#they always end up on the same side because they have to be.

[yanderenightmare]

Can you write more for naoya zenin? Your writting is soo good omg, i was thinking about ex husband naoya

Naoya Zenin

♡ TW: toxic relationship, toxic family, arranged marriage, obsessiveness, possessiveness, denied divorce, abuse, kidnapping

♡ FEM reader

Ex-husband Naoya, who refuses to sign the papers as there’s no such thing as divorce in the Zenin clan—who says it’s shameful and that you should know better than to think you can just walk away from him just like that.

Ex-husband Naoya, who is very clear about it—how if you leave, it will be with nothing to your name—nothing but the clothes on your back, and barely even that—because everything you have is owned by him—and the only reason he’s ever been willing to share it is because you’ve paid for it in his bed.

Ex-husband Naoya, who can’t believe it when you leave him anyway—who’s certain he’s coming home to a dutiful wife, all silly ideas put to rest, sweetly apologetic for ever having raised the thought—but instead comes home to a quiet, cold, and empty house—divorce papers the only trace you’ve left behind.

Ex-husband Naoya, who immediately has the Zenin clan shun your clan and makes sure all other clans do the same, completely cutting you off—telling your clan leaders that until they deliver on their side of their alliance and have you return to your rightful place, their clan is to be held in contempt.

Your family begs you to go back to him, to stop this rebellion you’re so childishly insisting on. Your father even commands you, but you’re done taking orders from men—and their brainwashed wives. You don’t owe them anything—they’re the ones who sold you off to that misogynistic madman in the first place. Serves them right to suffer the way you have.

And so, you go off on your own. 

But with his resources, ex-husband Naoya’s always able to find you—and make your life hell. Any job you manage to get fires you only a few weeks later for reasons unknown—encouraged by a silent donation—and realtors will suddenly tell you that the apartment you’ve been interested in is off the market.

Ex-husband Naoya, who comes to collect you from the woman’s shelter you’ve taken refuge at, fed-up and beyond ready to put an end to whatever it is you think you’re up to.

“I don’t have any more time for this nonsense of yours,” he says— patronizing tone making him look ugly and nothing like the great man he thinks he is. “You’re out of money, and you’re out of places to run. Come with me now, and I will still allow you a gracious return.” 

Ex-husband Naoya, who really must be the most entitled man in the world.

“Make me waste any more time, and I’ll—”

“Fuck your gracious return,” you cut him off, continuing with a sneer, “Only way I’m going anywhere with you is kicking and screaming. Now get the fuck out before I call security and have you arrested.”

Ex-husband Naoya, who looks at you as if you’ve gone mad, then proceeds to feel driven insane himself—laughing at your threat like it was all a really funny joke.

“I’ve been lenient enough with you, humoring this little rebellion of yours, allowing you to come home on your own,” he says, his voice whispy with breath, just shy of unhinged—then dead and cold come his next words, “But I see now… I’ve been too indulgent.” 

Ex-husband Naoya, who meant it when he said he was done playing games.

Ex-husband Naoya, who doesn’t have an issue with your kicking and screaming.

♡ NAOYA ZENIN masterlist ♡ JUJUTSU KAISEN masterlist

[spatialwave]

Jayce Talis as a Husband & Father | Headcanons

➸ ask: "hiii i was wondering if you could do post s2 arcane headcanons for Jayce?? like jayce x wife!reader that have a newborn baby??" ➸ pairing: jayce talis x wife!reader ➸ word count: 923 words ➸ tags: mdni! sfw, fluff, comfort, mentions of jayce’s trauma, pregnancy, headcanons, childbirth, parenthood, canon-divergent ending. ➸ notes: i went really poetic with this idk why. also this definitely heightened my already terrible baby fever……. please for the love of god send me more asks about girldad jayce, i am begging you. i love writing these.

When you met Jayce Talis, you fell madly in love with him almost instantly—as did he with you. Within the first six months of your relationship, he proposed to you with a ring that he’d smithed himself, adorned with a hextech gemstone that sparkled unlike anything you’d ever seen. Of course, you said yes… and moved in within that same week.

Living with Jayce Talis meant dealing with the aftershocks of what he’d gone through during his time in the arcane and subsequent war. With a permanently injured leg and mental wounds that left him cursed by night terrors, you were they by his side to help him overcome his past. You were the rock he hadn’t known he needed, the one who encouraged him to keep fixing what he’d broken (and not without his partner, Viktor.)

Although he’d gone through hell and back, he found joy and happiness in you again. No longer was he filled with anger and guilt for allowing his naivety to take control of what was right—all Jayce wanted was to be happy. With you. 

When you found out you were pregnant, Jayce was over the moon, excited and horribly nervous. He constantly worried whether or not he’d be a good father, and the absence of his own in his life made him uncertain. He would spend countless evenings with his mother, asking her hundreds of questions about parenthood, which either made it better or worse depending on what he wanted to know.

However, the worry washed away when he held his little girl in his arms—weighing shy of six pounds and so tiny in his arms. It was a beautiful sight, a rugged man with messy hair, scarred arms, and calloused hands holding the love of his life.

Your daughter brings out a side of Jayce that Viktor told you is reminiscent of his life when they first met all those years ago: gentle, curious, nervous and much too excited. 

Jayce is messy and clumsy in his parenting, learning as he goes, but he is so dedicated. He’s used to being covered in stains but no longer in oil and soot from his work. Now it’s spit-up and dried milk… among other things. And to you, he’s never looked sexier than when he’s a mess.

Even though he’s still a councillor and working with Viktor on restabilizing hextech, he makes time for his family. The days of late-night tinkering in the lab or long council meetings are in the past because there is nothing more important to him than you two.

He is a very overprotective dad, constantly worrying about the little things and often getting sleepless nights because he checks on her one too many times to make sure sleeping soundly in her crib. He baby-proofs your home with everything he can make—doorstops, locks for the cabinets and removing any of his work from his home to the lab so there are no accidents. It’s cute, but considering that your daughter is shy of two months old, the baby-proofing tends to get in the way, but you let him. ‘Father knows best’ is a term he coins and uses, much to your annoyance.

Jayce always splits the tasks of parenting between you two but is never opposed to taking on more than you if you need the rest. As you slowly transition to include bottle feeding in your routine, he takes on nightly shifts for you. You find him asleep a few times, sitting up against the crib with a blanket covered in spit-up draped over his shoulder and an empty bottle in his hand.

He is a sentimental man. He makes a locket that he wears as a necklace every day, tucked beneath his clothing, and shows it off to anyone that he can—a photo of you and your daughter inside it.

You swear you’ve never been more in love with Jayce than you are now. A loving father and husband who doesn’t let his new role as a parent overshadow his love for you.

He’s just as romantic as he was the first time he took you on a date. A month after you gave birth and were far too stir-crazy to be at home any longer, Ximena watched your daughter, and he took you out on a date that reminded you of simpler times. Showering you with gentle touches and kisses that set your heart on fire and reignited your passion.

Jayce noticed how your confidence dropped since the pregnancy. He finds you looking at yourself in the mirror and trying to love the body that grew your daughter, hands over your still-rounded stomach and tracing the stretchmarks. Changes that look so large in your eyes go unnoticed by him, and he makes sure to cherish your body as a reminder that his love for you hasn’t changed.

Every night in bed, he kisses your stomach, your hips, your thighs—peppering your body with kisses and massaging you as he worships your strength and beauty, silently thanking you for bringing your daughter into the world. 

As with any relationship, there are good days and bad. Some days go so smoothly that you wonder if you both were naturally inclined to be the perfect parents. Then come the days when all you can do is argue, overcome with the stress, fears and worries of marriage and parenthood.

But you make it through because to be loved by Jayce Talis is to feel love unlike anything you have experienced before, and that is worth the hardships.

[writingwordsgayly]

if you had told me when I leveled buildings I'd be living in a small village helping rebuild after a calamity I would have killed you, but once I opened my eyes I had to start fresh, no more fearful glances, just Jim behind the bar sliding my drinks to me while I shit talk the dart gane going on to my left, they try to pull me into playing, but I'd rather keep competition out of my life, I've chosen the slow life and I will be sticking with it, besides, I'd hate to bruise there egos, because my biggest trick was throwing knives once upon a time. the bell jingles as a group walks in the sound of their laughter fills the air, I glance up, expecting one of the other builders to join me, but my blood runs cold as see him, the one who foiled so many plans, the one who believes me to be dead, he had no part in my retirement, in fact I had already taken him down for my monologue when it all changed, trailing behind him is his party, the warlock sees me first and does her best to draw attention from my side of the bar, she witnessed my shift, with eyes wider then saucers, I stand up to shuffle out the back when the party is drawn into the warlocks story, but the dart players can't take a hint and get louder thinking I'll be joining them, I dodge tables as I run for the door, but I hear many foot steps following me, I do not look back, Jim calls out that I better pay my tab later and I hold a thumbs up above me,

fresh night air hits my face but I dare not stop, the sounds of the heroes follow me as I run where none in the town will overhear what's to come, I dodge a few crossbow bolts, I turn thinking I see one of the builders but I only see an empty road, I make it home, still faster then the team that swore to end me. I turn at my door, ready to accept what is to come, the warlock is first, looking terrified, you see we had the same patron, that is what shifted my perspective, I notice her emblem first, the foe of that patron, gorturth, she had offered me freedom of what he had twisted me to become, he had manufactured my lift to for his narrative, to be the God of a champion, she offered me wisdom,and a quiet place to think, and even guided me here, a place untouched by me. the warlock, no a paladin now, she smiles slightly seeing my symbol of the same god once again, he friends gather in the clearing, weapons drawn and spells ready, I hold empty hands to the sky, accepting my consequences, but a loud shout echos around us, the woodcutter stands in front of me axe in hand

"why are heros menacing a charity worker?" he starts,calmly he was the first to meet the new me, he saw the scares and fear, the brokenness of a fractured history. the hero's status talking over each other, but he points at the paladin

"I reckon you have a good head about you" she starts stuttering as she tried to figure out how to explain our mutual betrayal

"hoath manufactured home into being a villain, he shaped him to be as he was, I was never a true paladin just a misguided warlock, he saved you!" she points at the head hero, telling a truth I never would have, he pulls the arrow back

"how dare you mind control this town you fiend! you will never change, once a villain always a villain" he shoots at me, ignoring the civilian standing in front of me, luckily always quicker I push him out of the way, the arrow meets its mark, in my shoulder, never one to go for a kill shot, the cleric is the next to speak

"stop! he would have never tried to protect someone, will you just listen you? he can't escape and he's not fighting back!"

I swallow and begin to speak, the truths tumblr out, the woodcutter takes my hand halfway through,to stabilize me as I speak until I am hoarse, never one for many words, the shortest monologues imaginable is how I worked, I tell them of being abandoned and taught how to to kill, rewarded for it, and how we realized on that night it was all a gods tale, a sorry to make fancier temples.

the party stands quiet, as do we all, no clue what follows the truth, the cleric walks towards me slowly, my husband goes to stand in front of me again but he understands this is my karma, she heals me

You, the villain, faked your death and started over years ago. But you never expected the hero to stumble into your new favorite bar, laughing with their friends.

[sillymommy6969]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𝕲OOD LUCK, BABE (X’MAS SPECIAL)

Sophia Laforteza x fem!reader

summary: when sophia left for dream academy, she bid you a quick and gut-wrenching goodbye then disappeared from your life. now, two years later, when she’s welcomed home for the holidays, she has mixed feelings when she sees the new boyfriend you’ve brought to meet your family

warnings: nsfw, suggestive/sexual themes, harsh language, angst, mean!sophia, toxicity, jealousy, cheating, dom!sophia, sub!reader, degradation

Y/N always knew Sophia was going to a pop star. She was so passionate about singing, so passionate about performing, she knew her ambition would drive her to success.

The Laforteza’s and the L/N’s were extensions of families. They spent every big holiday together, ever since Y/N and Sophia were babies. Growing up to be best friends, then something more in high-school, it was safe to say the two were closer than they wished they were. It made falling in love easier; hence, it also made the heartbreak just a little harder.

Y/N remembered pacing around Sophia’s room, her chest tight and beads of tears spewing from her eyes as she watched the Filipina pack her suitcase.

“Sophia, please,” Y/N pleaded, “Just stay a little longer.”

Sophia shook her head, her lips pursed together. Her gaze fixed on piling her clothes neatly in the suitcase, refusing to meet the younger’s bloodshot eyes.

“My flight’s early, I don’t have time to stay.”

“I just—I just want you here with me for a little longer. Please, baby, I don’t want you to go.” Y/N begged. She lied, she did want Sophia to go, because it meant she would be taking this big step towards her dream. But the way she was acting like she didn’t mean anything really stung.

Sophia’s arms slumped, her head thrown back with a sigh.

She didn’t want to drag it out—the suffering. She wanted to rip this bandaid off as quick as possible because she knew Y/N would never recover otherwise.

“I think you need to go home,” Sophia said, “Now.”

Y/N’s lips pursed into a pout, her hands shaking and her glossed eyes glaring at Sophia. Even in her attempts to look resentful, like she absolutely hated Sophia for gutting her with such heartless comments, she couldn’t.

Sophia could still see the glaring signs of adoration. Of love.

But she wouldn’t budge, and Y/N left. Sophia would leave for two years, solidifying her place in Katseye, without saying goodbye. And after about a year, Sophia found herself thinking back on the way she’d left things whenever she was left alone wallowing in her thoughts in silence.

On Christmas Eve, Sophia’s hot breath fogged in the crisp December air as she stepped out of her car. The snow crunched beneath her boots, the familiar smell of pine and firewood kissing her senses. After two years away, everything still looked the same—her childhood home nestled at the end of cup-de-sac, the warm glow of Christmas lights and blow-up decorations twinkling in the windows and the roof.

And yet, everything felt different.

The last time Sophia stood here, her dreams had been too big for this little town. She’d rushed her best friend, her love then out the door and shut her out. She bid her a quick goodbye, but they both knew it was a goodbye that carried the weight of finality. Life at Dream Academy swallowed her whole, and she had the benefit of not having time to think about the state of heartbreak she had left Y/N in. The gruelling, seemingly endless rehearsals, competitions, and performances leaving little room for texts or calls with anybody.

Now, standing in the same driveway, she felt a pang of guilt. Y/N deserved more than the silence Sophia had given her.

The door swung open, and Sophia was greeted by her dad beaming back from the other side of the doorway. “Sophia, you made it!”

“Hi, Daddy. Merry Christmas.” She forced a smile, wrapping her arms around him as he pulled her into a tight hug. Inside, the chatter of familiar voices inside reached her ears, and she braced herself for the reunion she both longed for yet dreaded. “Sorry I’m late, traffic from the airport was horrible.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it, baby, I’m just glad you made it. Come in, come in! Your mother’s just setting the table, but everybody else will be so happy to see you.”

The house was bustling, with the scent of cinnamon and roasted turkey filling the air. Sophia greeted family members, greeting the children of her aunts and uncles. Y/N’s dad was by the fireplace, sharing a laugh with her own. It was a tradition for their families to spend the holidays together, a bond forged over decades of friendship.

When he spot Sophia, he stood, his arms wide open.

“Oh, Sophia! It’s been a while. How are you, my dear?”

She was like a second daughter to him, but a huge surge of guilt swirled in her stomach when she saw just how happy he was to see her. It made her think about how heartbroken she had left Y/N. It also made her wonder if their parents knew about their relationships—how they ended things.

“I’m—I’m good. I’m glad to be back.” She smiled politely.

“It’s great to see you, Sophia. Really. Have you seen Y/N yet? She’ll absolutely go crazy when she sees you.”

Sophia pursed her lips together. “No, not yet.”

“Well, she should be just around here—!”

And then she saw her. Y/N stood near the kitchen, her smile as radiant as ever. But it wasn’t just her.

Sophia’s heart dropped.

Next to Y/N stood a guy, his arm draped casually around her shoulders. He was tall, with an easy charm and a laugh that seemed to fit perfectly into the room. He had defined features, shaggy dark brown hair and icy blue eyes. He looked like the boys Y/N used to date before Sophia, the picture perfect type of guy she knew Y/N’s parents wanted. Sophia’s chest tightened as she watched him lean in, whispering something that made Y/N’s cheeks flush.

From across the room, Y/N caught Sophia’s dumbstruck gaze. Her own eyes widened, taking in the majestic sight of the Filipina standing amidst her family again. In a way, she looked like she was back where she belonged, but somehow still managed to stick out like a sore thumb.

“Sophia,” Y/N gasped, breaking Sophia’s trance. She crossed the room with a wide smile, pulling her into a hug. “Hi.”

“Hey,” Sophia managed, her voice catching. Her arms hesitantly hooked around Y/N’s tinier frame, a hand sliding to give her a quick squeeze. She wanted to say more, to explain her silence, but the words stifled in her throat.

A cleared throat interrupted their moment.

Y/N stepped back, her hand slipping into the man’s behind her. His hand casually slid to palm her hip, tugging her towards him in a possessive manner. Sophia felt like gagging at the sight, but she somehow struggled to look away. “Sophia, this is Matt. My, uh… my boyfriend.”

Matt extended a hand, his grin warm and genuine. “Matt Sturniolo. Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too,” Sophia replied, her voice steady even as her stomach churned. All that training put into putting up an act for work seemed to be paying off.

“You’re… Godfrey’s daughter?” he asked, receiving a quick nod and tight-lipped smile from the Filipina. “How do you two know each other?”

Sophia eyed Y/N, not sure which explanation she wanted to say; “We used to date until I had to leave the country to chase my dream” or “I used to fuck your girlfriend behind the backs of guys like you.”

“Uh, well, Sophia and I grew up together. Uncle Godfrey and Dad are really close.” Y/N explained, a hand on Matt’s chest as the man nodded. “We were best friends.”

His fingers smoothed out the creases in her dress over her ass, clutching her close to him like a trophy.

Sophia wanted to punch his lights out.

“How have you been? How’s life in LA?” Y/N asked, her eyes holding Sophia’s gaze. Her face still held the same sincerity, the same kindness Sophia took advantage of two years ago.

The Filipina nodded, “Good. It’s going good so far.”

The younger smiled, her bottom lip tugging in between her teeth. “That’s nice to hear. Your folks missed you a lot. They have me over more just to have a voice around here.”

Speaking of her folks, her mother appeared in the doorway between the vast living room and the kitchen. When she spotted her daughter conversing with Y/N, she let out a loud sigh. Her arms waved above her head, jogging over to tackle the singer in a hug. Sophia laughed, hugging her mother as the older woman squealed in excitement.

“Hey, Mom.”

“Oh, baby, you’re here! And you both are together again, ugh.” She clutched her heart, glancing between the two of them. “I’ve prayed for this day.” She kissed Sophia’s head, before turning to Y/N. “Y/N, sweetheart, will you please come help me with the cookies? I would ask Sophia, but y’know her, Ms. Clutz. I trust you around not things more than I do her.”

The Filipino clicked her tongue. “Rude.”

“And I see you’ve met Matt.” The man shot the mother a smile. She sighed, a hand squeezing Sophia’s arm. “Isn’t he just the most perfect boy you’ve ever met? I hope you find a boy just like him in the future, mahal.”

Nobody else seemed to notice, but Y/N caught the way Sophia’s guarded expression faltered just the slightest before that poker face of hers masked her true thoughts. She was never once to go against what her parents wanted, but what her parents wanted always seemed to be her getting married to a man and having grandchildren. Even then, Sophia knew the only person who truly understood her passion, the love she had for music and performing was Y/N.

But now she was too busy ogling Matt Sturniolo.

“Yes, of course, Mrs. L.” Her hand slid down from Matt’s chest, squeezing his hand briefly before she left with Sophia’s mother, arm laced around hers.

Awkward silence engulfed the two of them.

“So…” Matt began, “Heard you’re a pretty big star.”

Sophia hummed, shrugging. “Yeah, my bandmates and I work really hard. But there’s always room for improvement.”

“Yeah, yeah,” the Sturniolo nodded, “Look, I don’t want things to be weird, but I’ve heard about you and Y/N before you left and I just wanna say, she practically worships you.”

Sophia felt her heart begin racing. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I’ve only ever heard her talk about you once or twice, but… she loves you. A lot. You’re like the person she admires most.” Matt chuckled, “When we started dating, she had this notification on her phone to alert her whenever your band would put something new out. She stopped a couple months in, but she definitely still tries to keep up.”

Sophia hadn’t realized Y/N would know things about her and Katseye. It made her feel quite… exposed.

Yet, it felt freeing, to know somebody from her past cared.

And of all people, it made her feel guilty it was her.

“Really?” Sophia feigned happiness, “That’s… really sweet.”

“Anyway, you looking for a drink? There might be some beer or wine at the bar.”

Matt offered to go grab them some drinks, as if he was the host and she was the guest. It didn’t feel like her home anymore, watching the man work his way around her house, standing beside Y/N, hanging off her arm almost felt like he was replacing her in a way. Two years ago, she was in his place; she was the one pouring the greeting guests with drinks on Christmas eve, she was the one with her arm around Y/N, whispering things in her ear that made her laugh.

Now, it was all Matt Sturniolo this, Matt Sturniolo that.

Walking past the doorway to the kitchen, Sophia’s ears picked up on a familiar sound. A light, heavenly laughter that eased into the gentle crackling fire and faint Christmas jazz.

She saw her mother telling a story about some funny encounter she experienced that day, her hands focused on decorating the cookies on the tray. Beside her stood Y/N, in her element, a hand over her mouth as she tried containing that contagious laughter. One side of her hair tucked behind her ear, her eyes curved and soft and her smile grew.

She looked so beautiful. Fuck, how could somebody look so beautiful doing nothing?

Feeling her chest tighten, a tap on her shoulder shook her from her daze. Spinning on her heel, she was met with Matt holding up two bottles of beers.

“Woah, my bad. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

Sophia sighed, grabbing the bottle from his hand. “Hey, Matt, can I ask you a weird question?”

The man furrowed his eyebrows. “Shoot.”

“How long have you and Y/N been… dating?”

He pondered a moment. “Coming on two years, why?”

“And has Y/N ever told you about her exes or…?”

He shook his head. “Not really, no. It’s a touchy subject. I just know the last guy she dated absolutely shattered her.”

Sophia wondered if Y/N was telling people her ex was a man, or if she just never corrected what people automatically assumed of her. Whichever one, it soured her mood.

“How long has it been since you’ve talked to Y/N?”

The question caught Sophia off guard. “Hm?”

“You and Y/N. You’re supposed to be best friends, right? But you two seem a little… distant. Don’t get me wrong, I know it’s not my place to say, but you guys don’t exactly give besties.”

For the rest of the evening, Sophia tried to focus on the conversations, the laughter, the shared stories of the past two years. But her eyes kept drifting to Y/N and Matt. The way he looked at her, the way she leaned into him—it was everything Sophia missed about her.

The evening wore on, and soon the house grew quieter.

It was easier to distract herself when she was bombarded with questions from relatives about her career. Eventually, Sophia stepped out onto the porch, the cold air biting her skin as she tried to clear her thoughts. She walked down the stairs to their backyard, taking a seat by their pool. She took her shoes off, dipping her feet into the lukewarm water.

“Thought you’d be out here.”

She turned to find Y/N standing behind her, arms wrapped around herself for warmth. The sheer long sleeve she was wearing definitely gave her no sense of warmth, especially not in the skirt she was wearing.

“Yeah,” Sophia mumbled, looking out at the snow-covered yard. “Just needed some air.”

Y/N reluctantly took a seat beside Sophia, who refused to look at her. She shook her Uggs off, feet sinking underwater as well.

“This is bringing me back,” Y/N chuckled, “To when we would just sit out here and we’d fall asleep after a late night dip.”

Sophia didn’t reply, just savouring the sound of her laugh. She didn’t realize just how much she missed hearing it until she heard it again. She don’t know what to say, she didn’t know if it would be appropriate for her to say anything.

“Did you miss me?” or “Do you hate me?”; no, “I’m sorry.”

Instead, Sophia opted for a passive statement. Her ego shielding her from seeing her true attitude.

“That boyfriend of yours seems nice.”

Y/N cradled herself, her hands slowing at rubbing her arms for warmth. Her gaze fixed on the Christmas lights dangling from the roof. It had been the second time tonight she’s left Matt to fend for himself in a room full of people he didn’t know. If they were anywhere else, she would feel bad; but, sitting here, just feeling Sophia’s presence after such a long time, Matt seemed to be the last place her mind was hung on.

“Yeah. He’s a sweet guy.”

Sophia rolled her eyes at the soft edge in Y/N’s voice.

The muffled sounds of the dinner party inside drowned in the sounds of their feet swishing water around.

“Hm, he looks exactly like the assholes you used to date,” the Filipina snarkily remarked, “Just your type.”

There she was, the mean Sophia that left and didn’t look back.

“He treats me well. And he loves me.”

“Yeah? Bet he loves sticking his dick in you more.”

Y/N’s shoulders stiffened. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Sophia leaned back on her hands, a sardonic smile playing on her lips. “Come on, Y/N. You really don’t see it? He’s so… basic. Does he even know what you like? How to turn you on—?”

“That’s enough, Sophia.” Y/N’s voice wavered, but her eyes stayed steady.

Sophia leaned forward, her expression softening for a moment. “I’m just saying… it doesn’t seem like he’s what you need. Your taste got better, but now it just kinda plummeted again.”

Y/N stood abruptly, water flicking at Sophia as she grappled at her shoes. “Y’know what? I’m glad to see fame hasn’t changed that nasty attitude of yours. I was trying to be nice, put it all behind me because I missed you and I wanted to at least be friends again, but clearly I was wrong to think you would’ve matured at least the tiniest bit.” She shook her head, scoffing. “You don’t get to sit there and insult someone you don’t even know.” Her voice shook with anger. “Matt’s nothing like the guys I used to date, and he’s certainly nothing like you. He was the one there for me when you weren’t.”

Sophia blinked, her cool demeanor slipping. “When I wasn’t?”

“Yes, when you weren’t.” Y/N’s voice cracked as she stared down at Sophia, the memories bubbling to the surface. “When you fucking just—tossed me aside when you had a chance at your career, your dreams. And then you didn’t even have the decency to give me a reason why you were being such a jerk about it. I tried calling so many times after you left, I stay up late at night just thinking about you, crying myself to sleep. So no, you don’t get to waltz back into my life, insult Matt, and act like you know me. You don’t know me anymore.”

Sophia’s jaw tightened, her eyes flickering with guilt and something deeper. Her own feet pulled out the pool as she propped herself up. “Y/N, I—”

“No.” Y/N’s stammered, still shivering from the cold. “I’ve given so much of my time and myself to you and your stupid fucking games. This—” she gestured to Sophia, her tone full of frustration— “this is exactly why I stopped trying to call you. Why I decided I needed to move on.”

For a moment, silence stretched between them, thick and unbearable.

Watching the way Y/N shook, Sophia wasn’t sure whether she was shivering from the cold or from the sheer force of finally letting her emotions loose. The younger woman had never been one to argue, never been one to confront. She was always Sophia’s obedient little plaything, just the way she liked it. But seeing her like this, standing her ground, staring the monster terrorizing her life—her every breath and thought—straight in the eye was so… comforting.

She had grown, something Sophia should have done.

Shrugging her jacket off, the Filipina draped it over Y/N’s shoulders, despite the younger’s groans of protest.

“Is that what you call this?” she asked, stepping closer. Her voice was low, almost trembling. “Being with someone so... safe, so easy? Someone your parents want as an in-law?”

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as Sophia came closer, the familiar scent of her perfume making her heart ache.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Sophia was inches away now, her gaze searching Y/N’s face. “Don’t I?” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

Before Y/N could respond, Sophia’s hand brushed against her cheek, tentative but electrifying. “You’re lying to yourself,” she said softly. “And maybe I deserve all of this—the anger, the blame. But don’t pretend he makes you feel the way I do.”

“Don’t.” Y/N whimpered, her tone less convincing than the way her body language was giving her away.

Instinctively, she needed to draw Sophia close, her body leaning towards the magnetic pull from the Filipina’s hands.

“He’s a fucking cuck and you know it.”

“I love him.” Y/N muttered.

“And I love you,” Sophia whispered back, leaning in to gently press her lips against Y/N’s, the kiss igniting every suppressed feeling she’d buried. It was reckless, infuriating, and utterly terrifying impossible to resist.

Y/N moaned against her glossed lips. Her own hands fighting Sophia’s off before they reached any further up her skirt. “Sophia, somebody will see.”

“Meet me upstairs then.” Sophia stole a quick kiss again, “Where nobody can see.”

The Filipina securely fastened her coat over the shorter’s shoulders, her hot breath thawing Y/N’s cool cheeks. She leant down slow, torturously pecking the corner of her lips, before glancing up at the woman’s eyes, then down again.

“Don’t make me wait.”

When Y/N stepped back into the house a couple minutes after Sophia did, she was immediately approached by Matt, who had a beer bottle clutched in his hand.

“Hey, there you are. I’ve had to listen to your uncle talk about drag racing the past twenty minutes.” He snorted, “Woah, your cheeks are all pink… is that Sophia’s jacket?”

Y/N felt bad, lying to him.

Deep down, she knew she still had very intense feelings for Sophia. The same feeling she felt when Sophia left her, when Sophia told her to leave her house like she was some stranger, when Sophia was all smiles and super happy in every photo taken of her after she had successfully debuted as Katseye’s leader. Somehow, despite Matt being the safe and better option, she would rather be used, be drained dry of whatever she had to give and discarded than be with him if it meant she got to feel what it was like to be Sophia’s girl again.

“Yeah, yeah, I, uh—I’m not feeling very well.”

“Oh. Do you wanna go home? I’ll get the car.”

“No! No, it’s okay. I just need to use the bathroom.”

“Oh, yeah, of course. Go ahead. I’ll be fine.”

Y/N smiled gratefully, feeling the man’s hand rub her arm soothingly. She gently brushed him off, giving him one last look before heading towards the stairs.

There was no turning back now.

Quietly, she crept upstairs, walking past the hung portraits of Sophia and her family, some of which Y/N appeared in.

When she finally got to the door with a customized plaque with sticker letters spelling out “Sophia”, she knocked softly. Nearly immediately, the door flung open and she was yanked in. The door slammed shut behind her, and she was thrusted against the surface. The sound reverberated in the small space. It was dimly lit by a single lamp in the corner, casting shadows on the walls lined with posters and old photos of the two of them.

Y/N barely had time to take it all in before Sophia’s lips were on hers again, desperate and full of unspoken apologies. Her body pushed Y/N’s against the door, the younger’s hands threading into her hair as if she were afraid she might disappear again.

“You drive me insane,” Sophia murmured against her lips, her voice low and rough. Her hands slid down Y/N’s sides, gripping her hips like she was anchoring herself. “I’ve missed this.”

“Sophia,” Y/N interrupted, her breath hitching as Sophia’s lips trailed down her neck, leaving a trail of heat. “This doesn’t change anything.”

Sophia pulled back just enough to meet Y/N’s gaze, her dark eyes filled with something raw and unguarded.

“Okay,” she whispered, her eyes dark. “Let’s see if you’re saying the same thing after I fuck you senseless.”

Y/N’s felt heat pool straight down to between her legs. She couldn’t stop herself from pulling Sophia closer, her fingers tangling in the loose fabric of her shirt. “You’re such a fucking prick,” she whispered, the words a mixture of accusation and longing. “Still just as cocky.”

“You love it,” Sophia said again, her lips trailing wet kisses down her neck. “Y’know you love me.”

Something in her tone shattered Y/N’s remaining defenses. She pulled Sophia into another kiss, this one fiercer, fueled by a newfound hunger she had to engulf her senses in Sophia. They stumbled toward the bed, their limbs entangled. Sophia’s hands were everywhere, sliding under Y/N’s shirt and hiking her skirt up higher until the band of her black lace showed. Y/N gasped as Sophia’s lips found the sensitive spot below her ear, her knees buckling as they fell onto the mattress together.

Clothes were discarded in a frenzy, the space between them disappearing as if it had never existed. Sophia’s touch was both familiar and foreign, reigniting sensations Y/N had tried to forget. Every kiss, every caress, felt like a plea for forgiveness—a desperate attempt to make up for all the time they’d lost.

Y/N arched into Sophia’s touch, her breaths coming in short, shaky gasps as Sophia’s lips moved lower, exploring every inch of skin like she was memorizing it. The heat between them was almost unbearable, the air thick with the scent of desire and the faint perfume Sophia always wore.

“Sophia,” Y/N moaned, her fingers gripping the sheets as Sophia’s mouth worked its way down her body.

Sophia’s lips hovered just above Y/N’s skin. She looked up, her gaze locking with Y/N’s. “Eyes on me, baby,” she whispered, her voice sending vibrations straight through Y/N. “I wanna see that pretty face when you cum”

Y/N eyes squeezed shut, head thrown back as she breathily gasped at Sophia’s tongue hitting just the right spot. “I hate you for leaving,” she admitted, her voice breaking. “Fuck, I hate you so much.”

The confession broke something in Sophia, and she surged forward, eating Y/N out with a desperation that felt like it could consume them both. Her hands locked into Y/N’s thighs with her legs thrown over her shoulders. When the younger’s breath grew erratic, she knew she was close. And with a pitched gasp, Sophia’s tongue lapped up whatever had gushed from Y/N.

For a couple minutes, they just laid side by side on Sophia’s bed, catching their breaths before Y/N propped herself up, picking up her discarded clothing off the floor.

She slipped them on, back facing a confused Sophia who watched her movements with a tilted head.

“Heading back downstairs,” Y/N stated flatly, “Matt’s probably waiting for me to head home.”

Sophia scoffed, “Are you fucking serious? I just had you cumming on my tongue and you’re going back down to him?”

“Yes, Sophia.” Y/N’s eyes shut, sighing. “Maybe now you’ll know what it feels like to watch someone leave without a goodbye.” She flung the door open to the bustling liveliness of festivities downstairs, disappearing down the hall.

Sophia lied in her bed, a hand through her hair. She scoffed.

If it’s a game Y/N wants to play, it’s a game she’ll play.

[wheneverfeasible]

A Birthday Miracle

wc: 2.3k || rating: T || cw: child neglect, period typical misogyny and homophobia || tags: Steve Harrington has bad parents, platonic Stobin, implied future Steddie || brief summary: Steve’s birthday is December 25th and is always ignored, until Robin gets him a birthday present. || ao3

Steve, much to the disappointment of everyone, was born on Christmas Day.

Over the years, Steve learned to ignore his birthday. Despite what others may believe, he never received double the presents any year, and in fact by the time he was thirteen was just given a lump of cash and told to buy his own present. The Harringtons were far too busy planning their annual Christmas party, something that Steve’s birth had put a delay in that first year and which had never been forgiven.

It wasn’t that his birthday was ignored completely of course. At least not always. It just never was acknowledged on his actual birthday. As he got older, he might have done something with Tommy and Carol during the winter break, but they always had plans with their families on Christmas Day for obvious reasons. Even when he started dating Nancy, family took precedence over a boyfriend’s birthday.

Steve’s Christmas was always very simple. Wake up and get dressed in an outfit that his mother approved of, take posed photos in front of the wrapped but empty boxes before the tree, be handed his envelope of cash, and then make himself scarce as the caterers began arriving.

It was the winter of ‘85 when something different happened.

Steve was in his room, outfit for the Christmas party (different from the outfit he wore for the morning pictures) hanging from his bedroom door, something he would have to change into soon actually. Instead, he was laid starfished on his bed, staring up at his ceiling with that familiar sense of apathy regarding the day.

A few days previously the group had had their own little Christmas party, something where they wore casual clothes or even just their pajamas, crowding into the Sinclair basement to exchange gifts and share (kid friendly) eggnog and cider.

Steve had even managed to get Jonathan to take a special picture of the Scoops Troop, feeling more at ease with his arms around the people he rode an elevator to hell with than he knew he would in a few days in his own home. Erica had protested, but her grin was a little too genuine to make it anything more than a token attempt to remain aloof. Steve knew that feeling well.

So really, Steve had been expecting much the same as every previous year. He would attend his parents’ party just long enough to be the proper, well-behaved son, then he would escape with whatever leftovers he could pilfer from the caterers (they usually made him a plate) and sneak back into his bedroom to wait things out. Tomorrow, he might try to see if anyone wants to hang.

At least, that was the expectation.

Plink!

A small furrow etched into Steve’s brow at the soft noise, turning his head towards the shuttered blinds of his window. It had been a sound he was familiar with, just never on this end of things. When a soft thud came next, Steve let out a small snort and rolled off his bed, moving towards the window to pull open the blinds and look outside.

Robin Buckley had her arm arched back, a look of concentration on her face as she stood on the back patio, and even from this distance Steve could tell she had her tongue poking out slightly as she squinted one eye to make her shot. It explained why the previous one missed the mark and hit the siding by the sound of it.

Robin’s face lit up when she saw Steve, causing a flare of warmth to spread through Steve’s chest. He’d known the strange girl for half of a year and he’d be lying if he didn’t say it was the best six months of his life. Sure, the start of their genuine friendship had come about because of some crazy Russian scientists, an alternate dimension full of monsters, and a bit of physical and psychological torture, but all of that was worth it to be best friends with one Robin Buckley.

Still, he huffed faux annoyance at her, pointing at her through the window pane until she shrugged unrepentantly but dropped the small rock she’d been about to throw all the same. He hesitated only a brief moment before he mimed at her to head towards the basement garage, causing her to grin again and flash him two thumbs up.

A small bit of hushed bickering, sneaking around the caterers and decorators getting the place ready, and avoiding his parents ended with the two of them stumbling through the doorway of his bedroom with muffled giggles. Steve quickly shut and locked his door, turning to give Robin a fondly exasperated look as she began perusing his bedroom.

She’d been there before, of course, but less than a handful of times. He could see the way her gaze paused as it took it in the swimsuit model poster, grinning at her when she suddenly hurriedly looked away with a blush. She scowled at him, but he was glad that she no longer looked hesitant when he was reminded of the fact that she liked boobies.

Of course, it wasn’t really something he ever forgot, but he was glad that she felt safe with him. Felt like she could be herself without fear of retaliation. Sure, he could acknowledge that he still had a bit of a crush on her, but that was his problem, not hers. And he loved her more like a platonic best friend than he did as a silly crush.

“What are you even doing here? Don’t you have family visiting from out of town?” he asked with a shake of his head. They had already exchanged Christmas presents at the Sinclairs’, and they were more than likely going to meet up tomorrow after whatever family shit Robin had.

Robin rolled her eyes. “I told them I had somewhere important to be but that I’d be back in time for dinner.” She slid off her backpack she was wearing to rifle around until she pulled out…a lumpy package wrapped in white wrapping paper designed with balloons in rainbow colors. A big yellow bow was taped to the top.

“Happy birthday!” Robin exclaimed with a grin, dropping the backpack to thrust the package—the gift out towards Steve.

Steve physically startled at the exclamation, his mouth dropping into an ‘o’ of surprise as he took in the present that looked nothing like a Christmas present. No, he could see in between the balloons small script that repeated happy birthday! amidst tiny confetti bursts.

“Wh-what?” he gaped, certain he had misheard in some way.

Rolling her eyes again, Robin closed the distance and pushed the gift into Steve’s hands. “I said, ‘Happy birthday,’ dingus,” she laughed.

“But…you already got me a present,” Steve pointed out, because she’d just bought him Freddie Mercury’s new solo album Mr. Bad Guy for Christmas, which was perhaps one of the best if not the best presents he had ever received.

“I got you a Christmas present. This is your birthday present,” Robin stated like that should have been obvious.

Oh.

Steve’s fingers tightened on the present, the wrapping paper crinkling under his grip. There was a suspicious burning behind his eyes, but his father had told him only girls and queers cried, so he blinked rapidly for a moment to rein it all back in. It was just…

He couldn’t really remember ever receiving just a regular birthday present. Even by his friends. Tommy and Carol had always said their gift was a little bigger because it was for both, and even Nancy hadn’t really done separate gifts the one Christmas they were together. It was just never something he ever expected.

Yet here was Robin, his best friend, leaving her family on Christmas just to wish him a happy birthday and give him an honest to god birthday present. He swallowed thickly, more than just incredibly touched.

Before, he might not have said anything. Before, he might have just laughed it off and opened the present and been secretly grateful that someone had thought of him. But this was Robin.

Robin.

His best friend. God, he loved her. It didn’t matter if it was only platonic (with a capital P at that); it didn’t make it any less profound or true. He loved her. He didn’t think he had ever loved anyone as much as he loved her. Even back when they had bickered all the time at Scoops, there had been something there. He had just confused it for something else at first.

But they had clicked immediately, even back then. Even back when Robin had still thought him the same asshole he’d been back in high school, and potentially homophobic. Even she couldn’t deny that. Like they were meant to find each other. He just wished they had found each other a lot sooner.

But then, he hadn’t been that great of a person back then too. Maybe they found each other exactly when they meant to, like the universe just knew.

“No one…no one’s ever gotten me a birthday present before,” he softly admitted. “Not just a birthday present, I mean. Not one that wasn’t also a Christmas present.”

Robin’s gaze softened, and almost like they were reading each other’s mind, they reached out at the same time to grasp each other by the elbow in a gentle cradle. She didn’t look at him with pity, however. She knew that wasn’t what he needed.

“Well, of course I would be the one to do it first, dingus,” she lightly teased, squeezing his elbow briefly before letting him grasp his present with both hands again. “You’re my dingus. I love you,” she softly added, and the words helped heal that crack inside him that wondered if maybe he was still unworthy of love, just like it did every time she uttered those words.

“I love you too,” he replied, just like he always did. They didn’t say the words often, but they never let them go unanswered.

Robin grinned at him then, and it was that same grin as in the bathroom, when they suddenly knew that they had found their other half after all. “Open your birthday gift, Stevie,” she chided, spinning around to find the edge of the bed before plopping down with a clap of her hands.

“Dork,” he scoffed, but it was full of affection. He knew he was just as much of a dork. They both knew it, truly. He grinned down at the birthday gift in his hands, taking a deep breath before ripping the paper away.

“Bucky, you didn’t,” he gasped, his grin growing as he looked up at his best friend who was grinning back.

“It took ages to find the right one,” she confessed. “I made my mom take me all over for it.”

Steve hurriedly pulled the red puffer vest from the rest of the wrapping paper, careful not to drop the small toy figure resting on top. This? This right here? Christ, he had thought the album Robin had gotten him for Christmas had been the best present ever, but this certainly took the cake.

“Oh!” Robin exclaimed, and then like she could read Steve’s mind again, she was once more diving for her backpack. She pulled out a small cardboard box from the bakery downtown, followed by a blue candle.

“I don’t have a lighter,” she said apologetically as she opened the lid of the box to reveal a cupcake that was a little worse for wear from being in her bag, but still noticeably a cupcake. That she stuck the candle in. “But I know that you do, so hand it over and let’s light it up.”

Steve felt that burn behind his eyes again. A birthday present, one that symbolized something so important to them, and a birthday cake. On his actual birthday. He had never loved Robin as much as he did in that moment.

Huffing a small laugh that was only slightly wet, Steve carefully moved to set the little packed figure on his desk, propped up against his bowling pin he’d stolen with Tommy one year, and found his lighter to hand off to Robin.

“Happy birthday to you,” Robin started singing as soon as she had the candle lit, holding the box up with both hands. “Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday, dear dingus. Happy birthday to you. And many mooooore…” Robin’s eyes crinkled at the corners. “Make a wish, Stevie.”

What more could he possibly wish for when he had the best friend he could ever hope for giving him the one thing he’d never had before?

I wish for Robin to get all the happiness and love that she deserves, he decided, wishing for that with all his heart, and then he leaned forward and blew out the candle.

Next year, after the earthquakes, his parents canceled their Christmas party for the first time in two decades. They were done with Hawkins, they decided. And Hawkins, or at least the people in it important to Steve, were done with them too.

Steve’s friends convinced their parents to celebrate Christmas the day before, allowing them to throw Steve his first ever actual birthday party whose sole focus was just him.

But if Steve used the opportunity of a stray piece of mistletoe still hanging from the Munsons’ new house to kiss the boy he had a crush on, well, he just considered that his birthday present to himself.

After that, Steve never had to spend a birthday alone again, or have it ignored, even when they celebrated Christmas that day too. With one arm wrapped around his Platonic soulmate and one arm wrapped around the man of his dreams, Steve knew that he had somehow found the happiness and love he deserved too.

And it was the best birthday present he could have ever wished for.

~

Hostage Hotties (open):

@derythcorvinus @katyawriteswhump @honeii-puff @scoops-aboy86 @dotdot-wierdlife @everywherenothere @bumblebeecuttlefishes @lawrencebshoggoth

[irndad]

Christmas Wrapping- a.h.

a/n: i'm back and this is sad (no, really, it's a sad christmas fic. merry crisis!! also writing this made me think of @hotchfiles lol- lari i hope u like it <3 summary: 2 years ago, hotch broke up with a lovely but eccentric woman, and is thinking about this while attending a christmas party.

It’s Christmas, and it’s New York, and Aaron doesn’t want to be here. 

He always feels guilty when he misses Christmases with Jack, and it’s painful to admit that it’s happened more than once. He’d been understanding, but Jack is almost ten now, and the resentment in his voice is subtle, but sometimes Aaron could swear he could hear Haley’s voice in it. 

This dinner wasn’t optional- a director that was above him mentioned that if he wanted his career to advance, he couldn’t afford not to attend events like tonight. Which as far as thiny veiled threats go, is one of the lease concealed ones he’s received in a good bit. 

New York always makes him think of her. Even though their relationship ended two years prior, she sticks in his mind like a song, the melody never quite getting to be grating. She’d loved being called his girlfriend, and Aaron had loved the way she loved it. She was younger than him, by a little over a half-decade. But still, she’d worn it better than he had. He still remembers the sight of her, meeting him at his office (never inside, lest the team tease him endlessly), in her green shoes and multicolored scarf, hair in a clip that had been lazily thrown up, and a smile that dazzled him. 

“Are you ready, Mr. Hotchner?” he remembers her saying, on the other side of a memory lit in warm, glowy lights. 

“I don’t think I can endorse whatever you have planned for me.” He’d replied back in jest at the time. 

The walk from his hotel to the host of the party’s home is cold. He think it might be colder in Quantico, but his memory feels colder and seeps into his bones. 

He might’ve married her, Aaron muses to himself. It all feels so silly to think about. But she was hard not to think about when she was his to ponder over, and she sticks in the back of his mind even after he had made he decision not to. 

She’d been generous with him, the entirety of it all. Gentle with him when he mentioned that he wasn’t ready to tell the team, even if she’d known that he hadn’t waited eight months with Beth. More than that, she was beautiful. not just in her appearance, which was lovely in and of itself, but in how she carried herself. Warm, and kind- Jack would’ve loved her. 

He thinks of her laugh, how she’d picked off all of the salmon roe on their fancy 5 month anniversary dinner, and eaten the meal without it- how she booked Amtraks to visit family, because it gave her more time to read on the way, and no one would make her drive once she got there. How she traced hearts into his wrist when  she could tell he was anxious, read him like a book he never gave anyone permission to see. Loving her was a pleasure, an indulgment. An expensive wine sipped with leisure. 

A honk of a cab shakes him out of his memories, but it doesn’t stick. She’d loved Brooklyn, loud cabs and overpriced brownstones all the same. Sometimes, when doing monotonous paperwork, he’d fantasize about buying her one, a new home in her dream city, Jack and maybe a sister. 

The way it had fallen apart was one of the least proud moments of his life. Because she was different- not polished, or withdrawn in how she carried herself. It was what made her a pleasure to know- she smiled with her whole face, hugged people like she knew they might need it, wore her favorite colors because she wanted to see them whenever she passed a mirror. And he was a behavior analyst. 

“Could I meet your friends?” he’d frozen, when he’d heard it. Her voice was soft, like she was nervous. “I know you were wanting to wait, but you know- you’ve met my graduate school friends. They were thoroughly impressed.”

He didn’t feel impressive to them, and he suspects she might be being kind in this moment. 

“I just think you wouldn’t like them, honey.” He feels rotten lying to her, but the idea of it- of the team knowing that she is the person he loves- it feels like a magnifying glass under the sun. 

“I find that hard to believe, Aaron. And either way, I’m telling you, it would mean the world to me to know them.” 

He’d been backed into a corner, he’ll tell himself, later. This will be a lie, and it’ll be a lie he knows, even as he tells himself it. 

“I just think we shouldn’t do that until we’re sure about eachother.”

The silence that had followed felt chasms wide. She’d been silent in front of him before- when he’d come to her apartment too tired to speak but still needing to be held, and she’d lit a candle and massaged his hands, easing the carpal tunnel from writing paperwork. Or when she held his hand waiting for Jack’s results, when he’d gotten a fever they hadn’t been able to shake. This silence was different. Long and dissapointed, and Aaron felt like he couldn’t breathe under the shame of it. He watched her wipe a single tear from her eye, and grab her novel that had been sitting on his coffee table for the last six months. 

“I can’t make you sure about me, Aaron. I don’t really want to try.” 

It had ended like that. Reminiscing on the whole affair had made the walk feel short, although he could feel a tear welling in his eyes. His body knew her absence, and still does. Even now, walking to this party he doesn’t want to go to, he imagines what it would be like to have the shape of her pressed into the side of it. 

Aaron thinks to himself, before buzzing into the building, that he wasn’t ashamed of her. He’d wondered since the end of the first relationship he’d felt held in, if he left it because he was ashamed. But he wasn’t. He was unwilling to submit to the plain, unmediated joy of her touch. 

He was almost done ruminating on this, until he knocked on the door, and there she was. 

Aaron- he almost wonders if he’s hallucinating, because there she is. And she’s fucking gorgeous. She always is, but she’s so lovely tonight. Maybe it’s the fact he hasn’t seen her in so long, or maybe it’s just that she is that lovely, but the warm light of the party and Christmas Wrapping playing in the background- she looks like vision plucked from a movie. 

She’d kissed him at midnight to this song, once. 

Now, she’s beaming at him, opening her door to welcome him as a stranger into a party. 

“Aaron! Is that you?” it’s a physiological response, the jump in his chest, when she says his name. “My god, it’s so good to see your face!” 

She hugs him, and she still wears the same perfume. Her arms are warm and her face is in his chest, and even though it’s less intimate than all the ways she’s held him before, it feels kind. 

“It’s so good to see you too- what are you doing here?”

It’s a blunt question, but she doesn’t seem to mind, as she ushers him into home. It’s a family apartment, old-school and clearly well-loved.

“My husband liasons with the FBI, actually! His boss said they needed a get-together space, and so we offered up our apartment. It’s cute, right?” she’d walked him right up to a man, wrapped her arms around his middle, before turning back to Hotch. “Peter, honey, this is my old friend, Aaron Hotchner! He works for the BAU.”

Husband. She has a husband. She is a beautiful woman, who he has had the honor to love, to run through the rain while laughing with, who is known and seen and loved by someone else. Hotch takes a look at her, really drinks in the sight. She’s got on a green sweater, new- he can tell by the shape of it. Earrings that seem like they’re gifts, and her hair’s pinned up lazily despite the occasion. 

She looks happy. 

“Oh hey! I’ve heard so much about you- I’m glad you were able to come!”

Peter has a wedding band on hsi left wrist, and Aaron can’t help but analyze him. He’s wearing an ill-fitting dress shirt and slacks, and Hotch thinks he might not have had too much choice in hosting. Owning real-estate is uncommon in New york, and your boss knowing you have a place to use might have been enough to strong arm him into using it. it’s a relative’s clothes, and it’s casual in a way that would suggest ease and friendless. An arm rests on the small of his wife’s waist. 

The whole rest of the night is a blur. Jealousy doesn’t feel like the right word for it- it feels uncanny, to see her so open and warm with a man who so unashamadly loves her. There’s engagement photos on the walls, and Aaron studies them like he’ll be tested. Maybe he’s testing himself. They’re not real photos, just a photobooth they’d gone too, her ring in the foreground of all of them. Peter is a wiry, thin, dark-haired brown-eyed man who is younger than Aaron, and a year older than her. 

He hears someone say they met in high school, and Hotch dimly wonders if he ever had a shot with her. He thinks this, while looking at a photo of the two of them at prom together (but not together). It’s self-comfort, he knows. Because she’d asked him, to take her seriously. 

She’s drinking grape juice, instead of champagne. Aaron thinks he knows why, from the way she runs a gentle hand over her stomach when she thinks no one’s looking, and how Peter’s eyes are always trained on her midsection.

He wishes he didn’t know how to be this observant. 

When the night ends, and Aaron comes back to Quantico, and people asks him how the party went, Aaron tells them it went well, and says that he saw an old friend who he’d missed a great deal out there. 

He figured it’s probably better to admit to loving her in some way, at some point. Even if it’s far, far too late. 

[tumblingxelian]

I wasn't aware I was notable, so I appreciate the excitement for the response on that front, as to the rest:

Well, you are right in something. I'm sorry, I always take bias as "saying things that aren't truth". But, even in @faunusrights post she denies some of the claims of the RWBY wiki.

You'd need to cite some claims they argued were not true and yet still canon, as it stands this is an accusation without evidence I feel.

He didn't have Ozpin dismissed from his position. At least, the council said "We are going to talk about your position" but that didn't end up happening. And Ironwood just gave a report of the situation to the council. It wasn't his intention to have Ozpin kicked of the council.

He had Ozpin ousted as head of security for the Vytal Festival, a job Ironwood was uniquely unqualified for given his myriad of poor decisions like not even understanding the premise if "Scouts". But also, Ironwood had been reporting tot he council behind Ozpin's back for weeks, even as he claimed to trust Ozpin and be loyal he was explicitly undercutting Ozpin to his superiors to steal his job based on the egotistical conviction he could do it better.

About allying with the SDC. I mean, it's not like Ironwood is doing something evil with that. Ironwood gave robots to the SDC, (in a world where the Grimm and the terrorist are a risk). Let's remember that Ironwood wants to retire the men from the dangers of the battlefield, so having robots would protect SDC workers and guards. Later both worked on the Paladins and the airships. What's wrong with that? He later didn't have problems annoying Jacques with the embargo, close of borders and putting a military operation over the abandoned Dust mine.

He very explicitly is doing something evil by allying wth the SDC, a canonically corrupt organization, that abuses, exploits and even causes the deaths of its workers, most of whom are also a discriminated against minority and underclass.

Being their ally is intensely immoral on Ironwood's part, and he only turned against Jac, because the man refused to be intimidated into obedience like most other people. Jac outright even highlighted that Ironwood was acting as a dictator and Ironwood didn't disagree, merely threatened him with the prospect that if he is a dictator then Jac should want to stay on his good side.

Pulling out his troops out of Vale... Well, he was put in charge of the security during the Vytal Festival. The Vytal festival ended, he needed his troops at home, protecting Atlas. The same goes about pulling his troops out of Mistral.

Vale was their ally and a place still being over run with Grimm, Atlas still had the rest of its army, specialists and Hunters and as far as we known was not in any particular danger.

He bailed on Vale the moment it suited him because, as Mistral further demonstrated, Ironwood is a Fairweather friend who won't stick with people when the going gets hard.

Also seriously, the army he "needed" at home literally did jack and shit beyond floating there. He didn't need them except for his own personal sense of security.

About neglecting Mantle, I agree. But oppression and exploitation... Well, not so much. At least, not during the first episode as you say: He is not responsible for the exploitation of Mantle, it is Jacques. He is not a businessman, he is a general and headmaster. And about oppression? You say for the police state? I mean, it is needed to give protection to the people of Mantle and prevent Salem from infiltrate in the kingdom. And about the close of borders and embargo. Were security measures ensured to prevent Salem from infiltrate the kingdom.

Ironwood has basic control over the Council of Atlas & Mantle, so yes he actually is responsible for policies and circumstances that impoverish and exploit Mantle, especially as he is an ally of the SDC and other wealthy elites. Provided they do what he wants when he wants and what he wanted never involved helping the underprivileged. Jac and his ilk could only operate with the impunity they did because Ironwood enabled them.

The people of Mantle were arrested for defending themselves from Grimm, that has no impact on Salem's agents. The walls was not repaired, that enabled Salem's schemes. Mantle's defences were hot garbage and their resources were constantly stolen for Ironwood's pet projects, which also enabled Salem. I would also add, that Ironwood's closed boarder policy did nothing to stop Watts, Tyrian, Cinder & Neo from slipping passed it.

So it was entirely unnecessary, and only served to make everything worse in Mantle, which was a recurring plot point across Volume 7.

I don't know. I mean, Ironwood was authoritarian but that doesn't make him a dictator. He have two seats in the council, but that was never presented as unconstitutional. And 3 seats of the council are democratically elected. I mean, there is even political dissidence, things that aren't allowed in a dictatorship.

Well, thanks for help understand her point. I didn't get that back then. But well, I don't know. Just because women, queer or trans (Isn't trans included inside queer?) think good of Robyn. That doesn't make her right. My point was that not all the queer were necessarily agreeing that Robyn was great. And hey, Hatedom is such a derogatory term. And I think you are oversimplifying things about the rewrites. I mean, you wouldn't like that I simplify things criticizing RWBY.

Glad I could be of help there.

(Some people prefer trans specifically others queer, its a personal preference thing.)

That part of the post was not about whether Robyn was right (Which she was) but about the fact that its unsurprising if unfair that she gets so maligned by the relative minority of deeply conservative people who are neither numerous nor fans, but have lodged themselves into positions where their voices get to be louder than everyone else's.

We have a problem like this on the RWBY Tv Tropes page too, where the people who edit it, hate queer representation and the show and try to maligned, edit out or remove any reference to such things as best they can.

I could copy paste the part of Clover, Robyn and Qrow. But I think that the whole context is important. The thing is: If it happens peacefully, how does the arrest count as violence? Is a deprivation of liberty, but, why violence? And well, Qrow was willing to go. So, why not? Of course, the orders given to Clover were immoral. But, they still had the chance to talk. About Robyn. Hey, even Qrow suggested go to Ironwood and talk to him. Ironwood is different than the normal dictators. Robyn Hill just discovered that he was being framed for the massacre and that he had nothing to do with the murders on Mantle. She just discovered that he had reasons as to why he declared the embargo and close of borders. I mean, Ironwood have just been convinced of helping Mantle that very night. Not even give him the benefit of the doubt? The thing is, that fighting in the Manta could have mean Robyn dying stupidly.

OK, so I want you to take your argument about how "Does it qualify as violence if one side doesn't resist" and apply to say, a firing squad and ask yourself a second time, whether something counts as violence or not, just because the victim is passive.

Why would she give him the benefit of the doubt when his polices impoverished Mantle, his allies had exploited Mantle, his Ace-Ops tried to black bag her, his authoritarian rule had gotten people killed, and he had just decided then and there to leave her city to die and arrest anyone who disagreed with him?

I mean, everyone in the world can do that, that doesn't make it less arrogant. If she have waited till after the elections, then it would makes sense. But being so sure about it, shows that she is so sure of her victory.

I want you to consider why you think its arrogant for a woman to do this, when its standard operating produce around the world. Also keep in mind, if the election hadn't literally been stolen she'd have been right. So it wasn't arrogant regardless, just an accurate assessment of reality.

I mean, why Ironwood would arrest Robyn? Qrow is part of Ruby's group. But, she is not part of it. When I'm saying that he didn't underestimate her, I'm saying for the fact that he didn't underestimate her threat. I always interpreted as Robyn saying "He underestimate the threat I represent to his plans".

That's your interpretation, that is not how I took it.

Eh, he is not robbing Mantle. He is buying those resources:

Robyn: Clover, I’m so glad you’re here. Maybe you can help me understand why this truck that's supposed to be taking construction materials to fix Mantle’s outer wall, is on its way to the middle of nowhere? Are you lost?

Using government funds to purchase something for one purpose then using it for another secretly is called embezzling, otherwise known as theft.

You creating headcanons to justify it is just another example of exactly what faunusrights is talking about when it comes to anti Robyn, pro Ironwood bias.

Ironwood put Atlesian knights, soldiers, Penny, Ren, Nora (With the usual help of other Huntsmen doing their bounty mission), a fleet of Mantas flying over Mantle. I think that is far better than having to simply repair the wall. And the Grimm aren't busting through the hole all hours of the day. If that was the case the alerts would be sounding every hour. And owning guns isn't even illegal. What is illegal is owning weapons without authorization. I come from a country where owning weapons also requires an authorization despite the fact of we being surrounded by crime. And Huntsmen are also allowed to carry weapons. Think about the Happy Huntresses.

Clover put them there, & Marrow suggested similar missions, while the rest of the cast volunteered for them. Ironwood never assigned anyone to missions to help Mantle until the evacuation, something he had to be pressed into and went back on the moment he had a fright.

The fleet did not act in Mantle's defence when Grimm were breaking through the walls until the massiv estampede in which they also proved completely ineffective, the same is true for the Atlesian Knights and minor guards both of which served as a police force to keep people in line more than as a deterrent against Grimm. We literally see the Atlesian Knights trying to break up people huddling for warmth as the kingdom freezes and Nora outright mocks the idea that Ironwood's meager security detail would be of any use upon their arrival in Mantle.

Think about RWBY, JNR and Qrow being arrested for defending themselves & others?

As I said, the guns are allowed, what is not allowed is having one without authorization. What is stomping over all democratic norms? An election was just being held. Stealing private property of who? Jacques? His mine was abandoned. The public goods, I already talked about Mantle construction materials. There is heating for the citizens. And it seems to be a public service considering how Jacques had access to the Atlas network due to being hired to provide the heating.

As I said, you're wrong.

Ironwood was making unilateral decisions without consulting his democratically elected peers consistently throughout volumes 7.

Mantle's resources and yes, the mine, just because it wasn't used doesn't mean Ironwood can just take it cos he feels like it.

The fact you think its fine for Ironwood to oppress, betray and rob people, but think its immoral and arrogant for Robyn Hill to resist such things is very much the embodiment of the kind of bias faunusirghts was talking about.

Yes, they really thought that the ship was stolen. Ironwood didn't have a reason to lie to them in that moment.

They had zero evidence RWBY & co were on it, or else they would have arrest Maria.

About why they didn't arrest Maria... Who knows. Maybe because she was accompanying Pietro in that moment thought that she had nothing to do with the stolen ship.

You making up a headcanon does not change that they had no evidence and were originally arresting them for having weapons.

I mean, she didn't know what the results were really going to been. She can't see the future and Jacques have just used the whole city hostage. Maybe and he wins because of that power play. Of course, Jacques stole the election. And you keep ignoring that even Weiss and Ren commented on how weird it is to hold a party before even winning.

As said, she was going to win, and this is normal, the fact you think its arrogant for a woman to do this entirely normal thing, even when she's right speaks for itself.

I don't ignore that, I didn't mention it because it doesn't matter, what Robyn did was entirely normal and she was right,. That Ren (Who was down in the dumps) & Weiss (paranoid about her father) thought it was odd made them the exceptions, not the norm.

They only have been biased against Robyn. I mean, faunusrights never mentioned other example of the wiki being biased against women. So yeah, say that the ones behind the wiki are against female characters or female authority figures is just gratuitous. You can't simply judge someone without knowing all the work behind them. How is Ironwood conservative? I mean, maybe capitalist and anyway he messed up Jacques SDC operations. And liking a character and disliking another doesn't mean anything. I met persons who dislike Robyn and like Ironwood and they aren't against female characters or female-authority-figure characters in general.

Past experience with the wiki stanning Adam says otherwise :/ Also Faunusrights was specifically talking about Robyn Hill because that is where its most egregious. In large part because Robyn was new & its easy to contrast her against Ironwood as they were direct foils to one another.

I actually can, I am very good at judging things XD

Ironwood is all about centralizing control of the government, funneling money into the military industrial complex relies on authority, rank and coercion and is allied primarily with hyper capitalists who exploit discriminated against minorities.

There's a reason a lot of his fans are Trump voters.

Just to give a conclusion. I'm sure you doesn't care but I prefer to clarify something before the people start jumping to conclusions. I tried to give everything I could to the fandom. I made a post saying about why the martial law wasn't the right call during Worst case scenario. I have been there criticizing Ironwood inside RWBYcritics. I have dedicated my time to defend Robyn Hill and other matters of the series. So the fact that now comes @faunusrights to believe that I'm against Robyn and I'm a pro Ironwood stan is just... frustrating. I'm the one who decided to go and discuss with the RWDE in their very subreddit going against them. Fuck, I even responded to Dextixer in some posts. There is a reason why I put RWDE and anti RWDE in my responses. I consider myself somewhat in the middle.

Saying "I'm sure you don't care" seems rather backhanded, I took the time to quote and response to your entire essay which is more than you did for @faunusrights with all that cherry picking and I did so again here.

I am more confused than anything by this claim on multiple fronts :/

I mean, that's nice I suppose, but no one asked you to do it and I confess I don't know you nor do I spend time there, so I can neither confirm or deny any of what you are saying,

I don't believe faunusrights said anything beyond a lack of intent to read your response given association with some rather vexing takes. Though my sympathies on having to talk to Dex, that is vexing.

(Shrugs) Ultimately, you found a several years old post highlighting a bias in how Robyn is framed VS how Ironwood is framed by the people holding the microphone so to speak and deciding to argue in favor of the people holding the microphone. I know noting else of you beyond that, so its what I responded to, and I hope this all made sense.

Take care now!

what is going on with all the bias on robyn hill’s wiki page, anyway? - an aside

As someone who uses the RWBY wiki with some degree of frequency - often because I’m looking for art references, or Semblance and weapon names - I’m used to… some amount of bias in the articles for different characters? Like, let’s be real, it’s not a perfect wiki! Community-maintained stuff isn’t easy to all keep on the same track! But, generally, it gives the facts well enough and doesn’t do too bad a job keeping all the balls in the air when it comes to new information from all four corners of this franchise.

Well, until you open the article for Robyn Hill, and realise it’s an absolute disaster. Like, really; the impartial voice just plain doesn’t exist for her, and almost all of her wiki is written in such a way that she reads as being an absolutely insufferable, hostile, hard-to-like character. Even if you aren’t a fan of Robyn personally, you have to admit that if you hadn’t seen the show yourself, you might very well come away from her article presuming she’s a major antagonist of Volumes 7 and 8.

Like, for instance, let’s take a look at the first paragraph of her Personality section:

Robyn has a direct and confident personality, having no trouble being confrontational with Atlas personnel, including the Ace Operatives. Robyn also seems to suffer from overconfidence and arrogance, shown in her encounters with Ruby and celebrating her election victory before it was verified. She is aggressive and hostile in nature, quickly jumping to conflict without thinking through consequences. However, she is also shown to be reasonable when the situation calls for it.

And, for good measure, here’s another paragraph from the same section:

In “With Friends Like These” Robyn displayed a rather impulsive side of her personality, when upon hearing that James Ironwood’s plan to abandon Mantle and arrest those against him, she started a fight between herself, Clover Ebi, and Qrow Branwen onboard a Manta with Tyrian Callows in custody. Despite the fact, there was no order or her arrest. Her brashness led to Tyrian breaking free and crashing the Manta as well as her becoming unconscious.

(Taken from Robyn’s RWBY Wiki page. Bolding is mine.)

Seguir leyendo

[mossangelll]

HII HOW R U?? I was wondering if u could make a yandere caitvi x reader(like a poly relationship). Just headcannons if u like!! I really love ur postss💗💗

Yandere!Caitvi x Reader Headcanons

i’m great, tysm for requesting! sorry it’s taken me a while to get to this ^^

i was gonna add a section on how they kidnap you (figured i’d use it for a different fic) and an nsfw section but i didn’t know if anyone wanted that so i skipped it this time

HOW THEY MEET YOU

ok so vi is the one who notices you first - at first, you’re just another person who blends into the crowd at her fights

but then she begins to see you at every single fight of hers without fail, always with a huge handmade sign that says something like “step on ME, vi” or “vi, you’re the BEST!”

she thinks it’s endearing how someone like you, so unassuming and cute, is hanging around shady dens like this just to support her

you manage to catch her at the bar after one of her fights and you two strike up an unlikely friendship

she starts to fall head over heels for you - you don’t seem to care or even notice that she’s a mess

in fact, you’re hellbent on fixing her and she can’t help but have massive heart eyes at this point even though she’d normally find something like this demeaning (she doesn’t need to be saved!)

all her life, she’s chased after the people she loved and prioritised their well-being and now someone’s finally doing the same for her

you make her feel so seen at a time in her life when she feels incredibly lost and worthless

however it’s at this point vi leaves the fighting scene and reconnects with cait - you gave her the strength to do so

vi always feels guilty about this but you’re always in the back of her mind, a hopeful what if to ponder on the lonely nights after a lover’s quarrel with cait

so it’s nothing short of serendipity when cait starts to come home later and later, talking about a new recruit who has potential that needs to be nurtured and look at that - it’s you

cait knows she needs to be faithful to vi, she would never dream of going behind her back, but she’s drawn to you in a way that simultaneously confuses her and excites her

she becomes your mentor and sees parts of herself in you and that just makes her obsession infatuation that much worse

cait blurs the line between appropriate behaviour between a subordinate and their junior; she shows up at your door randomly for a “work assignment” and pries into the private details of your love life

if she finds out you’re dating someone or interested in someone other than her, your work life becomes a living nightmare

you’ll constantly be admonished for the tiniest infractions simply because she’s wants you all to herself and doesn’t know how to express her emotions in a healthy way

vi can’t even find it in herself to be jealous when she sees the lustre in cait’s blue eyes, one that’s only reserved for her, starts to come out whenever she’s around you but she does feel left out, after all, vi found you first

the two end up having a conversation and realise that they can’t live without you in their lives - all to themselves, that is

OK TIME FOR WHAT THEY’RE LIKE IN A RELATIONSHIP

honestly i think vi is the one you can wrap around your pinkie finger - she has such a soft spot for the people she loves and she’s not afraid of making it known

you want more treats? she’ll sneak them in

you want to go outside? ok, but vi is handcuffing you to her and you can only stay out for five minutes

surprisingly she respects your boundaries and tries not to be overly affectionate with you when you don’t want to be, even if it kills her inside

don’t think you can ask to talk to family and friends though, that’s completely off-limits and you will see a sadistic side to vi she doesn’t normally let out

i imagine her punishments would be something to the effect of her saying extremely cruel and upsetting things to you to remind you of your place

she would also be into physical punishments like spanking but not anything that could really hurt you - she would have a breakdown if she hurt you to the point of serious injury and would never forgive herself

cait on the other hand is essentially the “bad cop” in this scenario, it’s not that she doesn’t love you, in fact i would say she’s probably more obsessed than vi is, it’s that she doesn’t want to risk anything bad happening to you whatsoever

she went lax on punishing zaunites and it ended up with her mother dead - she’s not taking any risks when it comes to you

it harder to tell with cait but she does try to show her affection, it’s just not as obvious as the way she acts to vi

she does like to be physically affectionate with you more than vi does but this too is very subtle

she likes to make these actions seem like a necessity when really it’s for her own satisfaction

e.g. she’ll hold you hand and profess it’s because “you might fall over” even though you can see the faint blush on her cheeks - you’re both aware it’s a terrible lie but are equally too embarrassed to mention it

like in my other work, her shows of affection come from giving you books, painting lessons and expensive clothes, etc. - she wants to nurture your talents and expose you to the finer things in life that you’ve missed out on

she lowkey has a superiority complex when it comes to this lmao but i think she does it all to mask her deep insecurities

she doesn’t want to seem weak in front of her darling

her punishments are more harsh. i feel like she would put you in isolation and leave you hungry if you refuse to abide by her or vi’s rules

i hc that this stems from her childhood; her mother would withhold affection (maybe not to this extent) whenever she misbehaved and this way of thinking carried over to adulthood

this means that caitlyn and vi do tend to argue over what they think is best for you and it lowkey gives divorced parents energy - they’re constantly trying to prove themselves right

it’s a very volatile environment to be in

imo this is kinda cait and vi’s way of flirting too 😭 in the aftermath they look back on it like ‘awww she cares so much about our darling she’s willing to fight over them - so cute!’

their relationship stays mostly the same as it was before just a lil more intense

they’d both be yandere for each other, it just manifests a lot more strongly with you

like, they know they can look after themselves but you’re so weak they need to go above and beyond to ensure their most precious darling is safe

they both plan detailed daily routines for you and you’re micromanaged down to the smallest details: how long you can sleep for, the food you eat, the exercises you do, the clothes you wear, the people you can interact with

in my mind, this takes place at the end of s2 so you live with them in cait’s mansion - they’ve both experienced a LOT of trauma which contributes to them developing a codependent relationship and having to drag someone else into their mess

it’s definitely a stifling relationship and it feels like you’re never truly alone, if for some reason they can’t be there with you there’ll always be a trusted maid or enforcer keeping tabs on you

omg wait they definitely give you a diary and say it’s private but at the end of the night they’ll read through it to see if you’re planning anything they wouldn’t agree with

cait came up with the idea and vi thinks it’s a violation of your privacy but she goes along with it anyway

would never admit it but secretly it’s her favourite time of the day (if she respects your physical boundaries, she’s gotta break some other boundaries - give her a break!)

they just want to patch up the pain they feel from all the losses they’ve had to deal with and unfortunately for you, you’re their bandages

masterlist

[kaliforniahigh]

birds of a feather, we should stick together - n.s. (part one)

Best friends to lovers, fake dating and best friend Noah <3

Warnings: a mean character, curse words, Noah makes fun of fine line tattoos, lies and reader trying to fit in to the best of her abilities. If I missed something, let me know!

Part 2 is in the works and coming soon!

WC: 4.3k words.

Requests are closed for now / Click here to be added to the permanent tag list <3

To say you were overly excited to meet up with your high school friends would be a total lie. When you told Noah they arranged a lunch date, to remember the good old days, he scoffed, and asked you why you even stayed in the group chat with these people.

Truth is, they weren't all bad. Acually, most of them were pretty nice, It was the Regina George of the group, also known as Jade, who fucked up the vibes.

Jade was a mean girl, and she never understood why you were friends with the awkward emo kid, with the side-swept bangs. This emo kid being your best friend, Noah Sebastian, who was the first person you met when you enrolled in a new school, in the middle of the school year.

It was 6th grade, and you had just moved to Richmond, VA. Your dad was transferred, so you had to find a new home, in a new city.

You and Noah became friends fast, being paired up by your English teacher during reading classes, you talked more than you actually read. He found out, that even though it didn't look like it, you enjoyed the same bands as he did. And that you learned to play acoustic guitar from a pretty young age.

You told him that your dad was in a band during his college years, but, due to adult responsabilities, it became more of a hobby for him than anything else.

Soon, the two of you were inseparable. Walking down school corridors together, him going to your house to do homework, and showing you around the city on the weekends.

You were the one who took school more seriously than him, and you were the one who ended up going to college and getting your Master's degree right after. But he was the one who always took you to watch his band practice, who took you to watch his friends - who were always much older than the two of you - perform.

When you were both 15, Noah told you he was going to drop out of high school. You weren't too happy, because you wouldn't have your best friend with you anymore, but you always knew the time would come, and were surprised he didn't decide to do it much sooner.

And that's how you met Jade and her friends. You weren't popular by any means, but, one day, she approached you and asked you how you styled your hair so nicely, and how she loved your pink tips.

You wanted to tell her that your best friend helped you. When you told Noah you wanted a splash of color in your hair, he went to the store with you to buy the necessary things. He wanted you to do purple, but you settled on pink. You remember him huffing in annoyance, telling you that pink was such a boring color.

At home, he helped you with the back of your head, while you spread the vivid color on the front pieces. It turned out amazing, and you joked that he could be a hair stylist if this band thing didn't work out.

Noah and Jade never really got along. The first day they met, Noah was picking you up from school, waiting for you in the parking lot. You remember Jade making a backhanded remark about his tattoos and the way he dresses, and Noah's face turned sour immediately.

After that, anytime they were in the same vicinity, shady comments were thrown by both of them. Noah always commenting about how the bleach in her hair must've gotten to her brain, and Jade commenting about how Noah was a wannabe rockstar.

Noah asked you many times why you kept her around, instead of dumping her and finding new friends, and you always explained how it wasn't that easy.

This was high school, and everyone already had their group of friends, not really being keen on letting other people in. Besides, without him there, and without the girls, you truly had no one else.

At the end of the day, he understood. Noah himself had a hard time making friends, and to this day, he never understood how someone like you decided to befriend him. He knew how being solitary could ruin your years in high school.

Now, sitting in this overpriced lunch spot they found downtown, you were contemplating your life choices as you tried to eat your Caeser salad without grimacing. All of them ordered fucking salads, and you did the same, not wanting to be the only one ordering chicken parm.

"Girlies", Jade said, wiping her mouth with a napking and setting it back down on her lap. "I know this is a reunion, but I have such good news", she clapped her hands excitedly. Typical Jade, always wanting the attention on her.

Everyone stopped eating to pay attention to what she was saying.

"So, you know how Peter proposed to me last year, right?", everyone nodded yes. "We're getting married in two months!", she exclaimed, reaching inside her Louis Vitton bag and pulling out what seemed to be wedding invitations. "And all of you are invited!"

The girls cheered and started to hug her, you did the same, expressing your happines for your friend.

"It's going to be in the Bahamas, in an all-inclusive resort", she informed, handing out the wedding invitations. Meanwhile, you were wondering with what money you were getting your ass to the Bahamas.

"Peter is paying all the expenses, for everyone, so don't even worry about it", she said, as if reading your thoughts.

Jade got engaged to the kind of person everyone thought she was going to date. Peter was a hot shot plastic surgeon based in LA. You had no doubt he racked up millions of dollars every month just fixing people's faces. Jade herself had something new done everytime you met up.

"What about you, Y/N? Who are you bringing as your plus one?", Emma asked. You guess you zoned out and missed part of the conversation.

"You're bringing your boyfriend, right?", Lily chimed in.

Did they even know if you had a boyfriend or not? You looked around the table, all the girls waiting for your answer. You didn't know what to say. Suddenly, your eyes noticed all of their beautiful engagement rings, and you didn't have the courage to say you were still single.

"Yeah, of course", you answered, hoping you were convincing.

"Uhh, that's amazing! Who is he?", Jade asked, excitment coating her voice.

Shit. Who the fuck would you say is your boyfriend?

"Noah", you said. He was the first person to come to mind, and you didn't hesitate to say his name.

You saw Jade's face twist in a frown.

"You're dating Noah?", she asked, judgment evident in her tone.

"Hmm, yeah, for a while now", you were lying through your teeth at this point.

"Well", she shrugged. "I guess it was always gonna happen anyways", and just like that, the rest of the girls went back to their conversations, while you mulled over what the hell you had just done.

You were already gonna tell Noah to come with you to the wedding the moment she handed out the invitations, which, was going to be a difficult task in itself, since Noah held a grudge against Jade to this day. But you were sure you could convince him with the all-inclusive resort argument.

Now, not only did you have to convince him to go with you, but you had to tell him you told the girls you were dating?

You were already thinking of excuses not to go.

When everyone was finished with their meals, they slowly started to say their goodbyes. You did the same, giving each one of them a kiss on the cheek as you made your way out of the restaurant and to your car.

When you got in, you instantly fished your phone from your purse, dialing Noah's number.

"You need saving from the botox bitch?", Noah answered the phone. You rolled your eyes, but laughed anyway.

"I'm already leaving the restaurant, actually. I was calling to ask if I can come over"

"Since when do you call to ask if you can come over?", he asked, confusion in his voice. He was right, you usually just showed up.

"I don't know? To make sure you're home?"

"You know I'm always home"

"Can I comer over or not?", you asked again, a hint of fake annoyance in your voice.

"Of course you can"

"Then I'll see you in fifteen", you said, hanging up the phone and starting your car.

On the way over to Noah's house, you've been thinking about how you were going to break the news. You still had a little while to think about what you were going to tell him, but, you knew that as soon as he saw your face, he'd know you were hiding something from him.

So, without an actual plan, you decided to tell him today. That way, you wouldn't have to torture youself for days with this information, and you gave him more time to prepare. That is, if he even decided to go.

You trusted your abilities to convince him, though. Noah had a history of doing whatever you wanted just to see you happy, and you never took advantage of that, but desperate times call for for desperate measures. Besides, a vacation to the Bahamas, with all expenses paid, didn't seem all that bad. Even if you had to endure Jade for a few days.

Parking outside, you gave yourself a pep talk before leaving your car and locking it behind you. Using your spare key, you unlocked the front door and made your way inside the living room, announcing your arrival by calling Noah's name.

"I'm right here, what are you yelling for?", he answered from the couch, the PS5 controller in his hands. You just shrugged in answer, and sat next to him.

Grabbing your purse, you pulled out the fancy wedding invitation Jade had handed to you, and set it on the couch beside him and between the two of you. Grabbing it and reading what was written in gold letters, Noah's eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"Oh, so the queen of botox is getting married to the king of botox?", you gave him a sideways glance, but smiled at his nicknames for the couple. It did suit them, after all.

"Yeah, they are. Jade couldn't help but announce it today", you pointed out.

"Well, are you going?", he asked, setting the invitation back down.

"Hmm. It depends, I guess", you answered, avoiding his eyes and you could tell he already clocked that something is wrong.

"Why?", he asked, a little hesitant.

"Jade said we can bring a plus one"

"Yeah, you usually can at weddings"

"And I was thinking....", you trailed off and looked at him, seeing the exact moment the realization dawned on him, and he immediately started to shake his head.

"There is no way", he said, getting up from the couch and walking over to the kitchen. You got up as well and went after him.

"Why not?", you asked him, a little bit of whining in your voice.

"Are you seriously asking 'why not'?"

"I mean, I know you don't like her, but c'mon, this is gonna be a nice wedding. Besides, it's in the Bahamas, and Peter is paying for everything", you argued.

"Is it's because it's in the Bahamas, I can pay for a vacation for us in the Bahamas, no problem", he crossed his arms against his chest.

"It's not because of that"

"Y/N", he stepped closer towards you. "You know you can just go alone, right?"

"I can't go alone", you huffed in annoyance, because his argument was totally valid, but you did not have that option anymore, all because of your big mouth and will to please everyone.

"Why not?", he asked, confusion etched all over his face.

"Because...", your shoulders slumped as you realized the gravity of your mistake.

"Hey", he grabbed your shoulders, sensing your discomfort. You were never uncomfortable around him, so this behaviour from you scared him a little bit. "You can tell me, what is it?"

"I told them I have a boyfriend", you say, voice low and a little embarassed.

"But you don't have a boyfriend", he observed the obvious, having difficulty in understanding where you were going with this.

"I told them it was you", you looked down towards the floor, fingers going to rub your forehead as you waited for his reaction. The seconds ticked by, and the silence ate you alive.

"You...", he started, but stopped himself in his tracks, head going over what you just told him, to make sure he got it right. "You told them we were dating?", you answered with a head nod, still looking down.

"Y/N", he said your name with a little bit of annoyance lacing his tone. He looked up at the ceiling, as if willing the heavens to give him the strength to deal with you.

"I know, I know", you say, looking up at him. "It was just that they were drilling me about this and I didn't know what to do!"

"Tell them you're not dating anyone?", he deadpanned, and you hated that he kept stating the obvious.

"Yeah, but they already see me as the odd one out, what are they gonna think when I tell them that I'm almost thirty and not dating anyone? They're all engaged, for fucks sake!", you exclaimed and started to pace around the kitchen.

"You worry about what they think of you too much", Noah pointed out. He hated the way you felt like you always had to please them, they way you always thought you had to fit in into their world.

"It's ok, I'll just come up with an excuse so I don't have to go to the wedding", you waved your hand, dismissing this conversation. You were already feeling your head start to throb. You made your way to the couch, grabbing your purse, and the invitation.

Behind you, you hear Noah let out a big breath, before softly calling out your name. You stopped in front of the door and turned around to face him.

"You owe me big fucking time", he pointed a finger at you, and you couldn't help but let a smile dance over your lips.

"You're gonna do this?", you asked, a little doubtful.

"You're doing my laundry for two weeks", he comprimised. "No, three weeks. Fuck it, you're doing my laundry for a whole fucking month"

You cheered at this, not minding it one bit. His laudry was easy since he only had black clothes.

You skipped your way over to him, reaching your arms up and circling them around his neck to pull him into a hug. You couldn't see, but he had a smile on his lips as well.

At this moment, Noah thinks he would do just about anything to keep you happy.

"At least she can't make fun of your hair anymore", you observed, as you parted from him. He groaned in reply.

"Don't fucking push it", he warned you, but there was no real threat to his words.

"Oh!", you snapped your fingers as you remembered an important information about the wedding. "I forgot to tell you something"

"What is it?", he asked, looking at you sideways in suspiscion.

"It's at an all-inclusive resort", you wiggled your eyebrows suggestively. "Besides", you continued "Jade's probably gonna invite so many people, we won't even cross paths with her", you observed.

"I hope you're right"

To say you had a lot of time to prepare was a lie. Time flew by incredibly fast, and in between work, choosing a dress and picking up a suit for Noah - who complained endlessly about having to wear it, you argued that he can't wear a black tank top to a wedding, and he huffed and puffed even more - you were only one day away from boarding the plane.

You were going over everything in your suitcase. Another thing Noah was going to complaing about, you can hear his voice in your head asking you why you needed so much stuff. You zipped it up when you decided that obsessively thinking if you forgot anything was not going to make you magically remember something.

You texted Noah that you were ready for him to pick you up. You both decided it was best if you slept over at his house, and he was asking one of the boys to drive you over to the airport for practical reasons.

It wasn't too long before you heard honking outside, signaling Noah's arrival. You took everything you needed, and looked around you to make sure you locked everything up, and when you were satisfied with your quick inspection, you walked over and opened the front door.

Noah was opening the trunk when he saw you.

"Don't say anything", you raised your hand up to stop the words you were sure were going to stumble from his lips. He raised his arms up in surrender and didn't say anything. But, he did make overexaggerated grunting noises as he hauled your bags inside the trunk. You ignored him and went to lock your front door instead.

Getting in the car and driving away, you pulled your phone from your pocket.

"Jade already texted the flight information", you observed.

"At least she's competent", he retorted.

"Imma need you to try and be civil, at least. Remember we're going to enjoy the beach and drinks", you reminded him of what you've been saying for the past weeks. "And you can't call them botox queen and botox king".

"If she doesn't talk shit about my tattoos, we'll be fine", he argued back.

"Her husband has tattoos", you pointed out, as if that makes the situation any better.

"I bet it's some fine line pussy ass tattoo of a lion or some shit like that", he grunted in annoyance, remembering he's gonna have to deal with Jade AND her husband.

"You know what?", you rubbed you chin in thought. "I think it actually is", you pondered, and you both couldn't help but cackle out loud about the fact that he was most likely right about the tattoo.

The rest of the day went on without a hitch. You ordered some food so you didn't get any pans or pots dirty before traveling, and soon, you were both ready for bed, since you were leaving pretty early in the morning to catch your flight.

You were getting comfortable in Noah's left side of the bed, when he came in the room, dressed in sweatpants and a hoodie, joining you under the covers.

Plugging your phone to charge, you turn to look at him, doing the same.

"Did you set the alarm?", you asked and he hummed a yes. "Did you set it really loud?", he hummed in reply once again.

He knew you got anxious whenever you had to do something important in the morning. You always thought some entity was going to disable the alarms you set on your phone and you wouldn't wake up in time.

"Don't worry, we'll get there with lots of time to spare", he reassured you, and opened his arms so you could lay against his chest.

Sleep found you easily, as it always did whenever you and Noah slept on the same bed. You were used to sleeping in an empty house, since you've been living on your own ever since you moved for college. But to say your sleep was calm and serene was a lie.

With him, you felt safer, like he could protect you from everything and anything. You trusted him more than you trusted anyone else in your life.

Noah, wasn't as tired as you were, and he contemplated how these days were going to go over as he waited for your breath to even out. It was a ritual of sorts whenever you two slept together. He always waited for you to fall asleep first. And, sometimes, when you had difficulty sleeping, he sang some soft tunes, or rubbed your scalp the way he knew you liked, and that always did the trick.

Next time you woke up, was with Noah's shrill alarm ringing on the bedside table. He really did set it really loud, because you were groaning and telling him to turn it off. He woke up with a yawn, disentangling his arm from under your torso to finally quiet the alarm.

Yawning and stretching your limbs all over the bed, you heard Noah chuckle beside you.

"You're like a damn cat, stretching like that", he pointed out, looking at you with a smile on his face.

He always thought you were the most adorable in the morning. Your hair was a little messed up, and your eyes were all tired and fighting sleep. A part of him wished he could just pull you back to rest beside him and resume sleep. But, the trip from hell awaited the two of you.

Getting up from the bed, he announced he was going to brush his teeth and take a shower, meanwhile, you busied yourself gathering all of the suicases and backpacks downstairs.

As soon as Noah left the bathroom, you went in there and did your morning routine as well as you could with your stuff all packed away. Luckily, you kept a few things over at his place for convenience.

Changing into something comfortable for the airport, you made your way downstairs and found Noah dressed in usual sweatpants and hoodie combo.

"Did you grab your sleep mask? I won't lend you mine this time", you told him. Last time, you had to endure a whole flight without your sleep mask, because Noah had forgotten his, and you had no heart to tell him no when he asked to borrow yours.

"Yes, ma'am. I grabbed my sleep mask", he answered. "I already texted Jolly, and he's on his way to pick us up".

"Did you lock everything up?"

"Yep, already checked the entire house while you were showering"

Noah was used to this. You had a ritual everytime you were travelling, and he learned that getting ahead of you was the best thing to do. That way, you wouldn't get stressed with things he didn't do, or forgot.

Right on cue, you heard a horn souding outside, Noah opened the door and was greeted with Jolly waving from inside the car.

"Ok, let's go", you clapped your hands in a "chop chop" motion.

On the way to the airport, Noah and Jolly chatted on the front seat, while you went over the flight details on your phone, making sure everything was in order for check-in. Noah hated airports, so he left you in charge of everything he found boring.

The drive was short, and soon, you were bidding Jolly goodbye at the drop off zone, and you didn't miss the little pat on the back and the "good luck" he wished Noah before getting back in his car and driving away.

Checking-in, you and Noah found a place to sit while he grabbed some breakfast for the two of you. While you sat there, eating and waiting, you were reminded of a very important detail that you forgot to discuss with him.

"Oh, my God! I totally forgot to talk to you about something", you exclaimed, swatting him in the chest to get his attention.

"This is the second time you forgot to tell me something about this wedding trip", he said.

"When they ask us how we got together, what are we gonna tell them?", you ask him. You've been going over all the lies you'd need to tell during this trip, and you realized that you and Noah didn't have a game plan at all.

"That one day, you professed your undying love for me and then we started to date?", he said, as if the answer was obvious, but you could tell he was sprinkling a little bit of sarcasm in there.

"I'm serious, Noah", you huffed, looking at him. "We have to be beliveable, otherwise, they'll catch on, and ruin the whole thing"

"We can just tell them that we realized we wanted to have something more than just a friendship", he suggested, and the idea wasn't so bad. Jade always said you'd end up together from how much time you spend with each other.

"Out of nowhere?"

"No, we've been hiding our feelings, thinking that the other didn't feel the same way, until, one day, I told you I liked you and you told me you liked me too", you rubbed your chin, thinking over his plan. "It's not overcomplicated and if we stick to the same story, we'll be fine", he reassued you. "Besides, Jade is so self-absorbed she'll probably not even ask anything about us at all"

"That's very likely", you agreed with his reasoning. After all, it was Jade's wedding, so the light is gonna be on her, and not on you and Noah.

"What about PDA?", you broached another subject that you've been avoiding.

"If you wanna kiss me, you can just ask, you know?", he teased you, nudging you with his shoulder.

"It's not what I meant, and you know it", you told him, but you weren't able to hide the little blush covering your cheeks, and he noticed too, by the way he was grinning.

"I can hold your hand. I mean, I kind of already do. But let's just go with the flow. You don't have to worry too much about this, it's just a couple of days, after all", he said, and he was right. You and Noah meshed well and were usually in the same wavelength, so there was no reason to think things were going to go south.

You just hoped you had time to relax and enjoy the beach, the drinks and the foods, which, if you knew Jade as well as you did, were going to be impeccable.

Tag list: @concreteangel92 @foliosgirl @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @stardustsirenmelody @miwomens @concretejunglefm @fadingangelwisp @prettygirlrock126 @dontwantthemoney @tosoundlessdarkistare @babygirlchuuya @follow-me-down-to-wonderland @lacy1986 @romanreigns-supreme @xmads-omensx @missduffsblog @rumoured-whispers @thisbicc @badomensgoodomens @floatingkiwi @collective-heartbreak @dontwantthemoney @dream-machine-love @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @amelia-acero @kenjipepsi1 @montgomery-929496 @daddy-dierkes-girlie @stardustsirenmelody @cheyyyyr @triedbimsoblu333 @xxkatsatwatwafflexx @noyaisasimp @youlookforultraviolet @w0manof-flesh44 @chaoticwineaunt @geminigirlfromfinland @turn-your-life-into-folklore @butterflyeffect07 @zozaline @deardelirium @ferduttini @jilliemiw86 @alylanaeblack @lilcrazy011

[minisugakoobies]

It's You - Choi San | All Yours

Pairing: San x Reader Genre: smut, crack, fluff, angst, roommates to lovers, BFF’s Lil Bro!AU Series Rating: M (18+) Drabble Warnings: sneaking around continues, this is just a very soft little holiday gift from me to you, San remains the sweetest and OC remains fully whipped for him Word Count: about 900 words Disclaimers: SFW, obviously I don’t own ATZ - they just inspire me

Summary: He was only supposed to be a temporary roommate. Your best friend’s little brother, crashing on your couch for a few weeks. That’s it. How did this happen?

A/N: All San wants for Christmas is Noona 🥰 I hope you all have a wonderful holiday season if you celebrate and if you don't then I hope you have a lovely day ❄️

Taglist is open! Reblog, comment, or send me an ask to be added! You can also send me any ideas/thoughts you might have for a future scenario - who knows, it might end up in a drabble! 💕

It’s You Masterlist 🐈‍⬛ ATZ Masterlist 🐈‍⬛ Main Masterlist

It's late on Christmas Eve when the last of your family finally leaves, and you can excuse yourself from your parents and lock yourself in your bedroom. It's late, so late that you consider for a moment not calling, but you're pretty sure San's still up. He'd made you promise him several times that you would call him today. But you've been too busy dealing with nosy aunts and loud cousins at the family party to do it any earlier.

It's late, but it doesn't matter. He's as happy to see you as you are him, his dark eyes crinkling in delight, and then his smile turns shy, like he's embarrassed at how much just the sight of you lights him up inside.

There's no reason for him to be embarrassed. Your glow mirrors his.

You don't want to hang up long enough to wash your face, so he joins you at the sink. You glance at the screen while drying your face to see him delicately scrubbing his skin with sudsy fingertips, and he sees you and pulls a face, making you giggle. It almost feels like a normal night, hanging out together. Almost. You sigh.

"I miss you."

San surprises you by looking surprised at your admission.

"What? Is that news to you?" It shouldn't be. The two of you haven't stopped texting since you'd left the apartment three days ago to head home for Christmas. San and his sister had left as well to have a quiet holiday with their parents. Since then, you've had to invent a million excuses to slip away from your family and disappear into your phone. The device has barely left your hand, every alert making your heart jump, knowing San is thinking about you as much as you're thinking about him.

"No," San scoffs, face relaxing into a pleased expression, a soft half-smile that fully melts your heart. "Of course you miss me. I'm amazing."

"Nah, I changed my mind, I don't miss you," you say, pretending to frown, and San plays along, pouting dramatically, and you can't help but sigh again. "Okay, fine, I do."

"You always give in to me so easy, Noona," he informs you, that spark back in his eye, the one that makes your stomach flip. "I think I’m your weakness."

He's joking, except maybe he's not, and you both know it. You settle in your bed, burrowing under the layers of covers, shivering because your personal heater is several hundred miles away. San does the same, lying on his side as he gazes into the phone, humming lightly. If you close your eyes, it’s like he’s lying right beside you.

The two of you chat a little about your days. His was spent watching holiday movies with Hanuel while his parents prepared a big dinner together for the four of them. You talk a little about your extended family and the chaos they brought to your house today. 

This is the happiest you’ve felt all day. Even when having fun with your family earlier, you’d felt a little off, like something was missing. Making San laugh now, watching those delicate lines around his eyes crinkle with joy, fills you with such a strong contentment that you can’t stop smiling. 

San’s laughter turns to amused hums the longer you talk, and he nestles lower and lower into his pillow until his eyes are struggling to stay open. You don’t even bother to finish your story, too busy adoring the sight of him. 

"Go to sleep, San. Or Santa won't bring you what you wanted."

“Mmm,” he yawns, pressing one hand over his mouth, “but Noona, all I want is you.”

“I knew you were going to say that,” you roll your eyes, giggling.

“It’s true,” he protests, quickly growing serious, “it’s true, though. I wish you were here right now.” 

You sigh. “Stop making me miss you so much.”

Both of you fall silent, watching each other through the phone. There’s a tension now, and it makes you nervous for some reason, and there’s only one thing you can think to say to clear the air. You’re not sure if it’s the right thing to say, but it’s the truth and you really want to share it all of a sudden.

“You already have me, you know.” 

You’ve known for weeks now. Weeks full of longing glances, lingering touches, and hurried kisses -  and sometimes more, in the rare moments the two of you had the apartment to yourselves. It’s time to admit it.

San takes your confession with a long silence of his own. Just when you think you’re about to have a cardiac event waiting for his response, he speaks. “I do?”

You nod. “If you want me. I’m all yours.” Can he hear your heart pounding through the phone?

San exhales quickly. “Mine.”

It’s an agreement. A declaration. 

He traces his finger down his screen, pretending he’s stroking your cheek, and your skin buzzes from the mere suggestion. A warmth like you've never felt before spreads over you, soft and tender, so like the man gazing at you through the phone. 

Tiredness begins to tug at you. Only one more sleep ‘til Christmas, then one more ‘til you’re back home.

And back in San’s arms. 

"Merry Christmas, San," you whisper.

"Merry Christmas," he echoes softly. "Sweet dreams, Noona."

If you liked this fic, please consider reblogging! Likes do not help it get seen by other readers. 💕

Taglist: @sweetnspicy-noona @krystal-a @jennylychee @hiefisch

© 2023-24 by minisugakoobies. Crossposted to AO3. Please do not copy or repost. I do not allow translations of my work.

[accio-victuuri]

merry christmas to us turtles, my gift to you is this clowning post for yibo’s new song ( i am not here ) concept poster. of course, we have multiple cpns already with this material alone. lol. i’m sure we will know more when the track is released and other bts stuff. reminder to enjoy the song & if it’s cpn leaning or not doesn’t really matter. we are here to support yibo and this is his yearly “gift” to fans 🎁

as with xz’s we album art, our minds immediately went to the cql connection. it’s too easy! this is because the chinese title is 我在 which is i’m here but the english title and what’s on the poster is i am not here ( possible explanation of why this happens is at the end of this post ). it could be that these two lines are in the song — anyway, the “i am here” is something that lwj said 🥹🥹🥹🥹

in the novel, this has more weight and makes me wanna scream actually 😭😭😭😭

i will just include here the part/s in the novel that people are referencing:

Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian called out. Lan Wangji’s breathing wasn’t as steady as it usually was—it was slightly short, probably from overexerting himself in hand-to-hand combat while carrying Wei Wuxian on his back. However, the tone with which he answered him had the same steadiness he’d always possessed, and it was still that word: “Mn.” After that, he added, “I’m here.” Hearing those two words, a feeling Wei Wuxian had never felt before spread into his heart. It was like an ache. His heart throbbed a little, but it was also a little warm

LAN ZHAN…” Wei Wuxian murmured. He reached out and grabbed one of Lan Zhan’s sleeves. Lan Wangji, who had been keeping watch by his side, immediately leaned over to answer him softly. “I am here.”

Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian mumbled. Everyone was overjoyed, thinking he was about to wake up, but Wei Wuxian’s eyes remained tightly shut. Lan Wangji, on the other hand, looked as he usually did. “Mn. I am here.”Wei Wuxian said nothing else. He nuzzled against Lan Wangji, as if feeling safe and reassured, and continued to sleep.

The moment Wei Wuxian heard the dog, his hair immediately stood on end and he shrank into Lan Wangji’s embrace. Scared completely out of his wits, he cried out. “Lan Zhan!” Lan Wangji already knew to hold him. “Mn!” he assured him. “I am here!” “Hold me!” Wei Wuxian pleaded. “I am!” Lan Wangji replied. “Hold me tight!” Wei Wuxian then specified. “I am!” Lan Wangji confirmed.

and if you think about it— this is what wyb is to xz. he is there. even when is not there physically, he is. and vice versa 🫶🏼

plus the photo of yibo with his eyes closed, similar to lwj. personally, it’s making me so jealous of his eyebrows again 😤😤😤😤

fans are also going back to that one post of xz that said i’m here, good night! and when you connect that to the goodnight song that we think is a bjyx inspired track. and now yibo releases i’m here.

if you wanna clown some more, you can say that wyb’s song is sort of an answer to goodnight. cause xz’s more about not being with that person physically but he cherishes the goodnight they share with each other at the end of the day. and wyb is saying i’m here / i’m not here. ybo’s caption for the teaser is “Close your eyes and the colors of the world bloom in your heart. The distant blur and the real reunion at hand.”

so it’s a reunion? being together after some time apart? Close your eyes? Sleep and you will see me there cause i’m in your heart too. but don’t worry, we will be together soon.

I SWEAR. 😭😭😭😭😭

ALSO THIS TYPE OF DESIGN:

and how their song titles have two characters. we and i’m here. it goes well together.

and pretty much like how hu ge used “we/us” in his caption before. the same happened with this track. what a coincidence! 👀👀👀👀

Lastly, i found someone explaining why there is a difference in the direct translation. We had experience with this in GG’s songs form his wo men album. In the same way that the english titles of Chinese movies almost always is not the direct translation.

If the Chinese name is "I’m here” and the English name is "I am not here", this may be due to the following reasons:

1. Cultural differences and artistic conception: When Chinese and English express the same concept, they often have different language styles and cultural backgrounds. Sometimes Chinese names may focus on conveying a certain kind of meaning & artistic conception or emotion, while English names are more direct or have reverse meanings. For example, the Chinese name "I am" may convey a sense of presence or some kind of presence. The English name "I am not here" may be intended to express an emotion or theme of absence.

2. The double meaning of the work: It is possible that this work focuses on a certain theme (such as existence, positioning, presence) in Chinese, but in English it uses negative sentences. The expression conveys the opposite meaning, thereby creating a certain sense of contrast or suspense. This naming scheme may be intended to pique the interest of viewers or readers and encourage them to explore the work and the deep meaning behind it.

3. Translation strategy: Sometimes in order to adapt to the habits and aesthetics of different language markets, translation will take a certain degree of freedom. The translator may think that the English "I am not "here" can better capture the essence of the original work in a certain context or can more effectively resonate with English audiences.

4. Difference in context; if "I Am" is a contrasting or symbolic name, then the English name "i am not here" may be related to the content of the story. For example, a character may not be physically present, but still "exist" or "affect" the story on other levels.

In short, the differences between Chinese and English titles may be due to differences in language and culture, or may be due to the creator or translator's attempt to better convey the theme or introduction of the story. A choice made based on the curiosity of the audience.

There is also this interpretation:

The philosophy of "presence" and "absence" of emotions:

The combination of the two can also be understood as a philosophical reflection on presence and absence. "I’m here" can be seen as a declaration and guarantee of love, meaning that even if you are not together in a space, two people can still perceive each other mentally and rely on each other; and "I am not here" faces the physical absence in reality and is an emotion.

Self-expression on the Internet means that although you are not in front of the other person, you are still with them in your heart. It symbolizes the silent understanding and spiritual bond between long-distance lovers. Even if they cannot always appear in each other's lives, their hearts will always be with them.

Resonance in long-distance relationships:

Summary:

For couples in long-distance relationships, "I Am Here" may be the singer's promise to his lover - "I am here, no matter where you are"; while "I am not here" It is to Acknowledge the difficulties and helplessness of reality, "Although I am no longer with you, I still care about you." The two combine to express the unique experience of long-distance love: between love and absences, there are both firm commitment and deep longing and helplessness.

The combination of "I am here " and "I am not here" shows the emotional tension in long-distance relationships. Together they express a profound emotional state: that of being physically. We are not together physically, but our emotional and spiritual connection is strong. "I am here” represents deep love and firm commitment, while "I am not here" is a positive statement.

Acknowledging the sense of distance and absence in long-distance relationships. Together, they convey a sense of emotional persistence and acceptance of distance from reality, while also demonstrating that even in absence, Love still exists and is still real.

The Chinese and English names of this song are not only a true portrayal of the emotion of long-distance love, but also express the two aspects of love - persistence and absence, presence and loss, embodying the duality in long-distance relationships. No matter where we are, our hearts will always find each other.

THIS IS ALL GUESSWORK/CLOWNING. The title could change. There could be a completely different meaning than we think. It’s still so early but this is what’s fun with being a turtle and doing cpn <3 don’t take it seriously! Again, what’s important is we will get a new song! 🙌🏼

source/s

[4linos]

together at last.

yang jeongin x gn!reader

synopsis: what began as a lonely christmas morning transforms when you join jeongin’s family.

wc: 1231

part 8/8 holiday series. 🎄

It was Christmas morning, and you were staring at the empty space across from you, holding a cup of coffee but feeling cold inside. The room was warm, lighted by twinkling lights from the tree you had meticulously decorated, but it felt unusually quiet. You had already accepted that you would be alone this Christmas. Jeongin had warned you about a month ago that he would have to work through the holidays, taking on last-minute activities that couldn't be avoided. While you understood, it didn't make things easier. You tried not to make a big deal of it, saying that you'd be okay. But now that Christmas is here, it seemed a touch too heavy.

You'd spent the morning scrolling through your phone, checking messages from friends and relatives. They all wished you a Merry Christmas, but the loneliness gnawed at you, particularly when Jeongin's name appeared on your screen. "Hey, baby," you replied with a forced smile, attempting to disguise your sadness. "Hey, Merry Christmas!" He spoke softly and warmly, as he always did. "How's everything?" You sighed, attempting to hide the disappointment in your tone. “It’s good. Just... you know, quiet. Just me here.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line, and you could tell Jeongin had noticed the change in your tone. "Are you okay?" he asked gently, his worry clear. You didn't want to admit how much it hurt to be alone, especially because you'd planned to spend the day with him, but you couldn't disguise it. "I'll be fine." "Just... kind of lonely, you know?" You bit your lip and regretted the words as soon as they left your mouth. He was silent for a minute, and when he spoke again, he did it in an apologetic tone, which just added to the weight of the situation. "I’m really sorry; I know you were looking forward to this... I wish I could be there!

“I know,” you whispered, glancing at the gifts you had wrapped for his family, sitting untouched on the table. “It’s just... hard, I guess.”

“I hate that you’re spending Christmas like this,” Jeongin said, his voice tight with emotion. “You deserve better.”

The words hurt more than they helped. He sounded so genuine, but it didn’t change the fact that you were sitting there, alone, without him. You tried to push the emotions aside, but they lingered, making it difficult to stay composed.

“It's okay, really,” you said, your voice a little shakier than you intended. “I’ll be fine.”

"I should go, but I'll call you later," Jeongin replied, trying to sound optimistic, but you could sense the sadness in his tone. "I love you." "I love you too," you said, but it seemed hollow in the silence of the room. After hanging up, you sat there for a long, staring at the gifts and felt the emptiness rise. Christmas didn't feel the same without Jeongin by your side, and the quiet house served as a reminder of everything you missed.

Hours passed, and as you became buried in your own thoughts, your phone rang again. It was Jeongin.

“Hey,” he said, his voice this time laced with urgency. “I know I said I had to work, but… listen, my parents want you to come over. They know you’re alone today, and they’ve been asking about you. I told them you were spending today by yourself, and they insisted that you come over. They’re expecting you.”

You hesitated, unsure of what to say. Your mind instantly went to all the reasons it would be awkward, his family might feel pity for you, you didn’t want to intrude on their celebration. But then you thought of Jeongin’s voice, how he sounded so sad that you were alone. It softened your heart, and his invitation didn’t feel like a guilt trip.

“I don’t know, Jeongin…” you started, unsure. “Are you sure they won’t mind? I don’t want to be a bother.”

“I’m sure. You’re not a bother, I promise,” Jeongin insisted. “Please, just come. I need you to be here, too.”

You closed your eyes and felt the weight of the decision. You knew you couldn't make this Christmas better on your by yourself, and the idea of being surrounded by people who cared about you, even if it was just for Jeongin's sake, sounded perfect. "Okay," you said quietly. "I will come. "I will be there soon." It wasn't long before you arrived at Jeongin's parents' house, your heart racing with eagerness and your hands slightly trembling from the day's overpowering emotions. You'd made your decision, but now reality was hitting in.

What if it felt too awkward?

What if his family treated you like a charity case?

However, as you approached the door, you became uneasy, thinking whether you were making the correct decision. Before you could knock, the door flung open, and there stood Jeongin, looking more relieved than you had ever seen him. "Hey," he replied softly, moving forward with a kind smile on his face. His eyes were warm, but they also included a hint of apprehension, as if he had been waiting for this moment all day. "I'm so glad you're here."

Without thinking, you slipped into his arms, felt a weight lift off your shoulders. You hadn't realized how much you needed it until that very moment. His embrace engulfed you like a cocoon, and you felt tears well up in the back of your eyes. "I was so worried you'd spend the day alone," Jeongin muttered, his voice thick with emotion. "When I heard how sad you sounded earlier, I couldn't let you be alone. You mean everything to me, and I couldn't take the idea of you being sad this Christmas."

You sniffled, hugging him tighter, your chest full of love and relief. “I didn’t want to ruin anything for you. I didn’t want to be the one who made you feel bad, but I was… I was just so lonely.”

“I never wanted you to feel that way,” Jeongin said, pulling away slightly to look into your eyes. “I’m sorry. I should’ve made more of an effort. You’re the most important person in my life, and I should’ve known that we don’t need to do anything special except be together.”

You let out a small laugh, wiping away a tear from your cheek. “I know. I just… I don’t know. I was just missing you so much, and I wanted things to be perfect.”

Jeongin smiled softly and cupped your face, his thumb brushing against your cheek in the gentlest of gestures. “You don’t have to try so hard to make things perfect. You and me, we’re already perfect.”

He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “I love you. I’m so glad you came.”

As he led you inside, you felt a rush of warmth flood your body not just from the coziness of the house, but from the fact that you were with him. You weren’t alone anymore. You were with Jeongin and his family, and that was exactly what you needed.

Christmas was still special because, at the end of the day, the most important thing wasn’t the holiday or the presents or even the decorations. It was about being with the people who loved you, and in that moment, you had everything you needed.

//

nini’s notes

this was originally supposed to be jeongin meeting your family for the first time at a family christmas dinner but i discarded it because it wasn’t turning out good. 😅

[taglist: @lixies-favorite-cookie..]

[pleasantly-painful-fiction]

Most of my whumpees are either Japanese, unspecified, or not human. Two are white & French. Not sure how the younger one would identify though. Most of them live in alternate universes or a fantasy world, and some of them live in societies or time periods where skin color doesn't have much effect on a person's experiences, so it's not worth mentioning.

My favorite OC whumpee isn't human, but I still identify him as Japanese. His human parts look Japanese.

All my whumpees are male because I guess I just prefer to keep my fictional characters removed from myself in that way. But gender in their society isn't always viewed the same way or have a significant effect on one's life experiences. For some of the non-human characters, their species only has one gender/sex, or there's almost no physical or mental difference between the genders/sexes. I don't know. I like to create worlds and societies where skin color (for humans), sexuality, and gender aren't a big focus... or just keep it out of the story, so it's not always specified. Only side characters ever end up being straight though... oop?

honestly there needs to be more diversity in whump

mainly because i'm sick of hearing about people's cis white male whumpees HAVE SOME ORIGINALITY

when all your whumpees look the same its rly hard for me to care about any of them

if you have a main whumpee who isn't a cis white male pleaaase comment or reblog with some infodumping bc i'd love to hear about them!

[sunarots]

merry christmas, please don’t call

pairing: miya atsumu x gn!reader

Buzz.

Buzz.

Buzz.

You watch your phone vibrate across the kitchen counter for the third time tonight. His name is plastered across the screen in big, bold letters; the red hearts on either side stare at you accusingly. There’s only so many times you can justify your not answering before you question why his name never changed like your relationship status online.

Every time it rings, it’s like you hear his voice begging you to answer.

Pick up.

Pick up.

Pick up.

You reach out, your finger hovering above the button. Before you can bring yourself to hang up, the screen turns back to the recipe page. Oh.

You knew this year would be hard, your first Christmas separated from him. After so long together, you can’t help but feel out of place this year. It feels strange to not have him with you, ksneaking presents under the tree under the guise of watching Die Hard whilst you bake in the next room. Right now, though, he’d likely be pouring you both a glass of amazake, convincing you that one drink couldn’t hurt before both of you drink it all.

You pour your batter into the baking tray, shoving it in the oven and glad to have a break. You rise back onto your feet, glancing over to your phone.

Once again, his name appears.

Talk to me.

Talk to me.

Talk to me.

If Miya Atsumu is one thing, it’s persistent. He won’t stop, you know it. And though you’re stubborn, you know you won’t have a chance to relax tonight. So, you answer.

You hold the phone against your ear, listening to the silence on the line. When he doesn’t speak, a part of you regrets your choice. Putting your phone on do not disturb would have been a better solution, right?

“Y/n?”

You take a deep breath. It’s just talking. You’ve done this before. This should be easy, right? “Hi…”

“I didn’t think you’d answer.”

“Then why did you keep calling?” It slips out before you can stop it, a pang of guilt striking your chest.

“I-“ He takes a pause, thinking about his answer. “I wanted to hear your voice. I miss you.”

I miss you too, is what you want to say. But even with your mouth hung open, you can’t let it roll off your tongue as easy as you used to. It acts as a reminder. It’s for the best. Your wants don’t align, and they likely never will.

No matter how much you miss waking up beside him. Seeing his name constantly splashed across the news front page. Ignoring all notifications from social media, knowing the second his name comes into your eyesight you’ll be running back to him. As always.

But not this time. Not anymore.

“You can’t miss me.”

“What? I’m not allowed to miss my partner I’ve spent the last three years with?”

“I’m not your partner anymore, Atsumu,” you argue, already knowing this will end the same as the last call you answered.

No.

It can’t.

Before he can get another word in, you continue, “This isn’t easy for me either, but… We can’t do this anymore. We don’t want the same things in our future. Are you willing to compromise? Because I’m not.”

He starts stammering, unable to get a word out.

Walking through to your living room, your eyes fall to the empty couch. For once, you can’t picture him sitting there.

“Merry Christmas, Atsumu. Please don’t call.”

[casuallyobssessed]

Fairytales & Firesides - Bodyguard!John Wick x Fem!Reader ❥ 6.1k Words

A/N: My Keanuverse Secret Santa gift for @at-wicks-end, hosted by @97keanu ! I hope you love it! P.S. I don't live in an area that gets snow, sorry if this is inaccurate! 🫶🏼

Before You Read: bodyguard AU, fluff, canon typical violence/descriptions of violence, short-ish slow burn (I tried lol), angst, no beta, use of Y/N, :3c

gif creds to dalekinapaintedparadise - divider by bleachbambi

Archive of Our Own Link

Winter crashes into the mountains like a raging bull, forcing you inside for the foreseeable future. Sleet and snow dominate the weather forecast, rendering the outdoors dangerous in more ways than one. While the snow comes down, you could usually be found tucked away in your home library. Warm light from the fireplace bathes you in an orange and red glow as you curl up in your comfiest chair with one of your many books. This has always been your treasured safe space. 

At least, it was, until things with your uncle got more complicated. For a while now, you've been living in one of your uncle's mansions, kind of doing whatever you want. He allows you to stay there only because you promised to look after the place every winter when there aren't as many people around to help on the property due to the snowfall in the mountains. 

Your uncle, Diego, is into some pretty shady stuff. Gangs, drugs, secret societies? You name it, he has his fingers in it. Recently, Diego had some kind of drug deal gone bad with a very prestigious group of people involved. Since then, they've hired a hit on your uncle and any of your family that they can get their hands on. A distant cousin, one aunt, and your great grandfather have all fallen victim to revenge killings. Diego fears that you could be next since you live in one of his properties, so he's hired a selection of bodyguards for your protection.

Unfortunately, the newly hired muscle made your comfort space feel more like a prison. As silly as it might sound, you felt like a princess locked away in her secluded tower. Being a full grown adult, something like this seemed like overkill. You didn't need twenty four seven protection from everything that goes bump in the night, but you were dependent on Diego’s generosity, so you accepted his offer of security with gritted teeth. 

As the time passed, your bodyguards came and went. You never had the same one for more than a week at a time. Many of them were kind to you, and thankfully, only one of them had been a creep. They were promptly dealt with (according to Diego, anyway). 

It didn't take too long for daily life to start losing its spark. You plowed through a good portion of your books in the first couple of weeks. This prompted you to start writing your own book. Really, it was more of a journal documenting your experience, but who said it couldn't be both? 

The guards were usually your only contact with the outside world, so you appreciated your conversations with them. Trading stories of their heroic actions for your recounts of the fantasy books you had been reading, you were able to keep your imagination running wild and your notebooks full of ideas. 

After one particularly difficult week, Sunday rolled around and it was time for a new guard. You bid farewell to the previous one and patiently waited to meet the lucky new bodyguard. Diego would brief them on their duties before they were dispatched to your side. You just hope they were kinder than the last. 

Your newest guard is set to find you on the floor in your library, busy reviewing pieces of your story journal. The click of the door opening snatches you back to reality, turning your attention to the man entering your sanctuary. Standing up, you step over your journal and various papers scattered around the floor, and slowly walk over to where he stood. 

“Good Morning, Ms.Y/N,” His voice is as smooth as honey.

“It's nice to meet you,” You offer your hand and he takes it, giving it a firm shake, ”What's your name?” 

“John. I see that you're busy, I'll keep out of your way.” 

John looks past you, at the chaos spread about the room, and gives you a curt nod before assuming his post by the door. You return to work on your journal, hoping he doesn't notice the urgency in your writing as you occasionally steal glances at him, documenting the handsome new guard. 

John is not a bad looking man. He stands a good bit taller than you with slicked back, dark hair and a matching, well groomed beard. He has beautiful brown eyes that twinkle as though they hold the secrets to the universe. Maybe that last part is all in your head, but there's certainly something mysterious about this man that captivates you.

Out of your way is where John stays for the next couple of days, quiet and mostly indifferent to your presence. He followed you whenever you left your library but kept a distance either in front or behind you. At night, he sat on the couch in the far corner of your room. Under normal circumstances, it would have made you too uneasy to have someone watching you sleep, but after weeks of constant surveillance, you were used to it. 

Come the third day, you are determined to break the ice with him. Two days of no conversation other than one word responses was driving you mad. It never took this long for a guard to warm up to you. So, you decide that you are going to try your best to get some kind of response out of him. 

Small talk definitely isn't going to work. This man is clearly not one to gossip or discuss the weather with. Your first attempt is to ask him about current events. ‘What's the world like out there right now? Anything important happening that I should know about?’ You're met with only a shrug and a small, well meaning smile. Strike one. 

Next, you try asking him about himself and his home life. ‘Have anyone at home missing you while you're busy here? Do you have any pets?’ Unfortunately, these questions don't receive much of a response either, not even so much as a shrug. The look in his eyes hardened after the first question, though. You figure it's best not to push it. Strike two. 

For your last attempt, you decide to ask him if he has any interesting stories about jobs he's had in the past. This was a common question you had for your guards as their answers would usually help inspire your writing. ‘Do you have any cool action stories or experiences you could share? I can tell you about some of the books I've been reading in exchange!’ Finally, John looks at you with somewhat of an amused expression on his face. It's the most emotion you've gotten out of him, so far, but he doesn't say anything. Strike three. You're out! 

…Or are you? 

John shifts on his feet before clearing his throat to speak, “I suppose there are a few I could share with you.” 

“Awesome. Let me grab my notebook,” you say incredibly calmly, desperate not to give away your excitement. Mentally, you're doing a celebratory victory dance. 

-

For hours, you two trade stories. His were outlandish, but true. Each story is more nail bitingly exciting than the last. Yours range from the worst romance novels you've ever read, to the best fantasy books you have shelved in your library. You filled half your journal with wonderful ideas thanks to John. And on top of that, it seems like he is getting more comfortable with talking to you. It's an overall win-win for you. 

That night, you become keenly aware of John in the corner of your room, reading one of the books you suggested to him. You're not sure what changed, but you feel very differently about having him here. Sure, you feel protected, but something inside you has started to feel warm and gooey knowing he's always nearby. Maybe you just need a good night's rest. It's been a long day. You snuggle up underneath your comforter and drift off to sleep. 

The next morning you wake yourself up from tossing and turning. You can't catch your breath, you're completely flushed, and your heart is racing. It takes a moment, but suddenly your dream from last night comes flooding back and you're blushing like a schoolgirl. 

You had a dream about John. Oh God. Your cheeks must be burning bright red from embarrassment. Looking over at John, he is seemingly still asleep. His eyes are closed, head leaned back, arms crossed on his chest, and legs spread wide. You wonder what would happen if you were to crawl between those long legs and… Nope! Nuh uh! Shaking the rogue thoughts from your head, you promptly get out of bed and make your way to the bathroom. You need a cold shower, pronto. 

Upon returning from your shower, John was finally awake, reading the same book from the night before. Realizing you’re back and wearing only a towel, John excuses himself and steps outside the door to wait for you to change. 

You don't know how you're supposed to face him, but you know that the thoughts you're having aren't fair towards him. John has been completely professional with you while he's been here and it would be inappropriate of you to cross that line. 

Getting dressed quickly, you pick out a pair of plaid pajama pants and a long sleeved shirt. Never leaving the house has some perks. You rarely have to get dressed up in stiff, fancy clothes unless you really want to. Days like today, you can lounge around in pajamas with no consequence. 

Once you’re finished dressing, you leave your room and briskly walk past John without a word. You don't necessarily want to be cold towards him, but until you get a grip on yourself, it's probably better that way. 

John dutifully follows you back to the library and posts up by the door. You tend to the fireplace, rekindle it as needed, and then plop yourself onto the bench next to the window adjacent to the hearth. Frost is crawling up the edges of the window, obscuring your view only slightly. As you stare out into the wintry wonderland, you try your best not to think about John and the contents of your dream. 

Instead, you focus on the snowflakes as they dance down from the sky in a flurry and collect on the ground below. With how soft the snow looks, you have no trouble imagining yourself making the perfect snow angel, right in the front yard. You're not sure if going out there is the best idea, given the weather and the unpredictable danger, but a little freedom might just be what you need right now.

Maybe if you move fast enough, you could get past John and escape outside. It was worth a shot. You nonchalantly rise up from the bench and silently shuffle back to your room. John trails along behind you, looking moderately confused. You hurriedly shut the bedroom door, accidentally closing it in his face.

“Sorry, John! Give me a minute, I'm changing again,” You call out.

A muffled ‘Okay’ can be heard as you dig through your closet looking for your puffy winter coat. You find it half shoved in the back corner, dangling precariously on its hanger. After pulling your coat on, you slide into your snow boots, wriggle your fingers into your gloves, and head towards the front door. 

As fate would have it, a big coat and snow boots are not the smartest choices when you're trying to move fast. You make it as far as the foyer, reaching for the door handle before he stops you. So much for keeping your distance from him today. 

“Ms. Y/N, where do you think you're going?” John grabs your arm tightly enough to keep you in place. You try shrugging him off, but he's got too strong of a grip on you. 

“Outside. I want to see the snow.”

“You can see the snow from in here,” He responds as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. 

“I want to feel it, John. I want to remember what it's like to breathe fresh air.” 

“It's my job to keep you safe. Inside,” He replies sternly.

“I'm going out and you are not going to stop me,” You spit back at him, putting your foot down. 

John reluctantly lets you go and takes a step back. He considers you for a moment before he speaks again.

“Fine. Diego won't be pleased, but at least let me put on my coat.” 

You oblige his request and wait for him patiently until he returns wearing his heavy, black coat. Though you do feel a little bad for how you spoke to him, you don't regret it. You have been cooped up in this house for far too long. 

John insists on stepping outside first to make sure it's clear before allowing you to follow him. The second you cross the threshold, cold, crisp air hits your face and you breathe a sigh of relief. Being inside all the time gets incredibly stuffy and winter isn't the ideal time to be opening windows to air things out. You stare up into the sky as snowflakes land on your face, only to melt against your skin. 

Everything is still and quiet. From the house to the trees, it's a peaceful, untouched spread of snow, give or take a few sparse animal tracks. Off to the side, John is watching you and your surroundings with a sharp eye.

You trudge around in the snow looking for the best place to make your masterpiece. Just in front of the windows to the library, you find the perfect spot. 

Without another thought, you fall back into the snow, moving your arms and legs to create the shape of a snow angel. You feel as giddy as a kid, smiling ear to ear and laughing like a fool. Who knew something as simple as playing in the snow could make you feel so happy, so free? 

“John, come on! Make a snow angel with me. Please?” You’re begging him to have some fun with you even though half an hour ago you were plotting how you could avoid him indefinitely. 

His footsteps crunch in the snow until he's standing over you with a smile almost as wide as yours as you look up at him. You feel as though the heavens have opened up and you're staring directly at an angel. The frost nipping at your nose pales in comparison to the heat bursting inside your chest. 

He solemnly shakes his head at you, “I can't, I'm sorry.”  

You stay like that for a bit until the cold from the snow starts to overwhelm you through your coat and pajama pants, sending chills down your spine. You stand up from the ground to admire your handiwork. It's a solid outline if you ignore John's big footprints in the snow above the head. You decide it's an easy eight out of ten.

Satisfied with your creation, you move on to your next activity. You scoop up a handful of snow and pat it into a ball in your hands. Luckily for you, John is turned away, distracted by something off in the distance near the trees. Now’s the perfect chance to strike. 

You wind up your arm and toss the snowball at him, smacking him squarely between the shoulder blades. Pumping your fist in the air, you holler out a loud ‘Yes!’

You hear an exasperated sigh come from John, and quickly, you realize you may have messed up and taken things too far. 

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-” Your apology is cut off by John whipping around, grabbing a fistful of snow, forming it hastily in his hands, and then throwing it at you, landing in the center of your chest. 

Stunned, you let out a loud laugh before returning fire. John obviously has the better aim of you two. Missing every other shot was an improvement for you, while he was landing every hit flawlessly.

Unsurprising to you, John ends up as the winner of the snowball fight. You gave up once your stomach started rumbling and you realized that you hadn't eaten any breakfast yet. Hungry and defeated, you head back inside with your bodyguard in tow.

In the foyer, you strip off your coat, gloves, and boots, tossing them to the side. You had plenty of time to worry about them later. John hangs his coat up carefully on the coat rack and turns to you expectantly. 

“Thank you for going out there with me. That was a lot of fun,” You exclaim while rubbing your hands together to bring back the feeling in them. 

“It can't happen again, but you're welcome,” He looks genuinely sorry. 

“I know,” You understand the danger, but you wish things were different, “Are you hungry? I can make us some mean pancakes.” 

“Sure, Ms. Y/N,” Once again, John is smiling at you and it's enough to ignite even the coldest parts of you. There was no way on earth you could keep trying to avoid him when he made you feel this way with just a smile.

-

Breakfast went off without a hitch. Well, there may have been a minor hitch involving the pancake batter, but John stepped in and saved the day. He ended up offering to take over the process entirely, and you agreed. That gave you a chance to watch him do something besides stand still and look all serious.  

Once you’re done eating and all the breakfast dishes are clean, you scurry back to your library with John right behind you. Your journal and miscellaneous papers are still spread around the floor from the night before. John had really given you some wonderful stories to fuel your imagination, and now it's time to incorporate them into your book. 

By the door, John stands perfectly still, aside from the sly glances he throws your way. Seeing him stand over there by himself tugged at your heartstrings a bit after the eventful morning you've had. It suddenly felt very selfish to have someone on their feet, at attention, all day and night just for you. From your seat on the floor, you gesture to the chair right beside you.

“You can sit down if you want. I'm sure you can still protect me from any threats just as well over here.”

“Thank you for the offer, Ms. Y/N, but it's in your best interest if I stay here.”

“Are you sure?” You think for a moment and then continue, “What if I said I felt way more safe with you sitting next to me?” 

John gives you a hint of a smile before quickly resuming his professional poker face, “I really shouldn't… but if it makes you feel safer, I guess I can do that.” 

You lean over and pat the cushion of your comfy chair, encouraging him to sit. He makes his way over to you and sits in your chair, sinking down into it like it was made for him. After a few minutes of sitting together in silence as you worked, you begin to wonder when the last time he was truly able to relax was. 

“Hey John?” You look up at him, journal in hand.

“Mhm?” His voice thick with unease as he looks down at you.

“Can I read you some of what I have written so far? Will you tell me what you think?” 

“Sure.” 

Ever so slowly, John starts to truly relax as he listens to you. He spreads his legs just so and lets his shoulders ease back into a comfortable position, listening to you intently as you tell him your story enthusiastically. You stop occasionally to get his opinion on a set of dialogue or how a sentence is phrased and he's more than happy to advise you. By the end of the day with him, you've completely filled another notebook and you've fallen totally head over heels for John. 

-

The next few days pass by in a blur. John assists you in nearly completing your book, lets you sneak outside again (a couple, glorious times), and he even makes breakfast for you on Saturday morning. 

On Saturday evening, knowing that he'll have to leave soon, you convince him to have a movie night with you by letting him pick whatever movie he wants. You make a huge bowl of popcorn for the occasion and get settled on the couch while John peruses your Uncle's movie collection. He decides on an obscure western you've never heard of, and settles onto the couch, leaving one seat's worth of space between you for the popcorn bowl. 

Subconsciously, you wish he was sitting closer, but you'll have to settle for accidentally touching hands while reaching for popcorn at the same time. 

So far, the movie is a total snoozefest. You wouldn't dare say that to John, considering he seems to be enjoying it. If it weren't for his proximity to you keeping your heart racing, you definitely would have nodded off by now. Surprisingly quickly you run out of popcorn, so you set the bowl on the coffee table to get it out of the way and break down that final barrier between you and John. 

Half way through the movie, you find yourself scooting inches closer to John. You hope he doesn't notice, but something about him just has a magnetic pull that draws you in effortlessly. 

-

Now three fourths of the way through the movie, you start to feel brave. Taking notice of how lonely his hand looks resting on his thigh, you make the bold move to place your hand over his during a particularly high action scene. His hand is warm against yours and the feeling sends tingles through your fingertips. 

You're pleasantly surprised when John doesn't shrug you off, but instead looks over at you with a small smile, before lacing his fingers with yours. Your heart is thumping inside your chest as he gives your hand a squeeze, but you're sure it's going to explode when he lets go of your hand to pull you into his lap. 

Your senses are overwhelmed as you get a light whiff of the warm spice of his cologne as you lean in close, taking all of him in. His hands are gently holding your hips as you wrap your arms around his neck. You look to him for silent permission before closing the gap between you, pressing your lips against his. The feeling in the air is positively electric as his lips meet yours. 

-

The two of you stay like that for what feels like hours. John's the one who breaks away from you first, looking absolutely debauched. His hair is slightly tousled, cheeks and lips are brushed red, and the lustful look in his eye is burning a hole right through to your center. 

It's him who decides to ignore the tenting in his pants and politely recommends that you go to bed. As much as it kills you to do so, you reluctantly peel yourself off of him and go straight to your room to take another painfully cold shower. 

Your entire night is filled with another round of tossing and turning mixed with racy dreams featuring your bodyguard, who never finds his way into your room throughout the night. You assume he's keeping watch from the living room, only slightly neglecting his duties of having an eye on you at all times. 

-

Saying goodbye to John the next morning may have been one of the most difficult things you've ever had to do. No amount of begging or tears could have changed Diego's mind. ‘Getting attached to these people is like falling in love with a mutt you know you can't keep. They're here for your protection, Y/N, not for you to play with.’ His words stung. Even if it was the truth, you didn't want to hear it.

With tears in your eyes, you watch through one of the library windows as John's car retreats down the driveway. The hole in your chest feels massive, like it’s destined to swallow you whole if you aren't careful. Holding yourself tight, you curl up in your comfy chair and cry. It's the only thing you can muster the energy for. 

-

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!

You're startled awake from your sleep by loud, insistent thuds of the brass door knocker echoing throughout the otherwise silent house. You're not sure how long you’ve been out for, but the sun has gone down and the only light left is coming from the crackling embers in the fireplace. Rubbing your eyes, you drag your feet to the front door and open it without thinking twice.

Standing on the other side is a wall of a man. He has to be taller than John by at least half a foot, and twice as wide. He's wearing a simple black suit, not unlike something one of your bodyguards would wear during their time here. That must be it, he’s the newest guard hired by Diego. Since you had been asleep, you haven't checked your phone yet to see if you had any missed calls from him.

“Y/N, I assume?” His voice sounds like gravel, in an unpleasant sort of way. It lands roughly on your ears and makes you wince.

“That would be me. Did Diego send you?” 

The man ignores your question and gestures towards the foyer, “Can I come in? It's freezing out here.”

“Uh, yeah, sorry, come on in.”

As you step back to allow him through, he slams a massive hand against the door, knocking it wide open and shoving you harshly onto the floor. Before you can make sense of what's going on, he's got a hand in your hair, dragging you further into the house. 

You kick and scream as he lugs you down the hall and into one of the spare bedrooms. You try digging your nails into the back of his hand but he doesn't seem affected by the pain as he picks you up off the floor and tosses you onto the bed. The second he lets go of your hair, you scramble off the bed and towards the door. In a flash, the man grabs you by the ankles and drags you back over to the bed. 

This time, when he chunks you on the mattress, he produces a gun from his waistband and places the cold barrel directly against your forehead.

“Don't move again or I'm gonna blow your fuckin’ brains out.” 

Your eye twitches as you stare at him, afraid to even blink. He puts the gun back in his waistband and reaches into a pocket inside of his suit jacket. Out of his it, he pulls a pair of shiny metallic handcuffs. 

You're tempted to make another run for it, but you recall the feeling of his gun against your skin and you decide better of it. He grabs one of your wrists and slaps a cuff onto it, and when he reaches for your other wrist, you snatch it away. 

This appears to be your second mistake of the night. The man rears back and slaps you harder than you've ever felt before. 

“Stop acting like a brat,” He hisses at you. 

Tears well up in the corners of your eyes as pain shoots through the side of your face. You barely register it as he successfully grabs your hand and places the remaining cuff around your wrist a little too tightly. The cuffs dig into your skin painfully, taking your mind off of the pounding in your head.

The mystery man paces around the room checking the windows and shutting the bedroom door before stopping in front of you. He places a hand on your shoulder and clears his throat to speak. 

“All right, listen. Here's how this is gonna go. When I get the go ahead from my Boss, I'm gonna kill you. Until then, we wait.” 

You shrug his hand off your shoulder and your brain starts to spiral into full blown panic mode. There's no way you can muscle your way out of this. You could try playing the money card, he might fall for it. 

“You don't have to do this. Do you want money? My uncle can pay you double whatever your boss is paying. Call him, I'm sure he-” The man presses a finger to your lips, shutting you up. 

“Stop talking.” 

With that, he goes back to pacing around the room, occasionally checking his phone for that green light to take you out. Your mind races a million miles an hour as you pull against the handcuffs, knowing you can't slip out of them. Sniffles fill the room while your eyes start watering again. The man gives you a disgusted look as your breathing quickens and your lip trembles. 

“Are you really crying right now? Give me a fuckin’ break. This is just business. Eye for an eye type deal,” He snarls before going back to the window.

“Shit. Shit!” 

He sees something he clearly doesn't like, and backs away from the window. In a huff, he's grabbing your arm, and snatching you off of the bed. You resist, pulling away from him and stumbling backwards. The man growls before charging at you, grabbing your waist, and hoisting you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. 

“Put me down!” You scream and pound your fists against his back to no avail.

With his other hand, he pulls out his cell phone and makes a call that goes unanswered. He hastily leaves the bedroom and carries you down the hall, heading towards the kitchen. You try to grab everything you can as you pass by to try and slow him down: the walls, picture frames, even a curio cabinet that only topples over and smashes, littering the floor with glass. Unaffected by your attempts, he stops in front of the back door, overlooking the patio. 

“Hope you like the cold,” He grumbles and opens the door, cold air blasting into the house. 

Not giving you a chance to resist this time, he walks out into the snow and tosses you on the ground, landing you hard in the snow. 

“Get up, come on,” He's got his gun out again, pointed directly at you, “Towards the trees. Go!”

You try to collect yourself to stand up, but you're shaking so bad that you can barely keep your balance on your bare feet. Lacking the patience to wait for you to get a grip, he tucks an arm underneath yours and starts dragging you along again. 

The cold bites against the skin around your cuffed wrists. Your feet are so painfully frozen, they almost feel warm as you try to keep up with the man holding a gun to your head. 

It's a long walk to the tree line and by the time you make it there, you can't feel your feet or hands anymore. Your pajama bottoms are soaked through from the snow and you're convinced there's no possible way you can take another step, so you don't. You collapse at the base of the nearest tree, slipping out of his grip. 

“Any last words?” The man raises his pistol to your head once more, “I'll make this quick.”

As you look up at him, your attention is drawn to the black outline of a figure running through the snow behind him, about halfway between the house and the trees. Your brows furrow in confusion, prompting the man to turn around and follow your gaze. 

“What the fu-” You watch in disbelief as a sickening splatter of blood, bone, and brain matter explodes from one side of his head, tainting the bright white snow with a glistening red. All that can be heard besides your own heavy breathing is the loud crack echoing against the mountains. The light disappears from his eyes as his body crumples beneath him, landing with a soft crunch as the snow packs down underneath. 

You'd scream if you could feel any part of your body, but the best you can do is screw your eyes shut and hope you're not next. Your tears freeze against your cheeks as you cry and hold your arms as close to your body as you can for warmth, even if it's futile. 

Not long after, you hear fast approaching footsteps stomping through the snow, headed right your way. 

“Y/N?!” Your eyes snap open. You know that voice. 

“J-J-” With how bad your teeth are chattering, it's hard to speak. 

In an instant, John is in front of you, pulling off his coat to wrap around you. He crouches down to eye level with you and places both hands on your cheeks, looking at you, his deep, brown eyes are full of concern. 

“Are you alright? Did he hurt you?”

You're not sure how to answer that question without crying even harder, so you just lift your hands up to show him the cuffs digging into your wrists. He seemingly understands what you're trying to say and turns towards the unmoving heap of a man on the ground. He searches through the man's pockets, pulling out a wallet, a cell phone, car keys, and finally, the keys to the handcuffs. John unlocks the cuffs quickly and tosses them into the snow beside you before gently rubbing the sore areas around your wrists. 

“Let's get you inside, hm?”

You nod eagerly and try to stand up with him, but you can't feel your legs and you end up losing your balance again, almost toppling over into the snow. Thankfully, John catches you before you hit the ground. 

“I c-can't-”

“Shh, I've got you. Hold on to me,” He reassures you. 

With that, John is placing your arm around his neck and picking you up bridal style. The walk back to the house seems even longer and colder than before. You hug his neck tightly as he carries you, hoping that your shaking doesn't bother him too much.

-

John carries you into the house, past the broken glass and snow that's blown in from the open doors, not stopping until he reaches your safe space, your library. He sets you down in your comfy chair and kneels down while holding your hand. 

“We have to get you out of these wet clothes, is that okay?” His tone is soft and sweet, yet urgent. 

Again, you nod and let him help you out of your freezing, wet pajamas. He starts with your bottoms, tucking his fingers under the waistband and pulling them down your legs. Next, he pushes the coat he gave you off your shoulders and carefully helps you lift your arms up to slide off your shirt. He dumps them in a soggy pile on the floor next to your chair.

“I'll be right back,” He pats your knee comfortingly before leaving the library.

You sit alone and shivering for a minute until John returns with a big, fluffy blanket. 

“Do you think you can take your underwear off by yourself?”

You look at him with wide eyes and then down at your hands. With how bad they are still shaking, and the fact you only kind of have feeling in them now, you aren't sure what you could do by yourself. 

“I'll help you. I won't look, just wrap yourself up in this.”

John wraps the blanket around the front of your body, then reaches around behind you to unclasp your bra and places it on top of your shirt in the pile. He kneels down again and reaches beneath the blanket, slowly pulling off your underwear and dropping them on top of your bra. You can feel your cheeks heating up from embarrassment, and you're glad at least some part of you seems to be warming up. 

Now that you're free from the clutches of the wet clothes, John turns away from you to relight the fireplace. While he's occupied, you pull the blanket around your shoulders and hold it closed in front of you, still partially numb to the fact that it was John who came to save you and you did not die back there. 

When he's finished with the fireplace, John comes back over and kneels on the floor in front of you, grabbing your hand and holding it tightly, like you'd float away if he lets you go. He still bears a twinkle of concern in his eyes but he doesn't say anything else. Together, you sit quietly, thawing out your extremities and regaining some of your composure. 

You’re first to break the silence once you're feeling properly warm again. 

“You came back?” You whisper.

“Of course I did, Y/N. I couldn't stay away.”

[stqrryeyez]

Manicure

pairing: Captain John Price x gen!Reader warnings: nothing!! just fluff and possibly ooc Price(?). I haven't written anything in two years, so this has a high possibility of being awfullll synopsis: taking care of your husband by painting his nails. 1.3k words.

“I would sweetheart, but you know I can't.” he states. Which was fair. You understood it was a shot in the dark question, just a sliver of hope that he’d agree. You’d expected this response anyway, not that Price’s masculinity was that fragile - far from. Painted nails just wouldn’t suit his line of work and wouldn't suit his general aesthetic.

You dropped the whole conversation, forgetting about it until the next time you got around to painting your own nails. Clear polish. It wouldn’t violate any of his dress codes or interrupt his image, but he still got that little bit of time to relax and get taken care of, rather than just him taking care of you, on top of all the paperwork he had stacked up on his desk. You wanted to treat him, take his mind off his seemingly unending workload for a while. 

 It was just past 10PM when you had caught him, the sun now firmly set and the moonlight glimmering through the still open blinds of his office, the only other light illuminating the room was the Scheele’s green banker’s lamp at the corner of his desk. The amber light highlighted the dark circles he was sporting, his head resting in one hand whilst he scribbled away at the pages with the other. He was glaringly obviously overworking himself, to the point of exhaustion. You couldn't help but feel sympathetic for him, witnessing the state he was in was heartbreaking.

 “John?” 

“Yes, love?” he replies, moving his head to look at you, quickly wiping the tiredness out of his left eye, his gaze holding admiration and pure love for you. 

 “How long are you going to be? I have something I think you might like.” you question, not wanting to disturb him too much, but in the same breath, hoping he was nearly done so that you could finally spend some time with him, take care of him for once.

 “Give me fifteen minutes sweetheart, then ‘m all yours for the rest of the night.” 

 Within the fifteen-minute wait (which only ended up being ten due to your husband’s impatience), you settled on the sofa, the little bottle of nail polish on the side table, yours and John’s favourite tv show on in the background, focusing on that until he was done.

 At his call of “Love?”, you patter back into his office, carrying a nail file and the little bottle of clear polish, just hoping he’d agree this time. You hid the items behind your back, sitting down in the seat on the opposite side of the sturdy, walnut desk he slaved hours of his life away over.

 “So, I know you said you didn’t want me to paint your nails because of work, but I have an idea if you’ll hear me out.” you offer, waiting for his response.

 “Go on…” He adjusted himself in his seat, encouraging you to continue, indicating that he might not be against the idea, just that he needed to know what you were planning.

 “Found this whilst I was cleaning the other day,” you say, taking out the nail polish and showing him, putting it on the desk for him to inspect. “Clear polish. Doesn’t affect your style or your job, and it tastes like shit so you might be able to stop biting your nails so often.” You knew he had a nasty habit of doing that when he was anxious, so to be able to minimise that would benefit him greatly.

 John studies the bottle for a little longer, holding it up towards the light, his brow furrowed in that way he always did when he was thinking. He nods subtly, handing the bottle back to you approvingly and holding his hands out palms down, not saying a word.

 “You want to talk about what’s vexing you?” you ask, angling the light over his hands so you could get the best view of what you were doing. As he lets out a heavy sigh, he begins to talk about work, something about “Laswell’s got me workin’ around the clock.”, and “So much fuckin’ training next week, there’s a mission being sorted in Afghanistan with Sheperd, so need to be prepped for that.”

Nodding along with his drawl, putting some words of advice in when you felt was necessary, you filed his nails down to a uniform length, making sure they all matched each other, smoothing out the nail beds, eliminating the top layer of his nail so the polish would stay on for longer. 

His calloused hands in yours were heavy, grounding, solid, yet his touch was feather-light, gentle, silk. Eventually, the conversation petered off into silence, the sound of both your breaths encapsulating your hearing, the steady rise and fall of his chest just in your eyeline as you opened the bottle of polish and began to coat his nails with the liquid.

You start from his left pinky, his hands curled perfectly around your own, easily manipulated by your touch, silent commands you mutually understood. Half-lidded brown eyes struggle to stay open when you look back up at his face, cleaning a little excess polish that spilled over onto the lateral nail fold of his fingers with your thumb. His cerulean irises latched onto yours, the adoration in his eyes evident in the way he looked at you.

Focusing back on his hands, you complete the final swatch on the right pinky, recapping the bottle, then hooking his fingers over your hands, blowing gently on the polish to dry them quicker. “Fifteen minutes and they’ll be fully dry. Sofa?” you ask, wanting to move out of his office to somewhere a little more comfortable, get the man out his space and into yours at least once today. Watching him nod softly, you arise from your chair, opening the door for John. 

“Ladies first,” you giggle, making your husband laugh, the rumble from deep within his chest finally emerging. You hadn’t heard him laugh properly in days but it felt like it could've been a lifetime without. The sound of his laugh could have cured the worst of diseases just upon hearing, seeing the way his eyes got those little crow's feet round the corners and his top lip disappeared into his moustache made him look as if he was glowing, like he was radiating pure gold. 

Following him into the living room, you watch as he plops down onto the sofa, desperately trying not to smudge his nails on the fabric of the throw cushions. You place yourself down in his lap, his hands hovering awkwardly over your shoulders, your back against his chest. You take one of his hands in yours, blowing cold air gently on his nails to dry the polish faster, just wanting him to get comfortable. Whilst waiting, you put on the newest episode of the tv show the two of you were watching together, sinking your body into his. 

Finally, you feel his hands come to rest in your hair, trusting his judgement that his nails were dry, his nails running over your scalp. The constant, rhythmic motion of his hands circling your head were like a silent lullaby, restoring comfort that you hadn’t felt in months since he’d been away on missions. It didn't take long for you to fall asleep in his arms, the unfaltering rise and fall of his chest and the ever-present warmth of his body encapsulating yours working better than any sleeping pill ever would. 

However, just before the realm of slumber consumed you, you felt a light kiss to the crown of your skull and a hushed “Thank you, love,” in your ear.