#this ask was sitting in my drafts for like a month i fucking forgot about it 💀

[cloneshipping-collector]

Hi, I have a question about cloneshipping. Are clones x clones ships the most common ships for clones? I mean, I see a lot of people shipping clones between them but I also see a lot of rexsoka, codywan, blyla. The other thing is that I also see a lot of antis complaining about clone x clone. Are we a minority?

we do seem to be a minority unfortunately, likely because of how taboo “incest” is (i personally don’t see it that way in this case, but all these characters are fictional so idgaf lmao)

clones x their commanders are definitely the most common type of ship that i see at least

[ariascoven]

⟡ LOST BUNNY PT.2

PAIRING : salem!agatha harkness x reader

CONTENT / WARNINGS : female reader. petnames (bunny, dear, darling). soft agatha. mentions of homophobia.

WORD COUNT : 4.3k

A/N : sorry for not posting for i-don't-know-how-long, i hate everything i write these days lmao this has been sitting on my drafts for ages until i decided to let it out of the cave. i mostly have the energy to make bots as they're waayyyy shorter than fics so i end up making a bunch, sorry

MY MASTERLIST | PART ONE | C.AI BOT

The sound of birds happily chirping filled your ears the moment you stepped outside of your small, humble little home while carrying your picnic basket. Your mother had asked you to go fetch some apples for the pie she planned on making. Somehow, she managed to get all the ingredients needed beforehand, but forgot the damned apples — for an apple pie. At least you knew where your forgetful nature came from.

As you wandered through the woods in silence, you couldn't help but remember your first and last encounter with Agatha Harkness. A hidden, secret part of you buried deep within your being hoped, perhaps even wished that you would bump into the witch again, but your dreams never became reality. During every mind clearing stroll you took at night, your eyes darted around anxiously, scanning the surroundings and trying to find the brunette with a smug grin on her face, her pretty face illuminated by the moonlight and stars above. If anyone saw you in that state, they would assume you were afraid of what lurked in the dark, when in reality you were looking for Salem’s most feared witch.

It was ridiculous, to say the least. Months had passed ever since the unexpected meeting occured, it was now summer and the snow you had stepped on in the company of the young witch had melted completely ages ago. But the feeling of her hands on your waist seemed to have burned onto your skin, making it impossible to forget the warmth of her touch. You could still feel her, hear her... hell, you could still smell her. You often tried to convince yourself that she had put a spell on you that day, and that you were not absolutely smitten. But you knew the truth, no matter how much you didn't want to admit it — you were utterly fucked. You had met her once and had a brief conversation that was infuriating, to say the least, and that was enough to make you fall. Well, she also gave you a coat.

It might be important to note that your plan to make up an excuse about the piece of clothing to tell your mother failed completely. You weren't able to come up with anything before you reached the worn out door of your house, where you were met with the familiar sight of an upset old lady that noticed her daughter was missing from the warmth of her bed hours ago and decided to wait for the rebellious creature and demand an explanation. You had no friends, so you couldn't say it was a gift from one. For obvious reasons, you couldn't say you had bought it yourself as your mother knew that in your condition, buying a great coat like the one you had on was nothing but an impossible, silly dream.

So you had no choice but tell her the truth you wished to keep hidden, all of it. You spent almost a whole hour sitting on a chair, your head downcast shamefully as your mother scolded you, her voice laced with nothing but pure disappointment and annoyance. “She's a witch, for God's sake! She killed her own mother and the rest of her coven! Why would you even look her way? And even more accept this so-called gift?” However, she allowed you to keep the coat, knowing it was warmer and better quality than your entire wardrobe combined. Filled with guilt and shame, you gave your dear old mother a kiss on the forehead and assured her you would keep your distance if you ever stumbled upon the witch again. What a lie.

Crouched down picking a few berries you had found, you hummed a random tune you had never heard before. The berries were not what your mother had asked of you, but you shrugged it off, allowed to easily fetch the apples afterwards. The basket was big enough to fit all without a problem, and extra fruit was never a problem — you were sure your mother would be excited to make something out of the berries, anyway. You let out a satisfied hum at the amount you had picked, ascending from the crouching position. When you turned around, a yelp escaped your lips the moment you saw her. “Agatha!” Your eyes were comically wide as you exclaimed, face growing warmer at the realization you weren't even able to try and hide your excitement.

“Hello, bunny. You seem pleased to see me.” God, the way you missed her voice was nothing but pathetic. You let out a huff and rolled your eyes in a failed attempt to seem unbothered, but unfortunately, you were not an actress. A smirk appeared on the brunette’s face when she took notice of the subtle pink dusting your cheeks. “Ah, there is no need to respond. Not with that adorable blush saying everything.” When you looked up at her, your bottom lip was curled up ever so slightly, forming an adorable pout that made Agatha feel unwanted things — the flutter in her stomach being one of them, for example.

She stepped closer to you until the tips of your boots were touching hers, hand reaching up to rub her thumb across your bottom lip in a gentle caress. Almost instinctively and definitely against your will, your mouth fell open at the touch. You wished you could pull away and keep your distance from her, there was nothing you wished more. But something about the young woman pulled you in like a moth to a flame — a dangerously enchanting flame that made you crave more of its touch, no matter how much it threatened to burn and swallow you whole.

“How did you find me?” Your question came out as a breathless sound and you cursed yourself mentally at the poor attempt to hide the undeniable shakiness in your voice. Your knuckles hurt from the way you were gripping the basket as you tried to mask how much you were trembling — and you weren't entirely sure why. Maybe from excitement. Maybe from anxiety. Maybe from a mix of both. You noticed the way Agatha’s gaze seemed to search for yours more and more insistently the longer you avoided eye contact. She opened her mouth to respond with what you expected to be another snarky remark of hers, but she faltered, mouth quickly closing.

However, she didn't take much time to compose herself, that wicked and familiar grin returning to her lips and sending shivers down your spine. Considering how surprisingly hot the weather was during the summer, Agatha’s fingers remained cold as she tilted your chin up — freezing, even. And exactly the way you remembered them to be. You lost count of how many times you had harshly rubbed your sponge against the places she had touched on your body during your long baths, trying everything and anything you possibly could to make the memories disappear from your mind. But you kept thinking back at it whenever the chance appeared and you were ashamed to admit, even to yourself, how much you wanted her.

Considering how hot it was during the summer, Agatha’s fingers remained surprisingly cold as she tilted your chin up — freezing, even. Exactly the way you remembered. You lost count of how many times you harshly rubbed your sponge on the places she had touched on your body during your baths, trying everything and anything you possibly could to make the memories disappear from your mind. But you kept thinking back at it whenever the chance appeared. Before bed, waking up, while taking strolls around the town but mostly, in the woods you had your first meeting at. You were ashamed to admit, even to yourself, how much you wanted her.

“What? You think I found you because I wanted to?” She replied, the mocking evident in the tone of her voice and her raised eyebrow. With the proximity between your faces, you could almost taste the sarcasm that dripped from her lips. “It was simply a funny coincidence, my dear.” Your eyes scanned her face for any signs of honesty and widened the moment she leaned closer, her nose touching yours. The only thing you were able to do was hold your breath and anticipate her next move.

There was no way she was going to kiss you, right? Although the answer was pretty much clear, you couldn't help the flicker of disappointment that flashed through your eyes when all she did was chuckle low in her throat and pull away, taking a few steps backwards to put some sort of distance between your bodies. It was funny, the way you wanted that distance so badly at first but now it brought a frown so big to your face that missing it wasn't even a possibility.

Your eyes followed her gaze as she glanced down and towards the basket your hands were clutching. Or rather, the fingers that were a deep shade of red, knuckles turning white from the sheer force you put into holding the small object out of nervousness without even realizing it. You hadn't even realized the way you could barely feel your hands due to the gesture. You let out a loud groan full of frustration, deciding it was a better idea to hang it onto your arm instead of gripping it. Agatha’s curious (or rather, nosy) eyes focused on the content inside of the basket. “Berries…” She muttered quietly, and you weren't sure if she meant for you to hear it.

“Yes, berries.” You repeated as you eyed her curiously, her gaze never faltering from the fruits. It should be illegal to say Agatha Harkness looked adorable, but she did. Her unusual demeanor and sparkling eyes made you tilt your head aside as if the simple gesture would help you solve the current mystery — why would an evil witch become so seemingly excited over some stupid berries? You clicked your tongue in thought before grabbing a few and putting your hand out. “Do you…?” You don't finish the sentence, instead looking at your palm then back at Agatha as you trailed off. There was a pause. Then, she nodded, snatching the fruits from your hands and shoving them down her mouth. Your eyes widened at her enthusiasm, but the surprise soon turned into amusement and you let out a small chuckle, shaking your head.

Agatha’s gaze moved back up towards you, and it was difficult to take her seriously with the way her eyebrows were furrowed and lips were stained red from the berries — like a child who is still learning how to eat properly. “What are you laughing at?” She almost growled. It was clear to see that the witch was trying to seem menacing and scary, as she always did. But unfortunately for her, it seems looking evil when your eyes are shining with happiness while your mouth is full is incredibly hard. You waved a dismissive hand and shook your head once more as your giggles died down, a sigh falling from your lips. She looked at you with suspicion, reaching up to wipe her mouth with the back of her hand. Your face scrunched up slightly. “What?” She questioned, sounding rather annoyed.

“You just don't know how to not make a mess, huh?” You nagged with the faintest hint of a smirk dancing on your lips as you grabbed the checkered fabric your mother had given you to cover the fruit basket and that was long forgotten. You handed it to her — handed as in shoved it into her hand and gestured towards her mouth with a wave of your hand. “Clean that up, you are looking more like a toddler rather than a feared witch.” The sight of Agatha Harkness herself frowning pathetically was the most amusing thing you had ever seen in your life. You pushed away the thoughts of how cute she looked as you watched her clean her lips and cheeks grumpily. When she tried to give the piece of fabric back to you, you pushed it back against her chest. “Keep it. As a treat.” You joked, continuing your mission to find apples for your mother’s pie.

Agatha snickered and her lips curled up into an amused smirk at your comfortableness in teasing her, being ao used to people running away from her for simply being her. She stayed behind and watched as your figure continued the path, the dark shade of purple of her dress contrasting with the hint of red from the fabric you gave her, poking out of her pocket after she had folded it lazily and shoved it there. For Agatha’s immense displeasure, you were an incredibly fast walker, but she quickly caught up to you.

Her arms were behind her back and she whistled in feigned innocence, strolling just a few steps behind you. You rolled your eyes as you heard the melody, but a smile was playing on your lips. Your mother would kill you if she found out about this, about you hanging out with the woman you promised her to keep your distance from. You quickly pushed those thoughts away the moment you saw the apple trees ahead, full of life and covered in sweetness. As you stepped closer, a gasp fell from your lips at how beautifully red the fruits looked. “Ah, mother will love those!” You exclaimed happily, mostly to yourself, an arm stretching to grab the apples that were in a level where you could reach.

Harkness grabbed one of the juicy fruits as well, bringing it to her nose and inhaling the marvelous scent with an approving hum. “These look delicious. You said your mother will love them?” She raised an eyebrow with curiosity-filled eyes, leaning back against the tree nonchalantly and taking a bite out of the apple she held in her hand. You hummed and nodded in agreement, side eyeing her for just a split second as you continued to fill the basket. “Well, do you think your mother would be so kind as to spare me some apples?” She said playfully, batting her eyelashes in a dramatic manner. You scoffed.

“Well, my mother made me promise I would never talk to you again. Want to take a guess?” You didn't look at her as you spoke, but you could practically see the frown on her face with the way she let out a long, annoyed hum. “Don't take it personally, she would make me promise to stay away from any witch ever.” You tried to sugarcoat it, even though you knew she probably didn't care at all. There was a pause.

Without a word, she stared at you with suspicious interest, those icy blue orbs roaming over your figure as she studied you with narrowed eyes, seemingly trying to find the final piece of a puzzle she longed to solve. “Mind telling me why you are breaking the promise you made to your dear mother, then?” The question came out quietly, as if it was a secret that no one other than you two were allowed to hear. Your movements faltered, hand freezing just as your fingers had wrapped around the last apple that was on your reaching level. You cleared your throat, finally snatching the fruit and shoving it inside the picnic basket.

“I guess,” you began, the almost whispered words leaving your lips slowly as you contemplated what you should say. “Your company doesn't bother me. Much.” You looked her way as you put emphasis on the last part, which elicited a chuckle from her. The brunette observed as you moved next to her and leaned against the tree before sliding down until you were sitting on the grass. You placed the basket on your lap and stretched out your legs with a long and loud groan.

After a moment, Agatha repeated your movement and plopped down onto the ground while holding her skirt securely. Your gaze fell upon the fabric you had given her poking out of the pocket of her dress and then moved up back to her face. Your heart skipped a beat when you saw her already staring at you, her palm supporting her chin as her elbow rested on top of her knees, which were pulled against her chest. Your mind wandered back to your first encounter, in which she had said she wasn't an ordinary girl, nor like you. But seeing her like this, so calm and quiet, she really did look like just an ordinary 18 year old girl.

A hand dived inside the basket and grabbed a few more berries before handing them to Agatha, who gratefully accepted the offer. An unexpectedly comfortable silence washed over the two of you as the witch ate calmly — this time, taking her time to savor the sweet taste. The gentle breeze made her hair sway subtly, and you thought the sight was breathtaking. Fists clenched around the fabric of your skirt as you tried to hold back from the sudden urge to just… touch her. Make sure she was real, that she really was there with you. Since you never saw the young woman after your first encounter, your mind had became a mess of thoughts as you wondered if what happened in the woods actually did happen or was just a fever dream — a fever dream that felt a bit too real.

“Why so many apples, anyway?” The sound of her voice breaking the soothing silence forced you to come back to reality and turn to face her, confusion splattered across your features. She gestured to the basket with a nod of her head, noticing the way you looked lost in thought as she handed you the last berry she had in her hand. “So many apples. Are you baking something?” She didn't miss the way you took and ate the fruit in agonizingly slow movements, as if you were doing anything to not answer the question. She didn't blame you, she was used to it — and she didn't miss the hint of regret that flashed through your eyes when you mentioned your mother earlier. People had always warned you, saying that you should be careful when giving any information to witches, no matter how unimportant it might be. But before she could open her mouth to say you didn't need to give her an answer, you finally spoke up.

“My mother is.” You answered simply, the sound of your voice coming out as a quiet, almost shameful confession as you leaned your head back against the tree and looked up at the leaves hanging from the branches above. “I'm a disaster.” She raised a brow at your statement, an amused smirk tugging at the corner of her lips as she waited for you to give more details. You looked at her and let out a small giggle. “I'm not exaggerating — I wish I was, but I'm literally banned from the kitchen at home.” The loud laughter that escaped the witch’s lips as she threw her head back forced a smile out of you, the sound making something flutter inside you.

“You— oh, goodness! Are you serious?” She panted out between giggles and laughed even more after you nodded in confirmation, her hand moving to clutch her side as she felt the threat of a cramp forming. “I'm gonna get a side cramp!”

There was only one word to describe your state as you watched the scene unfolding in front of you, and that word was fascinated. Was it weird to be obsessed with someone's laugh? Maybe it was, maybe you were weird, after all. But you simply couldn't help it, the way her eyes crinkled at the corners as the cutest sound left her lips. The so-called evil witch, Agatha Harkness, rather a monster than a woman, a girl, even, that had no feelings nor a heart, laughing so beautifully. You lost count of how many beats your heart skipped, pink lips parting in pure awe. God, you wished you could paint her at that moment, eyes scanning over her features in an attempt to memorize it. She seemed to notice your behavior, her laughter dying down as her face twisted into an intrigued expression. You felt a blush dusting your cheeks at being caught, a shy smile appearing on your face before you looked away, gaze focusing on the ground instead.

She tilted her head to the side then scooted closer to you, so close you could feel her leg resting comfortably against yours. You felt your cheeks heat up at the simple touch, and you mentally cursed yourself for being so easily affected by the woman — although a part of you knew anyone would be if they were in your shoes. Her face leaned closer to yours as she searched for your eyes, and when they met hers, she smiled. It made your heart skip several beats. It wasn't her usual smug grin or teasing smirk, no. It was a genuine and beautiful smile, and you were sure you could die happily at that moment, with the sight in front of you as the last thing you saw before the curtains closed. “You're so shy all of a sudden. Was it something I did, darling?”

Darling. God, the sweet names she called you made you crave her even more. You wondered if she only called you those things, or if she did it with everyone, ignoring the way you hated the simple thought of the second option being correct. “It's just—” you tugged your bottom lip between your teeth, stopping yourself from speaking any further. More silence. Your body was set on fire when the familiar coldness of her fingers lingered against your skin as she brushed a lost strand of hair behind your ear, and you noticed the way she seemed to touch you for a bit longer than considered necessary. You cleared your throat, feeling a lump forming. “Your laugh.” You said simply, avoiding eye contact at all costs.

She let out an amused, soft chuckle. “Didn't expect to hear me laugh, hm?” She asked teasingly, her hand now resting on your shoulder.

“Didn't expect to like the sound of it this much.” Crap. Your eyes widened as soon as the unwanted words left your mouth against your will.

Agatha looked stunned, perfectly shaped eyebrows shooting up in pure surprise. It was the sweetest thing anyone had ever told her in ages — perhaps, even in her entire life. You couldn't believe your eyes as you took notice of the light, almost unnoticeable shade of pink that appeared on Agatha’s cheeks. The hand on your shoulder slid down your arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps on its wake. It settled next to your own hand that rested on top of the basket laying on your lap. Your whole body tingled when her pinky brushed against yours in a teasing touch. You finally had the courage to look up at Agatha again, butterflies forming on your stomach at the way your gazes met and the small, maybe shy smile that she sent your way. Your hand was shaking with nervousness, but that wasn't enough to stop you from linking your pinky with hers.

A small gasp escaped from Agatha’s lips at the gentle gesture, gaze darting down to your entwined fingers. The moment your head came to rest on her shoulder was the moment the witch realized that you would be the death of her — but she would never complain, laying her head against yours. You stayed like that for what seemed to be an eternity, simply relishing in each other’s company and touch, the comfortable silence from earlier making an appearance once again. “To be fair with you, I didn't expect to enjoy your company as much, either.” She finally broke the silence, voice sounding so soft it was hard to believe it came from Agatha Harkness herself. Your mind was racing and heart thumping against your chest so fast you really thought you would have a heart attack for a split moment.

That's when you remembered why you had even left your house that day — apples, pie, your mother who awaited you at home. You hesitated before breaking the contact and ascending from the ground, dusting off the skirt of your dress. Agatha frowned at the lost touch and repeated the movements with a hint of annoyance. The sun was starting to set and your lips pursed into a firm line upon realization you would get a scolding when you got back home. “It's getting late, Agatha. I should really go now. Mother would be furious if I took any longer.” The pang of sadness and disappointment at the words leaving your own lips stung like hell. Realizing Agatha wasn't going to say anything in response, just staring at you with an unreadable expression on her face, you stepped closer to her and pressed a soft, lingering kiss on the soft skin of her cheek.

You turned on your heels and started walking away, fighting the urge to glance back over your shoulder, knowing that looking at her would make you turn back around. What if it took even longer to see the witch again than the first time did? What if your mother found out? Not only would you feel her anger for breaking your promise, she would be even angrier at the way you were so affectionate with another woman. You had mentioned your attraction towards women to her briefly once, but quickly learned to never do it again and pretend it was just a mistake, something your confused mind made you believe was real. But it never went away, and it never would. But you hid yourself with bitterness, being the good example of a daughter you always had been. The sound of the familiar voice snapped you away from your thoughts, body whipping around to face the young woman.

“Shall I see you again?” Her voice was uncharacteristically quiet as she questioned and took a small, hesitating step forward, which did nothing to the still significant distance between the two of you. You couldn't help the bright smile that formed on your face, nodding enthusiastically in response. She smiled back, a hint of something that looked like relief playing across her features. The realization made you feel special, worthy.

“Tomorrow, same place and time?” Agatha’s heart raced at your words and she nodded slowly, trying the best she could to hide her happiness. Never in her life did she expect to be smitten by a woman she met twice. But, oh, she was. Unbeknownst to you, during your time away, Agatha also couldn't stop thinking about you. Her mind wandered back to your first encounter more times than she could count, and knowing she would see you again filled her with an unfamiliar sense of happiness. She couldn't wait to see you again, waving goodbye even as you turned your back to her.

[blublublujk]

bound 2 (falling in love)

oneshot

word count: 6.5k

genre: fwb to lovers

pairing: yoongi x reader

summary:

You and Yoongi were okay with being friends with benefits... until you weren't.

warnings: i tried to focus on fluff (did you catch it or did i fail), explicit sexual content; unprotected sex (they make love to each other), choking and breath play (hello it's yoongi), multiple orgasms, slight overstimulation, crying (is it really my ff if there's no crying involved), creampie, very cute aftercare and i think that’s all, this is more sweet than anything lol

a.n: believe it or not this wasn't apart of my drafts i wrote this all one night because i couldn't sleep so thank my insomnia for this, it was about time i write about yoongi :D

also i noticed a lot of you are reading it was destiny and love always wins and i wish you guys wouldn't only because i plan to rewrite some of it and continue them at a further time (chaptered ffs are so hard for me rn since i don't have all the time in the world to dedicate myself to them but i promise to be back with those two series) thank you for everyone who takes time to read what i write it really means so much and your comments have been so motivating. thank you so fucking much for 2k notes on good girl, gone bad i havent seen numbers like that ever im so so grateful, thank you from the bottom of my heart. i'll try to be back one or two more times this month and happy late birthday to me hehe <3

—> m.list

—> welcome me on ao3 & twt

—-

It happened again.

Another failed date to add to the sad list of people that simply will never workout for you.

The list was growing longer as months passed. When you started this list, it was barely the start of a very hot summer. Probably the hottest it’s been in years, one can only assume the winter will not be any easier. 

And you were right. Winter was only beginning and it was brutally cold. The streets were moist from the previous night of harsh rainfall. 

What better time to date and settle down than now. When the world gives you rain, settle for the warm arms of a lover.

Unfortunately, you made a grave mistake thinking this would come easy. Ten first dates later and you are still very single and loverless. 

It is not easy to go out during a time like now, suffering at the sight of happy couples and their stupid happy lives. Really, it should disgust you. It used to. The whole concept of devoting your entire life to someone. The need to constantly feel the tender touch of another person. The desire to fall in love and do it all over again, you get it now. At least, you think you do. 

“I don’t think this is gonna work.” The words fall from your mouth in a quiet rush. The man across you sits in silence before he smiles in his loss. 

“Don’t worry, I figured. It seems your mind was elsewhere. I know you don’t want to pursue anything romantically, and that’s fine with me, but is everything okay?” 

Is everything okay? Well currently, yeah you’re okay. As for your heart, it’s heavy and strangely, you feel there’s a hole in your chest and it needs to be filled. That would fix things, you think. You have been single for so long that you forgot what it was like to love and cherish someone. Not that you have ever truly loved or cherished anyone, but you’ve gotten close. If a silly relationship you had in your sophomore year of high school counts. Then yes, you’ve totally been in love. 

“I’m okay. Thanks for asking. I didn’t mean to lead you on, if it ever felt like I did.” The apology seems bitter in your mouth. Another failed fucking attempt. How difficult can dating be? Have you really been this disconnected with the world around you? 

“Don’t stress it! Things happen. I hope you can find what you’re looking for. See you… around?” The man’s understanding response makes you feel worse. Maybe you should consider deleting Tinder and finding love naturally, if that’s still a thing in the contemporary life. 

“Yeah, totally!” And like that you’re off to the next. Giving yourself plenty of time to bathe in your disappointment and miserably cry about your failed attempts at finding what you’ve been missing. Who knew dating could be so difficult?

The walk back home is just as cold as the outcome of today’s date. Your date insisted he could drive you home and if not that then pay for a cab, but you didn’t live too far from the restaurant you both met at. Though he insisted, you figured this walk could refresh you after yet another failure. You were starting to regret it as the cold wind started roughly hitting your skin. Preserving the chilly weather, you genuinely couldn’t wait to get home and wrap yourself in a bundle of warm blankets and comfortable clothes. 

Cold hands struggle to open your door, you blow on them with warm puffs of breaths, soon making your way in and getting comfortable in your humble apartment. 

yoon: you up?

And that, that is what made this harder. The fact that you knew there was someone completely capable of loving and caring for you the way you desired. You have seen it with your own eyes. Every time you ended up in his bed, in his arms, you felt it. Deep down you know something is there and that something beats everything else. Maybe you’re just delusional, but you look for him in everyone else and you hate it. Hate because you will never be anything more than his personal little whore that comes at the sound of his call. 

me: yeah

Normally, you aren’t dry over texts, especially not with him so he’ll see right through you. You’re hoping for once, he can ignore it. 

He won't. 

yoon: you ok?

me: been better

yoon: wanna talk about it?

me: no, i'm ok

yoon: ok, wanna come over? 

Yes, because during a time like this all you want is the comfort and warmth of someone else’s touch and Yoongi has never failed at giving that to you. But he is not yours.

And you are not his. 

me: not feeling well. sorry.

yoon: sick? 

A white lie never hurt anyone. 

me: yeah, throat hurts

yoon: im sorry 

me: it's not your fault maybe another time.

Though you really shouldn’t say that. There should be no next time. That way you don’t suffer any longer and drag him down with you, considering everything you’ve been feeling and dealing with lately. It’s not fair to Yoongi, but especially yourself.

He doesn’t reply anymore and you can’t even hide your disappointment. You aren’t disappointed at him, okay maybe a little bit at him, but mainly yourself and your recently found complicated feelings. 

You and Yoongi started this whole mess a year ago, before you even realized what you truly wanted. It started off with subtle flirting here and there. They say not to mess with coworkers, given that it can complicate things at work and one should never play with their main source of income, but you did it anyway. You are still young and he only made you feel younger, like a teenage girl crushing over her forbidden crush at church. It was silly, but Yoongi made it easy. 

The flirting turned to one thing, then another. 

“We shouldn’t, not here.” Yoongi had you pinned outside the club you both worked at, leaving trails of wet kisses down your throat.

“Five more minutes.” His words were muffled into your skin as his hands explored your body. Yoongi’s touch was always way too soft for his own good and you fell victim to his deadly warmth. 

“If Mr. Kim finds out, he’ll kill us and fire us both.” That was a bit dramatic on your part and you swore you felt the taller smiling against your neck.

Yoongi drops one last kiss on your cheek as his hot breath hits your ear. “Not if I kill him first.”

You gasped, pushing him off you with a quick smack to his chest. “D-Don’t even joke like that.” 

Yoongi just laughed. 

“Okay, okay baby.” The term of endearment fell from his lips too easily and you melted into the dark night. “See you after work?” 

You only nodded, not being able to deny his temporary warmth and sweet presence. Then he dropped a kiss on your lips, leaving you just as quick as when he first found you. You were fucked.

From there, it only got worse for your sake. Your heart could only take so much. 

Really, you should blame things on him. It was his fault you fell in love with him and his stupidly soft hands. It was all his fault! He left you no choice but to love the feel of his lips against your skin, to easily melt under his soft gaze, and find comfort in his unnecessarily warm bed. Yoongi was perfect. Everything you could ever want. 

That’s why it was so fucking hard. Dating was hard enough, but after feeling Yoongi’s intimate touch, you were a complete goner. Though he was far from it, Yoongi touched you like you were his and he would fuck you like a lover would. Kissing and making love to you as if you were the most beautiful woman on Earth. It was all too much. 

Fuck, you really needed to get a grip.

The knock on your door makes you jump from your couch. 

Ten minutes longer and you would have fallen asleep exactly where you were lying. In outside clothes and all. You didn’t even bother taking off the outfit you had carefully planned thinking that this lucky outfit would have finally taken you somewhere. It didn’t. 

“Coming!” There’s not a single person that should be outside your door, especially at this hour. Your feet make their way to the door regardless and the blood from your face drains when you see the person standing behind the door. 

Quickly, you unlock your front door, rushing the taller inside. “Hurry! It’s freezing! What are you doing out here?” 

Yoongi’s cheeks are surely frozen, a pink dust decorates his cheeks and the tip of his nose. It almost makes him look cute. You were far more gone than you imagined. 

He hustles inside, carrying a fairly large brown bag with him. He brought… groceries? 

“Took you long enough.” The taller one makes himself at home, laying his bag on your coffee table. 

“What are you even doing here?” You ask again. 

He ignores you. “Thought you said you were sick. You don’t look very sick?” 

Yoongi looks at you with a questioning look, his eyes wander your outfit and guilt starts eating your insides. 

You cross your arms, an attempt to hide yourself in shame, but what’s done is done. “I- I had plans.” 

“Yeah, I see that.” He simply says, standing awkwardly in your living area. 

If this doesn’t convince you to delete that forsaken app for the sake of your dignity and shameful behavior, you don’t know what will.

“Anyways, w-what brings you here?” 

“Brought you some stuff.” His hand waves over to the bag he carried inside. 

“Stuff?” You question, a bit dumbfounded, planted still in your place.

“Tea, cough drops, some soup I made earlier this week. Oh and flowers.” Yoongi doesn’t seem at all embarrassed or fazed about the situation. Not that he should be, but he speaks with a puff to his chest, as if he wanted to ensure you understood his every word and action. Like any concerned lover would be. As if he was yours and you were his.

Oh.

This was so so bad. For you and your weak heart. Fuck.

“I-“ 

He cuts you off before you even get to speak. “I don’t know if you’ll like it. It’s just some plain seaweed soup. Usually helps me when I’m sick. I’m not sure what flowers you like, or if you even like flowers. Do you? Their tulips. I did a bit of research before. My mom likes tulips. I figured you might like them too.” 

He did research? Double fuck! 

Yoongi was nervously rambling, now he was slightly embarrassed. Pink flushes his cheeks and it wasn’t the weather’s doing this time. 

“Yoongi…” You start breathlessly and in disbelief. 

“What?” He nearly stutters, his hand is shaking. He’s nervous. Who would have thought? 

“Why.” Is all you manage to ask. 

“You were sick.” Is all he replies. As if things were really that simple. What next? Would he come rushing to the hospital if you suddenly fell ill? God forbid, but it was a valid question. 

What was going on? For a second, you entertain the idea. Maybe he fell in love between the blurry lines of this complicated relationship. Were the shared intimate memories too special for him to forget too? You weren’t sure anymore, but what did this all mean? Maybe he loves you, as much as you love him.

Thoughts keep spinning and you wish there was an easier way to turn off your brain. Not now.

“I know, but why? Why all this? Why for me?” Your vulnerability is showing and it makes you feel weak. Maybe your hands are shaking too. 

“I don't understand?” Yoongi searches for the answer in your glossy eyes, he’s tempted to reach out and comfort you. Have you in his hands, but he’s too coward. He doesn’t want you to feel the shiver of his touch right now. His vulnerability peaks through as well. 

Why not you? It’s always going to be you. 

“I-I’m nothing to you.” There’s a shiver again and then you break. 

Yoongi doesn’t care anymore. He’ll consider the consequences later. Right now, none of it matters.

His hands hold your face, ready to wipe the tears that threaten to leak from your precious eyes. He hopes his hands aren't cold anymore from standing outside for so damn long, but he couldn’t stop himself, in his selfishness and all.

His hands shake slightly, trying to stay strong as he lays it all on the table. “Y/N, you’re everything to me.” He whispers, eyes never leaving yours.

You lay your own hands on his, you feel so delicate around him when you wrap warm hands around his cold wrists.

“I-I am?” You ask between sniffles. His hands are still pretty cold, but they’ll soon warm up against your soft skin. Nobody knows how desperately you need to be touched until you are and then it’s like little fireworks spark inside your body. It consumes you in the best way possible.

“Of course. I thought I made that obvious.” His eyes are soft, different to how he typically looks at you, but you’ve seen these same eyes before. They are no stranger. It’s similar to the look he gives you when you catch him staring at you while you are deep in work. He pretends to look away as if he wasn’t admiring you from afar and you pretend that you don’t notice his curious eyes. It’s the same look he has after you both end up in heated makeout sessions, behind the rusty club you both work at. And it’s definitely the same look he has while he settles on top of you, whispering sweet words of praise and promise.

Nothing should feel different but it just does, there’s something in the way he looks down at you that lets you know that everything you’ve been searching for has always been right here. Right where you’ve been all along.

The taller leans in and you freeze struggling to keep your eyes on his. Yoongi’s thumb brushes against your cheek with a soft touch. You were fragile between his hands and he’s willing to do anything to keep his precious flower safe. “Can I kiss you?” 

“Yes. Please.” You whisper back in a hurry, scared that this would be nothing but a dream. It wasn’t time for you to wake up yet.

His eyes zero-in on your lips and then he’s kissing you. It’s not much different from other times. After all, you guys have shared plenty of kisses, probably more than you should have considering you guys were friends with benefits, at most. But this time, the kiss isn’t just a careless lust-filled doing, no this time the kiss is a promise. The promise to never again allow you to question his feelings and intentions towards you. 

If Yoongi has to spend his whole life making this up to you, he simply would because that’s how much you meant to him. He can’t believe he even let this go on for this long. He should have been more clear and careful, but he doesn’t regret a damn thing. Not when he has all the time in the world to repair the time lost. And especially not when his reckless actions led him to this. To you.

Yoongi’s lips are soft and bend with yours with ease. He takes his time, never in a rush. Especially not when he has you in-hand. 

The taller doesn’t escalate the kiss. He keeps it sweet and gentle, like he always has been. “I’m so sorry baby.” 

Kiss.

“For?” 

Kiss.

Yoongi has the whole world in his hands right now as he looks down into the sparkles in your eyes and he’s never been so sure about anything in his life. “For being a fucking idiot.”

Kiss. 

“It’s okay.” A kiss is shared again. “I was an idiot too. I was just scared that you wouldn’t want that with me.” 

“Want what?” The taller questions, fingers trailing your face, admiring the imperfections and all. 

“A relationship, I mean. You seemed content with how our relationship already was. I was afraid of losing that. Of losing you.” You admit, eyes fluttering at his touch. 

“Of course, I want that. I want that and more. I-I’m not the best with relationships. I’m only saying this because I want to be open and honest with you. There’s not a second you aren’t on my mind. While at work, you are all I can see. In a crowd of a hundred, my eyes always find yours. I don’t know how to explain what you do to me. But I don’t mind. I think if I ever lost that, I would lose my mind. So I’m sorry if I ever made you feel the opposite. There’s so much more I want to say, but I just don’t know how. I want that. I want that so bad. A relationship and whatever more you give me. I might not be the best boyfriend but I’ll do whatever it takes. I- I love you.” Yoongi’s words are heartfelt and he’s so relieved. One because he’s been keeping this in for so long, any longer and he would have exploded, but second because he’s been dying to say those three words. He really does love you and Yoongi doesn’t love many people in life, but if he had to choose, it’s always gonna be you. 

The tears that were creeping on your eye-lids fall prettily down your face, but Yoongi comes to your rescue. He’s quick to wipe them off your pretty face, tempted to kiss them away, but he keeps that in for now. “Y-Yoongi… I love you too. So much. I think I always have. You are so easy to love. The way you look at me, care for me, and always show up for me. That says more about you than anything else. I tried dating to get over what I felt for you, as you can probably tell, but nothing worked. It was so easy, Yoongi. So easy to fall in love with you. You’re perfect and I don’t doubt that you’ll be the best even after all this. I love you.”

“I love you too, I love you. Fuck, I love you.” Yoongi kisses you again and this time he isn’t as gentle. His lips are still soft as ever as they curl around yours. His tongue comes out and you immediately allow access, letting him explore your mouth. The taste is much better now that there isn’t anything you both are holding back. Everything down on the line and you couldn’t be happier. The hole in your heart was never empty, it was just waiting for this exact moment to remind you that you’ve always had it all. 

“Yoongi.” In between breaths you call his name and Yoongi feels his knees lock. “Take me to bed.” 

Yoongi just nods in a trance with the way your tone drips of arousal. A long strand of hair falls on his face when he picks you up with ease off your feet. He takes you to the place he’s had the honor to visit a hundred times before, but it’s different this time, much different. 

In the process of it all, something falls and it causes you both to laugh until you run out of breath. 

“I can’t believe that just happened.” You laugh into his ear. “You owe me a new lamp. My mother bought me that, you know. House-warming gift.”

“Fuck, sorry.” Yoongi mumbles near a whisper as he grips you harder like he’s afraid he might drop you next and the idea makes you giggle because you know he would never purposely hurt you. “I’ll apologize to your mother directly. Buy you and her a new lamp, whatever it takes.”

“What makes you think you are meeting my mother?” You tease with a smile on your face, watching the blush rise on his cheeks. 

“Well, I figured we could, you know, if you would like–” Yoongi doesn’t often get shy about many things but he can’t keep calm around you and that kills him softly.

“I’m just teasing you.” You say and he bites his lip. “Of course you’ll meet my mother and my father and my nosy ass family. I hope you like annoying, persistent grandma’s that stuff you full. My grandma’s the worst of her kind, but she’ll love you.”

“I would love to.” Yoongi simply replies, still whispering as if you guys had to keep quiet or else you’d be in deep trouble. 

“Why are we still whispering?” You whisper back, roaming fingers through his long, gorgeous hair. He needs to remind you to thank his mother personally for insisting he keep his hair long because it made him look pretty and you could never disagree. Yoongi’s so pretty. 

“I-I don’t know.” 

You both smile at each other before sharing another kiss. It’s so sweet and if you weren’t already off your feet, you would be floating by now. He’s gentle when letting you drop into the sheets below, he finds space between your legs and you wrap them around his hips. Lips still in contact, never losing the plushy feel. 

Everything starts to feel hot. Your hips start to slowly grind against his begging for any sort of friction. But the kissing doesn’t stop. 

Not when you start whining against his lips. 

Not even when Yoongi starts trailing his fingers down your waist and around your curves. He teases his fingertips against your waistline, soft to the touch. 

It’s not until you mewl loudly into his mouth, skillful tongue playing with yours, as you feel him start unbuckling your pants, button-by-button. 

Yoongi’s eyes are heavy-lidded, his gaze burning fire. “Gonna take care of you now, is that okay?” 

You furiously nod, coming up to kiss him once more, both your lips are raw and sensitive, but it gives you more of a reason to fix it with even more kisses. 

He drops one quick kiss onto your mouth before he trails down your jaw. Yoongi breathes in the sweet scent on your skin, wishing he could feel you even closer. “Smell so damn good.”

His voice is raspy against your ear and it makes you blush, while you feel his hand finally touch you where you had been aching with need. “Wanna hear you.”

Breathing lightly, you whisper. “Make me.” 

And of course, Yoongi makes you regret how fast you said the words because he delves his fingers forward with little resistance. Two fingers stretch you at the same time, gasping at the sudden sensation. 

By now, you were molded to fit Yoongi’s fingers. On days where you were really in need, you would take four, all at once. Yoongi was best at reading every expression, every crease and scrunch to your face, especially emotions. He knew exactly how to curve his fingers, the way to build you up, and bring you back down. Yoongi knew it all and he was so lucky too. 

He never anticipated it would have gone this far. It was just sex to begin with. But who were you both kidding, it was always much, much more. 

Yoongi curves his fingers in the way he’s used to and watches your mouth drop, sweet noises soon leaving your lips. “Feels good?” 

There’s no need to ask because he can tell. Your expression tells him everything he needs to know. That and the fact that you are dripping around his fingers but it’s sexier hearing it from you. 

“Yeah… f-feels so good.” With his other hand he tugs your clothes off, leaving you bare on the bottom. Remembering the first few times is a bit embarrassing, but Yoongi always made sure to take his time and make you feel comfortable. It was special and memorable in its own way, and Yoongi felt it too. 

This is unlike any first time, but it was technically the first time you could officially make love to each other until you fall lovesick and that had to be impossible around someone like Yoongi. 

“Hold your legs open for me, flower.” You try to ignore the warm feeling that buzzes in your chest, but you are sure your face says it all. Without another word, you spread your legs open, tucking both hands behind your thighs.

“Flower?” You breathe out with a bit of a struggle as his two fingers continue to pump deep inside you, brushing repeatedly against your g-spot. 

“Do you not like it?” Yoongi smiles slightly, biting his bottom lip while he watches you start to tremble, making the prettiest sounds. 

“I do. Why the new name?” Voice a bit unsteady but it does the job. Yoongi thinks of all the times he thought you were as pretty as a flower, which really was all the time. Especially, in the way he has you right now. Pretty, pretty as a flower. 

“I’ve always wanted to call you that. You’re pretty, sweet, delicate. Just like a flower.” He justifies his reasoning and you melt into puddles. 

“Yoongi.” Voice sweet as honey. 

“Yes baby.” He replies with ease.

“Make love to me, Yoongi.” 

There was a time in his life where Yoongi believed he could live without love. How foolish of him to think so. When he met you, it was a complete three-sixty. Suddenly, Yoongi started to look forward to his shit job. He looked forward to that time between breaks where he could admire you from the back like a pinning loser. Yoongi even started to like the walks he had to take to get to work because he knew that the path would eventually lead to you. He started looking forward to tomorrow's and to the bright future that led ahead. His mom would often complain that he was wasting his life away waiting for it to start, but Yoongi thinks life truly started the day he met you. 

It was a bit awkward because you couldn’t even look him in the eyes, intimated by the staff and new environment. You had previously worked in different bars so you assumed it would be no different and it wasn’t, but the intimidation of a new job was there nonetheless. Yoongi was there every step of the way. He had a crush on the new employee and you needed help on fitting in. Either way, your friendship was very platonic until it wasn’t. 

Yoongi knows he should have said something along the lines “hey, maybe we shouldn't be doing this anymore. I’m in love with you and I have been since you started working here” but the stupid words never made it out. He felt it would be too much to hear and it would only make him look like a complete loser. 

And you felt the same. It was silly really, because everyone around you knew it and there was no reason to fear someone as easy going and non-judgemental as Yoongi, nonetheless it brought you both here. After many failed dating attempts, you were finally happy and in the arms of someone who you truly love and want to be loved by. 

There was a time in his life where Yoongi believed he could live without love, now Yoongi believes your precious, sweet love brought him back to life and he wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world. 

Clothes now discarded on the floor, heavy breathing filling the room, and Yoongi could get wasted on the smell of your intoxicating perfume. “Breathe flower.”

Yoongi felt you shiver at the sound of his words, throwing your head back as he thrusts you full of cock. He pushes inside you with gentle movements, struggling to keep himself up while feeling the tug of your warm velvet-like walls. 

You gasp feeling him hit your cervix in a calm, slow pace. It was breathtaking regardless of the gentle rhythm. “You’re so deep...”

“I know flower, breathe baby, breathe.” He is struggling to keep from coming inside you, overwhelmed by his own emotions as your eyes roll back, feeling the pressure rise in your belly. Without a condom, everything feels so different from other times, feeling every ridge and crease fold inside your drenching heat. You take him so nicely, like you always have. Like you’ve always belonged to him. 

You don’t even notice you stopped breathing until you start feeling lightheaded and desperate for fresh air. Breathing just as much as necessary so you don’t faint, you shake your head against his hold, his eyes watch yours, observing with curiosity. 

“No?”

“Mm, n-no.” You shake your head again, whimpering when you feel him kiss your cervix with his swollen tip, over and over and over. “Can– can you…”

“Can I what, pretty flower?” Yoongi rolls his hips a bit faster, feeling his orgasm build too quickly. He wishes he could have days with you like this always. Days to love and worship you from head to toe.

“Choke me.” You manage to say. “Don— don’t wanna breathe.” 

Yoongi growls deep, increasing his speed even more, desperate to fill the deepest part of your glistening folds. He feels you tense underneath, the sounds coming from your mouth are loud enough for your neighbors to hear, but Yoongi stopped giving a fuck about everything around him. 

He places a hand on your throat and squeezes gently, not blocking off your airways completely, but leaving you just enough air to work with. It drives you insane. The more you breathe, his rough thrusts take the air out from your lungs and the process repeats. It feels so good.  

“M-more. Harder.” You barely hear your own words, but Yoongi seems to understand because his dick is moving rapidly inside you, nearly splitting you in two. You wrap both hands around his wrist, loving the heavy weight against your chest. It’ll end too soon and it disappoints you in a way, but you have all the time in the world to make this up. “G-Gonna come.” 

Yoongi nods, concentrating on the way your face scrunches with pleasure. With love. The way your eyes tell him a story. God, Yoongi’s madly in love. “Come, my precious flower.” 

With those final words, you come on his bare slick cock, blossoming in the blissful afterglow. Yoongi doesn’t stop thrusting inside you, but he takes his hand off your throat, kissing your face gently when he sees tears start leaking down your cheeks. 

“It’s okay, you’re okay baby. Breathe for me. Slowly.” Yoongi’s words bring you back down and you throw your arms around him, crying against his shoulder. You don’t even know what invoked this strong emotion to sob your eyes out, but Yoongi allows it, caressing the back of your head. Yoongi doesn’t judge, he only holds you until you settle down. “It’s okay baby, let it out. Breathe, pretty flower.” 

“C-Come inside muh-me, please.” Even after all that, you still beg for him and Yoongi wants to laugh but for your sake and the fact that it’s endearing to him, he delivers accordingly without further questions. 

Right as he’s going to paint your walls white, he pushes himself up with one hand, still holding you with the other. “You sure?”

You’re confused about the sudden question, the tears still decorate your face but then you understand. “Birth control. Just come in me Yoongi, fuck me, fu-fuck.”

Yoongi doesn’t hesitate to regain his brutal pace, fucking you with purpose. Not that he doesn’t want kids in the near future, but he sure as hell doesn’t want any right now. He’s glad you are on the same page but maybe one day the conversation would spark and he wouldn’t want the mother of his kids to be anyone else but you. You were perfect for him. 

“Gonna come.” That’s the only warning you get, then he’s emptying himself inside your tight walls. He doesn’t stop rolling his hips, his slit leaking puddles, until he’s pumped himself dry. With one last thrust, he groans and carefully pulls out. 

He brings you with him, head falling against his chest as he continues to play with your hair, leaving kisses into your bare shoulders. “You okay baby?”

“Perfect. Feel so good.” You mumble into his skin, feeling around his waist. “I’m leaking your come into the sheets though.”

“I’ll take care of it, pretty flower.” You nod sleepily into his chest with a quiet ‘thank you’, feeling completely sated and satisfied, aching with exhaustion. “Sleep baby, I got you.”

With that, you fall deep into the shackles of sleep. Yoongi rubs your back until you completely fall asleep in his arms. He struggles to unwrap himself from your hold, but when he finally succeeds, he tucks you in and kisses your cheek a few times before getting up to clean up after the mess you both created. 

He’s light on his feet, bringing a warm towel to your slick folds and wipes as best he can, being gentle so you could continue to enjoy your sleep. Even like this, you look so beautiful and Yoongi is an extremely lucky man. 

Yoongi makes sure to also pick up the lamp he dropped from earlier as well. He blows out a breath of relief when he notices that the damage is nothing big and nothing that can’t be fixed. He’ll make sure to fix that as soon as he can. 

While he’s out there, Yoongi places the tulips into a vase and fills it with water, placing it near a window where it could grow and blossom beautifully near the sunlight. He even cuts the tips into slants because he had heard somewhere online they last longer that way, making sure to get rid of any dead leaves and petals. Yoongi couldn’t be happier.

After he’s done with the light cleaning, he washes his hands and feels the exhaustion hit him tenfold. He’s careful when placing himself back in bed, lifting your arm and placing himself underneath you. The man smiles when he feels you curl yourself around him, sleeping soundlessly. 

“I love you.” He whispers and even though you don’t say it back Yoongi feels it with the way you melt into his arms. Yoongi falls asleep easily that night. 

…

“Baby.” Yoongi hears someone call him and he ignores it. Sleep calls his name louder and he doesn’t feel like waking up right now so he groans and cuddles deeper into the bedsheets below him, unaware of the life around him. 

“Baby wake up.” You keep calling sweetly and it’s tempting but he persists.

“No. Don’t wanna.” Yoongi grumbles like an old man and you can’t help but to laugh. “Just ten more minutes.”

When you woke up the next morning, you were so thankful Yoongi had kept his promise. Your apartment was flawless and you were as clean as you could be. The tulips looked prettier today as the sun shined on the delicate petals. You even had time to warm the seaweed soup he brought from home and you couldn’t wait to get a taste. The smell alone is delicious and it warmed your home up nicely, you truly couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that this was no longer a dream but your reality. You could definitely get used to this. 

You drop kisses onto his warm cheeks until his eyes flutter open, almost similar to a cat. “There you are.”

Yoongi pulls you into his arms again with quiet noncoherent grumbles and closes his eyes once more. “Give me ten minutes.”

“It’s already been ten.” You whisper lightly laughing. 

“Oh. Ten more then.” You get comfortable on his chest and cuddle for a bit longer because you can’t say no to his cute sleepy self. 

Yoongi starts to sniff the air with curiosity. “Is that the seaweed soup I brought you?” 

“Mhm.” You hum. “Better get up soon before it burns.” 

That manages to be convincing enough and Yoongi forces himself up, with you in his embrace. 

“Wanna wake up like that forever.” He says, voice filled with sleep. 

“You can.” 

Yoongi snaps his heavy eyes towards you. “Are you–”

“Move in with me, Yoongi.” Yes, you skipped every step to this, but nothing was ever to code between you and Yoongi. One thing you were so sure of and that was spending the rest of your life with him. “Please.”

“I- yes, of course.” Yoongi wraps his arms around you for a tight hug, kissing your temple. “I love you. I love you and I’ll prove it to you every single day.” 

“I know, I love you too. I love you.” Those three words come out from your mouths so easily and it’s nice that you no longer have to ever hold back. The man of your dreams is in the palms of your humble home and he’s in love with you. This was better than any dream. 

“Let’s eat?” He says after some time of hugging and kisses being interchanged. 

You nod, letting him take you there. Your kitchen is filled with the cruel aroma of food and your tummy rumbles as you sit comfortably while you wait for him to serve you a bowl of the warm tasty soup. 

“I should be doing that. I’m a terrible host.” Yoongi shakes his head while smiling, the fluff of hair moving with him, then your phone dings. “Hold on, give me a second.” 

Your heart drops when you see it is a Tinder notification from a man you promised to get back to. You look over to find Yoongi serving your bowl, making his way to the table. He leans in puckering slightly and you immediately lean into the sweet sudden kiss while he places your meal in front of you. This Yoongi is new because it wasn’t often you could act domestically towards one another, however this was perfect and just what you needed. 

“Everything okay baby?” Yoongi asks while caressing your soft cheek and you immediately nod in his palm. 

“Yes, everything’s perfect.” You reply in awe. “Thank you Yoongi, for everything.”

For letting me love you and for loving me back. 

The older man just smiles and joins you for the meal. 

It turns out you didn’t need Tinder after all. 

You quickly delete the app off your phone and start to eat with the love of your life, conversation flows while you enjoy each other’s presence and fall deeper in love. 

Alike Yoongi, you couldn’t imagine it happening any other way. You were bound to fall in love, one way or another, but that man was meant to be yours as you were meant to be his.

[elliereject]

ifhy .1

* in which ellie’s obsession relationship with you begins to sour as your romance with your new boyfriend seems to flourish. it seems she’ll stop at nothing to ensure your happiness, (which you’ll find with her, obviously) even if it means hurting you in the process.

* lowkey obsessive ellie, (I LIKE EM’ A LITTLE CRAZY!), angst + comfort (next chapter(s), infidelity, unrequited feelings yet also mutual pining (just read it like, idk idk I forgot how to do these),lmk if I missed anything!

* im back, ok not really this has been rotting in my drafts forever and I was reading it back and I was like damn I lowk cooked with this. It’s unfinished as of RN but this is only 1/3 of the fic im just splitting it up so u don’t have to wait months,,for it..like my other fics..DONT ASK ME ABT THOSE, cuz I don’t got an answer. IN THE MEAN TIME ENJOY THIS! <3

* mdni (but like if u do wtvr, nothing crazy happens in this chapter)

wc ~ 1.6k

pt. 2 here

Ellie Williams fucking hated you.

Surprisingly, she didn’t at first. In fact, she was in love with you, bordering infatuation.

She had seen you for the first time at the local bookstore before the semester started, you were flipping through a book about time and relativity with a concentrated look on your face. She smiled to herself when she saw you push up onto your toes to reach for another book but to no avail. She took this as an opportunity to walk up to you and reach over your head to grab it, making sure to flex her lean, tattooed arm before placing it in your hand.

Her jade eyes locked on yours and your face heated immediately, you mumbled a “Thank you.” Before scurrying past her to the checkout.

Imagine her surprise when on the first day of classes, she walks into her astrophysics course and sees you, doodling in your notebook with that same concentrated look on your face.

Of course, she sits next to you, flashing that charming smile that has sweat gathering at your hands. She tells you her name then asks for yours and learns about your major, favourite course, and how you’re staying in a little apartment just outside the campus before more students and your professor filed in. You didn’t know why but you just felt so comfortable telling her things, She laughed at your corny jokes and made even cornier ones, and she admired the doodles that covered your notebook and the little duck pen you used.

You didn’t want to speak too soon, but it was safe to say you were harbouring a tiny bit of a crush on her.

Ellie on the other hand, was completely ready to admit it. She felt her love for you grow each second she was around you. Your smile quite literally felt like the sun shining upon her, your laugh made her want to drop her studies of space to pick up stand-up comedy just so she could make it her job to make you laugh. In her eyes, everything you did was perfect. Her thoughts were completely consumed by you, you, you.

And for a few months, things were amazing! You had been introduced to Dina and Jesse and even spent Halloween hanging out with the trio watching horror movies and eating each other's weight in candy. When the holidays rolled around you and Ellie, along with the others, cozied up under some blankets and made fun of cheesy Hallmark movies while she tried her hardest not to interlock her hands with yours even after your pinky brushed against hers for the sixth time.

During finals, Ellie and you organized designated study days that usually ended in giggling at stupid memes on each other's phones or late-night food runs. Of course, there were lingering touches and flirtatious glances here and there but you were too shy to act on it and Ellie would rather die than make you uncomfortable so she kept you just at arm's length. Besides, she knew you were too timid to approach anyone else, so in a way she had you all to herself.

Then, you met him. Some motherfucker whose name she didn’t care to remember. However, she did remember the innate feeling of anger that surged through her body when you gushed to her about him and how he was a history major and the way his glasses framed his face perfectly and whatever the fuck else you found interesting about him.

She nodded and laughed and smiled along with you when you would drone on about him but would excuse herself to the bathroom to tend to the crescent-shaped wounds in her palms from digging her fingers into them so hard.

She tried her best to not show these negative emotions to you because she knew how much you didn’t like when she got mad but fuck was it hard. Especially that one night when you were out with him and you hadn’t replied to her texts in over 5 hours. Man did her drywall take some damage that night.

And when you finally did reply you had completely disregarded her message and went on to boast about the time you had and how gentlemanly he was. All she could do was reply with a dry “sounds like fun🙂” before she went back to throwing a tantrum around her room and tormenting that poor wall…she’d have to remember to buy some spackle before the end of the semester.

Then, there was the time she trekked over to your apartment with some pizza for a surprise movie night and saw the bouquet placed in front of your door. She set the box down to pick up the flowers and read who it was from, her body reacted before she could rethink. She tore the flowers from the beautifully wrapped packaging and stomped on them over and over and over until all that was left were broken stems and tattered petals.

Thankfully, you got home just a few minutes later and missed her outburst. You gasped when you saw the smashed flowers and asked her what had happened, she shrugged and lied easily, claiming it was like this when she got there. She let out a breath when you shook your head and sighed, saying it was probably your next-door neighbor who had always been a bit of a grouch.

She had genuinely thought she was doing a pretty good job of hiding her true feelings for both you and him but it was when you gleefully announced that he was officially your boyfriend she knew she was done for. You squealed and pulled her in for a hug but it felt like her heart had shriveled up into a clump of black coal and woosh like magic, her love for you had turned into something twisted, something possessive.

It was when you invited her over to your apartment to eat dinner with him that she had started considering the idea that you knew she had a crush on you and you were just fucking with her emotions for fun.

How could you start dating, let alone seeing some random ass motherfucker when she was right here! She knew she could treat you better than he could even dream of, she knew everything about you and she’d make it known to you how perfect she was for you, one way or another.

That night at dinner she sat uncomfortably as you fluttered around your tiny kitchen, adding last-minute touches to the spaghetti you made and despite the grumble in her tummy it felt like she had no appetite when she watched the hungry way he looked at you, as if you were a juicy steak and he was a starved wolf.

Once you were finished plating the food and placing it on the table you sat down eagerly and tried your best to mediate the obvious tension.

“Soo uh, Ellie, you’ve been really into watercolour recently right?” You beamed.

“Uh-huh.” She said dryly, twirling her spaghetti around her fork.

“Oh that’s cool, you know watercolour as an art form has been around since Egyptian times! It’s funny to think that like—Cleopatra was painting with water and grapes or something!” He spoke and you giggled like it was the funniest joke in the world. She shot you a look that said really? because she knows she could make a joke that was way funnier, and would expel your real laugh.

“That’s cool. You know how to shut the fuck up?” She mumbled into her bite of spaghetti.

“Sorry?” He asked and you gave her a sideways glance.

She smiled tightly and swallowed before answering, “Just said that’s cool!”

Dinner dragged on as he droned about the history of the Renaissance or fucking Christopher Columbus, she didn’t actually know, she tuned him out. After you cleared the plates, you ushered them into your cozy living room for a movie and when you excused yourself to the bathroom she plopped down on the couch next to him, subtly pulling out her switchblade.

“So, Kevin—“

“Actually my name—“

“I don’t give a fuck what your name is, matter fact I don’t give a fuck about you in general. What are your intentions with ★?”

The man tensed up as Ellie expertly spun the blade around in her fingers.

“Uh—I mean, she seems cool and dating her has been pr—“

“Cool?” Ellie scoffed, “She’s fucking perfect, and I hope you know whatever you have going on with her right now? It won’t last. Soon she’s gonna see you for the limp-ass motherfucker you are.”

He was taken aback, “What?—I’m sorry, did I do something to offend you?”

“Your whole existence offends me.” She rasped, inching her blade closer to his neck. “She’s not meant to be with you.”

He furrowed his brows, “You like her, don’t you?”

Ellie rolled her eyes, “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

Before he could reply you were back from the bathroom and she slipped her blade back into her pocket and got up with a firm grip on his shoulder.

“What were you two talking about?” You asked as you grabbed a bag of chips from your small coffee table and tore into them.

“Oh you know, girl talk.” She smiled, digging her blunt nails into his shoulder. Translation: don’t say a fucking word.

You rolled your eyes playfully like you even had a clue of what was going on, “He’s not a girl, dumbass.”

She shrugged, stepping away from her previous seat to plop down on the other small sofa.

The rest of the night proceeded relatively smoothly, your boyfriend had been so shaken up by Ellie’s words that even with you sitting next to him he kept his distance with worried glances toward Ellie now and then. Ellie crunched on her popcorn happily and watched the movie with a satisfied smile and a chipper aura.

— ★

🤔 shall I put out the second part? only time (and interactivity! 💝 pls don’t let this flop) will tell!

[chrissv4mp]

tornado warnings 🌪⚠️

warnings: vulgar language, maybe gets a little sexual but not real smut, getting back with an ex (don't do this seriously its the WORST decision you'll ever make)

author's note: GUYS i am so obsessed with sabrina carpenter so i js HADDDDD to make a matt oneshot based on one of her songs!!

edit: yall are getting this early bc i couldn't wait to post it & i also just hate having stuff in my drafts!!

_____________

"matt," you laughed, stumbling over your own feet as you tried to make your way to him.

"c'mon, just a few more steps. don't fall now, darling." he joked, and you swear you felt nauseous at the thought of it.

your eyes glanced to the ground, and you forgot how high up you were. was the alcohol just making it seem higher?

you took the last few steps with caution, and right at the last one, you stepped on your shoelace, causing you to stumble forward.

"shit," matt gasped, grabbing your forearm tight but gentle enough that it wouldn't hurt. he pulled you back, the both of you falling on your asses on the roof.

matt laughed at your shocked expression, acting as if you hadn't almost broken bones. he was always like this, never feeling anything. and even if he did, he would just find it funny.

"what the fuck?" you gasped, and before you could even yell at him, you started to laugh. his laughter was contagious, everyone would agree.

his hold on you didn't last long, quickly pushing you out of his arms and getting to his feet.

your smile faded as you watches him crawl back into the house through the window, leaving you by yourself.

what kind of boyfriend does that?

you shook your head, fending off the bad thoughts and quickly thinking of how many other guys were worse. matt wasn't even a bad boyfriend.

he just... was a little scared of relationships. it was the commitment, he always said.

_____________

sighing, you stared up at the ceiling of the office, the only sound in the room being a pen writing on paper and your quiet breaths.

"so, back to what we talked about last session, your boyfriend?--"

"ex." you corrected, looking back in your therapists direction.

"oh, i'm sorry ms. y/l/n. uhm, you said you felt unwanted, but that you still believed he had a good heart, is that correct?" the man asked, looking down at the paper in his clipboard.

"yeah, yes, that's right." you breathed, fidgeting with your hands as you looked around the room.

"you also said that you planned to breakup with him, cut off all communication. have you spoken to him since said breakup?" he tilted his head, looking up from his clipboard.

shit.

"no, no i haven't. never saw him. never kissed him." you said, your voice growing quiet as you said the last words.

if he didn't see it, it doesn't exist. he doesn't have to know.

the man sighed, taking his glasses off before placing them on a table to the side, "ms. y/l/n, this is a safe space, you know that. we've been doing these sessions for a little over 7 months now, and i'm sure that you know everything you tell me in here is private and is never spoken of outside this office."

"i know, i do feel that this is a safe space. and i swear to you i'm telling the truth. im over that son of a bitch. he's the worst." your lips curved into a reassuring smile, and unsurprisingly it hadn't helped your case.

"okay," he sighed.

_____________

you glanced at the clock on the wall, sitting at the island in your kitchen as you finished up some work on your computer.

your phone was left untouched next to your mouse pad and you silently prayed that it remained silent.

the screen lit up, and an array of messages suddenly blew up your phone.

great, just what you wanted!

you didn't take your eyes off the computer screen, but as soon as you saw matts contact name in the corner of your eye, you couldn't help but grab the phone.

matt🫀: 'can i come over???'

matt🫀: 'nvm im already On my way!'

matt🫀: 'bringing snacks btw, we should watch a movie if ur down'

matt🫀: 'was gonna ask what u wanted but u take centuries to reply soooo coke and kit-kats it is :)

"what?" you whispered, chuckling quietly at his texts.

no, you can't laugh. none of this was funny, and he knows that he's crossing your boundaries right now. why does he always do this?

you: you js keep gaining red flags every day, we're not playing capture the flag, ykw that right?🚩

matt🫀: we're always playing capture the flag, the only flags i collect r green tho!💋

he couldn't be serious. was he even real?

you: sassy man apocalypse has started yet again😱

matt🫀: you take the man out of the sassy apocalypse, not the sassy out the man🤷‍♀️

you: your the worst

matt🫀: you're*

your thumb hit the power button, and not even a minute later, the doorbell rung.

having forgotten about your laptop, you quickly jumped to your feet and ran to the door. a smile was plastered on your lips, and you couldn't seem to get rid of it.

why must you always fall for his tricks. he's such a dick.

"hey, darling," he smiled, his backpack hanging off one shoulder and a plastic grocery bag hanging off the other.

his pet name caught you off guard, and you swore your knees almost gave out. no man has ever made you as weak as matt has.

who does he think he is?

"hi, matt." you smiled, and he didn't hesitate when he leaned down to kiss you.

your hand went to his chest, pushing him back and moving your head to the side even if your hand kept him back.

he scoffed in fake offense, pulling away, "you're no fun, y'know?"

"i'm fully aware." you laughed before moving to the side to let him in.

he went straight to your room, having known your house so well since he had been living with you for a while before.

all doubtful thoughts were thrown out the window as you made your way to the bedroom. you caught matts eye as you made you walked in.

"c'mere," he smiled, gesturing you over with a wave of his hand, "what movie should we watch?"

you couldn't help but smile, almost forgetting all the prominent red flags that he had. he was the worst.

or maybe he wasn't as bad as you thought. maybe it was just you.

he was good for you. he kept you on your feet, kept you grounded.

"baby." he said, his voice breaking you out of your thoughts, "come here,"

matt smiled as he patted the empty spot next to him, and you wasted no time in getting on the bed and situating yourself beside him.

his hand grazes your thigh as he reaches over you for the remote, turning the TV on before scrolling through endless amounts of movies.

"superhero movie?" he asked quietly, looking over at you as you shook your head.

"wow, surprising." he joked, clicking through some more movies that didn't catch either of your eyes.

matt ditched the remote on what used to be his nightstand before he rolled over to face you.

his eyes were still that deep blue that you loved, and the smirk on his face didn't help as you tried to look away.

"i missed you," matt muttered, his voice soft as his fingers danced along the skin of your arm.

your breath hitched as his hand found the hem of your shirt and went under it, that stupid smirk on his face making it impossible for you to deny him.

"matt, we can't--"

"shh," his lips were dangerously close to yours now, and you didn't even want to question how he got so close to you in just a few seconds.

"there's not a rule that we can't, and we both know you need this. just let me relieve your stress, yeah?"

what the fuck is matthew sturniolos secret.

his hand traveled further up your shirt until it landed on your breast, and you couldn't help the gasp that escapes your lips as he squeezed it.

with his free hand, he propped himself on top of you, knees on either side of your body as he leaned down to your lips.

you couldn't resist him, not now that he was corrupting all your senses. all you knew was him now.

"no, matt." you muttered against his lips, your hand gentle against his chest as you tried but failed to push him away.

you couldn't do this anymore. it was killing you. he didn't want anything more than just a fuck-buddy and you both knew that.

so why was it so hard to push him away?

"matt," you gasped as you felt his lips on your neck, his smell intoxicating as your eyes fluttered shut.

no, you wouldn't do this anymore.

"matt, get off." your gentleness was gone now as you pushed him with real strength, he didn't give a single fuck about you, really.

the boy didn't hesitate to stop, quickly climbing off you before plopping right back next to you on the bed.

"shit, i'm sorry, baby." he muttered, real worry in his voice.

you shook your head, sitting up as you covered you face with your hands.

"please, just leave. we can't do this anymore. seriously." you sighed, tears pricking in your eyes.

"but--" matt tried, but you cut him off just as he was about to start begging.

"get out, matt." your hands went back to your sides, but you didn't dare look at him.

he would only reel you back in.

the boy sighed, frowning as he collected his stuff slowly.

he stopped when he reached the doorway of your bedroom, turning back to look at you, and this time you looked back.

"i do love you, y/n." he said quietly before leaving, shutting the door gently.

your lips parted as you took in the words that had just left his mouth.

no, it was a lie. it always was.

it wasn't true, right?

this was just another red flag to add to the list. all the lies he'd say.

fuck, he drives you crazy.

. . .

[wooahaes]

strawberry cheesecake

pairing: non-idol?han x gn!reader [reader has a uterus/is menstruating]

word count: 1.0k~

warnings: menstruation tw. food tw. this was meant to be non-idol but honestly read it however you like, idc. reader gets kind of emotional bc have you ever had really good food when ur having a bad day? its healing. also this isnt proofread.

daisy’s notes: oh to have a cute boy and enjoy cheesecake w him and then take a lil nap while being comforted... han would understand me on the cheesecake part. he would. also this has been sitting in my drafts for three months. be free.

“Oh, hey! Sorry to bother you, but, uh... Why did Jisung tear ass out of here like... maybe ten minutes ago?”

You’d been half-asleep when Chris called you for the third time in five minutes. Work was tiring, you were exhausted and ache-y, and you had opted to collapse into bed for a quick nap before you made dinner and relaxed for a few hours. Of course, fifteen minutes after you laid down and barely five minutes after you fell asleep, your phone had started ringing. And of course, it was the Christopher Bang himself, calling about your boyfriend like you kept tabs on his every move.

“No clue. Bye, Chris--”

“I’m asking because he mentioned your name,” he said before you could hang up. “Did something happen? Like. He heard someone mention what time it is, said ‘oh, shit’ and then booked it out and said he’d be back in maybe an hour. I mean, we’re not busy or anything, but if you needed something--”

“What?” You squeezed your eyes shut. Fuck, you were still feeling a headache coming on. “Chris, I don’t know why he would--”

Immediately, you heard the sound of your front door being bust open and the sound of footsteps. Your bedroom door opened after a moment, and there stood Jisung with a plastic bag in one hand.

“Is that him?”

“That’s him,” you said. “I’ll, uh, I’ll text you later.”

Jisung quickly made his way over to you, setting the bag aside carefully as he sat down in front of you. “I didn’t forget!”

You stared at him. “Uh. Hi, baby--Everything okay?”

“This morning,” he opened the plastic bag, “you said you wanted cheesecake after you got off work. I was going to bring it by sooner, I just--I got caught up with the guys, and then--”

He pulled out two containers of cheesecake from one of your favorite cafes to frequent with him. The strawberries and whipped cream were packaged separate, and there was something cute about the way Jisung was careful to make sure they were still sealed as he set them on top of your slice--setting his own strawberries with yours.

“And then I had to order and wait and--and it didn’t take long, but I was supposed to come straight here, and...” He trailed off, looking up at you. “Do you feel okay? Did you eat? And take medicine?” He frowned. “Baby.” He set the containers aside as he began to look you over. “Is your head hurting? I know you sometimes get migraines--do I need to grab medicine?” he said, his voice a little softer now. “I promise I didn’t forget until now--”

You gently clasped a hand over his mouth, “Honey. It’s okay.” You said, “I forgot I even said that.” You couldn’t help but smile, pulling your hand away so that you could plant a tiny kiss against the corner of his mouth. “But it’s really sweet you brought me cheesecake.”

Jisung was blushing when you planted another tiny kiss against his lips, just soft and chaste as could be. “Do you want it now? I can put it in the fridge if you aren’t hungry.”

“What about you?” You said. “I thought you were hanging out with the guys.”

He reached for his phone, pulling it out--angling the screen just right so that you could catch a glimpse of missed calls and texts from his friends (which must have come before Chris decided to outright just call you instead). “I think I scared them.”

“Chris said all you said was my name and ‘oh, shit’ before you booked it out,” you said, “so they probably thought I was dying.”

He frowned at his phone for a moment before looking back up at you. “I can stay long enough to eat cheesecake with you,” he said. “I’ll text the group chat.”

Jisung had looked away from you, watching you break into your cheesecake. When you tried to return his small container of strawberry sauce to him, he pushed it back to you--insisting that you could have it today. He finally looked back to you a few moments later after sending a quick text, only to notice the way you were sitting there, fork still in your mouth and tearing up.

“Is it bad? I can go somewhere--”

You shook your head, fighting back tears. Jisung had ran to get you this cheesecake and was apologetic because he knew how bad your periods could get. Maybe it was the hormones, but something about the combination of a caring boyfriend going out of his way to make you happy and the sweetness of a slice of cheesecake was enough to make you want to cry. 

“Do you need medicine?” He asked a moment later, watching you. His hair fell into his eyes, and you watched the way he brushed it back. “Just tell me what you need, okay? Is today bad?”

Another shake of your head as you took another bite of cheesecake, rattling off something about how you just really loved him. He had smiled at you a moment later as your words fully sank in, and he shifted so that he could be sitting closer to you.

“I really love you, too,” he said with a soft chuckle.

Despite what he said earlier about staying long enough to eat with you, you managed to get Jisung to cuddle with you for what was meant to be a few minutes. He pulled you into his arms, already starting to curl up closer and closer to you.

“You said you’d go back,” you reminded him, yet still snuggling in. He was holding your heating pad in place, and the last thing you truly wanted was for him to leave you when your cramps had yet to die down. “Jisungie,” you whined, just to tease him. “Neglecting your friends for me...”

He planted a tiny peck into your neck. “I’ll go in a few minutes.”

(And yet he stayed right there with you, dozing off faster than you did... even with the numerous texts from most of his friends later on asking where he went. Chris merely texted you to make sure both of you rested well.)

taglist: @twancingyunhao​

[sunnyupsidedown]

Tender

Word Count: 1873 [AO3]

Rating: Explicit

Summary: It was so different from their usual encounters. There was no opening remark to set the scene. No falling into a role to be a slightly different version of themselves.

A/N: Wrote this months ago and originally wasn't happy with it BUT I wrote something (in a different fandom) that I'm even less happy with so this doesn't feel so bad anymore lol. Time to release it to the wild. Written because I craved something tender between Jack & Alan.

It was always eerie to be in his house when no one else was around. It wasn’t exactly silent with the creaking of the wood and the thin walls letting every noise imaginable filter in from the street, but without the constant chatter of children, the sounds of cooking in the kitchen, and the general hum of life, it might as well have been a graveyard.

The weeks he sent his family to the seaside while he stayed back to work was only worth it because it gave his family a time to forget the situation they were struggling through. Emily and Tom still brought up stories of chasing gulls and collecting shells and every repetition brought a smile to Alan’s face.

This time his family was packed up and sent to Cheetham Hall. He would be joining them in a few days time after he took care of an important deadline. Alan didn’t know if it was better or worse that he wouldn’t be there to see his family meet Lady Cheetham.

In the meantime, Alan would stay with Jack once Alan picked up the list of items his family forgot to pack but remembered as they were about the hop on the train. With the items quickly located and stored in a bag by the front door, Alan and Jack stood in Alan’s attic bedroom with Jack leaning on the wall by the door and Alan digging though his desk to find his newest draft. It wasn’t quite evening yet with the sun’s golden rays illuminating the dust motes floating in the air.

“We could stay here for the night,” Jack broke the silence.

“No.” Alan’s reply was instant as he continued to page through some of the papers in a side drawer. Alan felt the heat of Jack’s body as he crowded up behind him.

“You’ve slept at my place, let me sleep here,” Jack tried again.

“Well you’re fucking rich. Still no.” Alan sniped back.

“It would be quite a novel experience.” Jack snaked an arm around Alan’s waist and bent to tuck his chin on his shoulder.

“Oh fuck right off!”

“When will it ever be just the two of us here again?” Jack continued unphased.

Alan turned in the embrace and took in Jack. The juxtaposition between Jack and the hovel of his room raged a war in his mind. Jack stood tall and at ease with entire worlds in his ice blue eyes. They suddenly flicked to the side and a smile quirked his lips.

“Oh, what’s this?” Jack asked, sliding a hand from Alan’s waist to an item in his desk drawer.

Alan could feel his face heat with the sight of Jack’s handkerchief between them, but the truth came out of his mouth when he opened it just to see what Jack would do. “Writing inspiration. What else could it be?”

He wasn’t disappointed when one of Jack’s eyebrows shot up and his eyes darken deeply. Jack stepped closer with a question in the way his eyes dropped to his mouth and it was like their lips were magnets. Jack true north and to Alan’s south. Alan shifted up on his toes, tilted his head, and wrapped a hand around the back of Jack’s neck, helpless to the pull.

A hand slipped around his thighs and then he was sitting on his desk. The strain in his neck relieved and the angle changed to something deeper, dirtier.

Alan was at a precipice. If this went on any longer, if he did not stop what was happening, his only haven would no longer be his alone. It would forever hold the memory of this moment with Jack. Jack was a large man with even a larger presence. Alan thought back to the first time Jack was in this room and the uncertainty of the future. If Jack didn’t survive… If Alan didn’t survive... If Jack grew tired of him after the danger was gone and tossed him aside like an old newspaper, then he would be left with no space untainted by the memory of Jack. No refuge. Jack blurred the boundaries of easy fantasy and cruel reality.

But now, months later, Jack was here with him in the room again. Alan slept over at Jack’s at least twice a week but saw him almost everyday: for lunch, for dinner, for tea, for a walk, at the Blyth’s while Spinet was rebuilding. Bella won’t stop smirking during family meals when he can’t seem to keep Jack off his tongue. There was a certain room at the Hawthorn residence that Alan refused to call his. He doesn’t even sleep there but it holds a few suits that have been forced onto him and a desk with a few favored notebooks and pens.

His attic room was no different with traces of Jack creeping in with the handkerchief, a borrowed pen, a smooth rock from Cheetham Hall.

Jack pulled back but stayed close with his forehead leaning on his. “Have I ever told you…” The rumble of his voice, thick with desire, sent a shiver down Alan’s spine. “...that I didn’t have a favorite color until I saw how light reflects from your eyes?”

And suddenly the decision was made. He was falling from the cliff, hurling himself from the edge to reach the man in front of him.

Alan brought their lips together again briefly before pushing Jack back. Alan’s chest heaved. “I want to feel your skin pressed against mine.”

Getting undressed was easier for Alan. His ensemble had less layers, less fiddly pieces. He finished and watched a shirtless Jack start on his pants. Even naked, he could see the wealth in Jack from the full flesh on his body and the shine of his hair. But with the backdrop of the tiny attic room and without the outside wrappings of a lord, it was easier to see Jack as the sum of his actions. Almost like they were equals in society.

Jack stepped out of his drawers and Alan was there, running his hands through the soft hair on Jack’s chest, absorbing the heat of his body. Alan pushed Jack two steps back to the edge of the bed. Jack got the hint and sat with Alan falling into his lap with a kiss.

Alan’s hands roamed the broad expanse of Jack’s back, lightly running his nails up and down. His fingers slowly made their way up into Jack’s hair and pulled. He could feel Jack’s prick jump against his own and a moan escaped him. Alan kissed down Jack’s throat and bit on the soft spot at the base of his neck. The desire to consume everything that was Jack Alston overwhelming.

Jack suddenly lifted and laid Alan down on the bed. A quick rummage in his still open desk drawer had Jack tossing a jar of lotion on the bed and then his mouth was on Alan’s body consuming him in return with a whispered, “You’re going to drive me mad.”

Jack started at his lips, then the soft skin under his chin, his neck, his collarbones, each nip at his nipples pulled a gasp from his throat. Jack kissed the spot under his last ribs almost ticklish with its lightness before he’s between his legs biting the sensitive skin of his inner thighs.

“Don’t choke this time,” Alan managed to get out and he’s rewarded with a pinch to his thigh that makes the molten core of his being burn hotter.

Jack wasn’t necessarily good, not that Alan had much hands-on experience in either direction, but the fact that it was John Frederick Charles Alston groaning around his prick in his mouth made up for all of it.

Alan’s entire body trembled when a slick hand slid between his cheeks. Jack sucked hard and pushed a finger in and Alan couldn’t stop the near shout from leaving his body. Jack continued to gently open him up. So, so gentle it was almost too much. Alan had to pull Jack up into a kiss.

It was so different from their usual encounters. There was no opening remark to set the scene. No falling into a role to be a slightly different version of themselves. Right now, kissing in Alan’s small attic room striped bare, they were Alanzo and Jack. No lords, no journalists, just two men.

It was terrifying.

It was exhilarating.

Jack lined up and pushed into Alan with a grunt in one smooth stroke. They stayed there breathing, staring straight at each other. Jack had his arms bracketed around the sides of Alan’s head, his hair mused from Alan’s fingers. A red blush bloomed on his cheeks, down his neck, on his chest. His eyes soft and open with a tenderness that made Alan want to weep. And maybe he did because Jack ran the pads of his thumbs under his eyes and dropped a soft kiss to his forehead, to his nose, to his lips and lingered.

Alan hooked an ankle around Jack’s back to let him know he’s ready and Jack moved like there was all the time in the world. Each stroke a slow eternity driving Alan closer and closer to insanity. Jack shifted and the angle changed and the pace was suddenly unbearable.

Alan used his legs again to nudge and Jack moved up and around to hold Alan in his lap again, giving him all control. With Jack’s hands on his hips to steady him, Alan moved faster, though not by much, like anything faster would break the moment building between them.

A hand found its way to him and softly stroked in time with their movement. Jack sighed his name into his mouth and Alan was unmade with Jack releasing in him a few moments later.

Alan came to with his arms hooked around Jack’s shoulders and breathing into the hollow of his neck. They shifted again together. Careful so Jack didn’t slip out because Jack knew that Alan liked the feeling. Alan moved to kiss Jack deeply in return because that was what Jack liked. It was startling to realize the language they have created together. A type of cradlespeak built from their time together. A mingling of them so that a light pull of his hair has Alan leaning in closer and a nip at his lips has Jack running his hands in slow circles on Alan’s back.

They stayed curled into each other until the late afternoon sun faded into the oranges of evening. Jack breathed softly in sleep, a hand resting on Alan’s chest. He would wake him soon because there was still no way he would let Jack sleep overnight in his cramped bed. He himself didn’t want to sleep in his cramped bed with Jack taking up most of it.

Now in the haze of evening, Alan couldn’t remember why Jack’s mere presence in his haven was such an ordeal. It was always going to be a losing battle. He was already ruined the moment he laid eyes on him on that boat. The gravitational pull between them was too strong. Too heady. And he was in so deep that no matter what, he would be obliterated.

[bandousama]

AHHHHH if you're Posting content again may I ask for some Shohei stuff🤍🤍

୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ‘mama i'm in love with a criminal’

ft. gangster!shouhei x sweet girl!reader * ˚ ✦

a/n: posting this now since it’s been sitting in my drafts for a couple of months so i apologize if i didn’t post this sooner 🥲 i forgot…oops. just a heads up, but he might be a bit ooc

gangster! shouhei who's hopelessly in love with the darling girl next door.

gangster! shouhei secretly watches you walk to your doorstep every night, eyes scanning the surroundings for any intruder that may harm you.

gangster! shouhei scoffing and scaring the men away who have their disgusting eyes on you.

gangster! shouhei who proudly declares that whoever lays a hand on you will know how merciless he can be.

gangster! shouhei’s legs turn to jello once you finally say hi to him. what makes his pulse go skyrocket was when you asked if he could accompany you to the cinemas.

gangster! shouhei who admits to himself that he's one big of a pervert as he watches you touch and fondle your sex from his window. his hard bulge straining his tight jeans when you attempted to moan his name quietly…obviously failing.

gangster! shouhei who is in disbelief over your lewd late night shenanigans. who knew that the pretty and innocent doll he's been eyeing on is secretly a lust-filled, hungry, slut.

gangster! shouhei really cannot get enough of his sweet girl. now that he knows your dirty little secret, he's been using it as blackmail to get what he wants. explicit pictures, lewd voicemails, and even asking you to give your used panties to him. what a dirty, dirty man!

gangster! shouhei has been nothing but unforgiving with his requests. you still showed up to your cinema date with a dangerously short skirt that you managed to wear without safety shorts. and shouhei’s just shocked? because first, you've been sneakily touching yourself to him every night and now this? you really want to get fucked, huh?

gangster! shouhei who as soon as you guys are inside the movie theater, his hand is immediately against your soiled panties. his fingers instantly plunging inside your wet cunt, your hips riding his soaked fingers. you give no fucks about the movie, not when he's verbally degrading you for letting a dangerous man like him violate your pussy in public.

gangster! shouhei is a big meanie to his sweet, darling girl.

[sidhewrites]

Chapter 11! We got hot plot! I am so keenly aware that this is a first draft and going to be edited so heavily once it's all on the page! One of the major notes I Have for myself consistently is to make Kaz more active in causing the plot to happen overall. Right now she seems to be a bit more of a pinball protag, so I'm going to have to do a lot of fixing in later drafts.

I also realize I'm seriously lacking tertiary/background characters? Kaz and Josie need friends lol. Now taking suggestions for other weird gay college kids that live in generic college town usa

Project Info

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

For the record, this is every bit as always as we both thought it would be. Josie and I sit at a very deliberate distance from each other on one of the brightly colored benches in the university’s student lounge. It’s a thoroughly modern building with glass walls and a wealth of amenities, but there aren’t many students to be found on a Friday afternoon, likely preferring to spend the start of their weekend having fun, or at least away from school. 

As a peace offering, I get us both cans of coffee from a vending machine, and hold one out for her as I flop down onto the bench across from her. 

“Do you drink anything other than coffee?” She asks, but takes the can anyway. Her fingers brush against mine, and we both freeze for a moment. 

I employ my usual method of smoothing out an awkward moment by saying something very smart and witty: “Sure. Sometimes I drink pure espresso like it’s a vodka shot.” 

For the record, I’ve only ever did that three times in my life, and every single time I told myself I’d never do it again. 

I push myself as far away from her on the small bench as possible while she sets up her laptop on the table in front of us, carefully avoiding looking at me. 

Half of me wants to call the whole thing off. I say I have to be somewhere else that I forgot about until just now, or just say fuck it and outright apologize for agreeing to meet in the first place. But the other, louder half of me is determined to be civil and polite and prove that we can get through a single half hour video like adults. 

I am keenly aware of the space my body takes up as she pulls up the Haunted Archivist’s website. My fingers grip the cold aluminum of the coffee can, my feet sweat in the socks I’ve worn all day and the work boots I wear everywhere. The sports jersey I’m wearing rubs against my skin, and I try to focus on that instead of the way Josie’s choker bobs with her throat when she swallows or the way her auburn hair falls over her shoulder. I don’t look at her stomach hanging over her waistband or think about how much I want to grab her, and how easily I could pull her towards me and lose myself in her. 

Before I know it, I’ve downed the whole can of coffee. 

“This was a mist—“ I say, right as Josie says, “Got it! Ready?”

She flushes for a second then, and leans back. “Oh, sorry. What was that?”

“This was a mistake,” I say again before I can help myself. 

A flash of fear and pain darkens her expression, so I act without thinking, and hold up the coffee. “This. I’m gonna regret it in about an hour.”

Relief floods Josie’s body and I see her almost sag with relief as she nods. “That’s for certain. Ready?”

She starts the video, and the Haunted Archivists begin with their usual affair. Shots of past videos flash across the screen as they introduce themselves and what they do, followed up with talking heads of Lourdes and Mick introducing this month’s subject. 

I glance over at Josie as they run through a list of noted ghosts in town, and she mumbles under her breath when she forgets a few that only a small group of locals know. 

Elitist, I think fondly. 

They start with the Barkeep, then the Kramer twins and the Librarian, running down the list until it’s time for their last and most exciting overnight investigation in the graveyard. 

Mr. Ngo appears on the screen, doing an interview in his office as he introduces the graveyard and its history.

“Yeah, boss!” I say, pointing at the screen. “If he’s not watching this right now, I’m going in tomorrow to show him.” It’s my day off, but I don’t even care. He looks great, even if he did ultimately forego the cowboy hat. 

They show my interview next, and I immediately want to crawl into the nearest hole as it plays. 

“Aw, you look great,” she says, which does nothing to help. 

It’s a mercy when they finally move on to the actual investigation of the graveyard, and we watch as they set up various tools and equipment to detect ghosts all over the graveyard. The entire event looks much more interesting on camera than it did in real life, and I wonder if [something about the magic of movie editing]. From my point of view, they had wandered about, spent a lot of time not talking, and wrote down a lot of notes. But in the video itself, [something else]. Even the ouija board session looks cool and dramatic in the video, and I’m half lost in the story, ridiculous pad it is.

And then Josie pipes up: "Wait. Rewind a bit?" Her face is pale as she presses the arrow keys back to the moment right before Renfield knocks over the ouija board, and presses play.

"Is anyone there?" Mick asks again. "Anyone want to talk to us?"

The planchette moves to YES.

"Who are you? Is this Lucille Blue?"

The planchette circles the board senselessly and moves back to YES.

They ask Lucille a few more questions before the voice over narrates, "It was at this time we heard yelling off in the distance. Fortunately, nobody was hurt. Unfortunately..." Renfield bursts through the scene, knocking over the board, with me hot on his heels.

Josie taps the space bar again. The video pauses, and she looks up at me with wide eyes.

"What?"

"Didn't you see the video?"

"Yeah. Millions of people just saw me embarrass myself on camera. What's your point?"

"They didn't say goodbye."

"What?"

"The Archivists. They didn't say goodbye before ending the session."

I snort, taken aback. "Well, they didn't exactly have a choice."

"That's bad. If they don't say goodbye, then the ghost is released into the world. It's not tied to the ouija board anymore."

I press my lips together, fighting hard not to laugh. She knows I don't believe in this stuff, but she still seems to expect me to react to this like it's a life-changing calamity. "Josie...

"No, Kaz, I'm serious. They opened a door into the afterlife by inviting anyone to the session, and then didn't close it properly."

"You realize how you sound right now, right? There's no door -- or a metaphysical door," I rush to add before Josie can interrupt. "They were moving the planchette on their own. You know that, don't you? It wouldn't be good content if they don't have something to show for it."

She shoots me a glare.

I feel my jaw tighten, and my brows raise in disbelief.

[They argue.]

"Enough. I don't want to hear it," she says, and stands. "I've got to do some research."

"I'm not letting you into the graveyard after closing," I call, and huff as Josie all but slams the door behind her. I don't mean to antagonize her like this, but we've had this argument a hundred times over. Josie believes in the supernatural as much as she believes in the weather app on her phone. I, meanwhile, have a bit more common sense, and know that a 30% chance of rain means nothing in the middle of summer when we don't see a single cloud for weeks on end. [Find a way to make this less clunky]

[Transition. Something happens. Josie corners Kaz at work. Josie is bringing up the idea of reaching out tot he HA, bringing them back, then...]

I don't even let her finish. "Absolutely not."

"But--"

"I know you're a fan, but this is so wildly inappropriate. I could lose my job over this, and Mr. Ngo would lose any chance of follow ups. Do you know how much they paid for film permits here?"

"Seriously? You're worried about money?"

"A lot, Jo."

"Come on--"

"That money is helping us pay for [something important.] We can't risk losing out on future [whatever]."

Josie shot me a look. "You're just saying no because I'm the one asking you."

"Josie." I mean, she's a little right. I don't want to admit it, especially because I would never agree to this kind of thing anyway unless it was directly from Mr. Ngo, but there's a special sort of vindication in being allowed to refuse Josie this thing that's so incredibly important to her, and is so incredibly out of the realm of realistic expectations.

[Arguing.]

I storm off, leaving Josie in the student union alone, and make a beeline for home. I don’t even think about the route I take until I’m halfway through the graveyard, fists clenched and half blind as the sun sinks further below the horizon.

I can’t help but notice a flower pot besides a grave. The flowers are wilted. I’ll have to replace them on my next shift.

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[doctorguilty]

horror ask game: 2, 3, 22

2. most recent horror movie you watched and hated

This was some months ago lol but Halloween Ends. That movie was SO BAD, in the middle of it I took out my phone and posted like "what the fuck am I watching" on tumblr (you may have been there for that sjfdkgs). I don't even know what they were thinking. It made Halloween Kills look like a masterpiece (which wasn't GREAT, but I did enjoy it, as a fun romp). Why was Michael Myers barely in the movie. the hell was all that.

already did 3

22. a horror character that actually creeps you out/scares you

I had this sitting in my drafts and forgot about it b/c I couldn't think of an answer at the time but I do have one now, it's just that it's kind of depressing and involves IRL death (as in, the fictional character's relationship to a person who died in real life makes me very unsettled when seeing/hearing the character on screen)

so cw for reference to irl death continue at your own risk

so the answer is The Unknown from dbd, and not b/c of the body horror or lore or anything like that

The Unknown was released on March 12th, 2024. It's voiced by talented trans voice actress Zoey Alexandria, who I wasn't familiar with prior to the character's release, but I did look at one of her social medias at some point and saw her talking about how much she loved voicing Unknown. Zoey passed away at age 29 from a rare autoimmune disorder on April 30th, 2024.. less than 2 months after the character's release.

If you're not familiar, Unknown is essentially some kind of ambiguous entity that kills victims and wears their skin in a visually grotesque way. It has voice lines in game that are one of the creepier aspects of it imo. Sometimes the voice is male, sometimes female, they're always varying degrees of garbled, and sometimes they're random nonsense like "have you seen my dog?" and other times they're distressed cries for help like "I need someone.. anyone.. help, please"

They're definitely chilling on their own and, most definitely an awesome case of "she has the range!" re: the transgender actress.

But I have a thing, in general, where I can sometimes feel really disturbed when watching movies/shows/etc that feature a person who I know is now deceased. It's probably a mental illness thing, I don't know, but hearing the voice of/seeing the face of a person doing normal things while they're no longer alive in reality just.. freaks me out. I don't cope well with death in general. I don't like to think too much about or dwell on death irl, even people I don't know or even care about, like celebrities. I start to have some kind of existential dread.

SO the case here with the Unknown... is that its voice actress tragically passed away young so shortly after its debut, which is already an objectively upsetting thing for me to think about, and I can try not to, but ............. whenever I play against the Unknown, and I hear those garbled voices pleading for help, all the hair on my body stands up and my skin crawls

though I don't mean to present this as an objectively bad and scary thing, like, I don't want other people to be upset when they interact with the character. this is my OWN disordered brain stuff, and I try to just remind myself when I'm feeling distraught, that the actress truly loved working on the project and, if anything, it's nice that she got to complete it before her passing, so that she sort of lives on in it (rather than say, needing to be replaced early or something...). and the words themselves are fictional.

but it's probably the most "creeped out" I've ever considered myself about a horror character because ultimately, something stabbing real deep into my psyche like that just by sheer coincidence is undeniably scary, I guess? that's just the way I feel!

[purplesimme]

11 or 9 ?🥺

hi anon i am SO sorry im like four months late i forgot i had this in my drafts but here it is!!!

9. "I can't sleep." & 11. "You're very warm. It's comforting."

Read it on AO3

The best sleep Simon’s ever had happens thanks to a bet.

The Babadook has only been out for around a week, and Simon has already heard so much about it, good and bad, but mostly bad in the good way: apparently it’s scary as shit.

Simon does not doubt this, and he will not go out of his way to disprove it, but now that he has to think of a punishment for Wille after he lost a bet and got a lower score than Simon on their latest math exam, The Babadook is a perfect idea. Betting money would make absolutely no sense, and this is mostly about pride anyway.

“The Babadook,” is all Simon says.

Wille frowns. “The what?”

They’re sitting on the bedroom floor at Simon’s house, clock about to hit 3AM, on a Saturday night.

“You gotta watch the movie. That’s your punishment for losing the bet,” Simon has to clarify, because Wille lost the bet two days ago and Simon took his sweet time coming up with something for Wille to do.

“Fuck no,” comes Wille’s quick reply. “The weird looking bird one?”

And Simon crackles up. “The weird looking bird?”

Wille laughs too, exaggerating to amuse Simon. “With the weird hat? Kinda became a gay icon unintentionally?”

Simon falls on his back, now laughing spread out across the floor. “Yes! The Babadook.”

And maybe making Simon laugh this much is making Wille brave. “Okay, then. I’ll watch it. What do I get when I watch the entire thing?”

Simon takes a second to breathe, still lying on the carpet, and looks at Wille with a big smile on his face he can’t seem to hide. “You don’t get anything. You are doing this because you lost the bet.”

Wille pouts. He moves closer to Simon, on his knees, right above Simon’s face. “Can I get a prize? Pretty please?” He’s doing the puppy eyes thing, and Simon doesn’t want to admit to himself the effect those have on him.

On the outside, Simon only rolls his eyes. “Fine, you get a prize,” he says, because he knows Wille will surrender halfway through.

Wille moves to lie down next to Simon, looking at him. “Do I get to choose the prize?”

Simon stares into Wille’s eyes, a bit mesmerized and distracted. “Sure.” He’s not really thinking right now.

There’s a second of silence as they stare at each other, where everything else disappears– the bet, The Babadook, their surroundings, the house they are in. It’s just them at that moment and nothing else.

Simon has to break the spell if he wants this to get going. “Bet time?” He asks Wille.

Wille leans forward to press a soft kiss against Simon’s lips. “You bet.”

Simon finds the pirated movie on the internet in under three seconds.

“How do you do that?” Wille asks him.

They have now moved to sitting on Simon’s bed right next to each other, a tight fit given it’s a single, but neither of them could ever complain about the extra contact.

“Years of practice,” Simon answers. “I’m sure Your Highness has never had to pirate anything in his life ever.”

Wille can’t argue. “True. Is it like one big site where everyone watches stuff?” Wille has the cutest confused face Simon has ever seen.

Simon doesn’t want to sound condescending, but it’s hard. “You truly have no clue, don’t you?”

Wille shoves him a little, Simon’s shoulder hitting the wall. “I’m trying to learn! Teach me how to pirate stuff.” Simon laughs loudly. “I mean it! I want to be a criminal.”

And Simon just keeps wheezing, unable to take Wille seriously. It’s not long until Wille joins him, knowing how ridiculous he sounded.

Wille would feel shy to call it magic out loud, but in his mind, that’s the only way he could describe this moment.

Wille tags out half an hour into the movie.

“Wille, nothing has happened.” Simon is scared too, but he could go on a good twenty more minutes.

Wille is currently covering his eyes with both hands. “I can’t take it. I can feel something is about to happen and it’s going to be scary.”

Simon is grinning, holding back the giggles, not wanting Wille to hear him laugh at him once again. “That’s kind of the whole point of a horror movie.” Wille doesn’t answer, and Simon waits silently until Wille calms down.

“Okay,” he finally says, hands back on his lap. “You win.”

Simon is pretty happy about it. “Hell yes, I do.”

Wille turns to look at him, another pout on his lips. “Do I get another punishment or something?”

And Simon is just, so, so smitten he cannot torture him any longer. “Nah.” Wille lets out the air he was holding. “I think you’ve suffered enough.”

Wille lies his head on Simon’s shoulder. “I truly have. I’m exhausted. Like,” he clarifies. “Emotionally.”

Once again Simon is tempted to laugh, but instead he only throws his head back and closes his eyes, silently chuckling.

They decide on sleep shortly after that, knowing the sun is rising behind Simon’s curtains even if they can’t see it through the blackout.

Simon could swear it’s only ten minutes later that Wille wakes him up.

He’s startled at first, Wille’s soft voice calling his name, scaring him no matter how gentle Wille is being.

“What is it?” Comes Simon’s slightly panicked voice. For a moment Simon’s own reaction reminds him of how scared his mom gets every time he needs to wake her up. “You okay?”

It’s too dark to see Wille nodding, but Simon can feel the movement right next to him. “I can’t sleep.”

Simon turns on his side to face Wille. “What’s wrong?”

Wille stays quiet a second too long for Simon’s comfort. “Wille?” Simon asks again. “Why can’t you sleep?”

“You’ll laugh,” comes Wille’s tiny voice.

Simon reaches for Wille’s cheek, softly caressing it. “I won’t.”

Wille makes a noise. “Yes, you will.”

Simon is glad Wille can’t see him roll his eyes. “Fine. I promise not to laugh.”

“Pinky promise?” Wille quickly asks.

“Pinky promise. Whatever promise. Spill it.”

Simon feels Wille take a deep breath before confessing, “I swear to God, I just saw The Babadook standing at the door.”

Simon laughs, obviously. In his defense, they never hooked pinkies. Wille doesn’t say anything, but Simon can imagine the frown on his face at the broken promise. “What do you mean see? It’s pitch dark.”

“I knew you would laugh!” Honestly, what was Wille expecting? “I saw him. Like, in my brain. I can picture him staring at us right now.”

Simon shuts Wille up with a kiss, and he can feel Wille relax at the contact.

“Better?” Simon asks him once he pulls away.

Wille nods again. "You're very warm. It's comforting."

“Glad I can help,” Simon says, the biggest smile on his face. It’s a sentence that doesn’t cut it anywhere close to how truly glad Simon is he can make Wille feel safe.

“We can go back to sleep,” Wille tells him. “Sorry for waking you up.”

Simon reaches forward to kiss Wille’s forehead. “No worries. Want me to hold you?” Simon asks, because he’s sure that’s what Wille needs right now.

Wille doesn’t answer with words, instead moves even closer to Simon, his head resting against Simon’s chest.

Simon has to move around a bit to accommodate Wille’s body. It’s only by chance that, in the motion, Simon feels Wille’s cock, hard in his sweatpants.

It shocks Simon into waking up. “Are you fucking turned on by this?” Simon asks, very alarmed.

Wille starts laughing, Simon feeling the vibration against his chest. “Sorry,” Wille says. He doesn’t sound too sorry. “This is how I cope with fear.”

Simon begins laughing too, so loudly he covers his mouth with a hand before he wakes someone up. When he manages to calm down he adds, “You cope with fear by getting hard?”

Wille shrugs in Simon’s arms. “I just figure, if a ghost or whatever was about to kill me and they saw me starting to jerk off, they’d feel too awkward and would leave me alone.”

Simon is giggling again. “Actually, that kind of makes sense.”

“Of course it does!” Wille says. “Wouldn’t you feel awkward?”

Instead of answering, Simon kisses Wille way too deeply.

“Alright,” Simon says against Wille’s lips. He reaches a hand inside Wille’s pants before telling him, “How about we kindly ask The Babadook to fuck off?”

Wille’s response is an eager moan. “Yeah,” he adds. “Fuck off Babadook.”

[brawlite]

hello!! i come seeking advice - how do you know when a fic is finished and to put down the pen? i'm currently writing a fic after a long dry spell but i think it's done and yet can't stop going back to fuss over it instead of just posting. and every time i do add something new but it's like. changing a few words here and there and yet i do tire of the fic. i feel as if i am in writing purgatory

AAAAA fuck i'm so sorry i meant to answer this earlier and then totally forgot. gosh. yikes.

anyway—it's sometimes real fucking difficult to know when something is done. you asked this right after i posted a fic that i had been sitting on for months thinking it needed thousands of more words, and that seemed daunting as hell—when in fact it really only needed to be wrapped up with a couple hundred more words and a bow.

that's my suggestion, though: sometimes you just need some time and space away from something to see how close it really is to done. if you can't tell if it's finished, make yourself stop, take a step back, and then come back to it in a bit. or, if you're in a rush, do something that puts some distance between you and it—print it out. put it into a different font. read it on your phone. put it in an ao3 draft and pretend its not yours. any number of things, just pretend it's done!

as for endings themselves (which i don't think was your actual question, but): maybe think about it different ways, like—would i like it more if it ended this way, that way, if i added a whole thing here? if i changed all the prose there? and/or my personal favorite: what if i lobbed some off the end and ended it early.

and sometimes, even if you think you're not done but can't tell? you probably are. toss that sucker out into the world and let it soar. it's ready. a few words here or there won't change it. and if you really want to, you can always come back and change more words later. that's a tried-and-true fandom thing: the rewrite.

anyway, i'm sorry this is late. i hope you figured this out and have posted by now. but if you havent, i hope you've now had the time to be able to make this call! let that baby be free!

[polysyndetonaddictsupportgroup]

My thoughts on Mai is probably so irrelevant right now but i love thinking about the wasted potential in exploring Megumi’s dynamic with the Zenin Clan because he had to have some contact with them over the course of his childhood, meaning that Mai had to interact with the kid at some point (which she did I think it’s canon) and for Mai to instantly know that Megumi is a little child genius/prodigy. Also for Mai to have a little crush on Megumi (I know most find this disgusting seeing that those two are family but I think everyone forgets that the Zenin is built on incest)

Mai putting her hopes into Megumi of him somewhat changing the Zenin when he becomes Clan Head only for those hopes to be crushed bc Megumi fucked off? I find that so depressing because she probably didn’t understand (or fully comprehend) the reasoning behind Megumi cutting off contact. I know it probably hurt her for a while because she genuinely wanted to be close to him seeing as he was the only boy (i’m assuming) that was ever truly kind to her and her sister.

I’m clinging onto that Mai tag for dear life because I’m really interested in seeing her thoughts on Megumi. Admittedly, she probably grew out of the hero worship she had for him. Maybe it was replaced with some bitterness seeing as he wouldn’t be the Clan Head now unless something happens to Gojo, so Megumi won’t be her hope in that clan. She’s stuck with Naoya who probably wants her as a wife.

NAOYA. God my thoughts on his dynamic with Megumi…it could be something so complex. Like Naoya could see Toji in the boy, who he has an obsession with but he also see Gojo, and he also see the little brat who may fear him on some level but is not afraid to stand up to him which pisses him off. He also sees his replacement, a boy who has the potential to rival Gojo, making him the potential heir. I could see him being like the only one out of the Zenin who wants that kid gone, out of sight and out of mind. Like everyone else abuses him to make him become something great. Naoya would do it to take out his anger on the kid who is everything he always wanted to be and he doesn’t even know it.

Naobito. I have no thoughts on the old drunk. I do find it interesting how Kamo said something about how Megumi is either more useful or more suitable than Naobito. I forgot the wording. I can see Naobito truly caring for Megumi though in his own fucked up way because Megumi is everything he wanted in a heir. But that care doesn’t really stop him from hurting Megumi.

Maki. Well. Best aunt/nephew duo. If the Zenin ever had a family dinner or get together, those two are definitely the ones who sits in the corner and talks shit. They definitely try and fuck shit up in the house. You would find them in the kitchen spitting in Naoya’s food. You’re gonna look me in the eyes and tell me I’m wrong? I dare you. All in all, they see a sibling in each other. Especially after losing Tsumiki/Mai. Megumi if definitely her favorite kouhai. Some may argue it’s Nobara. But listen. SEE THE VISION. Megumi has the family pass. Megumi gets Maki in a way that most don’t. But Megumi is still Yuta’s boy though. Maki sometimes fight for custody however.

Excuse my rambling guys. I was just in a silly mood thinking about Gege and his….questionable writing decisions lately.

This has been sitting half answered in my asks for like a month. If you have an ask that never got answered please know that it’s probably in my drafts haunting me.

Oh Gege’s sure. Made some decisions recently. And they’re uh. They sure are decisions. That he made. For some reason.

Maki and Megumi are the bio family dream team to me. I simply love their bond. They have identical resting bitch faces. They’re always on the same bullshit. Both are completely insane in the same way. The bio family they each always wanted but never had. Megumi is Yuuta’s Boy but that doesn’t stop Maki from making her own play for the title.

Mai’s entire thing with having a crush on Megumi becomes a little bit more comfortable if it’s framed like “he was the best option.” The Zenin do practice incest, so her entire dating pool was likely framed to her as blood family from the start. She also is the only female (other than Maki) born to that bloodline around clan leadership that we know of, so she was probably viewed as a “desirable” spouse. Marriage was probably used as a means of navigating social status, so her parents are probably planning to use her as a chip for their own political games now that their own future has sort of stagnated. After all, both their kids are sort of failures by Zenin standards, and they don’t have any other kids incoming that could do better. This is basically canon to me—they did try to make a marriage contract with Naoya, who’s very high in the clans leadership and the only other contender for clan head other than Megumi himself. She’s probably spent her entire life knowing that her parents would try for marry her off to the person in the clan with the highest status, and that’s probably been considered Naoya or one of his brothers for a long time.

There’s Naobito, the actual clan head, who appears to have had all sons. Toji appears to be Naobito’s nephew, meaning his father or mother was directly from that same line, and Megumi’s its continuation. And Naobito’s brother is Maki and Mai’s father, who produced the only girls.

The Zenin clan values power above all else, so we can assume that the line that is leading the clan tends to have a lot of cursed energy and skill. Mai and Maki didn’t get that, but they are still close tie to the line.

Mai was never supposed to be a jujutsu sorcerer. She didn’t have enough cursed energy for it. She only ended up going to the Kyoto school because Maki fucked off and the Zenin wanted to make a point. But we know how the Zenin treats women—since she didn’t have enough potential to be a sorcerer but was a member of a powerful bloodline who had cursed energy herself, she was probably viewed as a prime candidate to continue the family line, as seen with them trying to marry her off to fucking Naoya, who was a pretty high candidate for heir to the clan.

Of course, Megumi inherited the Ten Shadows. He actually did beat out Naoya for the position of heir without having put any effort or involvement into the position. He likely would have instantly shot to the top of the list for clan heir the second they knew he existed. Like, he was still installed as clan head when he actively had nothing to do with the clan. When he was a kid, and everyone was assuming they’d be able to bring him back into the clan and raise him as Zenin? It would probably be considered as close to an absolute as anything gets to them.

I could see Mai kind of romanticizing the idea of Megumi as a result, especially when she was younger Naoya was actively abusive to her and had the personality of a used gym sock dipped in shit and left on highway to rot. Megumi 1) wasn’t raised with them, so felt the least like her family 2) was actually nice to her, the one time she got to spend time with him and 3) was nice to Maki. And as bad as it was for Mai, Maki was the least accepted member of the clan at the time. She was a girl and she had little to no cursed energy. Mai canonically idolised her sister as a young girl and probably hated to see how everyone mistreated her.

Megumi intervening on her behalf when Naoya targeted her would have been monumental to her. It would have been the ultimate way of saying “everything will be okay” when she just didn’t have that sense of the future growing up.

For one thing, Megumi was guaranteed to have a position of extreme authority within the clan itself as he got older. But when he intervened on her behalf, he didn’t.

He didn’t save Mai with his own authority within the clan. He didn’t extend his protection over her, because he didn’t have any protection. When they finally all got caught, the first thing Naoya did was strike him across the face hard enough to knock him over.

They all got beaten horribly for that stunt. And they all expected it from the start, because that’s what their family did.

Megumi stuck his neck out for her. He took a beating because he didn’t like Naoya bullying her around. He intervened for Mai when it was to his own direct detriment, and she never forgot it. Her own parents weren’t doing that.

Which meant that she sort of hoped that when Megumi got older and became an authority in the clan, people would stop hurting her entirely.

Megumi didn’t have the authority as a little kid to just order Naoya to fuck off, but he was pretty much guaranteed to have it one day. There had always been people in the clan where, if you had their favor, no one could touch you. Mai had just never had anyone’s favor before. But Megumi was the Ten Shadows, and he was practically cosmically ordained as the most important person in their clan in five hundred years, and he was kind to her, and he said they could be friends. He said they’d stay friends.

It cost Megumi a lot to protect her as kids. It gave her a lot of very real hope that he’d keep doing it when it cost him nothing, and that there would come a day where it would just stop hurting so much.

And it wasn’t just her. It was also a future where Maki could maybe be happy.

One of the central facets of Mai’s character is that she desperately wishes for a world where Maki would have stayed in the clan with her. She wanted Maki to keep her promise. She wanted Maki to just be content doing a few chores and keeping her head down.

At this time, Maki hadn’t broken her promise yet, but I think that Mai still wanted that as their future. Her and Maki together, with Maki never leaving her, and both of them safe in the compound from the curses that terrified Mai.

Even if Megumi was nice to her, there should have been the lingering doubt as to whether he would also make the clan safe for Maki, but that fear got shattered when she joined them in Mai’s hideout.

He didn’t treat her like garbage. He said that they could be friends too. Maki bossed him around while they played, and the most he did was grumble at her. He treated Maki better than their own parents were treating them, and he did it without a thought.

So yeah. Mai had a lot of hopes pinned on Megumi when she was a very young girl. And I think if she had any feelings for him, it was more trying to force herself to have those feelings, because the world he offered was by far the one she wanted the most. Whether she was in love with him was almost the least important consideration.

If Mai was going to be married off to the heir to the clan, better Fushiguro “respect women” Megumi than Zenin “if she breathes she’s a thot” Naoya. He made her see a future she and Maki could be happy in for once, and then it all got ripped away.

I definitely see Mai as having a lot of bitterness towards Megumi leaving the clan, but I don’t think it was initially against him. I think she was initially bitter as hell against gojo. She was a little kid buying into the propaganda, which is that it wasn’t their Ten Shadows rejecting them, no, it was gojo stealing him away. That’s definitely changed and developed over the years, but I won’t say how.

[marshmellowtea]

um. so. y'all are not going to believe this but i've had this goddamn fic finished for MONTHS but i fucking FORGOT??? IT WAS HERE??? IT'S JUST BEEN SITTING IN MY DRAFTS BECAUSE I FORGOR I HAD THIS BASICALLY FINISHED FIC JUST WAITING TO BE EDITED AND PUBLISHED HGKLDSJFLKSD 😭

ahem. anyway. sorry for yelling lmao. onto the actual fic summary—basically, i decided to write this silly little thing about human, arospec lila trying to talk about a newly formed crush with an aroacespec will. it's very silly and fluffy and writing it made me giggle a lot, don't expect much angst here, aside from like a sprinkling of it for flavor lmao. that being said, small warning for some toxic queerplatonic partner vibes between will and lila, but the vibe is still mostly lighthearted, it's not too heavy or extreme. also, they're working on it, okay :') they're teenagers who grew up in abusive/traumatizing environments (which isn't referenced in the fic but it definitely shapes the way i characterize them), they don't exactly know how to navigate a healthy relationship yet but they're trying goddammit dskjfkdsafj

.....uh, if it's not obvious, i don't remember how i do summaries on tumblr fics ngl. there'll probably be a cleaner one when this gets posted onto ao3 in a day or two, so watch out for that if you'd prefer to read this on there :P tbh depending on how tired i am when i get home from work i might just go ahead and post it on there later today anyway oops

anyway, onto the fic now, hope y'all enjoy! :)

William's curled up on his side, his upper body in Lila's lap and her hands kneading though his hair in a way that mostly feels good, when she suddenly asks the question.

"Is it called a crush because you want to crush them?"

If this were closer to the beginning of their friendship, when he wasn't already used to weird comments like these from her, William might've sat up in shock, giving her a wide eyed expression of surprise she loves to make fun of him for. This is far from the most outrageous thing she's ever said to him at this point, however, so instead, he just furrows his brow and shifts in her lap a little, not even bothering to open his eyes.

"Lila, what on earth are you talking about...?"

She's quiet for a moment, her hands pausing in his hair. He lets out a little whine at the loss of feeling, and she huffs softly before continuing, using a little bit more of her nails than she was before.

"Let's say...like...maybe there's this person someone thinks is...pretty," she says, the words awkward and stilted in a way he's never heard from her before. "And because they're so pretty, that person keeps...fantasizing about...squeezing them. In their arms. Or under them."

"Ew," he says on instinct, his fingers moving to fiddle with the black ring around the middle finger of his left hand. "Is this hypothetical person you, Lila?"

"No, dumbass!" she says, and, well, that almost sounds convincing. "I'm just...asking. For a friend."

"But I'm your only friend?" he asks, genuinely confused. His confusion then turns to pain, however, as she pulls on his hair—apparently she found that insulting. "Ow! Lila!"

"I have friends. Mainly friends you picked out for us—" and here, she huffs, sounding put upon about his choice in companionship, as though she has no choice in whether she hangs out with them too, "—but friends nonetheless."

...okay, admittedly, he understands where the offense came from now. But still, she claims that he's her only friend enough that of course he would make that assumption, and it's kind of not fair for her to punish him for words he's repeating from her. And also, he must reiterate, ow.

"Anyway, it's for a friend," she insists, sounding a bit wounded. "God. Don't be a smartass, Will, it's not flattering on you."

"I'm not trying to be a smartass, you're just—ugh, nevermind," he grumbles, letting his eyes flutter open and sulking at a vague point in the distance. His hand drifts toward the hem of her skirt, and he plays with it absently, rubbing his fingers over the soft fabric. "Putting all that aside, well...um, sorry to your friend, but I don't think I'm the right person to ask about that. I still don't really...understand all that stuff."

"Ugh, right, I forgot you were a fucking loser."

"I'm not a loser!" he protests, but he immediately feels childish for it. He flips onto his stomach to hide his face in her lap, and is instantly rewarded with one of her hands on the nape of his neck, a warm, comforting weight. "That stuff is just...really complicated..."

"Yeah, well, that's cuz you're a loser who's bad with people, it's okay to admit it."

There's a twinge of fondness to the insult, and despite himself, he finds himself smiling a little at her tone. Still, he decides to retaliate by lightly pinching her on the calf, just under the crook of her knee.

"Ow! Will!"

She then retaliates to him by pulling on his hair again, harder this time despite only using one hand this time. He lets out a sharp cry of pain and smacks her on the knee, pulling out of her lap briefly to escape her wrath. She drops her hands once he's fully off of her and sitting up on his knees, and he scowls at her unamusedly. She scowls back at him, the two of them staring at each other for a moment with equal mild annoyance.

Then, face unchanging, Lila pats her thigh, looking even more annoyed when he doesn't immediately lay back down. "Well?"

He huffs, but obliges, flopping back in her lap, this time on his back so he can continue to scowl at her. One of her hands returns to his hair, and the other one grabs one of his hands, though it feels less like she's just trying to hold his hand and more like she's trying to restrain him from pinching her again. Which, really, is super unfair, given that he only pinched her because she was being mean to him. And she pulled his hair first. And because she always does shit like that to him, and he deserves a chance to defend himself...

...but she is petting his hair in a way he likes again, and her face has softened a little, her lips now in that tiny but genuine sort of half smile he's only seen her use on him. He smiles back at her, wobbly and crooked but just as genuine, letting out a little laugh despite how genuinely annoyed he was moments prior.

"You're the worst," he says, and though he kind of means it he also says it with all the affection in the world. "I am sorry I can't answer your question, though."

"Hey, you also suck," Lila says back, but she coos it in the same tone you'd use on a mischievous kitten. "And it's fine, honestly. It wasn't a serious question, anyway. I was just wondering."

They fall quiet for a moment, and William's eyes fall to their enjoined hands, watching as Lila idly traces his fingers with her thumb. He's struck, then, with the oddest thought—that being, the thought that he does love her, in some weird way, despite the constant bickering and occasional minor physical attacks. That no matter how hard she makes it for him, he cares about her, and he wishes she would let him do that without constantly trying to fight on him on it. That he's glad she loves him too, in her own weird way, because he knows she does but he rarely gets to hear her say it out loud.

Not that he could ever say all that to her, of course. She'd probably just make fun of him.

Instead, he says, "If it is you with the crush...you know I'd be here to listen if you wanted to talk about it, right?"

He's fully prepared to let the conversation end there, but she surprises him by letting out a sigh and saying, "I don't even know if it is a crush."

He raises his eyebrows at that, trying not to get too excited at the information he was just given. She'd hate it if he said it out loud, but she's really easy to scare away on these rare moments where she's being open or vulnerable. "What do you mean?" he asks, trying not to let his voice soften too much.

She groans loudly at that, but she hasn't stopped talking, which, score. "I dunno, William, like...the crush question was kind of a joke? But it also kind of wasn't?"

"...elaborate?"

She groans louder, loud enough to startle him a little. She must feel him jump, because she gives his forehead a light pat before entangling her fingers back in his curls, the hair petting having mostly stopped now. "When I think about this person...I want to hold them as tight as possible and not let go. And squeeze their hand and just...hold it. And..." She grimaces, like it pains her to admit it. "And kiss them, maybe. On their stupid fucking face. Among...other things that I suppose I will graciously spare you."

She taps his ring as she says that, making him giggle. "Thank you. I appreciate that," he says, smiling broadly up at her for a moment, before his face falls back into an inquisitive frown. "Uh, but, Lila? I'm no expert, but that...kind of sounds like a crush? I think?"

Lila chews on her lip for a moment, as if considering what she's going to say next. When she finally speaks, William feels his heart cease to beat in his chest.

"I know, but like...a lot of that is stuff I want to do with you."

William feels his face grow hot, and he stammers, ice cold panic rushing through his veins. Yeah, he loves Lila, but it's not—it's not like that, he's not comfortable with—she knows he's not—

"Not the—not the sex stuff!" Lila says suddenly, giving him a harsh shake. "I didn't say I wanted to do all of that with you, take a fucking breath, Will!"

Oh, he did stop breathing for a second there, didn't he? He inhales deeply as she told him to, letting her lightly push him upright into a sitting position on the bed. He twists around a bit so the two of them are side by side, and she immediately tugs him closer until his head is on her shoulder, awkwardly patting his back in a way he thinks she thinks is comforting. It's a little much, honestly, given that his moment of panic really was just a moment—it was instant relief hearing that she wasn't into him in that way, and it was kind of silly for his brain to jump to that conclusion in the first place anyway since he mostly knows where they'd drawn the lines in their relationship, even if they've never properly talked about it—but he likes these rare occasions where she attempts to fuss over him, so he's not going to protest it. It's kind of sweet, really, even if it's obvious that she has no idea how to comfort another human being.

"Ugh," she says, sounding more embarrassed than exasperated. "Ugh, I said that in the stupidest way, sorry." Then, after a pause, she adds, "I mean...it's all just stupid, anyway."

"Aww, no it's not," William says gently, very comfortable in his place nestled against her side. "I guess I get what you mean though. I know I don't have a crush on you, but I like cuddling you and stuff. I'd also feel weird if I suddenly felt the same thing toward someone else but with...other stuff too."

"Yeah," Lila says, sounding mopey. Probably because she's moping, if he had to guess. "It's not just that, either, wanting to touch this person the way I touch you also feels...different. Different in a way that's hard to pin down." She grabs his hand, having lost it in the shuffle of him sitting up, and once again starts tracing his fingers, running her thumb from the back of his hand, over his knuckles, down to his fingernails. "Like when I do this, it's nice, but I don't do it and think about you as my boyfriend. That'd be disgusting."

William barks out a laugh at that. Technically, it could be an insult toward him, but... "I understand what you're getting at, yeah. I want to be close to you, but you're not, like, my girlfriend or anything, and I wouldn't really want you to be. You're just my friend, but, like...a friend I want to cuddle sometimes."

"Stop saying that we cuddle," Lila scoffs, but the usual harshness of her tone is still rather muted. "But...yeah. Exactly. It's different, and it's weird."

William hums sympathetically, giving her arm a light pat. "Yeah," he says quietly. "That does sound weird." Then, after a pause, "I'm sorry. I wish I could help you more."

Lila huffs, letting her cheek rest against his head. "I wish you could help me more too," she bemoans, interlocking their fingers and giving his hand a light squeeze. "But, whatever. Just talking about it was nice, so you're not completely useless..."

Once again, William just chuckles at that. He can hear the unsaid Thank you in her voice, and he appreciates it, even if he does wish she would just be straightforwardly nice to him sometimes. Hell, not even just to him, oftentimes he wishes she would be nice in general.

But...she's working on it. He thinks. There's been a notable difference in the way she speaks to Martha, Ellie, and Regina, anyway. She's still on guard around Jim and Mike, and god, he doesn't really know what her deal with Tanya is, but she's friendlier with those three, at least. And...she's been more gentle with him, too. At the very least there's been less pinching.

He's proud of her. Which is another thing he can't tell her if he doesn't want her to laugh in his face, but, hey. Maybe one of these days.

"...you wanna lay down now?"

Her question pulls him out of his introspection, and William hums in assent, finally pulling his head off of her shoulder. "Are we gonna take a nap now?" he asks, rubbing at his face absently. "I got pretty close to falling asleep before, well, you know."

She sniffs, pulling her legs up on the bed and stretching out behind him, her arms and legs reaching each end of the mattress before she rolls back onto her side and brings them back in again. "I mean, you can sleep if you want. I don't know if I will."

"You're not at all tired?" he asks, curling up on his side next to her. They're face to face, now, and he can see the exhaustion in her face, as well as the slight flush left over from their conversation.

"Not really," she sniffs. "I mean, I don't think I am enough to fall asleep. I just want to rest my eyes a little."

"Oh, okay," he says, scooting a little closer to her. "I might fall asleep. You didn't want to talk more, did you?"

Lila shakes her head rather than verbally answer, and William smiles to himself. She's probably going to fall asleep too, judging by the way she's gotten quieter, but even if she doesn't, he knows she'll let him sleep if he needs to. Unless something important happens. Or if she gets too bored, which is something important in Lila's eyes.

She kind of is the worst, but luckily for her, he kind of does love her.

He lets his eyes fall closed then, pressing further into her warmth until he's tucked up under her chin. She doesn't fight him on it, instead wrapping a loose arm over him, and he knows he's very close to drifting off when he hears her ask one last thing.

"You're really not going to ask who my hypothetical crush is on, are you?"

It's an interesting remark—it almost sounds like she's disappointed. Still, it's not interesting enough for him to open his eyes. "I kinda figured I wouldn't be able to get it out of you," he mumbles, his voice muffled by her collarbone. "Why?"

"...I dunno. I just thought you would ask," she says, starting to sound close to sleep herself.

"Did you want me too?"

"No." She says it too quickly. And then amends, "Maybe..."

He laughs sleepily, resting one curled up hand on the small of her waist, wanting to be closer, trying to absorb the warmth she's emanating—she's always run weirdly warm, while he runs weirdly cold. He tries not too think too hard about the way that makes them fit so well together. "Tell you what. When I wake up, I'll pester you about it as much as you want me to. Is that okay?"

"I didn't want you to pester me," she protests, scowl audible in her voice. "Just ask."

He laughs again, suddenly overwhelmed with a feeling of contentment. "'m gonna pester you so hard," he mumbles, picturing the dirty look he knows she's giving him despite his still closed eyes. "'m not gonna leave you alone until you give me answers. S'only fair."

"How's that fair?"

"I mean...you pester me when I try to keep secrets from you."

"I don't..." Lila protests, but she sounds amusingly unsure. "Besides, since when did you try to keep secrets from me anyway...?"

"Mm. I stopped tryin' cuz you'd always get them outta me."

"Well, that just sounds like your fault."

"...maybe you've got me there," he mumbles, chuckling softly. "I jus' think it's my turn to needle somethin' out of you this time, mmkay?"

"Yeah, well, good luck with that," Lila grumbles, making him giggle more.

The two of them then lapse into a comfortable silence, aside from their quiet breathing. William is just about asleep when he feels more than hears Lila murmur something against his hair.

"Love you, Will. No matter what happens."

He smiles widely at that. She must think he's asleep—rarely does she say that she loves him without him saying it first. Even then, he usually receives it with a (nonetheless fond) eye roll, so hearing it now sounding so genuine is a nice treat.

"Love you too, Lila," he mumbles back, his voice slurred from exhaustion. "Love you so so much."

Given the way she tenses, he was probably right in thinking that she thought he was asleep. Still, she doesn't respond with a protest or a quip like she normally does, whether because of her tiredness, or maybe she just wanted to let a nice moment linger for once. Either way, he'll count that as a win.

It doesn't take him long to drift off after that, the smile not leaving his face even as he sleeps.

[takoyakitenchou]

hikari’s commission

i have come back from the dead to drop the final chapter (i skipped all the middle ones lol) of renaissance, my totsuki legacies headcanon babies or whatever. feat arato-hayama daughter and nakiri-yukihira daughter mostly

“It’s about time I redesigned Legislation,” Kaede said through the pencil between her teeth, her broad draftbook propped open on her knees. “This looks absolutely horrendous.” She was sitting on the decadent rug in Hikari’s office at Administration wearing boardshorts and one of Hikari’s crop tanks with old sketches of Totsuki’s current Legislation building spread around her.

Hikari sighed resignedly. “So you’ve said.”

Dropping the pencil to her lap, Kaede closed her draftbook and said, “I’ll have blueprints for you by next week. But that’s not important right now. Hikari, what’s wrong?”

“Why would something be wrong?” asked the chef. “Other than the fact that I forgot your 18th fucking birthday two months ago.”

Kaede rolled her eyes. “Since when have you ever remembered my birthday? You’re wearing a shirt with sleeves. There is most definitely something wrong.” She set aside her drafting materials and scooted over next to Hikari. “I know you only called me here to talk. If this was an actual commission, the current fourth seat would’ve contacted me. Did you even tell Eissan that you’re diving into Totsuki’s budget? He’ll go loopy if the monthly statement doesn’t match his record books.”

“Oh, yeah. About that. I’m not really on speaking terms with him right now.”

Kaede blanched. “Eh?”

All traces of her typical badass nature lost to the winds, Hikari rested her head against Kaede’s shoulder. “I broke up with him.” 

Fuck.

There wasn’t anything she could say that would give justice to the overwhelming gravity of the statement, so Kaede pulled Hikari closer and held her in silence for a long while.

“So… you mind telling me what happened?”

“Nothing, actually. I realized I don’t want to narrow my field of vision just because he seems like the right person… right now. What was it you said? Better to break his heart now rather than later when he’s too far in.”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t want Seiya to not be in my life.”

Kaede smiled gently and shifted to face her. They were both cross-legged and their knees were touching. “Of course. But it’s going to take a while for Eissan to realize he can’t call you his girlfriend anymore. You have to give him his grace period. But don’t linger.”

“Of course not,” Hikari replied, leaning back on her elbows. “I don’t change my mind.”

“I know you don’t.”

“I don’t mean to pry, but I just want to know… why did you and Tsukasa break up?”

At this the architect gave Hikari a long look, her heterochromatic eyes suddenly full of recollections. “We were incompatible,” Kaede replied finally, and her voice was clipped.

“You must’ve hurt him pretty bad,” Hikari said, knowing this girl only spoke like that when she was feeling regret.

“Yeah.”

It occurred to Kaede then that she would give up any commission to see Hikari. She’d choose this silver haired chef with a mutant nose over the New York Times, the prime minister of Finland, the governor of California, a thousand awards and infinite accolades. Every day, any day, she would come back for Arato-Hayama Hikari the second she called.

“You’re thinking aloud again,” Hikari chuckled.

“Shut up.”

“Would you really, though?”

“What?”

“Give up your work for me.”

Kaede gave her a look and remained silent for a long moment. “Of course.”

At this, Hikari sat up and leaned forward. “And what if I told you I want you around all the time?”

“Then… I guess I would stay.” 

-

If Kaede had been a chef, tonight would’ve been her gradfest. Following the graduation ceremony in the morning, the legacies of Totsuki’s 90, 91, and 92nd generations were now gathered in the ballroom of Nakiri Mansion with their parents to celebrate the end of another era of jewels at the academy.

Despite their typical inclinations to network and hold court, Kaede and Hikari hovered in the periphery of the area, staying within a few meters of the bar. 

There was something different between them — it was foreign but not unwelcome. Something passionate, vibrant, and utterly charged.

Hikari looked up at Kaede over her champagne flute. She was wrapping up a conversation with Erina and Hisako about designing a building for their first joint venture because seriously what the fuck had taken them so long. Her strawberry blonde hair was tied in a high ponytail, her angular face framed with loose strands. God, her eyes. The light from the chandeliers overhead glanced off those dangerous panes of glass, more electric than lightning. 

“Is it weird,” Hikari asked the three of them once the flow of words had more or less stagnated, “that I find my childhood best friend ridiculously attractive? Like… hella fucking cute?”

Kaede frowned, and for a second Hikari thought she registered a flicker of disappointment in her eyes. “I mean, not really. He’s gorgeous. Isn’t he taken, though?”

“Sorry?”

Erina said, “I thought he was dating Marui Sena.”

“Aren’t you talking about Auden?” Hisako asked.

Hikari shook her head. “I’m not talking about him.”

Kaede finished off her mimosa and gave an eyebrow raise. “Who is this childhood friend? Do I need to interrogate someone to make sure they deserve you?”

“I’ll help,” Hisako put in. “Private Investigator Arato is a little rusty but back in business.”

Without another word, before she could register the fact that everyone — their parents included — was watching them, Hikari leaned in and kissed Yukihira Kaede.

It was a fucking war. Blazing, intense.

And yet it was like the ripples in a pond. Quiet, serene.

Hikari noted with moderate amusement that Kaede was one hell of a good kisser. Whether this was due to her inherited god tongue was up to debate, but she had no time to wonder because it hit her then that Kaede was kissing her back. She set down her flute and swiveled to pin the architect against the bar, threading her fingers through her hair, closing a distance between them that did not exist. It was rare for Arato-Hayama Hikari to be more in tune with her tongue than her nose, but Kaede’s lips were warm and soft, sweet and salty at the same time, rendering everything else insignificant. Spices, mint, champagne.

When they finally came up for air, Kaede’s eyes were glazed over, the flaring purple and amber lights dimmed to a glossy ambience. But then she blinked and her expression cleared, and she commented drily, “I guess no vicious interrogation session?”

Hikari smirked as Kaede placed her glass down with all the acute precision that her occupation demanded.

“Hayama, what if I break your heart?”

“You won’t, Nakiri,” she replied, and then she kissed the architect again, ignoring their mothers’ ecstatic whooping and the congratulatory racket of everyone else in the ballroom. And that was more than enough.

This was the renaissance of emotions they’d tamped down— 

No, that wasn’t it. That wasn’t it at all.

This was genesis.

[habizuh-studios]

hiii Habi :D for the wip game: ballads of time and war? 👀

HI ROSE (AGAIN)!!! thanks for the ask!! <3

erm okay so!! it's basically about this guy named haoru who's in a war- he got drafted and has no where else to go so might as well- against like. opposing nation obviously. he's doing as well as anyone can until this guy named kaitoki (not the new zealand thing i swear) crashes in and is like "uhh yo is this the first or second war?" and haoru is like WHAT THE FUCK. THERE'S A SECOND ONE????

shenanigans ensue with haoru trying to stop the second war n stuff :3 erm there's a whole cast and i got the whole ass concept down but i'm remaking it bc the 3k i wrote so far is actually ass since i didnt outline it LMAO

in case u wanna read more bc i like yapping- also spoilers for when i actually post it which might be in like a year or two idk

OH SHIT AND I FORGOT TO MENTION. magic is born from tragedy

so haoru has a dead dad kaveh style and an abusive mom bc why not but she died a few months before he got drafted. anyway he used to live in literally the middle of no where on the upperside of a clean river near mountains and stuff. but he gets drafted and readily seasoned (re: traumatized) for preparation... he can cook on his own and has a supperrr high pain tolerance and he likes laying down on the grass and picking clovers and looking at clouds and like . stuff +++ later when kaitoki pulls a shen qingqiu he gets magic bc he's the first magic user and magic is born from tragedy and i kinda cooked w that concept ngl

kaitoki is a time traveller who left a sick sister behind when some acorn guy gave him a talisman that could let him travel to the past. he's a huge history nerd but his mom owns a fashion shituffy thing and he revolutionizes fashoin because SPOILERS he doesn't go back to the future because he was "born in the wrong generation" kids these days amiright- *gets shot*

acorn hair guy. dont have a name for him yet... uh anyway he's super creative but he's kinda forgotten in his family so when he got drafted it was probably for the best but he's pretty normal. except for the fact that he's SUPER FUCKING SMART and INVENTS TIME TRAVEL. and he travels to the future near the end of his arc never to be seen again (re: he goes to the future, brings kaitoki to the past bc he recognizes him, and lives an ordinary life :3)

there's this girl named natsumi who's pretending to be her twin brother to pay off a family debt. she's super rich but like dont ask why there's debt bc i havent worked out the kinks and notches yet. anyway. she's good at playing string instruments and doing idk things ppl do in ladylike classes (THAT EXIST BTW. my friend used go to to them. they teach u how to "sit properly" and other etiquette stuff it's weird imo) but yeah!! she's soo stubborn and loves money bc it's been drilled into her head by her parents (since they were born poor) that money is sacred etc etc.

her twin brother, nasumo, is super chill and sweet and nice. the opposite of his sister, basically, but not as important to the story LOLOL. his boyfriend is the one who persuaded natsumi to take his place. theyre gonna frolick off to the city and take over the family business since natsumi's not there or some shit idk

uhhh there are these two other ppl who have their own shit going on. one of them is a tRAITOR and betrays everyone and the other one (when he's about to get executed) is like i understand, i'd put my country before you too. and i'm sorry. i wish we weren't like this. but i'll still live for you. yeah theyre kinda hetero dont ask me ask the author

hmmm uhh pretty sure the king on the opposing side (of mc/haoru's side) is corrupt and was killed and replaced without the public knowing?? and kaitoki pulls a shen qingqiu once but it's all good in the end

kaitoki revolutionizes fashion, haoru lives happily with everyone, natsumi goes back and inherits family business, nasumo and his boyfriend help in her business, the girl who's dead friend was the traitor might have died i haven't decided yet. acorn guy is in the future doing god knows what since he's tryna learn what kaitoki's life was like. the second war... well, it was really far off from the first, so who knows if that happens..