the stupid chemistry pun posters... they're all... gone.” Her mouth hung slightly open, her voice barely above a whisper, like she couldn’t trust the weight of her own thoughts. Every sentence felt like a question, her tone wavering between incredulity and desperate denial, as if speaking it aloud might somehow undo the reality before them.  
Peter's heart ached at her words. The thought of everything they had built together being destroyed was almost too much to bear. But right now, the only thing that mattered was Y/n. 
He took a deep breath, pushing aside his own emotions.  
"It's just stuff, Y/n. Things. We can get new stuff. None of it matters as long as you're okay." 
“But it won't be *our* stuff” 
Peter's heart broke at her words. She was right. Nothing could replace the sentimental value of their shared belongings — their collective memories and shared experiences. But he had to remain strong for her. He couldn't afford to break down when she needed him. 
"We'll make new memories. Better memories. I promise," he said softly, his hands still on her shoulders. "We'll find a new place, and we'll make it ours. It'll be even better than before. You have to trust me." 
"Trust you? You just broke up with me!”, her tone was almost accusing as tears began running down her face. 
Peter's heart felt like it was tearing in two as the words left Y/n's lips. He hadn't meant it, he *never* would have meant it. He only wanted to protect her, to keep her safe. But he realized his own fear and anxiety had caused him to make a mistake, a terrible mistake. 
"Y/n, baby, please," he pleaded. "It wasn't real. I was scared. I was worried about you going out and putting yourself in danger. I... I panicked. Please, you have to know... I love you." 
"You have a funny way of showing people you love them", she muttered sarcastically under her breath. “Anyway, is that supposed to make me feel better? You gave me an ultimatum, we kinda broke up and an explosive device literally demolishes our home". Angry tears were running down her face. 
"What is going on today? And you were mad because what? Because I risked my life? NEWS FLASH, PETER. THAT'S WHAT YOU DO ALL THE GODDAMN TIME. But I TRUST you and BELIEVE in your need to contribute to the greater good"  
"And I'd never- ah, fuck", she hissed and pressed down on her side 
Peter's eyes widened. Immediately, all other thoughts faded into the background. He quickly moved to her side, lifting up her shirt to assess the damage. His eyes fell on a nasty cut on her side, blood slowly seeping out.  
"You're bleeding," Peter said, his voice trembling with panic. "Why the hell didn't you say something earlier?" 
"Because I was in need of a red shirt- obviously I didn't know!"  
Her tone sounded sarcastic and frustrated; a hint of fear mixed in there as well. 
Peter huffed, feeling an emotional whirlwind. Mainly relief and the tiniest bit of irritation. Of course, she couldn't resist a snarky comment even in a crisis. 
"Right, because bleeding is the current trend," he quipped, trying to match her tone. "Red's not really your color, by the way. You're more of an orange gal." 
He couldn't help but feel a hint of affection towards her, even as he berated her. 
“Parker, I swear to God, if you don't zip it right now, I'll make you regret ever asking me out on that first date” 
Peter paused for a moment, caught off guard by her comment as it reminded him how he just threatened his lovely girlfriend -who he's madly in love with and would literally die for- he'd break up with her if she didn't stop doing something she loves. Her words sent a jolt of guilt through him; he could hear the hurt in her voice, and he knew he was the cause of it. 
He shook his head, pushing the weight of his mistake to the side for now. Y/n was bleeding, and that was his first priority. He would deal with the fallout of his ultimatum later.  
"Hang on," he said softly, gently lifting her up. "We need to stop the bleeding. Then we'll talk." 
He gently wrapped his arm around her waist, supporting her weight as they made their way to what was left of the kitchen. The sink miraculously survived the explosion, and he helped her lean against it. Grabbing a clean cloth, he ran it under the faucet, wetting it.  
"This might hurt," he warned, gently pressing the cloth to her wound. 
“I'm not talking to you”, she said almost right away. 
Peter paused at Melina's response. Her voice was laced with frustration, and he couldn't blame her. He had screwed up, big time. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. She was being stubborn, and he knew she had every right to be. 
"Look, I get it. You don't want to hear from me right now. I messed up, and I know that," he said softly, his gaze fixed on her. "But you're bleeding. I have to help you. Please, let me help you. Then you can go back to giving me the silent treatment if you want, okay? Plus, you don't have to talk. I'll do all the talking. Just let me patch you up, okay?" 
His voice was gentle, the frustration and anger from earlier having faded into the background. He knew that making things right with Y/n was going to take more than just words. It was going to take action. 
"I don't want to hear you talk either", she mumbled childishly. 
Peter raised an eyebrow at her petulant response. He had no doubt she wasn't in the mood to engage in conversation right now, but he refused to let her bleed out on her own floor because she was mad at him. He had to patch her up.  
He exhaled softly, gathering a bundle of supplies from a nearby first-aid kit. 
"You know, you're adorable when you're angry," he commented, unable to help himself. He started carefully cleaning the wound, his hands moving with precision and care. 
"And you're still talking" 
He couldn't help but smile at her stubbornness. He had truly fallen for a strong, independent woman. "Sorry, I just can't resist when my girlfriend's bleeding and fuming. It's a dangerous combination." 
He carefully began stitching up her wound, his hands steady and sure. "Just remember, a little bit of anger and banter make for the best love stories. We might be the next big blockbuster, with how dramatic we are." 
“Ex girlfriend", she corrected with an eye roll at the irony of it all. 
"And no love story for us. You can pursue your romance with the Becky from down the street now", she said grumpily, the thought alone tugging at her heartstrings 
Peter let out a sigh of exasperation at Y/n's correction. He knew he had made a mistake, and it hurt to see her refer to herself as his ex-girlfriend, but for now, her cut had his full attention. He couldn't get sidetracked. 
"You're right, I'm sorry. But you know, we could be the next enemies to lovers, if you play your cards right. A little banter, a little fighting, and then some dramatic make-up scene. The audience will love it." 
He finished stitching up her wound, his touch gentle despite his words. 
She wanted to stay mad at him, she really did. But it was hard to when he was making silly little comments like these. A small smile made its way to her face but she quickly bit down on her lip to stop herself before he saw and got cocky about it. 
Peter's keen Spidey senses picked up on the shift in her demeanor. He caught the subtle smile she tried to hide, and it warmed his heart. 
"Oh, is that a smile I see?" He said in a teasing tone. "I knew my charm would get to you eventually. Just imagine, if you're already smiling after breaking up, what could happen if we make up? The world might just explode from our awesomeness." 
"No one's smiling, you must've hit your head" 
Peter chuckled at her quick defense of her smile. He finished applying an antiseptic to the wound and gently covered it with a clean bandage.  
"Right, of course, I'm just seeing things," he replied with a playful wink. "But hey, if I did hit my head, maybe I'm having a vivid dream where you and I are the star-crossed lovers in the epic love story that is our lives. And you know what that means, right?" 
He leaned in close, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Wake me up with a kiss, Melina." 
"That was the corniest thing I've ever heard. Plus, I have this rule of not kissing ex boyfriends, sorry" 
"You're really gonna play hard to get?", Peter countered, a grin spreading across his face. "Well, I guess I'll just have to win you back then. I've defeated villains and battled super-powered monsters. Winning your heart back can't be much harder, right?" 
He stood up, helping her up as he did so. He couldn't resist pulling her towards him, his hands lightly settling on her hips. "And just so you know, I'm a great kisser." 
"Really? You'd think I would know, considering we spent the last four years of our lives together" 
"Touché. But you know what they say, practice makes perfect. Maybe I should give you a refresher. After all, I can't have you going around thinking I'm a bad kisser, can I?" 
He gently brushed a lock of hair away from her face, his gaze filled with affection. 
"So what do you say? For old time's sake?" 
"Old time being... yesterday?" 
Peter shrugged with a sheepish grin. "Well, technically yes, but you know what I meant. Besides, yesterday was a lifetime ago. We've had an explosion, a break-up, and a reunion. That's a lot more than most couples experience in a lifetime." 
He paused for a moment, a genuine warmth seeping into his voice. 
"In all seriousness, Y/n, I messed up. I've regretted it this entire time. I'm so sorry. Please give me another chance to prove it. To prove that we're... perfect together." 
“ ‘This entire time’ being...what? Thirty minutes?"*she said with a snort of amusement. 
Peter chuckled, his smile widening. "Alright, alright, I get it. We can't all be as patient as you with our ex-boyfriends. But seriously, Y/n, I mean it. I regret what I said. I was scared, and I made a mistake." 
He paused for a moment, his gaze growing serious. "I love you. I want you. And I'm willing to do whatever it takes to win back your trust and heart." 
He took her hand, his fingers intertwining with hers. "Can we... just start over? Please?" 
She pulled her hand away from his and just stood there, watching him for a moment. After a bit she extended her arm towards him and introduced herself. 
"Y/n Stark", she said with the tiniest of smiles evident on her lips. 
“Who's being corny now?”, he rolled his eyes in a playful manner before wrapping his hand around hers, savoring the feel of her skin against his. 
"Y/n Stark," Peter echoed, his voice soft with affection "It's a pleasure to meet you, Y/n Stark. I'm Peter Parker. But you can call me anytime." 
With that, he gently pulled her closer, his free hand reaching up to caress her cheek. He leaned in, his lips gently brushing against hers, sealing their newfound beginning with a tender, heartfelt kiss. She laughed softly against his lips, the pickup line catching her off guard. Peter couldn't ignore the fluttering in his chest as her laughter met his lips. The sound was like music to his ears, and he deepened the kiss, his arms wrapping around her waist. 
Pulling away slightly, he whispered in her ear, "Did that meet your witty standards, Miss Stark?" 
"I'll let it slide", she said with a serious expression, nodding slightly before a smile made its way on her face again. 
Peter grinned, his eyes sparkling with adoration. "Only let it slide? I'll have to step up my game, then. How about this?" 
He leaned in again, his voice a low murmur against her lips. "I swear I'll be your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man if you let me swing by your place every night." 
She snorted in amusement “That was so bad” 
“Was it now?” With that, he captured her lips in a kiss, expressing the depth of his feelings for her with each lingering moment. 
Their lips met softly, tenderly, as if every touch was a gentle reminder of how much they meant to each other. It was unhurried, each moment lingering with the quiet depth of love that words could never capture. There was no urgency, only a profound warmth, a silent apology woven into the way their hands cupped each other’s faces. The kiss held forgiveness, not as a plea, but as a gift, an unspoken promise that they were ready to move forward together. It wasn’t just an expression of love—it was a vow, a renewal of everything they’d shared and everything they still hoped to build. 
After a bit, they pulled away to catch their breath.  
“So, we're together again?”, she asked playfully. 
He looked at her, his eyes sparkling with amusement as before he softly kissed her forehead "Please, we were never not together” 
With that, they fell in silence. 
The silence wrapped around them like a soft blanket, warm and steady, filling the spaces where words weren’t needed. It wasn’t heavy or awkward but gentle, a quiet acknowledgment of shared understanding. The only sounds were the subtle rhythm of their breathing and the faint rustle of the world outside, creating a calm that felt almost sacred. In that stillness, there was no need to explain, no need to fill the air with chatter—it was enough just to be there, side by side, letting the silence speak what their hearts already knew. 
“Are we going to ignore the fact that we're homeless?” 
A small chuckle left Peter's lips as he pulled her closer. 
"You always have to ruin the mood”, he said jokingly, “We'll figure it out, baby. Just you and me. And your dad. We should probably call him and beg him to let us crash because we're kind of screwed otherwise”  
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solaiced · 2 months ago
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CASE 14: NANAMI KENTO LIKES TO PAINT!?
!content!: cumplay, married life, nanami does NOT know how to bake, more sentimental than i anticipated, and lots of fluff.
wc: 1,4k
。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆
Whenever Nanami had a bad day, you strove to make him happy.
Come home late from overtime?
Dinner's on the table, his favorite, and a hot bath awaits him.
His coworkers were annoying?
Massage and kisses.
Now, you weren't a housewife by all means, your job was simply more lenient on hours.
So, of course, it was a surprise when you came home late for the first time in your marriage.
You throw your shoes off, landing in the abyss that you called a closet, eyes droopy from fatigue. You're so tired, that you forgot about your husband, who must’ve come home from work before you.
You drop your heavy bag and huff.
“Are you tired, my love?” You hear Kento’s voice from an unknown place in the house.
“Sorry for being late, Ken.” You call out, walking to where you think you heard him, the kitchen.
There he was, the most perfect, flawless man that you managed to wife up. Your husband. Dressed in your white apron, now stained with mysterious brown marks. He turns to you, spreading his arms invitingly.
“Welcome home.” He graces you with his perfect smile, dimples on each corner of his lips. Gift from God, he truly is.
You crash into his arms, wrapping your arms around his neck while his wrap around your waist, bringing you flat against him.
“Thank you, darling.” You smile, kissing his lips. Kento tilts his head, thinking the peck would be longer, but ends up stumbling, mouth open.
“My kiss?” He asks, like a puppy who did a trick and didn’t get a treat for it.
“I gave you a kiss?” You joke, hands framing his cheeks. “Kidding, come here.”
You pucker your lips and he crashes his on them, pulling you closer, no space between you both.
He pulls away momentarily before kissing you again, hand behind your head to make you sure don’t pull away.
At some point, you try to, gasping for air. Kento backs off, looking at you with the most devastatingly loving eyes, you’d die.
“How’s that for a kiss?” You ask, hands on his chest.
“Perfect.” He remembers something, turning around, “I need to show you something. Since you’re the one who came home late this time, I made you something instead.”
He turns back to you, mittens on and a cake pan in hand. It was… dark. Kento sure was a cook, but when it came to pastries or baking… he wasn’t the best.
You gasp, surprised by his action.
“Kento… you did have to…” No, seriously, he shouldn’t bake. He sucks. He puts the pan down, taking off his mittens and putting a fork in it, picking up a big piece of the cake(?) and bringing it to your mouth. You reluctantly obey, taking the fork in.
You try to not wince, it’s obvious he mixed something wrong. There’s a clump of flour at the back of your throat.
After chewing, you cough, hiding your face.
“Are you okay?” Kento immediately puts the fork down and places his hand on your upper back worriedly.
“I-I’m fine.” You stutter, wiping your mouth. You straighten, and turn to him, smiling.
“Was it that bad? I’m sorry.” He cups your face and kisses you, peppering kisses on your face.
“I’m fine, Kento.” You kiss him back, humming contentedly. He taps your thigh, signaling you to jump, once you do, he wraps your thighs around his waist and supports your weight with his hands.
“Where are we going, my love?” You giggle, arms around his neck.
The blond man kisses your arm and starts walking, “Our bedroom. I’ll make up for almost poisoning you.” How did you get so lucky?
“Hm? And how do you plan on doing that?” You instigate, curious.
“Painting you.”
——————
Apparently, ‘painting you’ wasn’t what you thought. Apparently, ‘painting you’ didn’t mean that Kento would immortalize your beauty on a canvas. No, you were the canvas. And the paint was his cum.
Your husband suppresses a whine as he pulls out and cums for the nth time. His head feels so light. You weren’t faring any better, hips twitching and legs shaking. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think you were having a seizure.
“My love…” Kento whispers, the smallest tears slipping out the slits his eyes became. You turn your head slowly, trying to gain more lucidity.
“Yes, Ken?” You respond breathlessly, chest heaving.
He slips a hand down your stomach, feeling your mixed fluids starting to dry. He uses the tip of his finger to write something, and you jerk, shivering from his light touches here and there.
“K-Ken!” You whine when his finger becomes a hand, trailing down to your clit and slapping it.
“It’s unfair… Must you be so pretty?” Kento frowns, other hand planted beside your head to balance his body over you.
“W-what-“ You jerk when he repeatedly slaps your clit punishingly.
He stops suddenly and moves his hand to your breasts, writing his name across your chest, as if he was claiming you.
“You’re mine, okay?” Kento squeezes your tit, planting a kiss on your nipple. You nod, hand searching for his cock.
“Inside, again,” you beg. “I want you inside, please Kento, you’re gonna kill me.” A sob rips out of you, you didn’t even realize you were crying, poor thing.
Your husband takes his hands off of you, wrapping it around his length instead and putting the near to your fluttering entrance. He slipped in with ease, from how wet you were.
The noises you and Kento let out were harmonious, completing each other. Once he was completely sheathed inside, he groans, head tipped back so you could see his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he swallows.
“Are you okay?” Sweetest man, always asking how you were, even though he was doing much worse, sweat dripping down his powerful biceps, forehead and chest. But god, he was so attractive to you in this exact moment.
You place a shaky hand on his shoulder, digging your nails in unconsciouslyy. “I’m fine, move, Ken.”
Kento’s hand lifts your thigh, the ring on his hand cold against your hot skin.
“Be good and wrap your legs around me, my love.” You obey, shivering from the pleasure, the way your husband filled you up so deliciously.
“Good girl,” he huffs, pulling out until only the tip remained and plunging the rest inside after a second. Your jaw drops, releasing a mess of incoherent moans.
Kento mutters your name in a broken whisper, hiding his red face in your neck. His hand gropes your breast, covered in his semen like he was trying to mark you up.
“Harder, Kento.” You beg, swallowing the thick wad of saliva that had built up inside of your mouth. He obliges, tip smashing against your g-spot.
Kento was a very vocal man, not bothering to muffle his moans as his cock twitched inside of you. He rubbed your walls with the ridges and veins of his length, producing friction you couldn’t find in any toy.
Meanwhile, your husband kept whispering your name and little praises, rubbing your clit with his thumb and coating your skin in his saliva and cum with his other hand and his tongue.
“Pretty girl…” Kento whispers, kissing up your jawline to your lips. “Do you mind if I paint you from the inside, this time?”
However, you were too engrossed in his frantic thrusts and light touches, bringing him closer by the shoulders.
“You-fuuhh- You better.” He chuckles at your late response and rolls his hips into your mellow cunt, wrapped comfortably around his aching cock.
“Okay, okay, cum with me, sweetheart, please,” Kento begs, unable to contain his sounds, even if he wanted to.
The slick you were releasing made it all too slippery, so, when you both came, Kento’s thick cock slips out and paints your stomach and breasts, instead of your pussy.
You recover slowly, panting and blinking away the stars in your eyes. Your husband scowls on top of you, wiping, or rather, smearing, his fresh cum all over your body.
“What’s wrong, Ken?” You ask, wondering if you were unsatisfactory.
“Nothing, just… We’ll have to do it again. I slipped out.” He grumbles, pecking your lips and actually wiping away your drool and tears.
“Kentooooo…” You whine, but he knew you wanted to.
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ecmlol · 10 months ago
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So I had a long conversation with someone about wrecker and why he isn't seen as a father figure as much as hunter is. And I don't know why it took me so long to notice it . I have always believed that wrecker is the closest thing omega has to a father figure. But hunter is giving all the credit in the fandom. It's the same as when a father does the bare minimum and people shower them with All the praise and mother's with nothing. Wrecker acts more maternal in a traditional way than any other batcher does. You might think I'm off my rocker with this but hear me out. Think about the traditional mother figure ? They are more physical ,normally emotionally, sentimental, and detailed oriented. Wrecker is the most hands on bad batcher than anyone else. He knew she needed space so he found a way to provide it for her with a privacy curtain and everything. Next he provided her with his doll. He didn't have to but he knew she needed a toy. Through his own love for food they started a tradition and they bonded over mantel mix . It's like a little special thing only they did together .it made her feel special. I put money wreck was the one that saved all of crosshairs stuff for sentimental value . I'm sure they still have all of techs things too. It's like the baby books a lot of moms want to do . I'm sure there are sentimental dads to but when most people think they think in hetero normative terms it goes to mothers. You can't forget that he was teaching her about bombs and tech was teaching her about ships and flying . What has hunter really done beside being the stand offish father that worries about your physical safety. Wrecker was even the first to greet her after omega return.if it wasn't for omega I think wrecker is the glue to the bad batch.
Side bar when wrecker hugged both crosshair and hunter at the same time if was giving mama bear vibes just saying..
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ktjislove1119 · 6 months ago
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what being pharmony's seventh (favorite) member would be like⁷ㅤ
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-> p1harmony x seventh member! male reader -> can be read as platonic or romantic, i tried keeping it ambiguous and balanced in this aspect
warning : some members refer to you with honorifics (hyung) so if that makes you uncomfortable then ... scadattle idk + i made you in between the hyung line and maknae line (so younger than keeho, theo, and jiung, but older than intak, soul, and jongseob) + not proof read !! i will edit in the morning, im knocking out rnnnn
rating : mushy fluff, some get sentimental but for the most part it's really just
a/n: ive been cooking this one for a long time guys !! also the reader is said to speak english well, but i don't think...that's a huge concern bc...but wanted to make note of that before you read on lol (even though its only mentioned a handful of times) + i want to lowkey make this a series !!! not a continous storyline-esque series, but installments of the same reader with piwon, if that makes sense...
wc : 14k+...idk i guess that each members individual headcanons are ??? 2-3k+ long...anyway....
yoon keeho — the relationship you’d have with keeho would be a mix of how he treats soul and intak. you guys had trained together for a very long, long time, but he still is always looking out for you and has you in the forefront of his mind. he worries about you a lot because you have been putting a lot of pressure on yourself since pre-debut and he’s really perceptive when it comes to you. he doesn’t baby you, though, because you guys aren’t that different in age, but he does check in with you in his own special ways.
the season of work that was preparing for overseas schedules and tours was always the most gruelling. it was much more demanding than simply promoting domestically since it involved remembering new things like choreography, positioning, and cues, which almost always changed slightly with each stop.
it was late now and there were barely any people left in the building to practice, but you were still working hard in trying to keep up with all the changes. just as you were about to start the music to one of the tracks, the door behind you had opened up and keeho was standing there with a not surprised look on his face.
“i knew you’d be here,” he said simply, “why aren’t you back to the dorm already?”
“i still need to practice some more, the tour starts soon,” is the simple explanation and keeho hums in understanding, closing the door behind him and pulling out a chair that was nearby. “what are you doing here?”
“keeping you company,” he says quickly, moving over to plug his phone into the wall and then watching you with his arms crossed over his chest, “after you’re done, we can walk back together too,”
“how did you know i was in this room?”
“[name], you’re the only one still here it was very easy to find you,” he chuckles, spreading his legs and rubbing his eyes as he got more comfortable in his chair. “why do you always have to overdo it when tour is about to start?”
“i just want to make sure i have it down,” you sigh, already knowing the direction this conversation was going.
“okay, then practice for only a couple more minutes and then let’s go home,” he proposes, pointing to the clock in the corner, “it’s way too late and if you really want to make your performance the best, getting good rest is the most important.”
“fine, fine,” you wave him off, going back into positioning and getting ready for the music to start.
you run through the choreography a couple more times without keeho inserting himself, simply watching with tired eyes as you worked. the practicing came to an end about half an hour later and he looked thankful you were finally calling it wraps.
as he waited before, he was scrolling through his phone aimlessly, occasionally filming you without you being aware, and when you stood in front of him to leave, he excitedly locked his phone and cheered.
an arm came around your sweaty neck and shoulders, as well as his hand rubbing your stomach, “our [name] always working so hard,” he compliments, making you fight against his hold — out of uncomfortableness of how the sensation of his skin against your sweaty one felt. but his grip was tight and he even smooshed your cheeks together in his excitement.
“let’s eat some good food at the dorm, for you to recharge,” he comments, turning off the lights on your way out and shutting the door behind you two.
“what good food? the leftovers from last week?”
“if that’s what we have, then that’s what we have,” he sighs, trying to remember what was in the fridge.
“i can also just make a protein drink for dinner, we can share it,”
he looks at you disgusted before saying, “we are not having a protein shake for dinner — minus the fact that’s just not healthy, they’re disgusting so, no. we will eat the leftovers,”
you laugh at his definitive tone and facial expressions, accepting his proposal and walking out of the building side by side.
— keeho is really sweet and understanding with you, but does tend to put his foot down and become more stern when it regards you and your health habits. he is always the first one to remind you when to take breaks and go easy on yourself, but won’t force you to do anything that he says. if he suggests you take a break, but you don’t want to, he’ll wait on the sidelines for you to tire out and then guide you back to the dorm. his method of doing this actually proves to be really effective as it leads you to take more breaks because no one is actively forcing them on you which makes them more appealing (if that makes sense).
— he’s also really touchy with you, as he is with all the members. the thing with you is that you really welcome it. you’ve understood since you were trainees that one of keeho’s biggest habits is that he loves being in physical contact and close with those he cares about most. and he cares about you very deeply. back when you were still trainees, he’d often find himself sharing your bed with you since he didn’t want to be alone and wanted someone to be near. even now after debut, it’s still the same sentiment of: wanting to always have someone in his corner that he can express outward affection with as a means of self-comfort.
“[name], come here,” keeho calls, waving his hand to you in a hither motion with his phone propped up in his other. the entire group was waiting in the green room for their next direction of the music show. but seeing as it was just a waiting time, everyone was doing their own thing. keeho was watching a video on youtube, but wanted someone near as he did so, which is why he called you.
approaching with your own phone in hand, you didn’t even look up as you sat beside him and let his arm fall on your shoulders.
“what are you watching?”
“i forgot how to get the hidden move, so i have to watch a youtube tutorial,” you complain, an exasperated sigh leaving your lips.
“wah, gamer boy,” he says in english, making you weakly slap his stomach. he doesn’t even flinch, merely laughing as he continues to watch whatever was on his own screen. the hand on your shoulder stays in position, occasionally squeezing you for no apparent reason.
simple touches and actions like this summarize the way keeho shows affection with you. sometimes it’s grand actions like a kiss on the cheek (something especially grand when he does it in public settings) or big, tight hugs in private, but either way: keeho is going to be showing affection to you one way or another, public or private.
the setting doesn’t really deter him because he feels like, if he wants to show affection with you the place doesn’t really matter. even if you’re standing at a fanmeeting and he’s feeling more expressive at that time, he will go over to you and just absolutely smother you. the fans can coo and “aw” all they want, some will probably think it’s purposeful fanservice, but to keeho it’s just him wanting to show you affection.
keeho leans into your ear from his position on your back (he was hugging you from the back) and whispers, “do you want to go to the cafe afterwards?” making you smile and nod, turning to look at him as you answer.
considering how close he was to you, this made your face inches apart and something that was worthy of fans screaming over. but it didn’t faze you two as you casually carried on, “the one near the dorm? will you buy me the cheese danish?”
keeho chuckles, squeezing your cheeks together and bumping his forehead with yours. he stands upright and slightly backs away from you, “yeah, let’s go,” since that phrase wasn’t whispered, the fans were going crazy over the part of the conversation they could hear and their curiousity was high.
“where? go where?”
“keeho, where are you taking [name]?”
“we’re running away together,” keeho jokes, sticking his tongue out as he pretends to drag you away.
”where are you going?”
“nowhere!” you say in a sing song voice, obviously teasing the crowd.
the playful banter riles them up, making everyone hyperfocus on you two until one of the other members does something that steals all their attention.
lucky fans that had seen you two at the cafe had went onto social media and teased: “this is where keeho meant when he said they were running away together, so adorable” with a picture of you two standing in line, standing close to one another. there was then a selca the fan had taken with the two of you attached beside it, making other p1ece envious of how lucky the girl was.
“were they are seriously that close the whole time? they’re so clingy with each other T.T” to which the original poster responded, “they really were — their chemistry is real, guys. the whole reason i recognized them was because i saw them standing in line and thought, wow, keeho also holds onto [name] as tight as this man does. keeho really doesn’t want him going anywhere, it’s cute!”
the affection-ridden and patient relationship that keeho and you share is one of the favorite dynamics for p1ece to see since it’s a refreshing one. seeing the two of you be most comfortable with each other, no matter where you are, makes them feel happy to witness such a pure form of trust and adoration.
choi taeyang — theo is a guy that’s super big on teasing, he makes a lot of jokes based off of teasing and they usually end up with everyone in the room laughing. what’s something interesting that has been noticed by some staff as well as p1ece is that, taeyang tries especially hard in making people laugh and uplifting the mood when you are there or nearby. there have been many instances of people editing theo’s eyes watching you the moment he makes a joke, an expecting look on his face that gets washed with relief and achievement when he sees that you do end up laughing. taeyang finds that his relationship with you is really, really fun and full of laughter, which he intends to keep that way for as long as possible.
you guys were filming for another installment of your variety show; saessak harmony and you and theo were placed to be on the same team for the “guess the kpop song” challenge. towels were wrapped around your heads as you continued on playing and eating, at the same time.
theo, keeho, soul, and you were all placed on the same team against jiung, intak, and jongseob. thankfully, keeho was very good at the game and was scoring the majority of your points, allowing the rest of the team to be more relaxed. you were sitting in between soul and theo, watching with a grin as keeho scored another point for your team.
“yah, [name], look,” theo whispers, showing you the egg that was in his hand. you watch in interest, then burst out laughing at his sudden action. it caught the attention of the rest of the group, but you were too busy falling into theo’s neck to even properly notice. he put his arm around you as you laughed together, almost completely collapsing backwards in your laughing fit.
“what? what? what?” jiung asked, wanting to know what was so hilarious, as well as everyone else in the group too.
theo was too busy holding onto your body to stop it from hitting the ground to properly answer while you were too occupied with laughing.
”these two are always interrupting filming,” intak accused, “please spray them with water as punishment,” he cheekily requested, everyone bursting out in laughter as they saw that the staff had actually sprayed the two of you with the water gun.
now you and theo were a mess on the floor, holding onto each other as you were relentlessly attacked with water from the staff.
“what even was so funny?” keeho asked once everyone had settled down more, making you wave off his question and insist on moving on to continue on the challenge.
— taeyang really values spending free time with you, he likes to just be in your presence. even if you guys aren’t doing anything particularly interesting, just being with you is enough for him. he doesn’t really enjoy going out the most, but he won’t deny going out with you — unless he really isn’t up for it. but most of the time, for convenience sake, you two are staying indoors. you two will rest in the same bed together, but not speak a work to one another. and it’s comfortable that way, which he can appreciate. he doesn’t always need high energy level atmospheres surrounding him and you really do help calm him down, just by being near so he likes monopolizing on that.
— one of the things that theo has picked up nowadays is learning the guitar. and he has proper lessons with his teacher very often, but the person he wants to show off his newly acquired skills to the most is you. when it comes to things that taeyang is proud of, he likes to show them off to you first. because he knows it’s always a judgement free zone (not that it wouldn’t be with the other members, it’s just having you be the only one watching and complimenting him is what he desires most). he loves hearing all the impressed sounds you make and curious questions you ask him, even if he himself is a pretty beginner level player. he’ll pretend as if he has all the answers to impress you further.
“play me your favorite song on the guitar,” you request, sinking into the mini couch that was in the studio.
“i don’t know how to yet,” he truthfully admits, plugging the guitar into the amp and rolling the chair closer to you, “i’ll play you a snippet of what i’m learning now though, for our solo performance. it sounds pretty,” he comments, looking at you and smiling at the way your eyes lit up at the mention of his solo song.
the strings are strummed lightly and taeyang is depending on no one but himself to not mess up and embarrass himself in front of you. there are a couple of times he mistakes a string for another and strikes it by accident, but each time that happens you don’t seem to notice or you ignore it on purpose. he smiles at your amazed expression, finishing the song with a sigh and awaiting your feedback.
“that was amazing, taeyang,” you compliment, smiling so brightly and genuinely at him that he feels a blush crawl onto his face.
“it wasn’t much, but i’ve been working hard on it to make it sound perfect,” he admits, making you even more eager in complimenting him.
“it was so good, you’ll be in perfect shape by the time the tour starts,” you add in, making him put his hood up as a weak attempt in hiding his face from you. you tease him, putting your hand beneath the hood and affectionately rub the top of his hair. “a true rockstar, huh?”
he weakly swats your hand away, grabbing your wrist after you try evading him and putting it down to rest on his leg.
”i can teach you? it’s really simple, you’ll get the hang of it really fast,” he offers, keeping your wrist enclosed in his hand as he rubs the skin gently, “c’mon, let me teach you,”
making the easy decision of accepting, you welcome the guitar into your lap and theo into the seat next to you. for longer than you two realized, you were in the studio by yourselves learning the chords to the song “until i found you.” occasionally, he would tease you for your below beginner level guitar skills, but for the most part he wsas genuinely teaching you and hoping you’d learnt his song.
“maybe we can do a duet on stage,” you joke, but theo doesn’t actually seem to mind it. he brushes your hair out of your face and behind your ear, a kind smile on his lips as he nods in agreement.
— theo is really gentle and caring with you, in the physical sense. he doesn’t show as much affection as keeho (that’d be hard), but he does show that he cares and is always looking out for you in other ways. there have been compilations made online of all the subtle things theo does to look out for you and p1ece gush over it constantly. neither of you know of these videos existence, but if theo ever did become aware of it, he’d definitely blush in embarrassment of being found out + seeing his actions be made aware to everyone.
“did you see the way theo covers the corner of the table? something tells me that if it were anyone else he would’ve loved to see the member lightly hit their head lollol”
→ “he always has had a soft spot for [name]”
“here theo goes again protecting his [name]! so cute”
→ “the arm that never leaves [name]’s waist! an infamous and familiar sight”
“anyone else notice how theo always is closest to [name] when they go anywhere public? like the airport or in overseas schedules, he’s always right next to [name] T.T so cute”
— taeyang wants to make you laugh, wants your hardest laughs to be with him and wants to always make you feel the most safe and secure. maybe it’s because you were the first one to truly welcome him to the company when he first became a trainee or for another reason. but in the end, he’s always having his eye on you. he’s very aware and keen when it comes to you, coming first to your defense in any situation as well as being the person to make you laugh the most too. he’s a real sweetheart and gentleman when it comes to you and it’s painfully obvious.
choi jiung — he is someone who is very explicitly proud of you and shows it in all sorts of ways. he’s always grinning so wide whenever you are speaking at public events because he’s that proud, whenever you have a highlight point in a performance, he’s watching you with a giant grin. at their concerts and shows, he’s always hovering around you with a smile and fond look in his eyes. a lot of people have pointed this out too because of how often jiung is caught cheesing at you, but the man cannot and will not ever stop. you two have trained together for a really long time so whenever you stand on your own, he just can’t help but think of all those times when you were trainees working hard together and smile at how far everyone has come, but especially you.
the two of you were on a weverse live, sitting down and eating some food the staff had prepared for you. the other members were either occupied or doing their own activities, meaning you and jiung were the only ones that p1ece were going to be seeing today. your seats were close to each other, your thighs underneath the table and out of vision from the camera, were touching and rocking against the other.
“here, here,” jiung says, bringing a piece of dessert up from the plate and ready to spoon feed it to you. obeying, eyes zeroed in on the treat, you dropped your jaw and closed in around his fork. “it’s good, right?”
you hummed in confirmation, jiung already getting another forkful to feed you again.
“i’m not sure what this is,” you answered, reading the chat and trying to get to as many comments as possible, “but it’s super yummy,”
“very light,” jiung adds in, turning to face the camera after feeding you the second piece. he puts his fork down and also commits to reading more comments, “so cute? well, it’s only cute because [name] is cute,” he pinches your cheek, which you allow while staring deadpan at the camera, “our cute [name],” he coos, laughing at the unimpressed expression on your face.
“he doesn’t like being called cute then,” jiung finalizes, dropping his hand from your cheek and holding yours underneath the table.
“being called cute is fine, just don’t rip my cheeks off while you do,” you scold, pinching his thigh lightly.
“alright, alright,” he appeases, leaning forward and reading more comments, “what are you two doing now? just talking and eating, very calm,” he then turns to you, “do you want to go to the studio?”
you nod, “it’s more comfortable to be set up there,” jiung grabs the stand that the camera was on and hoists it up while you clean up as much as possible before abandoning the room to go to jiung’s private studio.
”p1ece, what have you guys been up to lately? i feel like we haven’t talk in a long time,” jiung makes small talk with the fans, who eagerly respond and hope to be noticed by him. he waits by the door for you to join his side, standing sideways as he watches you. “me and [name] have been working hard for you all, there is a lot that we have planned for you all. [name] has been working so hard on his vocals and we honestly will probably work more after we end the live.” he reads the flying comments, before turning to you and smiling to see that you were done cleaning up.
“it’s always fun to work with [name] because he has such a good voice,” jiung compliments, making you wave your hand in dismission. he pets your head rather aggressively, making your head bop up and down as you walk to the studio, “everyone should compliment [name] right now,”
“that’s too much!” you exclaim, slapping his hand away and pretending to glare at him.
jiung only grins and moves the camera closer to your face, “isn’t he just so cute when he makes that face?”
— jiung values his alone time sooooo much, whenever there is a chance to be alone, he will take it and is content in knowing that all the members respect that precious time for him. but once he has enough of being alone and feels energized, the first person he will look for, is you. it’s cute, how he’ll return to the dorms after spending the whole day by himself on his own little adventures, and the first thing that leaves his lips is your name. when you finally do reunite, he will grin so wide his eyes turn into crescents.
jiung looked down at his phone, a small pout on his lips as he typed back.
“do you need anything while youre in the studio jiji?”
the affectionate nickname warmed his heart and he quickly typed back, not wanting to leave you waiting long.
“no, it’s okay, i’ll see u back at the dorm later :)”
“okkk <3 get back safe”
and that was the end of the conversation.
jiung was so relieved that you were understanding of him and his alone time, it was really something he craved and needed. especially with how hectic the schedules have been, it’s been nothing but work on top of work. and he needed to take personal breathers more often than not. everyone had known each other long enough to not feel offended by his need for personal space, too, which was another big relief.
he spent a couple more hours at the studio, jumping in between personal work and anything regarding their next release. when he was done, he stopped by the 24 hour convenience store and got both him and you a bag of your favorite snacks. he chuckled, walking out of the store knowing that the other members were going to say something about it when they’d find out. right now, they were definitely already sleeping. you were always the only one awake to greet him when he’d come back, as well as any other member that would come home later than usual.
he stopped to his dorm first, changing into comfortable clothes and freshening up before walking down to yours. it was only a couple of doors down and he entered the pin, trying to keep quiet to not interrupt anyone else’s sleep. the moment he walked in, he saw you sitting on the couch and watching a random youtube video.
“[name],” he called out to you, his signature toothy grin on his face. seeing you also in your comfortable pajamas made him smile, enjoying the sight of you all cozied up and relaxed.
”welcome home,” you jokingly greeted, bounding over to him with a smile.
“thank you,” he said quietly, walking over to the kitchen table and putting the snacks down.
“ah, you should’ve told me you were bringing some over, i already brushed my teeth,” you whined, seeing your favorite snack waiting for you. he apologized with a smile on his face, but you weren’t seriously annoyed with him so you just waved him off.
”are you sleeping over tonight?” you ask, walking back to the couch with a bottle of water and tapping the empty space near you, “or are you just stopping by?”
“probably just stopping by,” he shrugs, taking the seat next to you. you hum in response, scratching your eye and fighting back a yawn.
silence soon filled the living room as you kept watching the tv and he mindlessly scrolled on his phone. when he heard you lightly snoring, though, he looked up and smiled at your sleeping form. he set his phone down and carefully got up from the couch to get you more comfortable. he wasn’t going to try carrying you to bed, in fear of waking you up. instead, he scooted your torso down to properly rest on the cushions, so you wouldn’t wake up with back pain. he adjusted the pillow you were using, as well as the blanket covering you. he tucked it in neatly, brushing your hair aside a couple of times as he was smiling softly at you.
“goodnight, [name],” he whispered, patting your head before backing away. he picked up his phone from the table and pocketed it, about to be let himself out and go back to his own dorm. he grabbed the remote, ready to turn off the tv, but stopped when he saw what was playing. he almost laughed too loud, covering his mouth as he watched the otters on the screen play in the water.
were you seriously watching otter videos this entire time?
he lowered the volume, deciding to take a seat and understand what the appeal was. he moved your legs to be on top of his lap, gently moving his hand up and down as he was now completely focused on the television.
the next morning, jongseob woke up to jiung resting his head on your hip and practically cuddling your legs as his feet hung off the end of the couch. he just shook his head and walked over to the kitchen, not too unfamiliar with the habit jiung has of sleeping over. he sees the snacks on the kitchen counter, purposely dodges yours and takes what would have been jiungs’.
other than that, he leaves the two of you to be alone, going back to his own room to rest in bed for a little longer.
— whenever you go out overseas for tour or any other activities, he prefers to spend the free time with you. unfortunately, everyone else also wants to spend time with you, so the compromise is late nights are reserved for the two of you. whether it’s just a quick walk around the block or standing out on the balcony together, jiung likes to explore new places with you, and talk about them. he doesn’t like getting overtly sentimental, so the conversations are usually mindless and comfortable. but internally, he thinks about how grateful he is to have you as such a close companion. as his journey as a trainee, you have probably known him the longest, with intak as a close runner up. he thinks that getting to see new sights and places with you is a true blessing and he hopes the two of you never let this tradition of exploring together go away. it’s something he really looks forward to every time you’re overseas.
— jiung tends to get really competitive when it comes to playing games or anything else remotely team based, usually as seen on their variety shows. but if you’re on the same team as him or the one guilty of ruining his chances of winning, he tries to keep that part of himself in check. the reason is because he’s worried of possibly scaring you or just turning you off from his behavior. now, you’ve seen him get competitive — duh, you’ve known each other for so long and it’s honestly funny to see him get so invested in a simple, childish game. but never has this behavior been targeted to you. and that’s purposeful. he doesn’t want to yell at you, ever, even if it’s just in a game setting where everyone is laughing and having a good time. it just rubs him off the wrong way. every time he thinks of the possibility of him yelling at or raising his voice at you, it leaves a sour taste on his tongue.
“what?! wait! wait! wait! wait! he’s blocking me from getting the cards!” jiung shouts, unsure of who’s hand was in his way — so focused in on the game that he was tunnel visioning on what he needed to do in order to win. the game was intense, everyone was huddled around in a circle and trying their best to empty their hands out into each individual pile. but jiung had run into an obstacle when he was almost done and it was someone else’s hand getting in his way and leaving him behind in a two second time difference.
“blitz! i have no cards left!” keeho announces, doing a victory dance where he sat as he leaves the rest of you in sour moods at losing the round.
”c’mon! who was blocking me?! seriously! i was so close to getting blitz!” jiung shouts, scanning his eyes over everyone with a fiery look in his eyes as he tries to fish out who it was. but then you shoot your hand up and bashfully smile.
“sorry, jiji, i didn’t mean to…” your voice is trailing off, sensing how angry he was and awkwardly trying to save face.
but the moment he saw how meek you had gotten, he took a couple seconds to just breathe and calm down. everyone was waiting for him to explode, which he usually does and then quickly gets over a couple seconds after, but to their surprise, he just waved his hand.
“it’s okay, it’s okay, let’s keep going,” he says, collecting his cards and already getting set up, “but if it happens again, i’ll seriously-”
“it won’t, it won’t,” sensing his teasing tone, you don’t take his threat that serious and only smile and laugh it off as you also get ready for the next round.
everyone else just watches with confused and semi-annoyed looks on their face as you prove immune to jiung’s competitive rage. what a lucky guy you were, they all thought, remembering their own individual instances of jiung’s anger. at least once, everyone has experienced it. and it really isn’t that terrifying, but it was always a hassle of defending ones self against jiung’s stubbornness and bitterness.
but as the two of you just casually talked and smiled about the game, they just sigh and move on, not wanting to complain and ruin the atmosphere.
— jiung, who smiles the widest when you’re nearby. seeing you is enough to get him grinning, but there are certain things you do that he absolutely loves. when you’re focused on dance practice and you just tunnel vision on the instructor and show pure determination, he’s smiling to himself and whispering something to another member or idle camera about your hard efforts and how amazing you were. when you guys are filming for variety content for p1ece, and you spend time talking to the camera — giving special attention to the viewers, he smiles at how mindful and thoughtful you are. at concerts, when you’re free to interact with the crowd as much as you want and not have to worry about choreo, he’ll sometimes catch you doing something slightly embarrassing just to entertain p1ece and that leaves him with the biggest grin known to man. fully “:D” with his eyes crinkling and turning into crescents. next thing you know, you have jiung running over to you with his loud laughter and slapping your back repeatedly. when you’re in the studio, recording, and he’s in charge of directing you, he’s always smiling each time you look at him for feedback while you’re in the booth. no matter what he says, whether it be constructive criticism or words of affirmation, he’s delivering them with a kind, patient smile and loving look in his eyes.
— jiung just naturally sees the best in you. he always thinks highly of you and wishes everyone to do the same, treasuring you so much. it’s a mix of him verbally telling you this and him conveying his thoughts through emotions. he’s not the most affectionate, but he still has his own special ways of making you understand right where his heart lies with you (cough completely enamored by you cough). he is a happy guy as long as you’re near and he hopes that you also see him the same way, eager to make you joyful as well as comfortable. sometimes he’s obnoxiously annoying in singing praises your way, but he can’t help it! he just wants everyone to see you the way he sees you! aka the best.
hwang intak — the first member that is younger than you!! you’re the defining member that is smack dab in the middle of p1harmony in terms of age. one year younger than jiung, theo, and keeho, and one year older than intak, and three years older than soul and jongseob. but a one year difference isn’t the biggest deal in the world, which intak agrees with on most days, but on others, he completely flips opinions and its obvious. what that means is that: some days, intak will be eager to have casual conversation with you, craving that relationship that’s foundation is based on seeing one another equally, instead of a strict, formal type of dynamic. while on some other days, intak succumbs to wanting to completely rely on you as his hyung and, not baby him, but pay special attention to him.
— intak likes to involve you in every aspect of his life. there isn’t a secret that he can keep from you, not that he would want to. but he just has a habit of letting you into every detail, routine, and habit of his. it’s basically the definition of sharing is caring — but with everything. he truly does think it’s only right for him to share everything with you :’( he’s so sweet ill cry.
“hyung, do you need a pair of underwear? these just came out of the wash, they’re still warm!”
“no, thank you, tak, i have enough…?”
he asked the question out of nowhere and was completely unprompted in asking if you wanted a pair of his underwear.
“wait, can you tell me what you think of this choreo? let’s go after lunch?”
“sure, make sure you eat well if you’re going to be dancing a lot later, too,”
“yes, hyung,” he says with the cutest smile on his face, taking a huge bite of his food.
the whole group was waiting backstage for directions on when to go up on stage with the staff all bustling around them. they were doing last minute checks on everything to make sure it was working well, while the members were all trying to calm down and not get too nervous.
intak’s form of doing this is scrolling on his phone, before a staff member has to take it away for when they go up on stage, and watching any funny video that pops up on his feed. when he finds a particularly funny one, the first person he thinks of showing is you. he walks over to where you were talking with one of the stage managers, waiting (im)patiently with a smile on his face.
“what’s up, tak?” you ask, smiling at him, knowing that he probably had something on his phone to show you.
“watch this, please,” he says, trying to hold in his laughter as he thinks of the video he was showing you. he shoves the phone screen closer to your face and in a couple of seconds, you both are breaking out in laughter at the video.
“[name]! intak! come on, we’re gonna huddle,” keeho calls out to you, an unimpressed look on his face as he sees you two semi-goofing off.
a staff comes by swiftly and takes intak’s phone, allowing you two to join the rest of the group in the circle.
— intak always!!! matching your energy. he’ll always always always be there to match you and whatever mood you’re in, especially if he notices that no one else is keeping up with you. he always loves to do this because it makes you end up laughing so hard and/or having the most fun. he likes having those special moments with you because they feel like it’s just the two of you in the room.
it was a gruelling day of practice. everyone was scattered around the room, whether it be on the floor sprawled out like a star or on the chairs lining the corner, slumped over trying to catch their breath. everyone was tired and it was even more tiresome knowing that there was still a couple more hours of practice you all needed to commit to before being allowed to go home.
you were taking in the sight of everyone’s exhaustion, breathing heavily as you tried to think of ideas on how to boost their energy. it was currently that ten minute period where everyone could rest and catch their breath before the choreographers would get back to strict practice. and knowing that the time was almost up, you connected your phone to the surround speakers and played an energetic song.
“c’mon guys! only a couple more hours of practice!” you cheered, trying to get them optimistic, but the “couple more hours” part easily killed any type of optimism that could be in the room. you jumped to the beat of the music, trying to infect them with the same feeling, but they were all just looking at you unimpressed.
“[name], don’t strain yourself too much, we still have to dance more!” jiung tiredly said, waving his hand as if to bring you towards him, to hopefully calm you down. but you just shook your head, belting out the song lyrics that were playing and continuing to jump around.
in a couple of seconds, intak was joining you, head banging to the music and running around the room with you. he appreciates you trying to uplift everyone and didn’t want your efforts to go completely ignored and to waste. he starts joining in on your singing, purposefully off key, and laughing as you do when you hear how awful he sounded.
“how do they have so much energy…” theo sighs, looking at the two of you and just feeling even more exhausted.
the members are all silent as they watch you two goof off for the next couple of minutes, wishing they could join in on your guys’ fun, but feeling way too tired physically.
meanwhile, you and intak are running around the room and laughing your hearts off as the song continues on blaring through the room. the only reason you guys stop is due to the instructor cutting off the music and calling for practice to resume.
you two are panting and you appreciatively pinch his cheeks with how he kept up with you and your antics.
— another funny, unique thing intak likes to do with you is always interacting with p1ece with you. whether it be through weverse lives, at fansigns where he milks fanservice with you for them, or in any other form, he just likes displaying the close relationship you guys have with each other to p1ece. it’s almost as if he’s flexing — how comfortable and in-sync the two of you are with each other, how easily he understands you without you even having to say anything. they love it, anyway, and he loves to do it, so it really doesn’t hurt anyone.
intak walks over to you as you try putting on a costume that someone had gifted you. it was a simple outfit that you think was supposed to mimic turtwig, which p1ece knew as your favorite pokemon. there was a headband with a sprout, which was your representative emoji, and cute cloth shell that mimicked the pokemon’s that was supposed to be worn around your shoulders.
“this is cute,” intak comments, smiling at the costume with a fond look in his eyes. then suddenly, his eyes lit up and he reached further into the box and brought out a pokeball with a proud smile on his face, “hurry up and put it on so i can catch you,”
you laugh at his childish demand, but obey to play along with him. p1ece were watching and aweing at the scene, finding it to be wholesome with how excited intak was to act as a pokemon trainer and you as a turtwig.
when you were just finished putting on the costume, intak suddenly threw the ball in your direction — nailing you right in the face, and causing you to stumble backwards at the sudden impact. p1ece all gasped in shock while the other members began laughing, jiung and theo falling to their knees as you rubbed your cheek.
“what pokemon is gonna let such a rough trainer catch them?!” you joke, smacking intak’s hand away as he tried helping you up — the man himself laughing at the way he had unintentionally injured you.
“i’m sorry, sorry,” he says, but with how hard he was laughing it didn’t seem as though he was that sorry, “please, hyung, it was an accident, it was supposed to hit your chest! i swear!”
“whatever, whatever,” you rub your cheek, that wasn’t even hurting honetly, and shoot him a joking glare.
then, once again — out of nowhere, he grabs the other side of your cheek and pulls you towards him, planting a wet and sloppy kiss on your cheek. instantly, the flashes of the cameras are going off to capture the impromptu moment. you recoil simply because of the wet sensation and rub your cheek, a grimace on your face.
the others break out into another fit of laughter while intak childishly pouts at you, using terrible aegyo to beg for forgiveness. it’s obviously all an act, as well as an excuse to make you laugh, and it works because you’re both forgiving him and laughing with him in the next couple seconds.
”you’re such a bad trainer,” you comment into the microphone, looking to p1ece with an incredulous look on your face, “he’s the only one that can pull something like that off, seriously. because i know intak just wanted to make everyone laugh, so i’ll let it slide. the others don’t have good intentions like that!”
“what?!” keeho exclaims, exaggerating his offense at your comment while everyone in the room breaks out in laughter.
“you’re saying we don’t have good intentions or something?!” theo joins in, crossing his arms over his chest, “c’mere, let me throw the pokeball at your face too, to prove my good intentions!”
“see! that’s what i’m talking about guys!” you shout, running around the small stage to dodge theo’s reeled back arm that was now holding the same pokeball that had hit you in the face earlier.
all the while, intak is grinning ear to ear so hard his cheeks almost hurt, watching you with an obvious content look on his face.
“it’s only…” intak checks his phone that was on the table, then looks back up at the camera, “10PM, not that late,”
he’s by himself in the dance practice room, stretching in front of the camera as he watches the comments all roll in.
“’intak, what’s your lockscreen?’ how did you guys even see my lockscreen?” he laughs at the random question, playing with his phone in his lap, “oh, you just want to know?” he looks at the screen, deciding that it wasn’t even that bad to show. and the photo itself made him smile anyway, so he wanted to share it with p1ece for that reason as well.
“it’s a photo of me and [name]-hyung,” he says, turning the phone around and showing it to the camera, “i change it a lot, though, but this was from when we went out recently, late at night. there was a cool mirror, so we took a photo. and i liked it, so i use it as my lockscreen and homescreen,”
it was the type of “fish-eye” mirrors that were in conveinces stores so that the owner can see the entire store. the photo was a simple mirror selfie with you squeezing intak’s cheeks together as he took the photo, a smile on each of your faces.
“’so cute’, yes, we are, hyung is,” he laughs, turning his phone off and setting it aside, “’what’s his lockscreen?’ i don’t know…i don’t really look at it, but i think it’s just a picture of all of us, i think of our hands? i’m not sure, i’ll ask him when i see him and then let you guys know,” he smiles as he sees the comments affectionately talking about you two, mainly about how cute the photo was.
“’what’s your contact name for [name]?’ ah, didn’t he make the tiktok about it recently? it’s still the same as it was then, just ‘best hyung.’…what? why? why’s everyone saying that i should change it? change it to what?” he opens his phone and opens the messager app, scrolling up and down your contact information, “i think it’s cute though? he likes it too,”
he waits to see what people suggest, making an ‘o’ with his mouth as he continued reading, “oh, make it cuter or add an emoji? that’s what you guys meant! that’s not that bad of an idea, but i don’t know what i’d put…not a sprout, jongseobie already has that for him. how about…”
intak spends the next couple minutes rambling about you as well as answering any questions p1ece had about you, such as your whereabouts and what you were up to nowadays. intak is definitely the guy that would air out all your business to everyone, but in a fond, respectable way. obviously, he doesn’t tell them overly personal information or things he knows you wouldn’t want anyone knowing, it’s more-so, just the silly little things that he tells them.
— quick to take your side if there is ever a disagreement or fight that breaks out in the group. fights are common, but for little trivial things (you guys are bound to squabble every now and then, it’s inevitable). and intak doesn’t really mean to take your side, to show bias and favoritism, it’s just he has a really strong sense of loyalty and he always feels that same feeling from you, so he just reciprocates it. that loyalty of his makes him one of your reliable support systems and a trustworthy person to have if time ever get rough.
it was a pretty small thing to fight about, but everyone’s emotions were amped up because of recently stressful times. nothing harmful was exchanged between you and keeho when you were fighting, but you two did need some space to recollect and approach the situation with clearer minds.
you stormed out of the dorm, keeho staying behind and locking himself in his room. the members watched with wide eyes, sighing as they left the matter alone to not get too involved. besides, you and keeho were grown men that could talk this out when you were ready to, you didn’t need to be forced to apologize to each other, like you were kids or something.
and intak agrees with that. but he is concerned on where you would storm off to so late at night. which is why he ran after you, grabbing yours and his coat on his way out. thankfully, you didn’t get too far before he caught up with you. the walk to an empty park nearby was silent, intak knowing that he shouldn’t pester you for small chat as you were definitely not in the mood for it right now.
instead, he took a silent stance next to you as you gently swung back and forth on the swing seat.
“it’s just!” you suddenly exclaim, “we are all high strung right now, we’re all tired! i wish i had more control of how i handled the situation, but i just can’t always be so hyper aware of everything going on around me.” you sighed, hanging your head low as intak lent you an ear to listen to all of your worries. “i should go back and apologize,”
“hold on, let’s just stay here a little while longer. the both of you might need some space, even if it’s just for a couple more minutes,” intak says, speaking softly and gently. you understand where he’s coming from and, thankfully, agree, settling back onto the swing set.
“thanks for coming after me intak, you didn’t have to, i would’ve been fine,” you say quietly, reaching out and squeezing his hand in yours.
“it’s alright, i was just worried something might have happened if you were alone,” he explains, crouching down to take a seat on the mulch beside you, “are you feeling better?”
“yeah, i think i feel even better knowing that you were here, though. seriously, you didn’t have to,”
”i wanted to, though,” he shrugs, not finding it a big deal and thinking about how he would 100% run after you again if a similar situation ever arises in the future, “i’ll always be here, okay? so will everyone else,”
that makes you fondly pet his hair down as a soft thank you escapes your lips, again. intak’s heart is the kindest and his approach of tending to you and the members makes that obvious.
— intak who is extremely sensitive to your mood and energy because he’s known you for so long, the shifts of mood don’t catch him off guard. he’s rather in tune with them, as if they’re his own. and he likes to brag about this special connection that you two have, calling it the utmost unique one in the entire group. he makes it obvious to p1ece that he feels this way too, not shy in staking “claim” of being the person who knows you the best in the group. intak who would easily follow you to the ends of the earth because he trusts you that much and knows that if you two are in it together, it won’t be that bad. he just needs you and some good energy and he’ll be content for the rest of his life.
haku shota — (okay prefacing i have an extremely soft spot for seobsoul as the youngests in piwon and it will most definitely show in these hcs so please beware!!!) now that’s out of the way, you’re someone that soul can trust completely. he has the most trust and faith and abundance of love for you, he will easily follow whatever you say because he believes that you’d never lead him “astray.” he trusts you that much. is always looking at you for some sort of approval or confirmation before doing anything, especially when you guys first debuted. you were like a guiding light to him, and continue to be, when he was literally dropped into a foreign country with no guardian type of figure.
“they’re free?” shota asks intak, who was standing beside him. they were waiting at the front desk of the restaurant, waiting for the other members to come back from the bathroom. and as they were waiting, they noticed that there was a small basket of what seemed to be mints, as well as a sign above them. but since it was written in english, shota couldn’t properly decipher what it said. “where’s hyung?”
“still in the bathroom,” intak pouts, looking at the mints longingly.
“is there anything i can help you with?” the hostess asks, noticing their gazes set on the basket, smiling softly at them.
to not embarrass themselves, intak and shota simply shake their heads and step away, offering her a weak smile.
“you guys look so awkward,” your voice calls out to them, offering the lady a smile as you pass by before joining intak and shota, “what’s up with those looks on your faces?”
you find it comical how they’re standing like lost school boys, but your laughter is cut off when shota suddenly grabs ahold of your hand and squeezes tight. “huh? what is it?”
“are those candies for us to take?” he asks quietly, and although he’s speaking korean, it’s as if he’s scared the hostess is secretly bilingual and can understand what he’s saying. you read the mini sign and nod you head in confirmation.
“it’s say, please take one — so yeah, they’re free and for the guests after eating. you want one?” you ask politely, smiling as he nods immediately, intak speaking up behind him and wanting one for himself too. you walk up to the woman, smile at her again and try to not make it a big deal that you’re taking a handful of mints.
the other members would probably want ones for themselves too, was your logic. when you walked back to intak and shota, their eyes were sparkling as they saw the many mints in your palm. intak took it immediately and popped one in his mouth while shota just hummed in delight and sucked on it.
“thank you, hyung,” soul says, smiling as he grabs your free hand and swings it back and forth.
“of course, shota,” you say, ruffling his hair and then stepping off to the side to not be in anyone’s way as you wait for the other members.
“is it okay?” is a line shota says often with his eyes marked on you, making it obvious he’s seeking your approval for something. it was something that started when he was first a trainee with you guys, when he needed someone to guide him through a lot of things, and it has become a harmless habit ever since.
you’d never scold him for relying on you, in fact shota thinks you welcomed that part of his behavior with open arms, which he appreciates. you’re a really big comfort to him, your mere presence next to him helps calm him down.
— he will be really affectionate with you, similiar to keeho. just think about this man’s relationship with keeho, too!! like they’re attached to the hip. he claims the affection he shows you has a different intention when compared to keeho, but you don’t notice because: to you, affection is affection and it’s always welcome !! shota sometimes can’t express in words how much love and appreciation he has for you, or he is too lazy to or it just isn’t appropriate, so instead he’ll show it through actions.
“so, today, i’m working in the studio — as you can obviously see!” you’re on weverse live and it just started a couple minutes ago, so you were giving p1ece the update on what you were doing, “i don’t know what the other members are doing, but i think—”
your cut off when the door behind you opens out of nowhere and it’s a shota staring at you. he’s grinning ear to ear, but you wouldn’t know since he’s wearing a mask on his face. he steps forward, not paying attention to the camera propped up on your desk and only focusing in on you.
“ah, shota, say hi to p1ece,” he hums in response, making a random grunting noise as he stops by your side, making you laugh at his odd behavior. he grabs your cheeks with both his hands, smooshing your face together which only prompted more laughter from you. then he’s leaning down and pressing his lips to your forehead, the sensation odd due to the mask in between you two.
but you receive it nonetheless, thanking him loudly with laughter as he pulls away. he smiles, moving close once more to kiss scarily close to your mouth, right on the corner of your lips, but once again the barrier of the mask acts as the last resort safe guard.
”wow, that was close, shota,” you say, surprised at his bold behavior, “shota is extra confident today,” you say to the camera this time, laughing as you read the comments that were freaking out about the surprise kiss, “’did he kiss me?’ yeah, riiight here,” you point to the corner of your mouth, which is now stretched into a smile, “plus, he was wearing a mask,”
shota stands behind you, now playing with the ends of your hair and listening to what you were saying every now and then.
“’[name] wasn’t even surprised lollol’ no, because he does this all the time. sho is very affectionate, guys, really touchy,” he smiles under his mask and decide that he’s going to leave, to not intrude too much on your own live.
you look behind and see him pointing to the door, nodding in understanding, “you’re going straight to the dorm or to practice?” he grunts, making hand gestures which you interpret as him saying he was going to practice.
“okay, don’t stay out for too long, it’s already late, too,” you advise, shooting him a pointed look.
he nods vigorously, saluting to you as well. you laugh and mimic him, but in a less enthusiastic way.
before he leaves, he throws a peace sign to the camera and plants one more kiss onto your cheek, then forcing your hood on top of your head and slamming the door behind him. the live chat is saying how hectic those past three seconds were, but you just fondly smile and agree.
“but he’s always like that, so it’s not that surprising, everyone. that’s just regular soul,” you say, a genuine smile on your face as you pay attention to each comment.
— silently shares a lot of his interests with you. you already have a huge common one: pokemon, but other things that interest him are also made aware to you through gift giving. for some reason, shota loves buying you gifts of things that you don’t even know the reference to?? well, most of them are popular, so you know at least something about them, but other times, it’s just random figurines of characters you don’t recognize littered around your dorm. he makes them blend in with the already existing decor on purpose, smiling as he sets them up as he thinks of the expression you make each time you discover one. it’s like a fun game; what will soul leave behind each time he visits your room? each time, he’s guaranteed to leave something, it’s just a matter of if you find it or not.
— he does not like sharing his clothes with anyone!! it’s just not his style, he doesn’t like sharing with others and he doesn’t want people sharing their clothe with him. what’s his is his and what’s yours is yours, respectfully. one thing that soul doesn’t mind sharing with you, and only you, though, is some of his rings…not all of them!! just select ones! he’s very protective of his belongings, especially his rings, so it was a genuine surprise the first day he put it on your finger, but you came to realize it was only a select few he was comfortable sharing. but the fact he was sharing them with you in the first place was already fascinating and left you with a warm feeling in your chest because you knew how special they were to him.
“this one,” soul gently whispers as you two stand in his room. you’re crowding his desk, where he’s sitting and you’re standing. you watch him go through his jewelry boxes before your outing together. he made a comment on how you were missing essential accessories and then before you knew it, he was dragging you to his room to showcase all the jewelry he had for you to wear for the day.
the one he was holding now was a simple thick, silver band, and he tried it on each of your fingers, gently sliding it on and off to see where it fit best. when he finally saw that it was a perfect fit for your ring finger, he smiled up at you in pride. just when you thought that was enough, he turned back to his collection and began choosing another one.
“one more, it looks silly if you’re only wearing one,” he says in a matter fact tone, and since he was definitely more experienced with accessorizing, you just trusted him. even if it was a matter of opinion, you didn’t need to know that…
he pulls out a more special looking one, a dragon themed ring that has an edgy feel to it. this one goes on your middle finger pretty snug and he smiles wide, happy to see you wearing his jewelry.
“we’re matching,” he says, showing his heavily adorned fingers. the rings themselves weren’t matching, but you suppose he meant in general.
“we are, you have the coolest things, sho,” you say, looking at your fingers with a grin on your face. your hand goes up to ruffle his hair, then resting on the base of his neck as you guide him out of his room, “now, what should our first stop be?”
“food,” he says, happily walking beside you as you go out for your “date.”
— the other member often complain about how you give jongseob and soul the easiest time when it comes to the rigorous training, but they eventually stop bringing it up when one time you went particularly hard on them for their criticism. since that day, they’ve stopped talking about it and just silently wallow in their discovery as they watch you tend to jongseob and soul more than the rest. sometimes, though, their frustration about your difference in behavior does slip out — but no one actually walks away from it with their feelings hurt, so shota will silently continue to take advantage of it…
“i’m tired,” soul huffs, hands on his knees as he watches the reflection of the group in the mirror. he looks to you, pouting as he asks in a light tone, “can we take a quick break?”
“no, we already took one earlier, we have to practice for longer before taking a break,” jiung denies, shaking his head excessively to show that the idea wasn’t going to slide.
“but-”
“we can take a five minute break, or you can shota, it’s alright,” you defend immediately, waving your hand for him to take that as his signal to rest for a little bit.
”c’mon, [name], don’t go so easy on him,”
“yah, he’s the one that’s working the hardest, he has the dance break in the middle of the already hard choreo! don’t you feel some sypathy?”
“we all are working hard, thou-”
“i know, and i’m tired too, but imagine how shota feels, he’s the one that has to use the most energy out of all of us!”
“…i guess you’re right,”
there’s a heavy sigh as they realize you won’t back down, standing firm as shota’s defender. he’s grateful because he really was almost completely worn out at this point and it was seriously getting to him.
“only a couple minutes, okay?” you gently, but sternly check with him to which he nods in understanding. he smiles at your way of caring for him, holding your hand and planting a kiss on the back before releasing it and flopping to the wood floor of the practice room.
— always wants to be in contact with you. kind of going hand in hand with that other point i made, but to really drive it home, he always wants to be in arms reach of you. he’s holding your hand whenever he has the chance, if you guys are sitting, he’s practically resting in your lap and shamelessly hugging you close. he likes to monopolize on affection because he knows you’re also comfortable giving it. he’s selfish in this sense, not really wanting to share you with others when he’s feeling particularly needy. he’ll slot himself into your arms and stay there for as long as possible, no matter the setting.
you guys were all watching the scenes that you had just filmed back, intent on catching if something was wrong. you were on set to film a music video and it was nearing the end of the day, so everyone was rather mellowed out and tired.
shota took his place standing beside you, resting his chin on your shoulder as he watched the clip back. you gently run your hand up and down his back to comfort him of his tiredness, but it only makes him wish to slip into sleep.
“okay, soul, jongseob, theo, and [name], you’re done filming for the day, keeho, jiung, and intak, there is just one more scene we need to run through with you guys,” the three respond with as much enthusiasm as possible, stepping forward to follow the director’s instructions.
one of your managers comes forward and guides the rest of you to get unready in the dressing rooms, commenting on how after the three were done filming and getitng unready as well, they were going to be sending everyone home. that made the rest of you cheer in relief, taking a seat into the chair to let the makeup staff do their work.
soul had to fight the urge to fall asleep in his seat, watching his reflection and yours in the mirror to try and keep his eyes open. you were out of the makeup chair faster than the others, changing back into your regular clothes, and then collapsing onto the couch and sighing in relief to finally lay down. soul was next to be free, changing as fast as possible, and then falling right on top of you on the couch.
“sho, there’s so many other open spots,” you groan, turning over so that you were now laying on your back and holding soul directly to your person.
”you’re more comfortable,” he explains easily, placing a peck on your cheek and then resting his face into your neck and breathing in your scent.
you try ignoring the staff that was filming you with their camera, getting content for who knows what, and follow suit to shota closing his eyes. it seemed the two of you were the only ones that knocked out for a quick nap because when you were woken up by keeho, everyone else was already ready to go.
on the ride back to the dorms, shota was still clinging to your side and resting his head on your shoulder the entire car ride back. he rested your intertwined hands in his lap, too, playing with them until he fell back asleep.
— relying on you if he has trouble communicating something. ever since you were trainees, you made it clear that you were there to support him if he ever had trouble vocalizing something due to the language barrier. frustratingly, he had trouble with that a lot — especially early on when he was training with everyone. but you proved to be a reliable pillar for him to lean on when he had hit a roadblock in terms of what to say in korean. you try your best and even attempting to learn some japanese for him. nowadays, it isn’t nearly as often as it was before, but he still looks to you first for some assistance if he ever needs it. he realizes how he’s in an incredibly vulnerable position, to be asking you for help on something as important as clarifying or completely translating something to him, but he trusts you completely and knows there’s no malicious intent that you could have towards him (you’ve proven that to him many times).
— shota who feels the most comfortable with you, in all aspects. in showing affection, in sharing his opinion, in being himself, he can do it all if you’re right there by his side. this trust and faith definitely stems from how your relationship was formed in your trainee days, but shota doesn’t mind and instead takes advantage of your deep bond with one another. he often talks about taking you back to japan with him for a return visit (you had already went with him a couple other times, he just wants to bring you back so you can spend more time with him in his home country), speaking of how you need to spend more time with his dogs, too. he wants to keep you as close as possible, both physically and figuratively — in terms of your emotional connection and he will do anything to ensure that.
kim jongseob — maknae timeeee!!!!! despite being the youngest, jongsoeb by far has the most experience on the process of becoming and being a kpop idol. he was a trainee since he was practically 11 years old, so he was more versed in the industry than anyone else. unfortunately, due to his young age, people often don’t take him seriously. well, the members definitely do because they were pretty intimidated by him the first time they all met, but other people that work with don’t often show him the respect he deserves. but since your guys’ first meeting, you were always courteous and respectful to him, showing through your actions and words that you took him seriously and genuinely saw him to be the artist he worked so hard in becoming. because of this, he holds a special place for you in his heart — incredibly special. to be respected so quickly by someone older, even though you yourself were talented, was a huge honor and pleasant surprise to him.
“[name]! jongseobie is looking for you!” keeho announces, walking into one of the public spaces of the building and tapping your shoulder, “he’s in his studio, so i think it has to do with whatever he’s making,”
you tap intak off of your shoulder, standing up and grabbing your phone from your table. you frown slightly seeing several missed calls and texts from the man himself, pocketing the device and thanking keeho for telling you. the walk is short, going up to the designated floor where the private studios were and making a beeline for jongseob’s.
you knocked a couple times before he opened the door for you, smiling softly when he saw that it was you.
“why weren’t you answering my texts?” he asks with a drawl in his voice, an in between of teasing and whining. you chuckle softly at it, taking your seat next to him and explaining that your phone was just in do not disturb mode for the evening. “do not disturb? can’t you make it where there are exceptions? i should be on that list,”
“i didn’t even know that was a thing,” you defend yourself, but he just clicks his tongue and types away at his keyboard. then, he hands you the mic stand. “huh?”
“just do runs over the melody,” he says quickly, hitting his space bar and pushing his chair back so that he could carefully watch you, “i think it would sound like this,” he then weakly vocalizes a unique melody you’d never heard before, “but i wanted to hear you do it, it’d sound better and help me more than if i did it myself,”
“okayy,” you mimic the sound he made, earning a smile from him as he nods along, egging you on in continuing and letting you choose how the rest of it would sound.
jongseob likes involving you in a lot of his creative processes, similar to jiung. but you’re definitely invited to the studio more with jongseob than you are jiung. this is partly due to the fact that jongseob finds a lot of inspiration in you, as well you naturally helping in unblocking whatever creative dilemma he’s in.
he just always remembers when you two were still trainees and how much respect you had given him. it’s a thought that crosses his mind at least once a day, feeling grateful to have had you there to believe in him wholeheartedly since the beginning.
— briefly mentioned in jiung’s section, but whenever you guys go overseas, who you spend the most of your time with outside of the hotel room is supposed to be evenly split…supposed to. but the reality is that jongseob is the first to invite you out and — first come, first serve, right? he’s always eager to see the sights with you because he claims you make the perfect center piece for his photography and he likes how you two often share similar interests. when you two go out, his camera is strapped to his torso and you’re both eagerly taking in the foreign sights.
“wait, where did [name] go?” intak asks, coming out of the shower with his hair still damp and towel hanging off of his shoulders, “we were gonna go to the dining hall for lunch,”
“i think jongseob and him went out,” soul mindlessly answers, scrolling on his phone as he lounges on the couch, “me and [name] hyung are going out for dinner, though, so…”
“what?!”
meanwhile, you and jongseob were already a couple of blocks away from the hotel and popping in and out of stores that had caught your eye. occasionally, you’d hear the click of his film camera, but by the time you turn around to look at him with a playful glare, he’s already setting it back onto his hip with an innocent smile on his face.
— jongseob is probably the most vocal in talking about how much admiration and love he has for you. but it’s subtle slips into a conversation vocal, not the kind that is just “screamed” at the top of his lungs. there’s two different ways of speaking about someone, ykwim? there’s explicitly saying how you feel about them and then there’s talking fondly of them softly, but in every passing sentence. jongseob is definitely the latter. he isn’t the type to lay out all his emotions for others to perceive, instead he’ll calmly, but lovingly compliment you and your personality (constantly, at that). he makes it obvious how much he appreciates you, just not super “loudly” if that makes sense.
the group was getting interviewed individually for a behind the scenes video for the killin it album. jongseob sat in front of the cameras with a confident smile on his lips, waiting for the next comment the directors had to make.
“when you’re writing lyrics, is there anything else that you keep in mind besides the obvious meaning behind the words?”
he hummed, thinking about his answer for a couple of seconds before coming to a concrete answer, “i think about a couple of things, but at the forefront of my mind is how it will sound and how well each member can execute it. for example, for soul, i purposely choose easier to pronounce words to not make it incredibly difficult. and when i am making the general beat or melody, i tend to think about how [name] hyung would execute it. to me, he has the most raw voice that i really love working with and he is also enthusiastic about helping me create the vision before sending the draft to whoever needs to hear it next. his voice alone can inspire a lot of things from me, too, so i tend to just think about him when i compose things or come up with lyrics.”
there isn’t an ounce of embarrassment evident on his face as he speaks so truthfully and passionately about you.
the next question the director asked was, “do the members have a strong say in who gets which line?”
“well, me and intak just write our own raps, and come together occasionally if we get stuck — but dividing our parts up is easy, it’s just a matter of where in the song the verses are going to be. as for the vocals, i have a strong preference to [name] hyung’s voice, so the others have learned to tune me out of the discussion when it comes to the vocal department. i just end up saying he should get all the parts. but as far as i know, it’s mainly through civil discussion on how they divide the lines,” he laughs after confessing that, making viewers wonder how serious he was about what he just said. but he really drives it home, saying, “everyone in p1harmony has a unique voice, but i just really gravitate towards [name] hyung’s, i don’t know why because it’s been like this since we were trainees.”
“do you often get writing slumps or are unable to create something that suits your taste? was it especially challenging this time because you knew you were preparing for a full length album?”
jongseob hummed again, finding these questions fun to answer, “i mean, of course, everyone gets writer’s block. i just try getting over it as soon as possible by listening to music that i like and thinking of that as inspiration. but if it gets really bad, i just distance myself and try relaxing,”
“how do you relax then?”
“just sleeping, or spending time with the members, but mainly sleeping. i don’t like to over exert myself with dancing or vocal exercise too much, so i rely on sleep and [name] hyung to recharge my personal battery,” he laughs at how silly it sounds, but nods to himself knowing that he told the truth.
after the behind the scenes video dropped, p1ece were quick to point out how often jongseob had mentioned you in any question regarding his creative process. and it was heartwarming to see that every mention of you was done with a smile and positive feeling.
“that’s how you know he really loves [name], he basically called him his muse”
“[name] has been supporting him since they debut so its no surprise jongseob is so open in involving in his song writing and stuff, it’s really nice to see that nothing has changed between these two <333”
→ “i hope they can be together for the longest time, they really compliment each other so well”
“when i’m in an appreciating [name] contest and my opponent is kim jongseob.”
“the fact that he thinks about how to the song will sound with [name]’s voice in mind, this lil boy from p1harmony really does love [name]”
“the vitamin’s vitamin is [name] lollol”
— opposite to shota, doesn’t mind sharing his clothes with you. he finds it cute that sometimes he randomly picks a shirt from his dresser and it’s one of yours. and he loves when you two are seeing each other for the first time in the morning and he instantly recognizes the shirt that you’re wearing as his. jongseob’s style is very comfortable, baggy clothes, so it’s mainly sweatpants, hoodies, and oversized t-shirts that end up being co-owned by you. he genuinely doesn’t mind. in exchange, he takes some of your clothes too! so it’s basically a fair trade off (not underwear though, he’s no a #nasty gal like intak — who definitely doesn’t mind sharing underwear with you lmao). loves when they’re on the more oversized end because that’s just his style. loves absolutely drowning in whatever garment he’s wearing that is actually yours. playing with the strings of the sweatpants or snapping the waist band against his skin several times, making his hands drown in the hoodie sleeves, he just finds it so fun to play with clothes if they’re yours. welcomes you to do the same with his too.
— has a really sentimental photo of the two of you at his work desk. it’s in a simple, but nice, frame and was from your trainee days together. you’re both so much younger, obviously too, but you’re both smiling so wide it’s infectious to him each time he sees it and he smiles too. he thinks it was intak or keeho that took the photo, he can’t remember anymore.
it was when everyone was in the practice room for much later than they should’ve been. he remembers being exhausted and just wanting to go home, but with some encouragement and energy from you, he was determined to get through the entire practice. and when it was announced they were finally done, the two of you collapsed onto the hardwood floor and were just panting in fatigue. the reason you were laughing was just the synchronicity of the action, making you turn to face each other and burst out into a fit of laughs.
whoever had snapped the photo took it in a the fraction of a second, showing it to you two with a proud look on his face. you requested for it to be printed out while jongseob only felt as though it was just a silly photo. when he saw it printed out, though, he suddenly felt sentimental about the memory and wanted his own copy.
he’s recently taken up photography nowadays and it’s usually film, sometimes digital. but with each picture he takes of you, he always tells himself that he’ll end up adding that photo to the one existing on his desk. but he can’t bring himself to choose one out of the stack of printed photos he has of you, so he usually just keeps them safe in his dorm room, occasionally hanging one up there. but never in his studio. he finds that the singular one there is a strong enough memory for him to use as inspiration to keep trying harder and harder each time he works. he doesn’t want to disappoint the you and him of the past, the ones that worked so hard to get to where you were now.
— jongseob being an extremely sentimental guy, but in private. and if not in private, quietly in public. no one really notices this about him, but it’s especially obvious whenever the conversation regards you. he knows he owes so much to you, for what you provided for him during their pre-debut days, and he doesn’t want to let you down now. he continues to push himself in excelling for that reason, as well as a multitude of others (such as, wanting to see the group truly succeed and get what they deserve). an incredibly emotional mature person for his age and it’s made obvious to others with how he carries himself and articulates his feelings. that’s another thing he accredits to you, for properly guiding him. another reason he can’t let you down.
┆ if u made it this far omg i applaud u...this shit is so long, i hope u enjoyed reading about seventh member piwon endeavors!!! i had fun writing them and imagining them. i tried to make it non-repetitive as possible too, and i think (?) i did a relatively good job with that because each members felt unique in some way :3 okay bye thank u sm for reading - if u got this far !!
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chososchalupa · 10 months ago
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chuuya headcanons?
i love love LOVE Chuuya omg also this is my first BSD request and i was so excited when i saw this. please send more <3
Also was not sure if you meant boyfriend!Chuuya or just Chuuya in general so i did a mix of both
word count - 340
Chuuya Headcanons
♡ Chuuya is def a big horror movie fan but he will also be anxious af after watching them (you’d think being a mafia executive he’d be numb to that but no, ghosts are scary)
♡ Chuuya is obvi insecure about his height, (he would never admit it) but the jokes people make about it do get to him a little bit so he’ll definitely need some reassurance once in a while.
♡ He is a GREAT cook and has taught Akutagawa some meals that he could cook for himself and Gin 
♡ Speaking of Akutagawa, Chuuya has huge big brother energy towards him, he is there for him no matter what and he’s one of the few people Akutagawa has actually talked to about his feelings (it was mostly about Dazai and Chuuya had a LOT of choice words about him ofc)
♡ Boyfriend! Chuuya is sooo romantic, like the type of dude to buy you flowers at LEAST once a week. He loves to show you how much he appreciates you
♡ Besides flowers, he's just a big gift giver in general, (rich boy asf), especially on holidays/ your anniversary but honestly, he doesn't need a reason to get you a gift. If he sees something he knows you’ll like, he's buying it for you.
♡ He is a HUGE cuddler, and he enjoys being little spoon once in a while but not that often yk
♡ NSFW! Boyfriend!Chuuya who is definitely a lil bit vanilla most of the time, like, he’ll do whatever you want but he mostly enjoys slow sex as its more sentimental and he just feels closer with you 
♡ BUT if you get Chuuya in a bad mood, specifically after working with Dazai for a day, he will actually rip you to shreds. He is going to take allll his anger out on you and it's def going to be hard to walk the next day
♡ Hes for sure into handcuffs and any type of bondage, not so much into hitting or hurting you in anyway though (unless you want him to)
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needfantasticstories · 9 months ago
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Hi again, @twistedstoryteller!
Okay, LU recs off the top-ish of my head in a sort of organized-ish order:
AUTHORS!
Angst, Action, and Mixed:
Faerule and the No Good Very Bad Road Trip by ImperialKatwala, PolynomialPandemic is a great "Chain Meets Hyrule" fic.
@gintrinsic-writing is phenomenal. A gem. I love all of it, but check the tags to find ones you're comfortable with. AO3 Blood Like Yours is my personal favorite, and the sequel Like Fire in Your Veins by @pocketramblr are both about Hyrule's Blood Curse from Adventures of Link. M for Violence for most of them, but check tags to be sure. If you like it, consider also...
Protector of the Golden Power by Sillus Hyrule centric but he has a different secret.
@somer-writes has a lot of great short one shots, some darker than others. My personal favorite is a sort of character study of the boys at their lowest and how they recover called "Depletion"
For a Sliver of Sunlight by tirsynni: Warrior's dedication to his brothers makes him question his title as Hero.
What are You to a God Slayer by Secretlysheikah BAMF Sky
Brethren in a Cradle by Skyward_Arpeggio BABY!!!! It is adorable, if a bit sad at the start.
Always Darkest Before the Dawn (Linked Universe Whumptober 2023) by Skyward_Arpeggio because in general they don't go above T ratings and write excellent fics.
this year it taught me (lost and ambitious) by qar Also EXCELLENT writer. "Sky has a separate moment with each member of the team"
Whumptober 2023 by Arecaceae Great fics! Plus, "Each story will have warnings in the tags and the story notes as well as a 0-5 whump rating. The ratings will be relative to my writing, so my 5 might not be equivalent to someone else's 5. I don't write MCD, extreme gore, non-con, or extreme emotional angst."
Major's Whumptober 2023 by major_de_speed Major's are also quite clean despite the M rating which is more about the violence.
Linkeduniverse Shorts by Skyward_Arpeggio LU Short fics
A Royal Castletown Wedding by Skyward_Arpeggio This story is so good!!!!!!!!!
Whumptober 2022 by Arecaceae more great fics, rated T.
LU Whump Dump by UnexpectedStormy (ArtemiStorm)  need AO3 account to read, but worth it! Linked Universe Whumpy One-Shots, rated T.
There's one I'm missing, and when I find it I'll add it here. It involves a cursed magical artifact that Legend messes with... it's intense.
Fluffier Fics:
Frosty Reception by Skyward_Arpeggio "Four’s glad to finally be home again, and he’s not the only one happy at his return." Cute fic!
S’more Stories by Ginger375 "A collection of drabbles and mini-fics for LUtober! Day 31: Costumes"
Sentiment by Arecaceae
nine heroes, one spirit by Imjustherefortheangst, uncleskyrule (unclemoriarty) tons of great short fics, all with G-T ratings
Finding Family by Tashacee "AU where Wild's scars are a lot worse and he isn't used to interacting with people. The Chain think their new brother is dope af and are determined to make him feel at home."
My Heart's Forsaken Me by sister_dear "Four looses his sword in the heat of battle, and it's picked up by someone else... Time’s aren’t the only secrets coming to light, and the gang discovers they still have a thing or two to learn from each other."
Ambush at the Bridge by JinxedRuby Very action and healing oriented fic, multiple perspectives on one event.
Dark Clouds on the Horizon by CubanCracker62 "he Chain ends up in Wild's era shortly before the events of TotK."
There are worse ways to stay alive by EliotRosewater one shots rated T.
Crack Fics:
Misplaced Heroes by notOK this had me busting out laughing SO MANY TIMES!
Peak Gremlin Energy by defenestration_nation "Fics focusing on various Links being chaotic gremlins"
Not Necessarily LU, but Adjacent or just LoZ:
Blood of the Hero by Skye_the_Lofty_Nutcase: (Wild) Link's parents have to step in to save him when the Shrine of Resurrection gets damaged. His parents are so well written, and Abel makes appearances in LU-related/adjacent fics, The Many Misadventures of Dad Squad and Dad Squad AU by Nancyheart, Silver_Captain82403, Skye_the_Lofty_Nutcase
which is part crack and part angst, mostly lighthearted.
Don't Worry Man, I'm from the Yiga Clan: Link makes a Yiga friend due to being a delightful chaos gremlin.
Feature MCD... but might be worth it:
And Still the Cradle Blooms by Solistrix: GORGEOUS literary masterpiece. The writing is unreal. It's descriptions and emotions are incredible. This is more like finding the meaning in eventual death, so of the three here I suspect you'll like this one best as far as not being too hurt by the character's mentioned end.
This is an Adjuration: I'll be real, this is full of action and excitement but yes, it has MCD and is making me cry, but it's also REEEEAAALLY good!
Blood Drops on Roses by HotCheetohatred Fantastic storytelling! Wild centric, Twi is big brother but from day one of Wild's journey. Unreliable young Wild as narrator is an absolute delight. Unfinished, no MCD yet, but it's in the tags so no promises.
Modern AUs for not-big-on-modern-au fans:
As a fellow not-seeker of modern AUs, I personally have enjoyed the following
@skyward-floored Incredibles AU
Wild’s Wolf by HotCheetoHatred "Modern AU where young Wild is a feral forest child, raised by Wolf Twilight. He is captured, separated from Twilight, and put under observation. Time helps him escape." Unfinished, and I admit personal bias here because HotCheetoHatred is my BETA reader.
ARTISTS!!!
@ovegakart: amazing action, gut-busting humor, and captivating storytelling! Does comics
@la-sera: beautiful, ethereal, and gorgeous illustrations and a great storyteller, loves downfall duo but does every one of the boys justice
@dfanart: HILARIOUS and such heartfelt emotions on them boys.
@kikker-oma great art from fluff to whump to action
@1caru has so many fluffy LU gems!
@linderosse has a Zelda's meet AU, does LU, and much more!
@lele5429 great illustrations and abstract pieces of LU fanart.
@theecholegend hahaha... arson.
@ikaishere has so many cute LU ones.
@thepinklink fabulous LU character sketches
@hiimgin BIAS! I got to work with them and they are FABULOUS!
@pluviatrix has art for their fic And Still the Cradle Blooms
@cherrypaii has fantastic illustrations of these boys!
AND MANY, MANY MORE!
(Commenters, please add artists I forgot. I know there are a ton Im missing!!)
Hope this helps you feel welcome!
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ghulehunknown · 10 months ago
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Papa Headcanons - Valentine’s Day 💕
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Rated PG-13 for implied adult themes!
Oh my goodness, it’s Valentine’s Day! How will your beloved celebrate with you?
~💘💝💘~
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Primo
Gives you a beautiful bouquet of roses grown in his garden
Surprises you with herbal tea in bed while he makes you breakfast
He arranges for everyone in the Ministry to send a secret valentine to an assigned person, so you all get a cute card or treat
He’s surprisingly very into theming so he wears a red robe and mitre that day, and eats lots of pink foods
He gives everyone a single flower, even his least favorite ghoul
Says he has a nice surprise for you later; lit candles everywhere, your favorite snacks, a bubble bath, and some lingerie for…certain activities after you relax 🛁
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Secondo
Also surprises you with breakfast in bed, complete with one of those silver covers that he flourishes as if you just got fancy room service
Packs your lunch for you that day with a cute little note which you proceed to keep in your wallet for a long time
He relieves you of your Sibling job duties a few hours early and arranges for you to have a massage done by the Ministry’s massage therapist
He arranges Valentines karaoke for the ghouls and siblings, the setlist being rock’s greatest love ballads and also some Celine Dion mixed in
Bakes you a cake (or whatever your fave dessert is) and decorates it with pink heart sprinkles
His final gift of the day is flowers with some very nice jewelry…and also a new lingerie set. He wants to see you in the set wearing the new jewelry he got you, saying it’s a gift for him too and he wants to admire it
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Terzo
His penis. He gives you…his penis, wrapped in a bow. “Breakfast in bed, mm?” he’d say (don’t worry, he offers to go down on you too)
Okay, okay, he actually comes back with coffee, cigarettes, and Pop-Tarts
Has flowers sent to you while you’re both at work so you’ll think of him all day (so all your coworkers/the other Siblings see what an amazing boyfriend you have)
Encourages everyone to leave work early that day so “you can all go fuck each other!”
Orders sushi takeout (or whatever you want if you don’t like sushi but author happens to love it) and has made a whole setup of pillows and blankets on the floor for you to watch cute movies while you eat dinner and snacks
Gives you naughty conversation hearts and says you have to do whatever it tells you to…they’re instructions for bedding you later
Scatters rose petals all over the bedroom, lights candles so the room looks very romantic and promises to make love to you like never before
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Copia
You wake up to utter chaos - a burning smell from the kitchen and rats running all over the place. “Eh, it was supposed to be a surprise…we’ll get takeout.”
But you’ve already DoorDashed pancakes for the pair of you, because somehow you knew he’d be too stressed to handle everything
He’s genuinely very excited to celebrate Valentine’s Day so he can go all out to show you just how much he cares about you
He decorates his office and room the day before - all pinks, reds, and purples with hearts everywhere
He gifts everyone in the Ministry a cute little paper valentine, like the kind you used to pass out in elementary school
Says cheesy but sweet things all day, like asking you to be his valentine, making puns like “bee mine buzzzzzz,” etc.
Smothers you in hugs and kisses
Wants to watch rom coms with you before going to bed that night, complete with themed snacks
He bought you matching V-Day underwear
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Nihil
Gets you one of those generic heart shaped chocolate boxes from the drug store
He also leaves a very mushy, sentimental hallmark card on your nightstand
“Why do we need a special day? I love you everyday!”
He doesn’t arrange anything for the Ministry as a whole but he does make sure to do the bare minimum for his partner
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jay7543 · 8 months ago
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okay so I absolutely LOVED your king!Konig x reader! I was wondering if you could do a Mechanic Konig and male reader? So reader has absolutely no idea how to fix his car and he goes to Konig’s shop for help, it can be fluffy or smutty
I love your posts and I can’t wait for the next update!!
Your hot new mechanic, könig
M4m
Sfw
Thank you so much! I’m so happy you liked it, I feel like there needs to be more gay/ bi man stuff so I am happy to provide. It’s a bit shorter than my other stuff, but I might make a part 2 that has more spicy stuff, so let me know if you want that too
Feel free to make requests!!! Doesn’t have to be cod
You have had your car for a pretty long time, by all accounts it’s an absolute piece of shit, but you love it. Lately you’ve been having so many problems with it, every fucking light is on and you just don’t know at all how to fix it, and honestly, you don’t care that much either, but your friend told you about a new mechanic nearby, and apparently he’s hot. You decide to call him
Reader-“hello? I’d like to bring my car in”
You say hesitantly, really not wanting to spend the money but also not sure about this supposedly very hot guy
König-“Ja, sure, come in when you can”
He immediately hangs up the phone, not even asking your name, well, if he’s as good as you’ve been told then who cares. You drive to his shop, not far from your house. When you get there he’s already waiting outside wearing partly ripped jeans and a white, sweat soaked t-shirt, almost as if he’s trying to show off, you guess he doesn’t have any other customers. You park near him and get out.
Reader-“hey uh, I talked to you on the phone?”
He looks you up and down, taking in you and your average looking self. You do the same to him, yet he looks a lot better, his hands covered in dried oil, his shirt soaked in sweat, his bright blue eyes staring at you, you can even see his abs through his shirt.
König-“I know, so, what’s wrong with it”
Reader-“uh, well, I don’t know much about cars, every light is on though”
You say with a nervous smile. He keeps his blank look and sticks out his hand, assumably for your keys, you hand them to him. He opens your door and pops your hood, doing…well you have no idea, you assume he’s doing what he’s supposed to, you hear him yell
König-“Was zum Teufel! When was the last time you changed you oil, or changed the damn battery”
You look around, debating whether or not you should talk
Reader-“well…I guess a few years”
He peeks out from the hood and glares at you
Reader-“I can pay whatever you need, i-I just don’t wanna get a new one. I don’t know a lot but I really like this one you know”
You say quietly, getting a bit embarrassed and sentimental about your shit box car. His gaze softens and he nods
König-“well, it won’t be easy, nor cheap, but i understand, and I’ll get it done”
He closes the hood and walks over to you, only a few inches away, you blush a bit as you start to smell whatever cologne he has on mixed with his sweat, it smells oddly good to you.
König-“you know, you’re a very pretty man, I’m not surprised you don’t know much about cars”
He chuckles. You blush even more, he called you pretty!
Reader-“I uh…well I guess you’re right. And thanks for the compliment, you look nice too”
He smiles at your obvious nervousness.
König-“let me go get something for you”
He walks away and comes back a few minutes later, he hands you a set of keys to a nearby car, an average car, nothing special but a car nonetheless.
König-“since you clearly can’t drive yours, use one of mine, I do expect It back however”
Your mouth hangs slightly agape, he’s letting you borrow his car till yours is fixed? This has to mean he likes you.
Reader-“well I-can I get your number? So we can call and text about my car. I don’t wanna have to call your shop”
He smiles and exudes an aura of confidence, as if he was waiting for you to ask. He grabs a piece of paper out of his pocket and a pen he had to write his number. He he takes your hand and places the paper in yours, keeping it held in his
König-“you know, feel free to call me, even if it’s not about your car, I know more than just cars.”
He kisses your hand and leans in to whisper in your ear
König-“I also think I could please you. No?”
He smiles and pulls away, letting go of your hand. You’re so shocked that you can’t even come up with words to respond, you just nod and stumble over to the car he’s letting you borrow. You’re definitely gonna call him
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saturns7moon · 1 year ago
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{ ASTRO OBSERVATIONS 1 }
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.saturns7moon
i find familial synastry so interesting tbh. for example, i have such a karmic relationship with practically everyone in my family.
— my younger sister is an aquarius stellium with a leo moon whilst 4/6 of my big 6 is taurus and scorpio. we square each other and have heavy 12H and 4H synastry and we argue all the time, sometimes to the point we have to be pulled apart. my mother is literally earth dominant, not sure of her rising but she’s a taurus sun, capricorn moon and virgo stellium, and i’m water dominant and while that would be good, the absolute lack of water in my mothers chart makes her so emotionally disconnected and unavailable, which is shown in my chart as neptune in aquarius sits in my 4H, making me grow up not having an emotional connection with my mother, and with her moon conjunct my chiron, it is very apparent in our relationship.
— house placement is so important because my best friends brother is a sagittarius stellium but he’s a virgo rising, his stellium mainly in his 3H and 4H, so whilst he’s quite quiet at first he’s really talkative and intellectual the better you know him. he also loves his family a lot, and can be sentimental quite unexpectedly.
— i love looking at synastry so much, not just because it tells you about you and your person’s relationship, it tells you so so much about yourself, what your like and what themes in a person that attracts you. for example, i adore capricorn and gemini placements, like omg if i have a crush on someone, that placement is somewhere. i have a 9° capricorn venus in the 3H, the house with themes of communication, mental stimulation and learning. and i also have a 22° gemini juno in the 8H. juno is the asteroid that represents marriage, the type of person you'd want to spend the rest of your life with, and who you are in your partnership. with my juno being gemini (one of the signs ruled by mercury, planet of communication – mental stimulation) in the 8H (e.g. intimate agreements, possessions, things hidden from the light) anyone that reside in my 8H somehow in some way we share a deep connection, whether good or bad that has changed my life in some way. also since one of the themes of the 8H is possessions, i have shared either physical or emotional pieces of myself with these people, shining on the darkest most intimate parts of myself with them, whether by choice or not. for example, my best friend is both a gemini sun and mercury, my mother a gemini venus, my little sister a gemini moon, and recently i found out my crush is a capricorn moon and she’s a pisces rising, and my moon is in her 3H and my sun and rising are in her 8H (i use placidius).
— something i’ve noticed is that people with mutable mixed with cardinal placements within their big 6 love heavy feeling music, like rock for example. my best friend is a gemini sun and mercury and has an aries venus and cancer mars, and she told me she finds listening to rock music comforting when she’s about to go to bed. another friend of mine loves rihanna and she’s an aries moon and capricorn venus (whilst rihanna is an aries stellium lol).
— this is just a question from me, but to the people who have moon aspecting mercury (significantly or not), how do you feel about asmr? my moon inconjuncts my mercury and i listen to asmr almost all the time, even during moments i don’t even need to sleep. i’m very sensitive to noise i realise, so asmr is very calming for me.
— i resonate so fucking heavily with my moon persona chart. my natal moon and mars are exactly conjunct, and so both my moon and mars persona charts are identical. i’m a cap rising opposed to my (conjunct) cancer moon and mars, and when i tell you the way my eyes well up when i start to get mad? no cus it’s actually a set up. it seems like as if i’m blubbering on my words, when really i’m imagining the most violent life-changing way to end your life for pissing me off, especially cus i don’t get angry often (natal 7H taurus moon and mars), and it makes my body shake. lmao it was such a cool thing to realise.
— currently as i’m writing this, mercury is in sagittarius aka my mercury return, and i’ve been getting so many likes and attention for speaking on any type of social media platform i post on and it gives me so much anxiety 😭. i have a 1H scorpio sun square my 10H leo mc (saturn and lilith are there) and i hate hate hate being in the spotlight for too long. i’d genuinely rather be appreciated privately by people i love or just be acknowledged in public for a short amount of time. i hate hate hate being perceived lol. which is ironic cus i have this astrology blog, but at least i don’t have my face on here and i usually don’t post often haha.
— my venus persona chart is a capricorn stellium with a few aquarius placements as well, i’m genuinely not surprised that i have commitment issues ����. plus i have natal venus-saturn and my moon squares my saturn, so 🧍🏾‍♀️🚶🏾‍♀️.
— i saw someone say a while back that you resonate very deeply with artists who have placements in your 12H and personally i agree with that a lot. a lot of artists i absolutely adore have strong libra placements within their chart, like ariana grande and alina baraz for example, and i love their music so much. it hits me so deeply.
— i genuinely adore foreign languages and music. like so much? i have a 3H capricorn venus opposed to my cancer 9H, and i’ve noticed i genuinely love music from foreign places, like k-pop for example. i’ve been a fan since 2016(-ish?).
— my 2022 solar return asc was a scorpio asc, same as my natal. and last year the nodes were in my 1H-7H axis and the way i’ve learnt so so much about myself this year is crazy. very painful yet beautiful journey i’ve been on.
— also i just need validation from other fixed signs, specifically scorpios and taurus’s, did you find this year easygoing for you? i feel like it’s been quite stressful and all over the place. i’m grateful for the lessons i’ve learned this year, but i feel like whatever astrologer that said 2023 would be great for fixed signs were lying outta their asses 😭.
anyways, that’s it from me loves, thank u for reading my rambling c:
love, lola xo.
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ask-codeearasure · 13 days ago
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Dreamswap Design Critiques
Okay, I haven't read or even looked at Dreamswap in the SLIGHTEST however, Sarco has ranted to me about it, and then gave me the designs of Dream and Nightmare and…. I HAVE A COUPLE THOUGHTS… 
That is putting it lightly, I went on a near multi-hour typing spree about them, and then they dragged me into a VC just to hear me rant for many more hours and for whatever reason enjoyed every single second. (I’m pretty sure my friend is a sadist). This was all two months ago, by the way, but I can’t help but still think about this AU and all the bad history behind it.
So hy threw 6 designs at me. I have a couple of analyses and opinions to share based on my own history with character design. That being said, even though both I and Sarco absolutely despise Dreamswap and for many many many justified reasons, this is mainly about the designs of the six main characters, Dream, Nightmare, Ink, Cross, Blue, and Error. The designs for the side characters are bullshit as well, but I’d like to preserve what’s left of my sanity. I like to share what’s on my mind with you guys after all, so long as I can tolerate it.
Where we shall start is with the supposed “villain” of this story that I never read and don’t plan to, Dream.
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Looking at the initial “pre-incident” designs, before corruption/villain point, we see something completely odd. The presentation of both Dream and Nightmares’ clothes during this starting point makes them look like their AU takes place during the old western days. I can hear Bonanza’s theme playing in the background when I look at these. Focusing on Dream, we see a lot of pale yellows, golds, browns, blacks, and tans. If it weren't for the blacks, the colors would blend into each other, and far too much at that.
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The reason why OG Dream’s color palette, from the second design symbolizing his maturity, works is because the colors are simple and eye-catching. The mix of primarily yellow and black represents Dream’s goal of achieving emotional balance throughout the multiverse. If he was against this, his outfit would have stayed mostly yellow only. But no, the ratio of black and yellow is equal.
Dreamswap Dream looks well-too taken care of to be an orphan or “out of place” in his AU. If anything he probably wouldn't be too out of place in a stand-off at high noon against some random gunslinger from Longmire.
Also if he and Nightmare are not supposed to be siblings and guardianship is different in Dreamswap… why do they still have the metal circlets?
Has anyone ever asked that? Why are the circlets present? Why keep them?
In the original Dreamtale, Nim gave Dream and Nightmare those circlets, and it’s obvious that for them both, they hold great sentimental value and stand for their statuses as guardians to the Tree of Feelings.
With Dream’s circlet, however, it poses a picture-perfect resemblance to the golden filet Sun Wukong, The Monkey King, The Great Sage Equal To Heaven, had to wear throughout the vast majority of events in Journey To The West, which was perhaps either the first or one of the oldest sources of the golden filet’s debut in popular fiction. 
Now there is always a chance Joku incorporated the golden filet into Dream’s design just because it looked cool, and I agree with that sentiment. But walk with me to this pier that the Chinese golden filet does hold great symbolism that may or may not add to Dream’s character for you. I swear this is important to my rant.
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In Journey To The West, Sun Wukong is tricked into wearing this golden filet by Guan Yin, the Chinese Goddess of Mercy, and Tripitaka, the monk Sun Wukong must accompany as one of his disciples as they head into India from China to retrieve scriptures important to Buddhist enlightenment. However, Sun Wukong is established to have a nasty temper and a bad habit of resorting to extreme violence and murder, which is why the golden filet has a spell on it. Only Tripitaka and Guan Yin know the words to set off said spell (at least at this time), and when said phrases are recited, the golden filet constricts Sun Wukong’s skull until the pain paralyzes him, thus stopping him from committing the violence and murder he was initially trapped under a mountain for 500 years before in the first place. The golden filet serves as a source of punishment for Sun Wukong, it gives him a reason to learn self-restraint and control, it quite literally forces him to if he wants the freedom and enlightenment he’s working for. It ultimately is a big factor in what makes him a better person by the end of the journey.
Yeah, I know, pretty wild stuff. Chinese mythology was off the shits back in the day and Journey To The West is also the origin of just about all common tropes in modern fiction today, including that golden filet.
How this applies to Dream is the golden filet on his design may imply the exact opposite. Whereas the golden filet actively disciplined Sun Wukong, ultimately teaching him the discipline of character, Dream has way too much discipline. So much discipline, so much self-control and self-restraint from his own personal wants and needs, that he hardly gets to enjoy his own life. And this quality of character in Dream is necessary given his conflict with Nightmare and the balance of the multiverse being in direct tandem with which of them lives or dies.
Everyone benefits from Dream’s excess of self-discipline, but Dream actively suffers on the inside with that trait being one of those adding factors. So to the people who insist canon Dream has no character flaws at all, here’s a big one for you served on a silver spoon. Enjoy!
Back to Dreamswap, if Dream and Nightmare are not siblings, are not treated as siblings, and are just two random boys who met each other from the same AU, why do they have the circlets at all? There is no Nim in the narrative to hand them off, so why do they have them? Where did they get them? What the fuck do they represent? The guardianship the creator clearly didn’t care enough about to think through?
I know a part of why Dreamswap was created was to spite Jokublog on the behalf of petty drama, most of which was caused by a language barrier, and so the creator didn't bother to think about the designs or the story influencing those designs through enough. The entire story, mainly what became of the Dreamtale brothers, was created to bastardize the original. It was all a statement, yet people pretend it was all initially created for “fun” as a little sandbox concept they could do whatever the fuck they wanted with.
And to an extent… yeah, sure, the latter is true now, but that wasn’t its purpose at the beginning.
I’m getting off track.
Let's be clear with something, crowns/filets symbolize royalty, upper class, and if anything else, power and authority. When I first saw these designs I got two contradicting messages from them: Royalty, and Old Western. These things can exist at the same time depending on the creative work, and after all, England always had royalty, but the Old Western theme was set in America. This is why I have a problem with it.
Then there is the fact that both Dream and Nightmare have matching outfits. Not exactly 1:1, but they are very eerily similar, almost as though they both go to the same school and have to wear a uniform.
Gold and Silver often give the image of royalty and purity and this does the same for the both of them. They look far too alike to be two random kids who just so happened to be adopted under the same roof.
They look far too alike to NOT be siblings.
They look far too alike to NOT be just made from spite and spite alone.
Now to not be too mean towards these designs, for a character who is going to inevitably be a villain or at least have an antagonistic role that challenges the protagonist in some important way, having Dream’s outfit be buttoned up is a good way to symbolize a “closed off” nature. A way to show he is secluded socially and personality-wise, hiding his motives and keeping his cards close to his chest.
But that is the only good thing I can say about the design… the first design.
Now for the full villain design…
Oh god, the fucking villain design.
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This is where that whole “Old Western” out of place thing comes into play. That jacket he is wearing is not something that would be from an old western AU and it clashes with everything else.
To get to the point, as someone who tends to overdesign the HELL out of her characters, this character is overdesigned. Again, the colors of the jacket blend together horribly, and blend into his wings horrendously to the point that it's just a yellow mass. And even then the clothing under the jacket looks to be the same one from prior to the corruption so the argument still applies, but now the message of being a sign of him being “closed off” now is null and void.
He looks far too heroic to be a villain!
You can make the argument that he is convinced he is a hero, but that argument falls dead on the vine when you can't read the character as the villain he is supposed to be.
Villain characters are supposed to fully communicate that they are villains. Plain and simple. Take for instance, Darth Vader from the Star Wars franchise.
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He dresses in all black, black being an EXTREMELY COMMON way to communicate that someone is a villain, the same goes for red, hence why he is always depicted having a red lightsaber.
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Another villain is Veigo from League of Legends. Another way that villains are communicated is via sex appeal. Veigo has no shirt on, a black leather jacket, black leather pants, black armor pieces, and has a few pale colors to contrast that aside from this toxic yet ethereal teal/green which is a common color to symbolize the Shadow Isles. To help show off his tragic “obsessed lover” aspect and having a “missing piece” (his wife that he is still obsessing over despite being dead for hundreds of years already) he literally has a black hole in his chest. Very few colors, very few details, A FUCKTON COMMUNICATED.
But if that is too simple, let me get another villain from League of Legends because that is my go-to and has riddled my every waking moment with nuclear brainworms from Mars. Send help.
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Bel’Veth. What to say other than WOW. Like holy shit. Bel’Veth has design in everything from the moment she floated into the scene in the cinematic she first appears in. Her voice emanates from her so her animation literally cannot lip sync because she is not human, but mimics them. She waddles as she floats to mimic walking, again she isn't human rather mimicking humans, AND THEN THERE IS FACT THAT SHE HAS A FALSE FACE. OH MY GOD.
Okay geeking out aside, design goes far further than just outfits, it goes into how they move and hold themselves. How much posing can tell you about a character. If you look at the physical design you can completely remove the false head from Bel’Veth and you'd see her actual face and multiple eyes, literally revealing to you the actual monster you are looking at. The pale grays and purples on her design are the very colors that have always signified the Void and its corruption.
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I know it's not fair to compare a couple of random artists to a multi-billion dollar company, however, it is best to learn where you can. We all take inspiration from other forms of media and that inspiration can come through in one's own work and we all learn design by looking at the creative properties of the people around us.
To give the best example I have that gives away what Dreamswap Dream is trying to communicate, we must look no further than Kayle from League of Legends.
Now Kayle’s design isn't great, but there is something that it does do better than anything else… in its base form.
Impersonality.
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Kayle (pictured on the right), via covering her face, disposes of any personality, any true compassion she can communicate with the viewer of her sense of humanity. Her helmet does so much to communicate that. The fact that she takes it off when she reaches her ultimate form ruins the design completely.
If we were to give impersonality to Dream to show his (which is oddly enough a similar thing to Kayle) impersonal completely “godly” justice shtick some actual fucking leverage. We'd actually get a “Oh, this guy is someone who took justice way too seriously and way too far, it’s become an addicting vengeance” vibe.
But we don't get that.
We cannot get that.
All we get is weird angel vibes from Dreamswap Dream because the creators didn't think his design through.
Nightmare.
To show that I'm standing unbiased here I'm going to criticize his original design. Yes, the OG. Specifically his corrupted design.
His corrupted design is literally just OG Sans… who looks like he got pushed to a vat of black paint. End of story. I know it has a narrative purpose to be this simple, but I really want to call it lazy. So I will. It's lazy.
That is what we're calling corruption now? Huh. Okay.
Now to Dreamswap Nightmare’s starting design, pictured above.
It has the very same complaints as Dreamswap Dream’s, however it doesn't have the color palette complaint because it's very different from Dream’s. The silver compliments the blue neckerchief very nicely. But that is the only compliment I can give.
His hero design, however…. (this is only one of them, I know)
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Oh, we have a lot of problems because… it's trying way too hard to be canon Dream. It really is. Like just canon Dream but with the color purple overlayed on top of it.
Dream’s Cape was literally the fucking sun flag that his brother gave him to shield him from the rain. That flag/cape/now hood has great sentimental purpose to canon Dream as a character because that is the last remnant he carries of his brother.
So giving Dreamswap Nightmare a cape serves no purpose to the character and thus makes absolutely no sense. Is he trying to hide his identity? Can he feel cold? Is that why he has the cape? Is it supposed to symbolize a wanderer, since that’s what Dreamswap Nightmare is? If so, there are so many different and better ways of doing that so it would actually make him look far more interesting and compelling, and again with the circlets. Why?
Plus the stave, baton, or otherwise unexplained staff thing. What kind of weapon is that? Seriously? Is his fighting style even explored or is that there just to be there? Again, since this guy is supposed to serve as some kind of opposite counterpart to the original Dream, at least canon Dream as reasons for having the weapons he does. Dreamswap Nightmare doesn’t. Every theme put into him, if there even are themes to name, looks like they were just slapped together with no understanding of what the designer really wanted. It’s way too obvious to Sarco and I that Onebizzarekai did not understand any of the themes that made Dreamtale stick out as an AU, and that is part of the active reasons why Dreamswap ended up sucking this much.
If you want an interesting moon weapon, just look at the Lunari from League of Legends’ lore. Seriously. Get some actual fucking ideas. Inject some inspiration into your veins. Please.
—--
Ink…
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Okay I'm not AS upset with this design, they actually look like they travel around buuuuuuuuuuut–
What the fuck is behind him?
What is that?
Is it a cape attached to his jacket? Why?
Just… why?
Also the entire point of his scarf was to help with his memory issues, it was to serve as a convenient way for him to take notes on important things he knows he’s going to forget, and since he’s always wearing that scarf, he has free access to those notes whenever he needs them. Does this version of Ink not have any memory problems? I ask that because instead of a scarf, he has a bandana around his neck, which if he does have comical memory loss, is there something else he uses to set reminders?
Does he still have to take his paints to, y’know, live? I ask because he doesn't look like he has his paint vials with him, instead he has a belt of bullets or bullet-looking things….
I see they were trying to make this version of Ink look “badass” but take it from me, the bitch that plays League of fucking Legends, it’s not having a gun that makes a character cool. It’s not being an asshole that makes a character cool either, it’s all the things that influence why they have that behavior that gives them the depth that makes them cool. I mean I’m a fan of Ekko from League of Legends and Arcane. He doesn’t have any of the traits that I just described and he is the most badass character ever written to me, I’ll fight you on that.
Anyways, unless Dreamswap Ink fucking eats bullets, I don’t know what other conclusion I could draw here. I genuinely cannot tell if that’s a sash of bullets or paints sorted in containers that look like them.
Cross.
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The original scar on OG Cross’ face was given to him by XChara and XFrisk as a way to force him to remember the other timelines. It is literally a symbol of his trauma and the abuse he suffered. He is also a variation of Underswap!Sans by the way. His entire AU’s happiness and designs were inspired by Underswap. He is a Swap!Sans already. Changing his design and scar placement was fucking pointless and says nothing different aside from “I just wanted to make this character look different in the cheapest way despite my deep understanding of the original version of Jakei’s character.”
But again it shows that these designs are not thought through; they were made out of hatred or laziness on behalf of the original creators who made all these characters in the first place.
Error.
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Oh, where to fucking begin…
Where to fucking begin….
1. What the fuck is that on his back? Are they supposed to be spider legs? Jellyfish tentacles? If they are either – why? Is it because Error is often compared to spiders and jellyfish? I am doubtful that that is the reason why his design looks like this.
2. What the fuck is with the hood? Why?? Like… okay I gotta dissect this.
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Error's Lucidia redesign by CrayonQueen actively shows his strings via the stitches on the sleeves and pants, and the bagginess showing that he is a very active character, a way of communicating movement. This also makes him an easy character to draw for the creator allowing them a sense of ease. His scarf is a way to communicate movement as well, allowing it to flap about and show direction for when they draw him in comics.
These choices also show the fact that he is a very VERY simple person. He is someone who would rather lay down at home, watch Undernovela, and stuff his face with chocolate more than anything else, aside from destroying everything he can’t stand.
But with the design by Onebizarrekai, we don’t get any of that aside from the spider legs as something that shows his strings… but he isn’t a spider monster and spiders have exoskeletons, so he can’t be a “spider-skeleton” in that way, and perhaps not a hybrid either, and I don’t think Onebizarrekai was going for a Spiderman-type character for Dreamswap Error anyway.
If you want to show off the strings more, you can always have a webbing design on the sleeves or maybe have strings all over him, or have his outfit be more stitched up. Make it look like he doesn’t care that much about his own clothes, that he rips them to shreds and stitches them back together out of necessity. Maybe he has limited access to clothing and that is why he fixes them repeatedly.
To use an example… I will use my own “version of Error”, Digital Klezmer.
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Digital Klezmer is overdesigned – but the separate colors allow him to not have the same blending problem that Dreamswap Dream has. I have his AU set in the ROARING TWENTIES (that’s the 1920s in New York). His AU is set in a completely different era. We’re talking swing music, movies being called “Flicker shows” and every woman is either called “Dame”, “Doll”, or even on occasion a “tomato”. His world is ruled by slang and the stereotypical New Yorker accent.
His cape of fur has his hood seamlessly blended into it, and the cape itself has significance, that being his Papyrus was so overprotective of him that the jacket was specifically made for him and the cape is crafted from fur so thick that if he were to fall over, he wouldn’t turn to dust on impact. That fur would cushion the fall and negate all damage. His Papyrus was that fucking paranoid over his brother’s safety and health.
His voice, as I had described in the story that Sarco and I are writing, his voice sounds like it’s coming from an ancient radio – thus showing how ingrained he is to his own culture and his AU’s era. This is a way to show how much of his background influences who he is as a person and what he does.
I had him play the piano instead of the trumpet, showing a subtle oddity in comparison to other Sanses. The era of where he is from is shown with how practical he dresses aside from the jacket which is sentimental to him. The vest showing class and the turtleneck showing his ties to the cold of Snowedin (yes, that is how it’s spelled in The Outer Realms universes).
His shorts show his ties as a “Sans”, but his practical shoes show that he’s a bit more athletic and isn’t as lazy as the average Sans.
The fur on the hood is also to give a bit of a lion-like feel to him, and enhance his silhouette a bit in comparison to other Sanses. It makes him appear much bigger than he actually is, indicating what he might think of himself and the influence he has on The Outer Realms, and then the Inner Circle of the multiverse.
All of these differences are nothing compared to his personality as a gambler and the way he uses his magic.
Playing poker with this man is like placing a bet on a dying horse, you are gonna lose. Every time. He loves gambling and even actively carries a deck of cards wherever he goes.
His magic is used COMPLETELY DIFFERENTLY than any other Error presented. I had him be someone who plans ahead, and has his team – yes HIS team. He doesn’t work for The Outer Realms’ Nightmare, that Nightmare works FOR HIM – go out as a distraction so he can hack into other universes (specifically negative ones) so he can set them to self-destruct. He weaves his teal strings into ribbons that turn into spears that can do damage based on the tension he gives them. He can control them without moving. He also uses his strings to become claws. And he can even destabilize himself to negate any attack instead of dodging, or even just turn into a string of code to increase his speed. He is active and takes advantage of his new HP but still values his own safety, hence why he is not afraid of getting into fights.
Digital Klezmer takes full use of his abilities and gets quite creative with them, unlike the original Error, who fucks himself over by making each job of his harder for himself.
But he also has an actual weapon. Its story is very important in the future, so I won't reveal its significance here. I’m a total cunt, but I’m not cruel.
But to show how proud I am, I will give you one final tidbit of Klezmer’s design that I am way too proud of. His left eyelight. It’s an “x” with two rings around it. It signifies his focus and endless stubbornness. I thought this shit out FAR MORE than anyone realizes – Sarco legit had to stop me from going on because I nearly gave spoilers. This is why I have an editor breathing over my shoulder, thank you Sarco, I love you. I’d legit fight a bear for you.
This is all to say that I’d LOVE to see more designs and takes on other AUs, I’d LOVE IT. I really would… But these designs are not it, and Error’s Dreamswap design is just… not good at all. It’s so boring, it’s bland in the worst way possible. The only interesting things are the spider legs and they do NOTHING for the character. They add nothing to him.
Swap!Sans, or what’s called Swap!Sans or Blue. The bane of Sarco’s existence, and I see why (Ve fucking HATES this guy more than anything fucking hell).
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No armor, a shit-eating grin, absolutely no depth to be perceived other than what I’ve already been told. Out of all the designs I have been sent, though, Blue is the only one out of them that looks a little happy, not an angry two year old wishing they could break the camera their overbearing mother stuck in front of their face.
Why is there no armor? Isn’t this guy supposed to be an enthusiastic practicing Royal Guard? Of course not, cause Onebizarrekai seems to have had an addiction to assholes with a base-level characterization and in application to every character at the time they were making Dreamswap.
The entire idea of Underswap in general is that the roles of many main characters were swapped, mostly in occupation but some partial trades in personality. Asgore is the one who lives in the Ruins, Toriel takes her place as Queen and rules over the Underground, Papyrus takes up the simple guard post, and SANS IS IN THE ROYAL GUARD TRAINING UNDER ALPHYS WHO IS THE CAPTIAN OF THE ROYAL FUCKING GUARD.
Deep breath…
There is absolutely nothing in this design that references any of this information, and if Blue is supposed to be extensively different from the original Swap!Sans, which I assume he is, why the shitty casual wear? He’s definitely not an average Joe, I can tell by the glitch and the ERROR in his left eyesocket, but how he got that isn’t made evident aside from maybe, maybe he got stuck in the Anti-Void at some point. Did he have an encounter with Error or did he end up there via a different source?
What the fuck is that on his shoulders??? Is that supposed to be a fucking poncho. If it is, it’s a BAD ONE. Ponchos are supposed to go down your waist, not stay only covering your shoulders. They are supposed to cover your torso.
Ponchos are a wonderful way to show that a character is someone who travels a lot, they give a very nice silhouette, they also give warmth because that is another thing they do, along with keeping the arms from getting sunburn should your character be in a desert. However, it’s made null in this case because of how… insignificant it is. It’s there, but why? Is it supposed to be part of the cape? I’d assume that if it weren’t for the scarf, and the thing on his shoulders being a completely different color from the thing going down his back so that must mean the thing going down his back is actually a part of his scarf. SO THEN WHAT FUCK IS ON HIS SHOULDERS??? If it’s not an unfinished poncho, I can’t grasp what the fuck else it could be.
That’s… about all I have for Dreamswap Blue. 
Fuck, I don’t like any of these designs. They add nothing to whatever vision Onebizarrekai had for these characters, only take away what made the original versions so interesting in the first place, and it’s not like I can efficiently judge these designs on what their Dreamswap counterparts were going to be, because Dreamswap doesn’t have a concrete story or character work, which makes sense considering all the themes it has fucked up. I took one look at their pinned post and found this.
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Drawing takes effort and I know it takes a long time to learn how to draw, and these guys have some talent. I will always give props where it is due. I’m pretty sure all these designs were made back in 2016-2018 too, so they’ve been around for at least 6 years now. I have no doubts Onebizarrekai got better over time.
HOWEVER…
When it comes to character design, the Undertale fandom has problems and as a whole needs to take a step back, take a deep breath and start actually putting in some fucking effort. Like come on guys… and I’m not addressing the people still learning how to draw.
I don’t like saying this but… you all are getting lazy. Are you not thinking about your world design, the lore. ANYTHING, REALLY? By no means is anyone a professional concept artist here and I am not asking for that, if that helps.
I understand, a lot of you are just trying to have fun and maybe I’m the weird one for asking for more, but I actually like thinking about the worlds my characters inhabit, the way their stories reflect in their designs. It’s something that I personally love to do, and no doubt others reading this do too. And a lot of the designs from the fandom don’t really reflect this; those that do reflect, their stories are a handful at most and even then, some of them are only reflective of the designs and don’t show the story they’re supposed to have.
Take Outertale for instance. It’s 100% space aesthetic, but 0 story. The designs themselves make them look like they’re supposed to be attending a space themed party. I got so upset with it not having pushed the designs far enough and having no story I made Outerswap – again no spoilers– I SEE THE GUN, SARCO. STOP. RELEASE ME.
What I am saying is, I want you all to do better because I KNOW you can do better. This fandom has a fuckton of talent behind it but does NOTHING with it. Most AUs I’ve seen are like Dreamswap here, a rehashing of projects that already exist and doing nothing new or interesting with them, and that’s not inspiring. It’s just a pattern.
For those of you still learning, just try. I’m not expecting instant improvement. I’m saying TRY. Put in the effort. We don’t grow as artists and storytellers if we don’t TRY. If you need inspiration, explore other things, especially elements you aren’t familiar with. Look at other people’s artworks, look at videos critiquing character design like TBSkyen – my personal favorite. If you are insecure about storytelling, read more fanfiction, read more books, read more poetry. READ. There is always something you can take inspiration from for your own work and it doesn’t have to be Undertale only. Use as many sources as you like, there is no limit to what you can use at your disposal. GO FUCKIN NUTS, MATE!
There is always room to grow. And that is what shows the most in artwork of all kinds, be it drawing or writing, and what it takes to do that is to get out of your bubble more often. 
Sarco interacts with and follows people who are already doing this, but there’s nothing wrong with more, more, more!!
Anyways, that’s my critique. Have fun, go nuts. You only ever have one spark of madness, don’t lose it.
…trying to force a nice concluding sentence when I’ve been critical this whole time is a tone shift I am not okay with, holy shit. Get away from me. Get out. Run.
– Ouija, edited by Sarco
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a-supernatural-writer · 1 year ago
Text
Rusted Orange Leaves
Poly Lost Boys x gender neutral reader
It's been awhile! I am so sorry for being gone so long. Ever since graduating life has been sort of a roller coaster. Working full time along with trying to figure out student loans has been tough.
I wanted to start writing again and get back into The Lost Boys with a bit of a self indulgent fic. For context I recently lost my Nana (grandmother) a couple weeks ago and its been tough to say the very least. She was not only my grandmother but she was another mother to me and in this fic there is a lot of things that are actual things that my Nana and I would do together. Not only that but this is also a fic for anyone who might've lost there own grandmother or even a grandparent in general who you had a very close connection with.
Happy fall to all of you and I am very excited to write for one of my favorite seasons of the year. Get ready for some spooky, Halloween fun and in general fall themed fluff.
Word Count: 1,840
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The smell of pumpkin and cinnamon filled David’s noise as he walked into a place that he called a second home. Music that he remembered coming out during the time of the 1910’s and 20’s played at a reasonable volume. Being loud enough for anyone to enjoy but just low enough that people could talk comfortably to each other without raising their voice. 
He smiled softly as he walked deeper into the house and caught sight of you doing your thing around the kitchen. 
You were making your grandmother’s infamous great pumpkin cookies that she made every year around the fall holidays. You smiled a little though that smile didn’t quite reach your eyes as you mixed in the chocolate morsels that went in the cookies. 
But now these cookies were to be made by you and other members of your family since your grandmother unfortunately passed away not even a month ago in September, just before the leaves started to turn. 
A part of you was sentimental; making her baked goods and other recipes she taught you ever since you were little. You and your mother were really the only two who she taught her recipes to, leaving it to the both of you to teach the rest of the family. 
You had her cookies on your list along with her pumpkin and apple pie and the traditional fall soups she made from scratch. You also had some of your own recipes you’ve been wanting to make. 
With it being the beginning of October, the leaves turning their beautiful vibrant colors, you turned on the music that your grandparents played and had been going at it in the kitchen since the early hours of the morning. 
You were so engrossed in your activity that you didn’t notice your boyfriend David walk into your home. You had given him a key a while ago, turning your home into his home as well… along with your other three boyfriends; Dwayne, Marko and Paul. 
David had gotten there before any of the boys could. He knew that you were dealing with your grief in your own way. You had been having your days where certain sounds, images and even scents sent you into a crying mess. Hell, even before your grandmother passed away, you got so upset because a candle you bought smelt like her. 
You wanted to bask in her scent forever. Her smell gave you comfort and it scared you that you could never live in it again so you haven’t even lit it since her passing. Afraid to lose it and never smell it again. 
David knew that your grandparents weren’t just that, they were another set of parents; a mother and father to you. David knew how much your grandmother loved you. He and the boys got to spend some time with her and she talked about you so much and always wanted to make sure that you were taken care of. You were her first grandchild and she loved you like you were her own. 
Your grandmother even had them tear up, making them promise her that they would love you and make sure that you would always be happy and live your life. And they promised that. 
You eyed the amount of batter in your mixing bowl, finally noticing David when he walked into the kitchen, “Hey.” You said quietly, not fully trusting your feelings in that moment. You wanted to cry, but at the same time, you were feeling the most comfortable since her passing. 
David smiled, wrapping an arm around your waist and placing a soft kiss on your temple, “Hey. I can see you’ve been busy.” 
You nodded, leaning into him, “I made some apple turnovers for the first time. I think they came out really good. I have another batch in the oven and pumpkin soup is simmering on the stove… think it’s too much?” 
David shook his head, “Nope. I think it’s perfect. Do you need any help?” David didn’t think it was too much. If anything with how much the four of them loved your food, it could never be enough. And who was he to stop you from cooking and baking, this was your way of coping, he didn’t want to stop you from healing. 
You felt warm and fuzzy when he offered to help. Cooking with David was always wonderful. It surprised you just how much he enjoyed doing the activity with you. It warmed your heart even more at the idea that you were gonna teach him your grandmother’s recipes. 
“Yeah, I can teach you her pumpkin pie and I wanted to make her chicken pot pie to go with the soup.” You could help but get excited as you explained what you wanted to make. 
David just smiled, taking off his coat and gloves, grabbing a basic brown waist apron that was hanging on a hook in your kitchen, matching your own. You got one for him after he complained a little by getting flour and food particles on his pants one night. 
He tied it around his waist and grabbed the kitchenware he needed and the ingredients that he needed. He followed your instructions as you did your own thing, chopping whatever vegetables and poultry needed for the chicken pot pie. 
Of course, during the longest part of cooking, prep work, did the others file into your home. 
Paul came in smiling at the scene before him. He never in his life thought he would see David doing such a domestic thing in his life, but then again, he didn’t think that for himself either. “Do we have to kiss the cooks?” Paul teased before giving you a kiss on the lips, tasting pumpkin and chocolate on your tongue as he gave you a stomach fluttering deep kiss that held nothing but love with no lust behind it. Just pure love. 
David rolled his eyes when Paul gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek to tease the bleach blonde. “Smells great in here.” 
Paul honestly loved it when the home smelled like this. Your home for him was a place of comfort. A place for him to unwind and just relax. That’s what made you very similar to your grandmother. Both of you made your homes feel like a home. 
He always thought your grandmother was the definition of a grandmother. A woman with a heart of gold and a pure soul. Always making sure everyone was taken care of. The day she passed was a sad one. 
He was frozen in fear the moment the news settled in for you. He had never seen someone feel so much pain that wasn’t physical. He’d seen you sob your heart out before. But seeing your face turn into anguish and cry out so loudly and so heart broken, truly shook him to his core. 
Since then he’s been treating you much more softly. It wasn’t per your request, but something in him changed and he wanted to show you just how much he cherished you. It’s not like he didn’t already, he just had a much more lustful and hornier way of going about it. 
Marko was next to walk in, carrying a small brown bag in his hand and smiled once he saw you spreading out the cookie batter on the pan, “Are those the pumpkin cookies you were talking about?” 
Marko softly grabbed your chin and placed a short kiss on each of your cheeks before placing one on your lips. 
You giggled as Marko gently nipped at your lip, “Yes. I’m gonna bake them once the rest of the apple turnovers are done… what did you get?” 
Marko smiled as he carefully pulled out two tea cups with saucers attached to them. One design to be like fall colored leaves and the other in the shape of a pumpkin with leaves. You cooed at the teacups, wanting to hold them but didn’t want to dirty them with the batter on your hands. 
“Oh, Marko. They’re so cute.” You cooed softly. Marko felt his chest swell with pride as he got you a gift that made your eyes sparkle. And he knew that tone in your voice. You only talk that way when you truly love something. 
“I’ll go put them with the rest of your collection.” He took the teacups and placed them in a wooden cupboard with glass that you used as a display case for your teacups that you pulled out in rotation to use. You had an addition to mugs and teacups and you had an ever growing collection that weren’t just sitting on a shelf but were used for different times throughout the year. 
Marko grinned to himself. He had been trying his best to make you smile recently. Little gifts and outings have been his way to do just that. Even though you’ve told him multiple times that he didn’t need to buy you any gifts, he wanted to. He loved seeing your eyes shine with happiness and he wanted to treat you. You’ve been going through your emotions and even your thoughts for the most part alone. 
You didn’t want to talk to your family much about how you were feeling, afraid of judgment on some weird level. You were afraid that your family wasn’t going to understand how you felt and the way you were going through your grieving process. 
After placing the teacups in the case, he took one of the apple turnovers you already made and took a bite of it, groaning at how good they were. “These are banging.” He comments. Paul joined in and grabbed one of his own, enjoying the freshly baked dessert. 
Dwayne was the last to walk in. Seeing you doing something that you love and glowing, his heart, if it could, would’ve fluttered. Without a word, Dwayne came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and leaned down placing a kiss on your forehead. “You’re not pushing yourself, are you?”
You shook your head, done with placing the batter on the pans, “No. I’ve been taking breaks here and there throughout the day.” 
Dwayne hummed, squeezing your waist a little, “Good.” 
He didn’t want you overworking yourself too much, even if it was doing something you loved. Sometimes, Dwayne would just make sure that you took time to rest and relax. He knew how hard the past couple weeks have been for you. If the nights of you crying in his arms didn’t tip him off, then you being extra clinging to them lately did. 
You moved to go wash your hands, Dwayne still having a grip on you and moving with you, not wanting to let go yet.
You chuckled, and after you dried off your hands, you reached up and tangled your fingers through his hair. Feeling the utmost content in this moment. 
Out of all the days that have gone by in the past couple weeks, for once you felt at ease.
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