#this is what we call bad news bears

[xenomorphicdna]

Uh oh

@xenomorphicdna I compel you to explode <3

[genderqueerdykes]

when i tell people i only use it/its pronouns and that they feel euphoric and like i'm being referred to correctly, most people's immediate gut reaction is "i don't like that, i would be so uncomfortable being referred to as it/its."

i have great news for you! you won't be addressed by it/its pronouns! i will be! lucky for you, these are my pronouns, not yours, and at no point will you ever be referred to by it unless you explicitly ask me to!

whenever i explain that i feel great discomfort and dysphoria being referred to by they, he, or she, these same people suddenly fall silent and have nothing to say. imagine if every time someone told me they use they, he, or she pronouns, my immediate response was "i would be so uncomfortable being called they/he/she, i don't like that."

this reaction is one sided and is only used to target it/its users. no one else. when someone tells you their pronouns are it/its, keep your discomfort to yourself. that is your burden to bear. we have to accept that all pronoun sets, no matter how "normalized" they are, are going to make certain people feel like shit.

when a trans man asks you to use he/him pronouns because she/her pronouns makes him uncomfortable, your gut response isn't to say "he/him pronouns make me uncomfortable, i won't refer to you that way." when a trans woman asks you to use she/her pronouns because he/him pronouns makes her uncomfortable, your first reaction isn't to say "she/her pronouns make me uncomfortable, i'm not going to use them for you."

people can have bad experiences and even trauma with any set of pronouns, this is not exclusive to it/its. there are trans men across the world who feel like absolute shit when people use she/her pronouns for them, there are trans women across the globe who feel like absolute shit when people use he/him pronouns for them. nobody seems to consider this. any pronouns can cause discomfort.

don't single in on it/its users. don't make the first comment out of your mouth be about yourself. don't make someone else's pronouns about you. keep your personal discomfort with those pronouns to yourself. that is not the it/its cross to bear: that is yours. you don't get to decide what pronouns a stranger can and can't use, that's not your choice, you don't get to make it for them.

important addition from the tags:

[youryanderedaddy]

Summary: You run into your snobby ex boyfriend after a drunken party. Things go south from there. tw: female reader, hinted murder, possessive behavior, condescension, financial(?) abuse, classism

You know this is a stupid, stupid idea. Going home at God knows what time in the pitch black is never a good idea, you think drowsily, head still spinning from the last beer, but even more so when you're tired, pissed off and tipsy. You're freezing, naked shoulders wet from the chilly midnight rain - but instead of soft damp linden, you smell molden concrete and metal. You fucking hate this city. You hate the stupid, flashy, obnoxious parties for rich people, and this shitty university in the middle of nowhere, and even the scholarship that forced you into close proximity with the freakish upper class of east New Hemptison.

"Baby!" A familiar voice sinks into the muddy darkness and you have to physically restrain yourself from emptying your stomach right there on the street - and knowing your neighbours, you'd have to clean it after too. His steps fasten and soon you feel his hand gripping your shoulder to turn you around. Standing before you, glistening just like some prince from a fairy tale, is everything you despise about this town. The fact that he's perfectly prim and proper despite the pounding rain, that his teeth seem almost pearly white in the dark, that his hair is crisp and slicked away tastefully, that even now he's wearing a fucking Armani shirt with the cheesiest pair of jeans (ones you could never afford) - it makes you want to crawl back to the cave you came from, two continents away, and never look back.

"Baby, where have you been?" He sounds terribly concerned as he pulls your shivering body in for a tight bear hug, running his hands through your absolutely soaked hair - murmuring something incomprehensible to your drunken mind. "I was worried sick, missy." His voice drops slightly, but it's all for show. He's playing the part of the good boyfriend, like always - and you fell for it once, you did, but you know better now. "I called you, like, sixty eight times. And nothing." He swallows, big hands trembling around you. "Just radio silence. I thought something bad happened to y-"

"Oh, f-uucking beat it." Your patience finally snaps and you push him off swiftly, barely contained anger starting to resurface again. Today was supposed to be about you, about healing, about feeling better, but just your luck - the very problem had found you, just like always. No matter where you go, your troubles follow. "You know what you did, asshole. Don't you d-aare play innocent with m-me." You hiss drunkenly, stumbling all over your words before hitting the wall all on your own. Mathew, of course, doesn't waste the oppurtunity to get closer to you - just so he can help you regain your balance, of course. The golden boy of Saint Hemptison would never take advantage of an intoxicated girl - much less his ex girlfriend who he's still hopelessly in love with, supposedly. Right.

"Baby, please, you're drunk - you're not making any sense." The man whispers softly, placing his hand at your hip. "Let's go to the penthouse. We can talk about this in the morning when you are more aware of your thoughts."

When you're more aware of your thoughts? You almost laugh. It's quite bittersweet when it hits you that he doesn't respect you even now - maybe he never has in the duration of your miserable relationshop, that in his eyes you'll always be the poor girl in need of a white knight. Just a little trophy to show off, if a bit broken in certain spots.

"I am not going anywhere with you." You mumble, trying to calm down - to appear cold and collected, the complete opposite of what he wants you to be. "Look, I know that you're mad at me, babygirl, but I'm sure your little temper tantrum can wait until tomorrow. You know I don't like this neighbourhood. Let me take you to a safe place for the night, okay?" He reaches for your hand again, but this time you swat it away in fury.

"Who are you to act so worried about me, huh?" You can hear your voice breaking as the tears prick at your eyes - hot and shameful. Crying in front of him is the last thing you want to do, but god, it's so hard not to when this whole night has been a disaster after a disaster. You're truly at your wits' end. "After what you did? You are truly shameless." You squeal, and admittedly, it feels fucking great to finally say it.

Your former lover's face twists into an unrecognizable grimace as he watches you tear into his heart with ease - and as you turn to leave, he grabs your wrist painfully. This time something is different about his eyes - they're not longer smiling. Now they're two bottomless gray pits devoid of kindness, the same eyes you saw the night of the accident as he caressed your cold cheek with bloody knuckles.

"And what did I do, love? Hm?" He tilts your chin up by squeezing your throat, forcing you to meet his eerie gaze. Suddenly all your tipsy bravado evaporates into thin air. "Please, refresh my memory. I really can't recall the events of the past two weeks - since you've been avoiding me and all..." His fingers dig into your skin and you wince just like a kicked puppy - but he doesn't bulge an inch. Suddenly everything comes flooding back - the touches you convinced yourself were sensual, not possesive, the glances you once thought of as romantic, the constant interrogations, the strange emails, the cryptic calls, the dead roses at your door. "I couldn't sleep - or eat for that matter. I am half a man without you. I lose myself completely."

It all makes sense now. You feel like crying, because it's so crystal clear... and you've been a willing fool. You had closed your eyes, because it was easier to lie than to accept the truth bubbling just under his surface - under the dimples and the smiles, and the hundred jewelry boxes still lying unopened under your bed.

"You - you killed him! You monster!" You gasp, unable to stop your lips from uttering the lethal. You thrash around to no avail, you're stuck. "How could you? Jack was your friend!" You hide your face in the crook of his neck to stop the sobs, too scared to look at the crazed man holding you. He simply rolls his eyes, letting you soak his shirt with your pretty tears. "Don't be so dramatic - it's just some broken bones. He'll be fine... as long as he stays away from my things."

You raise your head shakily - you're drowning between hatred, fear and misery. The adrenaline is making you even more disoriented than the liquor percentage in your bloodstream.

"I am not a fucking thing for you to-" You hiccup, growing woozy as you hit weakly against his chest. The corners of his lips curl up slightly as he chuckles at the pitiful display. "For you to just own!" You keep going, cheeks purple from pent up fury - there's something tearing at your insides like you want to scream, you need it to come out, but you find yourself unable to push it off your flesh like it's been ingrained with glue and a shovel.

"You're wrong, baby. I do own you." Mathew says with the sweetest, softest voice you've heard in your life, sugary and bitter like poisonous honey. "Let's say you want to break up-"

"We already broke u-"

His eyes pierce you mid-sentence. You quickly close your mouth.

"Let's say," He repeats through gritted teeth, holding you so tightly you might just merge into one being. "That you want to break up with me." He inhales deeply, nostrils flaring. "Hypothetically. Then what? You have no place to live. I know you're staying at that shithole of a hotel down the street right now - it's filthier than a brothel, no?"

You want to say something - to argue, to scream. To tell him that he's being a rich, condescending asshole again, that you like the hotel - despite the mold and the cockroaches and the way there never seems to be hot water. Despite having to lock your door four times so you don't get assaulted in your sleep.

You say nothing.

"You don't have to confirm it. My agent tracked you down a week ago. Whatever - you'll run out of money in, approximately, 9 days." He smirks maliciously, with unhidden spite - just like a little devil. "Then what? You don't even have an address. And you know the city hall will take their sweet fucking time to help you register - if they don't make you pay a fine first." He strokes your chin cruelly. "We both know just how much they care about clueless little foreigners with less than a penny to their name." He whispers, twisting the dagger in. "Hell, they may even cut your scholarship. And. then. what." Your ex pronounces each word slowly - making sure you can understand it, feel it - fear it.

You imagine your family back at home. You can hear their voices over the phone, your mom smiling as you tell her about your day, your father asking you what you plan to do after college - whether you will still remember them, whether you'd take care of them once they have nothing left, since you took everything with you. The money, the hopes, the happiness...

"F-fuck you..." You whimper faintly, falling against him. You feel defeated, and the sharp words are all you have left. "Why are you doing this to me?" You mumble to yourself, suddenly feeling drained to the very bone. The man begins stroking your hair as he rocks you gently to the side. "Because I love you." He slowly kisses down your neck. "Because I'm the only one in this city who gives a fuck about you, and-" You can feel his smile against your burning cheek. "Because you're mine."

[dropsnectar]

Courting a Queen: Bee Hybrid × Reader Part Two

Hey! So a lot of you wanted the Bee smut, so, here it is! I'm still new to writing smut so please be kind. Also, in @bunnis-monsters universe of Bee Hybrids, its mentioned that they have different types of Honey that have different properties and effects, so I wanted to play with that a little. Also just a reminder that I headcannon that the queen scouting drones are a bit more intelligent than other bee hybrids,, as this works better to lure in a queen! Hope you enjoy!

Everything had happened so quickly, you didn't know quite what to do or think. 

You'd just been talking and having fun with a few Bee Hybrids, now suddenly suddenly you were in their hive, they were calling you Queen, and it was getting really hard to talk your way out of this when you had so many tongues on your skin--

“Y-You guys I can't become your… oh God um… there's no way I can become a queen!” You tried your best to gently pull yourself out of their grasp, but the little nibbles Haven was doing on your ear were way too distracting. Elias answered you.

“We know you'd be great. Please dont be mean to yourself.” He pouted at you with big eyes as he worked on pulling down your black leggings. He carefully lifted your thighs as he did so and you noticed that his skin, while smooth and soft, also had a sort of firmness to it that human skin didn't. It made your core burn. 

“Are we doing something wrong? Please tell us my Queen, we only want to make you feel good.” Another hand was slowly exploring up your shirt. You looked over at Ray, the black haired hybrid who was staring at you with the biggest, mooniest eyes, like he was a dog begging for a treat. He trailed his hands up and down your belly, his hands were more beelike than the others, and the foreigners of it gave you goosebumps. 

Stop it! You can't become Queen! You'd never leave this place!

“I can't do this.” You finally managed, pulling away from Haven and Ray's grasp.

“I have a home. And a job and…”

And not much else. Your parents weren't the kindest, and you only ever saw your friends once every two months. If they remembered you that was.

Elias gently took one of your hands in his. “This can be your home! We would feed you and do whatever you want! You'll never be lonely again. Please. We've been so long without a Queen and…” His antennas drooped. So Did Haven and Rays, their exuberant wings going quiet.

“ We will die soon. Without a Queen our hive will grow weak, and other hives will fight us for our home territory.” Ray leaned his head gently on my shoulder, a whine escaping his chest.

Haven started to tear up. At least, he seemed to cry. “ We need you. We will never stop loving you, and you would never want for anything, please let us keep you.”

Your heart grew heavy. You didn't know much about bees, but you were aware that Queens were super important for the health of the hive. You had only known them for a day, but you couldn't bear the thought of them dying. They were so incredibly sweet after all.

Maybe I could try it for a little bit. I mean, being a Queen couldn't be so bad. You reasoned. And if it becomes too much, I could maybe help them find a new one. Or run away in the night, maybe.

“I'll… give it a try.” 

The three of them were in the air at once, pulling on your limbs and jumping up and down. Haven got up and did what seemed like a little happy dance, Elias joining in. While Ray continues to hold onto you and nuzzle you in large excited motions. You watched the two dancing and clapped happily. They buzzed loudly, seeming pleased with your smile and sudden lifted mood. They could feel your affection for them in the air and it bode well.

At that time, the bee-man that Elias had pulled aside earlier knocked on the door, before buzzing in with a cup of something sweet. Well, the whole place smelled sweet, but you noticed steam coming up from the cup. You tilted your head in confusion.

“He added some warm water to help you get it down easier! Your human after all, so thick things may be hard to drink, right?” Elias smiled and handed you the warm little cup. It smelled… well. Like honey. But their was a little heat to it. Maybe cinnamon? Nutmeg?

“Its super special, just for you!” Haven volunteered, as he settled back down to his place on your back left. He busied himself with rubbing your shoulder, then kissing the back of your head sweetly. 

All of this attention was making your cheeks rosy. To busy yourself you took an experimental sip of the warm honey. It went easily from your tongue down your throat. Expecting the taste of normal honey, you were surprised by the variety of notes. Still sweet, it indeed had a hefty… spice to it? Like it had been salted and mixed with a little chilli pepper. The heat of it spread from your throat, through your head and your body, making you shiver.

It was a feeling similar to hot chocolate on a long day out in the snow. Delighted, you slurped it down greedily. Ray laughed and the other two hybrids seemed very pleased. They watched you drink the whole cup, pride and their ever present excitement alight on every feature. 

You gave the cup back to Elias and smiled dreamily. You finally felt relaxed enough and tried to lie back on the couch, instead ending up in Ray and Havens arms. 

“That was really good.” You almost whispered. You were still warm from drink, and a haziness had softly draped itself over your brain. Soft. Warm. 

 Probably tired from a long day, you thought with a giggle. What a silly day it had been. What a silly situation.

Elias set the cup down on a table towards the door and floated toward you, a hungry look in his eye. Ray had decided to lap at your jaw now, making you shiver, again marveling at the strange texture his tongue had. Almost like a cat but smoother? Somehow? It felt good. 

The room was filled with pleasant buzzing and purring, as several pairs of hands started working your skin. Haven was now exploring the inside of your shirt, pulling excitedly at your bra. He felt around for a little bit, trying to find the latch. You noticed, through a big mirror by the door that his tongue was sticking out the whole time. You giggled. So cute.

A sudden nip to your inner thigh made you jolt. Elias had made his place between your thighs again and had started licking and nipping to getting your attention. He pouted at you until you gave him full eye contact.

“I'll get to breed you first, since I found you.” Elias said in the most innocent tone you almost didn't comprehend it. Until he was licking at your clothed cunt with his long black tongue. You whined a bit, in surprise and pleasure. It felt good. 

Haven must have figured out your bra because suddenly you felt fingers on your chest now. They moved around haphazardly, watching your face for a reaction. When one found your nipple you bit your lip and pried your gaze away from Elias for an instant. Havens face lit up in a smile.

“ Can I take this off, my Queen?” He asked in his delicate textured voice. You nodded and lifted your arms for them. A sudden jolt pulled your gaze back down to Elias, who was pouting at you. He had pulled your underwear aside and had started licking fervently between your lips. Those big, adoring eyes did as much to you as his tongue and you moaned out.

You were suddenly ablaze now, your core dripping and needy. It was sudden, and your hazy mind tried to work out how they'd got you gushing so fast. They were obviously new at this, reaching around trying to find your best spots, but you needed more. 

“T-take them off, please.” You begged Elias quietly, as your breath was quite ragged. Elias complied happily. You opened your legs wider for him, and he was able to push your lips apart farther so he could get a look at you. Enchanted, he took a finger and drew circles around you, noting when and where you would flinch, and jerk your hips. After experimenting a bit more he decided to suck on your most sensitive place: Your clit.

You howled out as he sucked and licked you, the texture of his tongue so different from anything you'd felt before. 

Haven and Ray were buzzing so loudly as the licked you, groping your sweet tummy, and sucking where they could. Ray had decided on sucking and when you sang for him, he started trilling with glee. Seeing this, Haven did the same. Their hands continued to roam.

The sucking of your tits and the attention on your clit were getting you close. The pressure in your stomach was mounting, and when Elias had decided to move two of his delicate fingers into your entrance you came hard around him, full body quaking. Drool pooled down your face as you gasped, stars filling your vision. 

“ Such a good Queen, coming for us so well.” Praised Ray, before he went back to assaulting your nipple with his tongue. Haven giggled and buzzed in agreement.

When you came down from your high, you were surprised to find yourself still wanting, wriggling, your skin so sensitive and desperate for more touch that you bucked yourself back into Elias’ face. The confusion persisted and you were about to ask a question when Elias answered.

“Don't worry, Our Love, we made sure you'd feel good enough to take all of us. Our honey truly is special. You won't feel any pain, we promise!”

The honey'd been�� an aphrodisiac?

Something about that should have bothered you but all you could think about was having something inside you. Of wanting more of their touch, more more more-

You chocked as Haven started rubbing your clit, the sweet pressure bringing you some relief. Elias was taking his human clothing off now, revealing his lower half. His cock was long. Long, but super pretty and pink. You licked your lips as he lined it up with your wet entrance. His big, clear eyes stared at you with such devotion it bordered on worship, before he plunged himself within your needy walls.

You cried out, and it was like a wave of pleasure crashed through the room, as everyone sighed. He started slow, working himself further and further inside you as he went. The stretch and rhythm felt so good, you tried to work in time with him. His length was slick and warm and being so close to him only made your affection grow. You couldn't help it.

Ray and Haven were moaning in your ear. They were still sucking your tits, but were humping whatever bit of you they could, desperate and needy.

You wanted to help them but each stroke Elias was working in you felt so good your mind couldn't think properly. You stayed like that for a while, Elias hitting your best spots, sending you closer and closer to your limit, before he seemed to come, hard, a guttural sound leaving his throat. 

But instead of feeling hot, wet cum, you felt something push against your walls. A ridge was forming inside of you, pushing up through his member. The stretch was delicious and you keened as another traced its way up your walls. A sudden soft wetness, and a heaviness was felt at the innermost part of you. You'd never felt anything like it before and your walls twitched around it. An egg.

Your mind raced back to an earlier comment. You'd completely forgotten about the eggs. But your mind was so gone all you could do was whine at the tightness, as another was laid in you, and you came again, another wave of pleasure racking your mind and body. 

It went on like this, him laying one after the other, bringing you closer and closer to the edge again. You could tell Elias was getting utterly spent, his rocking movements slowing, the erratic flaps of his wings getting more labored. Drool continued to pool out of his mouth. His heavy meaningful gaze was now glassy and tired. You wanted to hold him. 

When the last egg was laid within you, Ray took his place in a flash. As Elias took his spot on your right, lazily sucking on your collarbone, Ray pushed himself in fully in one go. His dick was thicker, and not as long as Elias’, but it felt amazing around the eggs. 

“My turn. You'll take my clutch so well, I know it.” He reassured, rubbing his thumb like limbs on your hips as he slowly rutted into you. He was whispering praises about your beauty and how well you were doing the whole time. The stretch of his dick felt so good as he fucked the eggs further into you, adding his own. He was quicker than Elias to lay though. His eggs were much bigger, making you sputter a bit as you took them. It seemed that Bee-men came continuously as they laid their spawn, because he was a glassy eyed, babbling mess the whole time he pushed more into you. 

Haven took the longest time to lay, despite fucking you the fastest and hardest of the three. He giggled, so happy and pussydrunk the whole time. 

“My Queen, it feels so good. Am I making you feel good?”

“So good,” you confirmed through shaggy breaths.  “So good. My good boy.” You could feel a shock throughout the room and Haven smiled so big through his sweaty curls, that you couldn't help but return it. His hips rocked into you faster now, though he was still careful of your eggs.

The other two pouted, making crying vibrating sounds. “My good boys.” You corrected. “Doing so well.” you were so close to cumming again it was hard to think, but you reached both hands up to caress them both. Consoled, they clung to you even tighter, as if that was possible, whispering praises back. You were such a good queen, taking so many eggs. So good and sweet. 

Their words brought you over the edge at the same time Haven let out a loud trilling sound. He collapsed forward onto your lap, licking at your now extended belly. You both shook, riding out your high.

The room smelled of sweat, and their saccharine aroma. You realized you'd become a bit addicted to the scent, nuzzling closer into the soft fur of your new family. 

You lay there for a time, letting your bee-men fuss over you. They wiped the sweat from your body and cooed at your stomach, at how adorable you were being so full, and taking so many eggs. 

“Our lovely Queen. Did so well for you first mating.” Elias had glowed with pride for you, then  nuzzled into your neck in that way of his. “The rest of the hive is just going to love you. But for now, rest.” He petted soft loving strokes down your forehead. The motion was soothing, and you closed your eyes, letting sleep consume you.

Before you completely lost consciousness, you heard a worried Haven whisper, “I hope she makes us her attendants. It'd be such a shame to only see her when its our turn to mate.” You felt some nodding onto your shoulder and buzzing of agreement. You'd have to remember to ask them about it when you awoke.

Hey guys! Was this too long? Would love some constructive feedback about what you'd like to see more of! Thank you for reading!

Masterlist

[reidrum]

you say ‘what a mind’ | s.r.

A/N: she’s back and with fluff! (?) exams were really putting me through the ringer but i missed posting so i fixed up this draft i had, i hope you enjoy :D ive been listening to sabrina 25/8 since she dropped so hopefully song inspired fics coming soon 🤞🏽

summary: you get really excited about something new you learned and spencer gets really excited about you

wc: a short n sweet 1k

cw: none, tooth rotting fluff

_______________________________________________

With Spencer's extensive knowledge of just about everything, you had assumed that there wasn’t much you contribute to his abundant learning.

You maybe weren’t three-PhD’s smart, but you were smart, averagely speaking. But you knew Spencer was smart, and truth be told it intimidated you. He never made you feel bad about not knowing something, ever. Anytime he gets to talk to you about anything his face lights up like the night sky.

There was, however, one time you had come home all excited to explain a concept from class that finally clicked for you. And the first person you wanted to tell was Spencer.

He watched you bound up to him with a spring in your step, bright eyed and wide cheeks as you told him, “I have to tell you about what I learned about today, it finally made sense to me. Like it felt like a real life light bulb final puzzle piece fitting type moment!”

He smiled warmly down at your eager face, “Alright angel, lay it on me.”

“Okay, I know it’s a little stupid it’s taken me this long to get it, but it’s—“

The call of your name sternly yet fondly falling from Spencer’s lips interrupts your self deprecating preamble, “Hey, we don’t do that, remember? We talked about this.”

Your rants almost always started with some self deprecating remarks, and he would always frown and try to interject and shut them down, to which you’d wave him off under the guise of, “If I stop, I’ll forget!” You were smart, but stubborn to a fault. He loved you for it, but it was hard for him to see you not understand the value you held, the value that your voice and your words and your opinions held. The value that he knew with all certainty you possessed.

A sheepish blush rises on your cheeks as you mumble, “Sorry.”

His fingers trickle closer to yours and wrap around them firmly, bringing you to sit on the couch next to him as he pulls your legs over to rest on his.

“Don’t be sorry, baby,” he says saccharinely, “We’re working on being nicer to ourselves right?”

You nod, he smiles softly back at you and continues, “Okay, tell me what you learned today.”

You start on your long explanation of the inner workings of the nervous system and its intricacies, explaining details and anecdotes that really showcase the inner workings of how your mind processes information.

Spencer can’t help but stare at you in deep fascination, complete with an awestruck smile and glimmering eyes.

He’s met hundreds of scientists, specialists, celebrities even, and listen to them talk about their research in extensive detail and with expansive knowledge. Hell, he’s had to do it himself with his three doctorates.

But as he sits in front of you, watching the person he’s most fond of on this planet watch you talk with so much speed, conviction, passion, with your hands move with purpose and excitement, he truly swears he has never been more in love with you than that moment.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you ask cautiously.

“You,” he moves closer, “Are so intelligent, did you know that?”

“Spencer, I’m not in the mood for jokes plea—“

“No, my love. You are brilliant,” he moves closer to be an inch away from you, placing his hands on your cheeks, “The way you process information is fascinating. When I watch you explain things to me I can see you organize it in your pretty head. It is actually mesmerizing watching you absorb knowledge the way you do. You’re like, a beautiful puzzle all undone, but by the forces of nature you’re able to put yourself together and bear the finished product to me, to anyone.”

Your eyes tear up, “Spence…what the fuck.”

He chuckles softly, “I mean it,” he holds you firmly, planting you in the roots of his belief, “What a mind you have, darling.”

It’s enough to make you tuck your head into his chest, obstructing his view from your imminent tearfall.

“You can’t just say things like that.” you mumble against the soft fabric of his shirt.

Spencer instinctively wraps his arm around your torso, letting the other hand take purchase in your hair, gently stroking it down, “Why not?” He speaks softly.

“Because…I might think you're like, in love with me or something.” You joke.

His laugh rumbles through his chest and into your rested head, “Would that be so bad?”

“Yes.”

“And why is that?”

“It’s going to be another whole moon cycle before I have another a-ha moment like this again. I’ll have nothing to impress you with.”

Spencer smiles and sighs, squeezing you tighter against him, “You always impress me.”

You groan, “Ugh, you don’t have to say that to make me feel better.”

“You do know that you’re really smart, right?” you open your mouth to argue but he cuts you off, “You always underestimate yourself, but you’re really one of the smartest people I know. And I know a lot of smart people.”

A deep sigh leaves you, but he continues, “And you don’t have to believe me. I’ll believe it enough for the both of us. You and your brain are remarkable, so when you come to me with your a-ha moments thinking I’ll be impressed with your spark of knowledge, just know that I am impressed with you, but it’s more because I get to see you realize just how capable you are yourself.”

The calming motion of his fingers through your hair tether you back to this world, your insides fluttering about like butterflies in an open field. It was hard not to believe his words when Spencer was always so kind to you. It was always so easy for you to play it off like you didn’t deserve it.

But Spencer knew wholeheartedly that you did deserve it, that you were even entitled to it. And he’d spend the rest of his life reminding you. That, you knew for a fact.

“I love you,” you say softly, “Thank you.”

“No need to thank me angel, I love you too.” He mumbles in your head, his hand trailing down your sides in comfort.

[gloomwitchwrites]

His teammates call you because he isn't handling the break up well.

I'm gonna be honest, Anon. I went a more humorous route with this (but some angst in there too because why not!) I'm just imagining all of them being completely pathetic and the one calling is on the phone like "come get your man please." So, with that being said, I hope you enjoy this!

Presented in four double drabbles.

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Task Force 141 x Reader

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): swearing, some angst, established relationship, breakups. brief humor

Word Count: 800

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price

“You have two minutes,” you say immediately after answering your phone.

“You need to call him,” comes Simon’s gruff voice on the other end.

You’ve only met Simon a handful of times, but he’s always been your favorite of John’s team. He has consistently treated you with kindness and respect, and he never oversteps boundaries.

“Why?” you ask, glancing at your nails, pretending you don’t care.

“He fucking misses you.”

“That’s not enough of a reason,” you reply.

It isn’t. Not really. Even if your heart aches and your stomach flips from hearing it.

“Captain isn’t taking the breakup well.”

You want to say that you aren’t either, even though you’re the one who ended things. In reality, you miss John. It’s agonizing.

“And?” you ask, trying to hide the slight crack in your voice.

“He has us running laps around the fucking track, love. Haven’t done that since I was a grunt who couldn’t properly tie his boot laces.”

You sigh. “Am I supposed to feel sorry for you?”

“Yes.” Simon’s response is immediate.

Rubbing your temple, you decide to take a leap. It wouldn’t hurt to talk. Not really. “Fine. I’ll talk to him.”

“Thank fuck,” he breathes.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

“This is absurd,” you mutter, rubbing the middle of your brow, irritation building in the back of your head.

“Just give us a few minutes,” comes Captain Price’s voice. It’s Kyle’s boss, but he’s not the only one on the phone.

“Oh, aye. Hear us out.” Soap is there, too.

For all you know, Ghost is lingering on the call, a silent entity listening in but not saying anything.

“Why? Give me a reason?”

“Kyle misses you,” says Price.

“He loves you, lass.”

This isn’t new information. You’re aware of how Kyle feels but that doesn’t change things. The two of you are not together anymore. He needs to move on.

“He’s not handling the breakup well.” This time it’s Ghost. The silent man speaks.

“What do you want me to do,” you sigh.

“Talk to him,” says Price.

“No.”

Your phone buzzes and you hold it away from your ear. It’s a text from Price. You click on it, revealing a photo.

It’s Kyle. He’s curled up in his bed in the barracks, clutching a teddy bear he won you at a carnival on your first date.

“We can come get you,” says Price.

“Fine. I’ll talk to him.”

John "Soap" MacTavish

“I’m sorry, John. But you shouldn’t have called. I don’t want to hear it.”

There is a deep sigh on the other end of the phone. You respect Captain John Price. The few times you’ve met him, he’d been pleasant, and he was always the first one to greet you whenever you visited Johnny on base.

“I understand that you broke it off with him.”

“John—”

“Listen. Please.”

He genuinely sounds concerned, and that gives you pause.

It’s not like you and Johnny ended things on bad terms. His life is busy. It’s dangerous. You just don’t fit in it, and the stress of never knowing when or if he’s going to come home is something far to difficult a thing to carry with you.

“He’s been struggling. Had to corner him in my office to get him to talk. He’s really hurting.”

You swallow. Lick your lips. “Why are you calling me, John?”

“I want you to talk to him.”

“John—”

“Soap is currently facedown in his bed in the barracks. Sulking.”

“Okay. I’ll talk to him.”

“In person,” says John. It sounds like a command. Not an ask.

“Fine, John,” you reply, grabbing your car keys.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

“You need to talk to him. Simon is a bloody mess.”

“He’s fine, Johnny. He’ll get over. There was no reason for you to call me.”

Johnny snorts on the other end. “You don’t think so? I thought he was going to crush a new recruit’s skull in this morning.”

You roll your eyes. “I’m not interested in talking with Simon right now.”

Is it really a breakup? No. Not really. More like a separation. Simon has your whole heart, but he’s stubborn and cold. His shell is difficult to crack.

“That’s too bad. Because I’m here.”

“You’re—what?”

“Aye. Walking up to your front door right now.”

You blink. Aghast. “John MacTavish you better not—”

There is a sharp series of knocks at your front door. “You gotta be fucking kidding me,” you mutter.

Growling, you storm to the front door, phone still pressed to your ear. You unlatch the deadbolt and yank the door open. Johnny is standing on the other side, his phone also held to his ear. He gives you his biggest grin.

You want to smack it right off his face.

“What are you doing?”

Johnny ends the call. “I’m taking you to Simon.”

taglist:

@km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @miaraei @cherryofdeath

@enarien @saoirse06 @ferns-fics @unhinged-reader-36 @miss-mistinguett

@ravenpoe67 @tulipsun-flower @sageyxbabey @mudisgranapat @ninman82

@lulurubberduckie @leed-bbg @yawning-grave81 @azkza @nishim

@haven-1307 @voids-universe @itsberrydreemurstuff @spicyspicyliving @keiva1000

@littlemisscriesherselftosleep @greeniegreengreen @umno-yeah @blackhawkfanatic @talooolaaloolla

@sadlonelybagel @kadeeesworld @iloveslasher @sammysinger04 @dakotakazansky

@suhmie @jaggersinclair @jackrabbitem @lxblm @beebeechaos

@no-oneelsebutnsu @kidd3ath @certainlygay @thewulf @lovely-ateez

@whisperwispxx @gingergirl06 @eternallyvenus @smileykiddie08 @arrozyfrijoles23

[spectral-phases]

I need people to stop getting so precious about Clark "not letting" Bruce kill the Joker after Jason’s death post-Crisis. Everyone acts like it was like this:

But it was more:

So, we all know the story. Actually. Wait. Maybe we don't. So. The story beneath the cut.

Jason got benched as being Robin because he was not dealing well with his parents' deaths, felt like he was no longer wanted because he was adopted specifically to be Robin (and Bruce is shit at making his kids feel loved a lot of times). Jason discovered the woman who raised him was his step mother, not his bio mother. He goes looking for bio mom. Finds bio mom, she hugs him and tells him she's missed him so much, Bruce contemplates letting Jason live with his family if that would make him happier despite being obviously cut up about the idea of losing Jason. Bio mom is being extorted by the Joker to let him ship out Joker Venom disguised as medical supplies because he can't just steal the supplies and sell them. Bruce has to go stop the shipment of Joker Venom, his portable chopper is too small for two, so Jason is left behind. Jason is told to wait, but The Killing Joke just happened and his bio mom is alone with the Joker (who is insane, capricious and evil), so, obviously he has to save his mother and could not wait. Bio Mom is outside, no guards, Jason says, "Hey, I'm actually Robin, I'm here to save you from the Joker" and she says "Nah, he's actually gone, so I'm fine. But let's go inside so I can grab my things and we can leave." Her things turn out to be a gun to point at Jason after leading him to the Joker. Jason is too stunned to move. The Joker and his goons beat Jason up and then the Joker uses the crowbar to finish beating him to a presumed death. His bio mom at some point couldn't bear to watch it anymore and turns around to smoke a cigarette. Once Joker’s done, bio mom asks what they're going to do about Batman, and the Joker is all "oh. Yeah, lol. Probably was a bad idea to kill his kid. Whoops. My bad." And then ties up the bio mom to kill her and erase any evidence he brutally attacked/killed Jason. The Joker sets a bomb on a timer and leaves. Jason uses the last of his strength to untie his bio mom so she can escape. He can't see well enough to try and disarm the bomb. She tries to get them both out. The door is locked. Jason shields her as the bomb goes off, but she dies just as Batman comes up and tells him the Joker did it, calls Jason a hero, says he deserved a better mother (he did) but does not/is unable to own up to her part in Jason’s death before dying herself. Bruce finds Jason’s body and is fucking devastated.

So after that, Bruce chases the Joker down to the UN because the Joker lucked into being a diplomat for Iran and is now meeting at the UN assembly in New York. Bruce is 100% set on doing a premeditated murder of the Joker for Jason. The US government is aware of this. They hire Superman to grab Batman to try and talk him down because the Joker has diplomatic immunity for past crimes. It does not go well.

"That’s the law, not Justice." Batman is 100% still going to kill the Joker. Everyone knows. Superman knows. Superman says the stupid thing is putting vengeance above the interests of the country, not killing Joker.

Batman sneaks into the Joker’s room, and the Joker (forgetting his earlier desire to not get fucking killed by Batman) is like "oh man, I wish I could have seen your face when you found his body" and further needles Bruce with a "Or are you here to thank me for getting rid of him for you?" Making Bruce triple down on killing the Joker.

"Your confirming it makes what I have to do a lot easier."

Bruce manages to get in to observe the UN meeting as Bruce Wayne. Superman is disguised as a guard. Bruce is seething, watching the Joker, knowing that is the guy who killed Jason.

"I should have terminated his vile existence years ago. But I didn't. I couldn't. His insanity gained him a stay of execution. But no longer. ... Jason’s dead."

They both know the Joker is too stupid and lacks the impulse control needed to not attack the UN and immediately lose his immunity, which is the only thing keeping him alive. Joker releases Joker Venom to kill the delegates. Superman super breathes to inhale all the gas, which he's immune to because he's Superman and then says this as he leaves to go find a place to release the poison gas safely.

"Batman, he's all yours."

Superman basically says "You can kill him now" because he knows Batman’s mind has not changed, and Superman had not once tried to say "killing Joker would be wrong" just that it couldn't happen before the Joker acted in a way that lost him his immunity.

And Bruce does go to do just that. He chases the Joker down, intent to kill, and jumps onto the helicopter the Joker is using to escape. One of the guys fires at Batman. It shoots the pilot, hits the Joker in damn near his heart, if not his heart, and Batman realizes the helicopter is going down and decides to jump and leave the Joker behind. He intends for the Joker to die in the crash.

Okay? Bruce was 100% going to kill the Joker for killing Jason. Superman said "hang on. Let him get enough rope to hang himself first and then you can do it." And then Joker only survived because comic books. And Bruce is unhappy about having to wait. Superman did not try to talk Bruce out of killing the Joker at all ever, or scold him for wanting to kill the Joker. (Don't say he was rescuing the Joker in that last panel. The next panel is Superman fishing Batman, who is shot in the arm, from the harbor, and Batman telling Superman to go find the body. Find the body! And Superman does go to do just that, but is unable to).

Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk.

[prentisssbxtch]

An experience.

summary: the woman you slept with the night before, ends up being your boss.

relationship: wanda x fem!reader

warnings: swearing, hits to smut, lil make out, uhh i think that’s it? bad writing <3

this is my first time writing a fanfic so… bear with me

also not proofread !!

part 2?

─── ⊱ ─── ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ ─── ⊰ ───

waking up confused and disoriented, i looked around my surroundings to see i was in my living room… naked.

i turned to see a naked woman’s back facing me as she lied passed out. i could see she had gorgeous red hair; which was going in every direction possible.

the color of her hair suddenly brought back memories or the night before:

the two of us stumbled through my apartment door before my back was pressed up against it. wanda’s lips never left mine as she gripped my waist, which definitely left bruises.

as her lips moved down towards my neck, i let out a soft moan, gripping her hair tightly between my fingers.

i let out a soft whimper as she nipped my neck. i could feel her lips turn up into a grin before i pulled her head back up to kiss me.

i suddenly snapped back to the present when i noticed the woman on my floor moving. wanda is her name, if i remember correctly.

i quickly pulled the blanket off her body to cover my own. i threw a pillow down to cover her ass, giving her at least some decency.

i wrapped the blanket around my body before standing as wanda began to full awaken.

i moved to stand behind my couch as i watch wanda wake up. she turned her head towards me after a moment of silence.

she has gorgeous eyes

“hey, um i have to be somewhere really soon, so if you wouldn’t mind, uh, leaving… that’d be great,” i said awkwardly, trying to avoid small talk.

“what don’t wanna go for round two?” was her only response, with the most cockiest smirk i’d ever seen.

i felt my eyes widen before quickly recovering, “as great as that sounds, i have somewhere to be. so i’m gonna go to my bathroom and take a shower, and when i come back, you’re going to be gone. okay?” i said as i slowly started backing away towards the bathroom.

she gave a small sigh before standing, completely nude. i quickly turned to give her privacy after being caught off guard.

“uh it was great meeting you…” i paused not wanting to get her name wrong.

“wanda” she said, filling in the blank, while she picked up her belongings.

“wanda,” i said repeating after her as i slowly turned to look back at her. “well, bye.”

was my final response as i turned to leave to the bathroom, again.

——

after my… eventful morning, i quickly rushed through my shower before putting on work appropriate clothes.

i was starting an internship at a law firm here in new york. it was one of the biggest companies in the city, Maximoff Industries.

the fancy name already had my scared, but the fact of a whole new building, which could make or break my career… i felt as if i could throw up at any moment.

i was luckily able to grab a taxi, before having a small panic attack in the car. i put my headphones in, turning on music to hopefully calm my nerves.

it didn’t.

as the taxi pulled up outside the building, i felt as if i was shitting bricks.

i turned to pay the driver before quickly exiting the car.

i slowly walked towards the building, trying to even my breathing as i neared the main entrance.

the second i walked through the door, i was greeted by marble floors with a gorgeous chandelier.

i walked to the front dest asking where to go. she told me all the interns were to go to the 5th floor, where we would meet Ms. Maximoff, the owner of the building.

i nodded my head before saying a quiet thank you. i moved towards the elevator, quickly pressing the button calling it to my floor.

once the doors opened i stepped in, pressing the button for the fifth floor before leaning against the back wall.

suddenly i began to realize i had no idea what any of the maximoffs looked like. they had a very house hold name, everyone knew of who they are. i thought of googling the name before realizing it was pretty pointless. i would be seeing her in person in just a few minutes.

as the elevator dinged, alerting me of my arrival to the fifth floor, i felt my anxiety suddenly jump even higher than before.

which i didn’t think was possible, but clearly it was.

i stepped out as i politely smiled at the people getting in. i saw another front desk for the floor, quickly making my way towards the woman sitting there. she quickly directed me towards a room off to the left, which already had several people sitting around it. i gave a small thank you before walking to the area.

i looked for an open seat before quickly sitting. as time passed more people began to walk into the room. once the clock on the wall turned to 2:30, two people walked into the room.

the first, a tall man with blond hair, slightly blocking the person behind them.

the person being him stepped to stand beside him, i cast a glance to the woman who stepped out. only for my jaw to drop once i realized who it was.

the woman from this morning. wanda.

the man cleared her throat, regaining my attention, “this will be the internship that could potentially make or break your future. you have all been picked on how well you did in school. do not think because you are here, you’re safe of future problems. we will not hesitate to let you go, if we see fit.”

i turned my attention back to the woman standing next to the man, seeing her already looking at me. i could tell from her expression, she too was surprised by my presence. within a blink, she looked completely neutral.

this was definitely going to be an experience.

─── ⊱ ─── ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ ─── ⊰ ───

thank you for reading🫶🏻

if you want a part two lemme know!!

[cacw]

Truly nothing has ever pissed me off so much as this animal. An abomination is what this is. And I'll never be free of it. He has haunted me for years. Remember back in 2021 when we all had some hope for arc 9? Maybe not much, but some. Flamepaw, they called him. And then it was 2022. The excerpt was released. And I knew it was over. Because they gave him mommy issues. But already he was garnering fans. Already, people were buying into his lies. And then the book came out. It was April 2022. The world would never be the same. The Big Sparkpelt Retcon. The name change. Stealing his new prefix from yet another woman continuously wronged by the narrative. He didn't even pick his own name but he pretends he did and thus the fanbase believes this to be true. Never in my life have I felt so hateful towards a creature such as this. I cannot stand him. I can hardly bear to look at his sprite. What a joke. His chapters were grueling and aggravated me to no end. I've never read from a POV this painful. Every word that leaves his mouth is worthless. What a joke. I hope he burns in the deepest and darkest pits of hell. I like to imagine this often, because I hate him terribly. His screams would be the greatest sounds to ever escape his throat, and the flames that lick his skin would be as bright as his horrible amber eyes. They're not even bright in this photo. I bet he changed them just to make me look bad. He's good at changing things when he so wishes it. I can't stand him and I can't take it. He is the worst character. His existence shouldn't matter, yet he is somehow the most important character in the series, and so I could never get myself to really believe they might kill him off. But I wanted it more than anything. Opening each new PDF on release day I would pray that he would be flayed alive. Just brutally eviscerated. This did not come to pass, because I never get anything I want. My heart is as black as his sleek, self-righteous coat. I am so angry.

[archangeldyke-all]

i had a crazy thought–imagine sevika's wife saying something that annoys/peeves her just a tiny bit and ceo!sevika doing the most over the top thing the next second.

imagine they live in a huge expensive modern penthouse and sevika's wife says "how come we live in the same house but we don't see each other?" and on the next day sevika is already taking her around to go see houses for sale 😭😭

or when her wife trips over the huge glass coffee table in the middle of the living room, and it's gone in the next hour and replaced by a smaller, cuter coffee table

i just wanna see sevika simping for her wife pls im begging i think she's so so cute 😭😭😭 like a grizzly bear 😭😭😭

this is like the epitome of ceo sevika i love her so fucking much

men and minors dni

you shouldn't be surprised.

this has been happening long before you and sevika were even dating, back when you were just assistant.

you can still remember the first time sevika did this to you. you ran into the office, discombobulated and late, worried that sevika would be upset.

she wasn't upset, though. it was the oppisite. she sighed in relief the moment you walked through the door wrapping you up in a hug. "fuck, i was worried you'd been carjacked on your way here! i can't lose you. not before the board meeting."

you laughed and relaxed in her arms, breathing in her expensive cologne. "sorry. my phone is fucking ancient and can't hold a charge anymore-- it died overnight and my alarm didn't go off."

"hmm." she'd said. at the time, you thought that was it.

then you got home that night, and found three brand new cell phones sitting on your doorstep.

you blinked down at the boxes, confused. a small envelope caught your eye, and you picked it up, flipping it open.

pick your favorite. -s.

the extravagance only grew once you got together.

"ugh, my back is killing me." you complained one morning.

"'s wrong?" sevika asked, a worried look in her eye. you shrug.

"think i pulled something yesterday while restocking the cabinets above the copier." you say.

that night, you pout in confusion as sevika takes the wrong exit off the highway. "where're we going?"

"you'll see."

"awe, sevika, i can't do a date night tonight baby, i feel like shit."

"it's not a date. well, it sorta is... just trust me, okay?" she'd asked. you nodded.

"of course."

sevika pulled the car into a spa parking lot. you frowned. "spatopia? aren't they closed this late?"

"i made a few calls for us." she said with a shrug, kissing you over the center console and then hopping out of the car. she ran around the car, pulling open your door and walking you to the store front.

two hours and two couples' deep tissue massages later; you were both too relaxed to drive home and you had to call an uber. it was one of the nicest gifts of your life.

now that you're married, it's only gotten worse.

you make a passing comment about your couch being stiff, and sevika's taking you furniture shopping that weekend.

you trip over a (incredibly expensive) persian rug in sevika's study more than once and she's rolling it away and buying one that doesn't snag your toes.

you once complained about the lack of legroom in her fucking porsche, so she bought you an suv. she's fucking insane.

and now she's done something truly crazy.

"you bought us a fucking house!?" you squawk. sevika shrugs with a smile. "sevika, we have a house!"

"we have a penthouse. penthouses don't have gardens. you want a garden."

"wh-- i do?!" you ask. sevika laughs.

"yeah, you do. remember? you told me on our first date what your dream house would be. you said something with charm, something you could make your own, something with a yard big enough for a garden and some pets."

the memory is so distant and blurry to you-- at the time you'd mostly just been talking out of your ass and fantasizing. but sevika remembered. because she's incredible.

"y-you're fucking insane." you cry. sevika smiles.

"good or bad?"

"sevika." you break down in tears, wrapping your arms around your wife. she laughs against you, rubbing your back. "y-you can't just buy a house without asking your wife!" you scold. she giggles.

"most people can't-- but we've got the money for it. i could buy you a dozen houses if you wanted."

"no!" you squeak. she laughs. you rip out of her arms to glare up at her. "you have got to stop doing this shit sevika, you're gonna give me a heart attack eventually!"

"you're gonna have a heart attack when you see the main bath in this place." she whispers with a sweet, excited smile. you burst into laughter and pull her in for a kiss. "if you hate it we can just put it back on the market, y'know." she mumbles. you snort.

"well... at least let me see the place first."

sevika grins, big and wide. you shake your head at her, in love and endlessly endeared by her. "i love you. i'd spoil you in any life, but i'm glad in this one i got the money to treat you the way you really deserve." she says.

you sigh dreamily and cup her face. "please tell me there's already a bed in there."

"...yeah, why?" sevika asks. you grin.

"i'm gonna ride you until you're paralyzed from the waist down, baby. c'mon. show me around my new house." you request, tugging sevika into the house by her tie.

sevika follows you with a dopey smile and hearts in her eyes.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@lavenderbabu @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @my-taintedheart

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen @annesunshiner

@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke

@strawberrykidneystone @sevikasfan @fict1onallyobsessed @dvrkhcld @sweetybuzz25

@sluttysierraaa @snake-in-a-flower-crown @ruiwonderz @littlemisszaunite @biblicalcrybaby

@blackgaladriel

[azfellandco]

It's about Crowley bearing witness to Aziraphale's desire, about the way that desire is animal and visceral and enormous and terrifying*. And about how Crowley sees that and wants it. Crowley offers the ox rib and watches Aziraphale eat because eating provides them no sustenance, it's purely for pleasure, sensual, selfish. And Crowley introduces Aziraphale to this, and thousands of years later still takes obvious pleasure in feeding Aziraphale, in watching him eat. In watching Aziraphale's pleasure.

And I think it's significant the things we see Crowley put into his body in s2, and why: six shots of espresso, as something bracing before seeing what it is that made Aziraphale call him in his "something's wrong" tone; whiskey, because he has to give Aziraphale some bad news; wine, because they "might as well get comfortable" during the storm coming down on Job, after Aziraphale learns that Crowley is actually pretty unhappy with Job's suffering; and poison, to dispose of it so Elspeth (or Wee Morag, I've fogotten which is which) doesn't die. Crowley doesn't take Aziraphale's "something that calms you down", only consumes things that not only don't bring him pleasure but are an attempt to prevent pain. Crowley, who introduced Aziraphale to this important physical, sensual, selfish pleasure, denies it to himself. He denies himself the eccles cakes, he denies himself partaking in food, and he denies himself Aziraphale.

And we see throughout the rest of the season other things he's denying himself: the comfort and safety of a home in the bookshop in favor of the mobility and ready-made escape of living in the Bentley, the surety of saying what he really means during the confession. He cannot bring himself to admit what he wants, that he wants. Gabriel and Beelzebub "going off together" is not what he wants. He wants Aziraphale, but he doesn't say that, because he's never, in the years and years and years we've seen this season, let himself want or be seen wanting. "Going off together" is as close as he can get to speaking it. "A group of the two of us" is as close as he can get. So he has to watch as Aziraphale leaves and takes his pleasure in the world with him.

[loveanddeepdick]

gummy bear

❤︎₊ ⊹ childhood bff!yuta okkotsu x f!reader || gummy bear is ur nickname that he gave u as a kid (also, this is yuta when he comes back from africa.. heart eyes)

warnings: both yuta and reader are in their early 20’s, piv sex, creampie, yuta is a virgin but there’s no corruption kink, childhood bffs to strangers to lovers, men turning into putty, lowkey sub yuta, he’s just down bad for you, freaky ass perv yuta but he fries his very best to be respectful to you, reader is implied to have slightly bigger than average boobs but honestly interpret however you’d like, porn with some plot, not revised lol just horny as always

summary: it’s been a while since you’ve seen your childhood best friend, yuta. you haven’t seen him since he left high school to be a sorcerer and although you guys tried staying in touch in high school, you haven’t heard a single peep from him after he left for africa. you understood him, mutually agreeing that you two were simply growing up and exploring new. however, when yuta comes back a new man, you can’t help but feel new feelings growing

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

you’d recently moved into a new apartment close to your new boring, but nicely paying, corporate job. on a random tuesday afternoon at the grocery store, you bump into a familiar face you hadn’t seen in years, almost not even recognizing him.

“oh shit- i’m so sorry-,” you stumble backwards as you run into what seemed like a human lamp post when you look up to meet a familiar pair of black eyes, accompanied with eye bags. “.. yuta? is that you?”, you almost laugh at the situation, not believing your eyes. he had much longer hair now, deeper eye bags, but still had the same anxious eyes.

“ow.. fuck, hey gummy bear, haven’t seen you in a while,” yuta looks down almost embarassed from his absence. the nickname rolls off his tongue so easily, like it was naturally your name and it makes u slightly blush.

when you and yuta met as kids, he initially introduced himself only because he wanted one of your gummy bears since it was also his favorite snack. he didn’t even learn your name until weeks after you guys were friends, only calling you gummy bear and the nickname sort of just stuck with him. the story always made you let out a dulcet sigh, cherishing the innocent memory.

“it’s not your fault, yuta!” you giggle, “i haven’t been really reaching out either.. i guess we’re both busy. how about we uh, catch up?” you suggest.

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

it had been a week since you and yuta had been reunited. and you slowly started to notice how attractive he’d grown to be. both you and yuta were sitting on the sole couch inside your nearly empty apartment, unpacked boxes littered everywhere as you procrastinated on putting everything together. enjoying each others presence as you both told stories about things that happened in your lives, you felt a sense of nostalgia washing over you, as if this was what you were missing for so long. you draped your legs over his lap as he lightly ran his hand over them like you guys would always do in high school. would this be something that only best friends did? probably not…

“oh my gosh, yu!”, you gasped, almost wiping a tear away, “you went through all of that? on your own?”. he stayed humble of course, shyly brushing it off as if it was no biggy.

he couldn’t help but trail his eyes over to your tight shirt, encasing the tits that he had not noticed back in high school. he swallowed hard, darting his eyes back to your face. the face that had only grown more gorgeous as you moved into adulthood. have you always been so beautiful?

“c’mon, yu, let’s watch a movie, like old times?”, you laugh. he nervously nodded before you took your laptop, propping it on the coffee table since you haven’t installed your TV yet. “sorry for the setup.. erm, well, i mean the lack thereoff”.

“nah, it’s f-fine, gummy bear”, he almost audibly gulped as he thanked god that you couldn’t see him taking in the sight of your ass pointing at him as you bent over to put on a movie. were you doing this on purpose? yuta had never been the perverted type. hell, he’d never even been the romantic type. you were basically the only girl— well, human girl—he’d been close to in his life. he averted his eyes as you turn back around. almost crying out loud as you cuddled into his lap, wrapping a blanket around both of you. like old times, right?

you enjoyed how tall yuta had grown (as well as the rest of him), resting your head in the crook of his neck as your back settled into his chest. “i hope this is comfortable, yu.. we haven’t done this in a while”, you mumble, wiggling to get yourself comfortable as he bites his tongue, praying he didn’t get a boner.

yuta instinctively wrapped his arms around your waist, nuzzling his face into your hair, subtly smelling it as he appreciated how your scent never changed. “m’okay, gummy bear”.

you smiled faltered a bit, having a small realization and shifting slightly off of his lap and onto his thigh instead, facing him. “oh god, i really hope you don’t have a girlfriend. we probably shouldn’t be doing this if you do!”, you frantically panicked. yuta responded with a curt shake of his head, his body acting before his mind to pull you back onto his lap.

you sighed in relief, wiggling back to your comfortable spot with more of a bounce than you should’ve. “oh that’s a relief, yu. i really missed you”, you mumbled, leaning back against his as your ass pressed against his groin, your hand subtly grazing his thigh. fuck, if he didn’t have a boner before he definitely had one now.

he slightly shifted you by your waist with his big, lanky hands, praying to god that you didn’t feel his boner. you did.

your eyes widened as you realized that he was getting turned on by whatever you’d been doing. yuta had never been inappropriate with you or even any other girl! your relationship was strictly platonic.. well until now. you wanted him to make up for lost time, for the years he’d been missing from your life. you were on a mission to make him snap.

“mmm, yuta, stop moving me..” you whined, “i was comfortable in my other spot”. you bounced back, landing right on his bulge as he bit back a whine. “yu, what’s in your pocket? i feel it against my butt..! you should probably take it out before i squish it or something”, you tease , rubbing your ass so his cock would slide riiight in between your asscheeks.

when yuta looked down at the sight, he nearly came in his pants. his raging boner was in between your asscheeks which were held in the confines of your sweatpants, his hands gripping at your waist as you slightly rubbed against him. the blanket was covering you from the rest of the room, albeit empty, but it felt like he was a high schooler in their house trying to hide being fucking freaky from their family.

“g-gummy bear, please-“ he was cut off by your hands moving up to cup your tits through your top, yuta almost, almost, gave them a squeeze but he held it in. you had no idea how much of a pervert he had become from seeing you again, pent up from years of no release and being a damn virgin his whole life.

“what, yu? don’t wanna cuddle with your best friend?” you inquire, feigning innocent. he then felt your nipples pebbling up underneath his palm. he hadn’t noticed earlier since it’d been slightly warm but fuck, you weren’t wearing a bra. he threw his head back, feeling like he was a fucking lion clawing inside an enclosure. and you were damn determined to let him out.

you grabbed his hand again, manipulating the pads of his fingers to rub against your nipples through your painfully thin shirt. “never fucked anyone while you were away, yu?”, you whispered as you felt him shake his head behind you.

“thought so. i mean, you can have all the practice you want with me.. right?”. before you could continue he yanked you up, manhandling you so you were pinned down on the couch.

“stop being a tease, gummy bear.. y’know i missed you so much, shit.. and you have the gall to grind on my boner? knowing i’m a damn virgin?” he huffed, his face inches from yours, “please, please, gummy bear. tell me you want this. tell me. if we do this we’ll never be just friends again. please, baby”, he whined.

you grabbed his face with both hands, crashing your lips into his. it felt like a century of pent up feelings had come breaking out like water from a dam. he humped you as if he was a fucking dog, moaning into the kiss. you flip over again, going on top of him as he admired how fucking sexy you looked, hair disheveled, lips slightly swollen, and your lip combo smudged. you scoot down slightly to tug against his pants, eyes widening as his erect, throbbing, cock springing out and slapping against his stomach with a slight pap.

you looked so damn hot and hungry, almost happily touching his cock, but before you could lean down to put your mouth on it, he grabbed your wrist.

“no, no, gummy bear, please, i want it first in your pussy, baby, please”. he sounded so good begging you took off your sweatpants faster than fucking barry allen. he threw his head back with a groan at the sight of your pussy, if he could, he would jump for joy right now but he was too focused on you.

“next time, you’re sitting on my fucking face, gummy bear”, he groaned. next time. you rubbed your pussy on his cock which laid flat against his stomach, his tip leaking precum on his toned abs.

“please, baby, don’t tease me. put it in..” he whined, his hand traveling down to rub at your clit and the other gripping your hip. with a small smile, you lean back, lining up his tip to your entrance, moaning as it caught onto your clit as you rubbed his cock over your hole.

“stop- fuckin teasing.” he grunted as his hips thrusted up, his cock entering your soaking wet pussy as you yelped. he was big. you had some experience with guys in college but no one ever could even reach his caliber of dick. you dropped down completely on his dick, feeling his balls against your ass and his public hair tickling your clit. you didn’t even care that he wasn’t trimmed and neither did he. fuck, he wouldn’t even care if you had a whole forest, i mean, he’s a sorcerer, he’s supposed to explore territory that’s unseen, right?

“fuck yes, yu! you’re so fucking big!” you yelp, beginning to move as you began to grind on his cock. slightly bouncing on it. yutas’s eyes trailed from your fucked out face to your pert tits, allll the way down to your pussy that had enveloped his dick. you almost wished you put some furniture out because all you could hear was the echos of your moans, yuta’s heaving breathing and whining, the squeaking of the couch, and the wet squelch of your pussy. you were definitely getting a noise complaint filed against you.

he thrusted up again and you let out an obscene whine, squeezing his dick which made him let out a loud, strangled moan. you peered down, noticing that he was starting to fucking cry from how good your pussy was.

“y-yu.. are you- ohh fuck, okay?” you bring your hand down to wipe his tears, peppering kisses on his face.

“s-such a good fucking- f.. FUCK.. pussy..” he groaned out, not even believing that his level of pleasure was possible. you were taken aback by his dirty words, but sighed in relief before he started to continuously thrust up, hitting your cervix over and over again.

yuta’s eyes wandered back to your tits, noticing that they’d began to slip out of your skimpy top. with one hard thrust, he almost came on the spot when they bounced out of their confines, nipples erect as your tits jiggled perfectly.

“g-gummy bear you’re so.. shit- perfect!” he shoved his face in between your tits as you let out a strangled moan from the extra pleasure. “perfect fucking tits. made just for me. fuck, thank you for waiting for me.. for not dating some fucking loser… all for me, yeah? right, gummy?” he lost himself in between your boobs.

“all for you, yuta baby, all for you!”.

“fuck- FUCK- gummy bear, cum with me, i can feel your pussy clenching, please baby, please cum with me”

he gave your tit one more sick before the coil in your stomach snapped, making you squirt for the first time in your life.

“fuck yes, gummy bear, squirt all over me, make a mess, baby yes, where do you want me?”

“i-inside please..” you were nearly crying as well from the overstimulation.

“don’t say that baby- fuck- you drive me crazy, gummy bear, i’m gonna cum in you, fuck yeah,” he groaned before thrusting up harshly one last time, his thrusts calming to slow, shallow humping. he pulled out, admiring how well your pussy took him as you whimpered from the new empty feeling. you huffed, thinking he was satisfied.

“you didn’t think i was done, right, gummy bear?”, he smiled, his almost eerie eyes peering up at you as he pulled you up, making you plop right on top of his face.

“‘gotta keep my promise. my best friend was waiting for me at home all these years, after all”

[7ndipity]

Limbo

Yoongi x Reader

Summary: You and Yoongi have been friends for over a year, but when Yoongi realizes that his feelings for you might be something more, he pulls away, fearing the pains of the past will repeat themselves. You just want to give him the love he deserves; can he accept it, or will he hide away from you?

Word Count: 3.5k(whoops lol)

Warnings: 18+ mdni, angst, mutual pining, mentions of drinking, swearing, mentions of bad/toxic past relationships, eventual smut at the end, handjob, subby Yoongi bc I said so, not proofread

A/N: I got several requests while I was gone wanting some angst to fluff/smut with Yoongi, so I kinda combined them all into this mess hehe. It def got away from me, but I hope you'll all enjoy it!

Masterlist

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It’s strange how little things that seem almost insignificant at first glance, take on so much more meaning to us than we ever expect them to. Songs on the radio, a specific perfume or food, random little trinkets that can be found in almost any gift shop. Like the keychain that Yoongi fiddled with absentmindedly as he rode the elevator up to his friend Hee-jun’s apartment.

The tiny bear figure was nothing particularly remarkable on its own, but it had come to hold a certain sense of peace for Yoongi whenever he held onto it, like his own little good luck charm, something to help keep him centered when he was feeling overwhelmed, much like now as he stepped into his friends crowded apartment.

He quickly found his usual place, tucked safely into the corner of the sofa, steering clear of the noise and chaos of the main group as they talked and drank.

His friend was always encouraging him to come over for his weekend hangouts, insisting to Yoongi that all the energy and music would help clear his head and give him inspiration for work. Yoongi wasn’t particularly in the mood for this much noise and stimuli though. He’d spent the better part of the past week holed up in his studio working several new songs, though his results had been underwhelming by his standards. He was tired and had half a mind to just slip back out the door and go home without saying anything.

His mood however perked up instantly as he caught sight of a familiar figure slipping through the front door, his eyes following you as you grabbed a drink and glanced about the room, your face breaking into a huge grin as you spotted him watching you.

“I thought you said you weren’t coming this week?” You asked, taking the empty seat next to him. “What happened to “I’m too busy being a musical genius” or whatever?”

“I was persuaded otherwise.” He replied dryly, ignoring your growing amused grin.

“I’m glad.” You said.

“Didn’t say it was you, I’m just here to get back the whiskey that Hee-Jun owes me, one glass at a time.” He responded, tipping back the last of his drink as he spoke, making you laugh.

“Whatever you say, bro.” You relented.

“Yah! I’ve told you not to call me bro.” He complained.

The two of you fell into your usual routine of conversation and bickering, much the same as every other night you had spent together since you’d first met over a year ago, when Hee-jun had invited you to a group dinner and introduced you to everyone.

Yoongi had found himself instantly charmed by you, your friendly but sarcastic attitude matching his perfectly. He had spent the majority of that first night talking eagerly with you, much to the surprise of the others, not used to seeing this side of Yoongi.

Your friendship had quickly grown after that. He had found himself completely drawn in by you, finding it remarkably easy to talk with you and wanting to learn every little thing about you. Yoongi’s friends loved to tease him about his being whipped for you, pointing out things like how he always claimed that he was too busy to hang out with them, but he somehow always managed to make time for you, but he didn’t pay them much mind. He was happy around you, really truly happy. He felt safe and comfortable with you, which was something that didn’t come very easy for Yoongi.

There were times though, usually on late nights when you were still hanging out long after one of you should’ve gone home, when he would wonder if there was some truth to his friend’s jokes, feeling a faint but insistent twinge in his chest, as if something were struggling for freedom, but he quelled it down, passing it off as just a passing thought, a flicker of something that didn’t really mean anything… Right?

The rest of the evening passed in a blur of drinks and talking to you and his friends over the too loud music until late. He was in the middle of a discussion with one of the members when he felt a sudden weight against his shoulder.

Glancing down, he was met with your sleeping figure, your face nuzzled against the material of his jacket, 

All at once, that twisting feeling in his chest had returned, far more pronounced and forceful than usual, his heart stuttering like the moments before the drop on a rollercoaster. His mind went blank as he stared down at you, a familiar warmth spreading through him that had nothing to do with the alcohol in his system.

Fuck, he loved you.

He loved you, with your dumb jokes and peach flavored lip balm, your terrible playlists and your quiet little hums when you're nervous, and the way you hid behind your hands when you laughed. He loved every little thing about you and he suddenly can’t breathe as he stared down at your sleeping form, taking in how perfectly you fit against his side. He stayed there for a while, not quite sure what to do now.

“Y/n?” He whispered.

“Mhm.” You stirred, shifting closer, but not fully surfacing from sleep.

He was quiet for a second, mind whirring as he tried to decide what action he should take.

He could just tell you, nudge you again gently till you woke properly, blinking up at him all drowsy and confused and utterly adorable.

“I think… I love you.” The words were simple enough in theory, mumbled out as his dark eyes bore into your own, begging for this to not be a mistake.

For a moment you didn’t move, staring as if unsure of what you’d heard, before suddenly pushing yourself up, seeking out his lips.

He wrapped his arms around you, savoring the taste of you as he pulled you closer, letting out a soft groan as your hands found their way into his hair, nails scratching over his scalp and raising goosebumps over his whole body-

The sound of glass breaking in the kitchen behind the two of you shattered the moment, ripping Yoongi roughly from his daydream.

“Yah, you see?! This is why I don’t let you help!” Jin scolded loudly.

“It wasn’t my fault!” Joon snapped back, equally loud.

“How was that not-?!”

The chaos from the kitchen had pulled you from sleep, sitting up quickly and blinking around in confusion and concern.

“What happened?” You asked groggily, shaking off the last hints of sleep.

“It’s just the guys being dumb-asses, don’t worry.” He assured you, but he shifted away subtly, a strange sense of relief flooding his system.

Mumbling out a faint excuse, he ducked down the hall to the bathroom, catching sight of his expression in the mirror as he splashed some water on his face in an attempt to clear his head. 

His cheeks were flushed a deep rosy hue, his eyes slightly too big, pupils blown wide.

What the fuck was wrong with him?! He couldn’t do this, he couldn’t say those things to you. He’d fallen down that hole before, letting his feelings get the better of him confessing, only to be viciously rejected. Or worse yet, having his feelings falsely returned, and ending up with his heart twisted into something he didn’t even recognize for the other person's benefit and pleasure, leaving him to pick up the warped pieces when they had used him up.

He couldn’t let that happen with you, he couldn’t risk ruining one of the best friendships he’s had in years over some stupid infatuation.

Taking care not to be noticed, he silently slipped out the door and made his way home, sending a half-assed text to you and his other friends about not feeling well before turning his phone off and flopping onto his bed.

He would fix this, he promised to himself, he just needed to give his little crush some time to run its course and get out of his system, like a cold or the flu. In the meantime, he decided it would be best to put some space between the two of you, try and wean himself off the dependency that he had developed with you. It wasn’t good for him to ‘need’ someone as much as he did you, it would only lead to regret if he wasn’t careful.

He could do this, he tried to convince himself. He could correct these feelings and go back to how your friendship was before.

He had to.

For the next few weeks, he did his best to avoid you without being too obvious, claiming things like busy schedules as why he was suddenly never around.

He tried to convince himself that this was necessary and the better of two options, but the full truth was that he was miserable.

He hadn’t realized just how much you had been seeped into his day to day life until he tried to go without you. There were no silly texts convos to keep his spirits up during the day, his evenings dull and quiet, no warm laughter or teasing jokes to pull a smile out of him, no encouraging touches on his hand when he was feeling frustrated or random little backhugs that brought more peace and comfort than he ever thought was possible.

He knew he could easily remedy the situation and just face his feelings and talk to you, but the ghosts of his past kept creeping up on him, whispering in his ear that he would ruin everything if he dared open himself like that again. 

His heart argued however with him constantly in your defence. This time it could be different, you were so different from all those people in his past, so kind and warm and patient.

He knew deep down that you would never do anything to intentionally hurt him, but his fear left him in a constant state of limbo, frustrated with himself and confused about how to move forward.

He decided to take Holly on a long walk to try and help clear his head, fidgeting with the tiny bear charm on his keyring in his pocket as he often did when he was frustrated.

Even this made his thoughts circle back to you. You’d given it to him not long after you’d become friends, having taken him out for dinner one evening when he had been having a tough week. You’d wandered around the city without any real plans, eating snacks from street vendors, talking and goofing around till he felt his chest finally begin to lighten. You’d won the keychain charm in a random gatcha capsule machine and had insisted that it resembled him, dropping it in his hand and saying that he should keep it as a good luck charm.

He’d humored you somewhat reluctantly at first, but he’d found himself toying with the charm whenever he was anxious or uneasy, a sense of comfort and certainty creeping through him whenever he held onto it, your words echoing through his mind.

Apparently the universe was as fed up with Yoongi’s bullshit as he was, deciding that since he wouldn’t make a decision on his own, it would give him a push in the form of you on his doorstep as he returned home with Holly from their walk.

The tiny dog rushed to greet you, having missed your presence almost as much as his owner had the past few weeks, excitedly bouncing around your feet as you tried to pet him.

Hi buddy.” You giggled before glancing up to meet Yoongi’s eye. “Hey Yoongs.”

“H-hey.” He swallowed nervously. “What are you doing here?”

“I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d say hi.” You said, still playing with Holly.

He watched the two of you, a tiny smile making its way across his face as he took in the way your expression lit up as you cooed over the little poodle, your smile warming him more than the lingering hints of summer in the air, instantly weaving your way back into his heart.

“You wanna come in?” The words had a slight wobble as they left his mouth, as if he was asking himself more than you.

You nodded. “I’d like that.”

He let the three of you into the house, debating awkwardly on what he should do before settling next you on the sofa.

It was quiet for a moment, neither of you quite knowing where to start.

“So, how’s the new album going?” You offered.

The two of you talked for a while, quickly falling back into your usual routine, talking about everything from work to friends to the new project you’d been working on, but there was clearly an unspoken ‘something’ hanging in the air between you, Yoongi gradually losing himself in just listening and watching you, the way your eyes flashed as you spoke, the way you talked through your hands. 

It was several minutes before you noticed the way he was staring at you, his eyes distant, an almost dreamy glaze over them.

“What?” You asked.

He shrugged.

“You just look happy.” He replied.

“I am happy.” You confirmed, lightly shoving his shoulder. “I’m always happy when I’m with you.”

Your words sent a quiet thrill through him, warm and hopeful, but your next words also triggered a twinge of guilt.

“I’ve missed this, you, the past few weeks.” You admitted, playing with your hands on your lap. “I was honestly starting to think you were avoiding me.” You laughed nervously, trying to lighten the weight behind your words.

He was silent for a moment, the decision that he’d been avoiding hanging in the air again.

“Actually… I kinda was.” He admitted. “No, I know I was.” 

Your expression fell. “Why? Did I do something-?”

“No no, it wasn’t anything you did.” He quickly assured you. “It was-, it was a ‘me thing’ I needed to figure out.”

“What kind of thing?” You asked.

He hesitated.

Fuck it.

“The fact that I haven’t been honest with myself, or you, about a lot of things, like the fact that I like you… as more than a friend.”

Your mouth fell open at his admission, but Yoongi pressed on, fearing that if he stopped now, he might never get it out.

He laid everything out, his feelings for you and his fears and scars from the past and why he pulled away from you, his gaze never straying from the ground in front of him as he spoke.

“Through all of this, I realized a couple things.” He said. 

You waited for him to continue.

 “I could live without you, but I would fucking hate it.” He finally glanced up at you, his eyes unusually vulnerable. 

“I hated not seeing you, hated not hearing your laugh, not smelling your perfume of your stupid coffee order in my car after driving you to work. I hated it, but it was all my own fault, because I was too much of a coward to admit that I liked you more than I thought was possible, more than I should. “

“Yoongi-” You tried. but he kept going.

“And you can tell me to fuck off and that you don’t feel the same, and I’ll gladly leave you alone, or go back to being just friends, but I just wanted-”

“Yoongi, shut up.” You said, not harshly, but firmly enough to snap his mouth closed instantly. 

His heart pounded loudly in his chest, the silence stretching between you deafening as he waited for you to speak

“You really think you’re the only one who’s been feeling like this? Who’s been afraid?” You asked quietly, your voice trembling with emotion. “You think I haven’t thought about if we?... If I told you…” You took an unsteady breath, Yoongi staring at you in disbelief. “Why did you say something before-?

“I was afraid,” He admitted, feeling tears beginning to prick at his eyes. “Afraid that you wouldn’t want this. Or worse, that you would.”

Your eyes saddened as you reached out, fingers brushing against his cheek. “Why would that be worse?”

“Because I don’t wanna break this, I don’t wanna lose you” He whispered, his voice cracking. “Not when you mean so much to me.”

Suddenly, the distance between you felt unbearable, the space filled with the weight of thousands of unspoken feelings.

Before he could think, you closed the gap, leaning so close you could feel each other's shaky breaths, causing goosebumps to rise on your skin.

“Say it,” You whispered, the words barely audible. “I won’t hurt you… just say it.”

For a moment, you thought he might retreat, that he might hide behind the walls he’d built around himself again. But then his gaze softened, a quiet resolve settling into his chest.

“I love you,” He breathed, the words falling from his lips easily, soft and unguarded. “I love you so fucking much.”

He leaned in, letting his forehead rest against yours, his hand coming up to caress your cheek. His touch was gentle, reverent, as if you might disappear if he held on too tightly. 

But you weren’t going anywhere. Not when you’d just been offered the world in his hands.

You couldn’t find your words. Instead, you closed the distance between you, your lips crashing against his in a way that felt both brand new and familiar all at once, like finally coming home.

The world around you melted away, his arms wrapped around you tightly, shielding you from everything that could ever dare try to distract from this moment, pulling you close, feeling how perfectly you pressed against him.

His lips were soft and warm on yours, his touch achingly tender, every brush of his fingers against your skin like a spark of electricity.

When you finally broke apart, breathless, his eyes stayed scrunched closed, as if trying to savor every ounce of this feeling.

His fingers traced gentle paths up and down your arms to your shoulders, his breath warm against your skin.

“I don’t know-,” He whispered, his voice laced with vulnerability and need, drawing away slightly. “Fuck, I want so much, but I don’t know if we should-”

“Don’t hide away from me again, please.” You begged, following him to keep close, your lips brushing against his as you spoke, sending shivers rippling through him. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, but don’t be don’t hide. Show me what you need. Please.”

At your words, Yoongi felt the last remnants of his fear crumble away, replaced only by a deep craving and need for you. 

Crushing his lips to yours again, he gave himself over to the kiss fully, gripping your waist and pulling you to straddle him properly.

His lips trailed down down your jaw to your neck, sucking marks on the sensitive skin as he went and causing you to writhe and squirm in his hold, grinding down against the growing bulge in his pants.

He let out a pained groan. 

“Touch me, god please, touch me.” He begged into your neck, bucking up into you desperately.

There was a blur of fumbling with buttons and zippers, your shirt thrown away somewhere behind the sofa, leaving your heaving chest bare for him to paw amd suck at hungrily.

You snaked a hand between you to stroke his aching length through his boxers, his head dropping to rest against your shoulder as he bucked up into your touch, moaning into your skin.

“Please.” He begged, for what he didn’t even fully know.

You shifted back just enough to free him from the confines of his underwear, his cock springing up against his abdomen, the tip red and leaking, desperate for any sort of relief.

As he watched through glazed-over eyes, you let your spit drip down onto his cock for lubrication, wrapping your hand around him and stroking him slowly to spread it over him, reveling in the way he twitched and whined under your touch.

“Fuck, Y/n, m-more please.” He moaned, his hips bucking up to chase your hand.

You sped up your movements, twisting your wrist just right as he clung to you, your foreheads pressed together, breathing each other's air. The whole thing almost felt more intimate than if he were actually inside you.

”I-, fuck, I’m gonna-” He panted, pulsing in your grip.

“Let go baby, I got you.” 

He came with a shuddering groan, curling into you as he painted your hand with streaks of white that dribbled back down onto his twitching length, making him shiver with oversensitivity.

“Fuck, Y/n, that was, I-” He struggled to catch his breath, leaning against you heavily.

“Yoongi?”

“Hmm?”

“I love you too.” You kissed his lips lightly, moving to detangle yourself from him so you could clean the two of you up, when he caught you by the waist, pulling you back down on the sofa, pinning you under him, his eyes dark as they stared into yours.

“Where do you think you’re going, darling? We’re just getting started.”

“Now it’s your turn.”

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @feminympho @classicalelephant @dfqcsqueen @mother2monsters @comingupwithacoolnameishard @bo0ghol @universal-travel-er @k4ngelz

[inkskinned]

most writing advice is good as long as you know why it is good, at which point it is also bad. the hardest thing (and most precious thing) about being an artist is that you gotta learn how to take critique. i don't mean "just shut up and accept that people hate your work," i mean you need to learn what the critique is saying and then figure out if it actually helps.

i usually tell people reading my work: "i'm collecting data, so everything is useful." i ask them where they put the book down, even though it's too long for most people to read in 1 sitting. i ask them what they thought of certain characters. i let them tell me it was really good but i like it more when they look a little stunned and say i forgot i was reading your book, which means they forgot i exist, which is very good news.

sometimes people i didn't ask will read my work and tell me i don't like it. and that is okay, you don't have to like it. but i look at the thing that they don't like and try to figure out if i care. i don't like that you don't capitalize. this one is common, and i have already thought about it. i do not care, it's because of chronic pain and frankly i like the little shape of small letters. you use teeth and ribs in all your work. actually that is very true. i don't know what's up with that. next time i will work to figure out a different word, thank you. you're whiny, go outside. someone said that to me recently and it made me laugh. i am on the whine-about-it website as an internet poet. you are in my native habitat, watching me perform a natural enrichment behavior. but i like the dip of whiny, how the word itself does "whine" (up/down, the sound out your nose on the y), but i don't know if i want to feel whiny. maybe next time i will work on it being melancholy, like what you would call a male writer's poetry.

repeated "good" advice clangs in a bell and doesn't hold a real shape, dilutes in the water. like sometimes you will hear "don't use said." you turn that around in your head and it bounces off the edges of your brain like it is a dvd screensaver. it isn't bad advice, but it feels wrong somehow, like saying easy choices are illegal! sometimes i will only use "said." sometimes i will just kick dialogue tags out to the trash. sometimes i make little love poems where the fact that i do not say "said" is very bad, and makes you feel bad in your body, because someone didn't say something. i am a contrary little shitbird, i guess.

but it is also good advice, actually. it is trying to say that "said" sometimes is clutter. it makes new writers think about the very-small words and very-small choices, because actually your work matters and wordchoice matters. "i know," you said. "i know," you sighed. "i know." we both know but neither of us use a dialogue tag, because we are in a contemporary lit piece.

it is too-small to say don't use said. but it is a big command, so it gets your attention. what are you relying on? what easy choices do you make? when you edit, do you choose the same thing? can you make a different choice? sometimes we need the blankness of said, how it slides into the background. sometimes we don't.

i usually say best advice is to read, but i also mean read books you don't like, because that will make you angry enough to write your own book. i also mean read good books, which will break your heart and remind you that you are a very small person and your voice is a seashell. i also mean you need to eat books because reading a book is a writer's version of studying.

my creative writing teacher in the 7th grade had a big red list of no! words and on it was SUNSET. RAZORS. LOVE. GALAXY. DEATH. BLOOD. PAIN. I liked that razor and love were tucked next to each other like birds, and found it funny that he believed we were too young to know the weight of razor in the context of pain. i hated him and his Grateful Dead belt, where the colored teddy bears held up his appraisal of us. i hated his no list. it is very good/bad advice. i wasn't old enough yet to know that when you are writing about death you are also writing about sunsets and when you write about love you are tucking yourself into a napkin that never stops folding.

back then my poetry was all bloody, dripped with agony when you picked it up. i didn't know there is nothing beautiful about a razor, nothing exciting about pain. i just understood sharpness, which he took to mean i understood nothing. i wrote the razor down and it wasn't easy, but it was necessary. that's what i'm saying - sometimes it's good advice, because it's not always necessary. and sometimes it is very bad advice, because writing about it is lifesaving.

hang on my dog was just having a nightmare. i heard that it is a rule not to write about dogs - in my creative writing mfa, my teacher rolled her eyes and said everyone writes a dead dog. the literature streets are littered in canine bodies. i watched the rise and fall of his ribs (there is that word again) and had to reach out and stop the bad dream. when he woke up he didn't recognize me, and he was afraid.

it is good/bad advice to say that poems and writing have to mean something. it is bad/good advice to say they're big feelings in small packages. it is better advice to say that when my dog saw where he was, he relaxed immediately, rubbed his face against me. someone on instagram would make fun of that moment by writing their "internet poetry" as a sentence that tumbles across a white page: outside it is sunset and my dog is still in a gutter, bleeding a galaxy out of his left paw. or maybe it would be: i woke the dog up/the dog forgot i loved him/and i saw the shape of a senseless/and impossible pain.

the dog is alive in this one, and he is happy. when i tell you i love you, i know what i said. write what you need to write, be gentle to yourself about it. the advice is only as good as far as it helps. the rest is just fencing. take stock of the boundaries, and then break them. there's always somewhere else you could be growing.

i love you, keep going.

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

The Best Friend Showdown

Season four had many, many flaws. One of the big ones was the Rena Rouge vs Chat Noir conflict where Ladybug starts relying on Alya more and more, basically using her to replace Master Fu. We get a sense that Chat Noir feels inferior to Rena Rouge because of this change, but it’s never directly addressed. The most we get is this conversation from Hack-San:

Ladybug: I'm really sorry, Cat Noir. I should've told you. I mean, if I found out that you told someone about your secret identity, I'd... probably be upset, too. I'm really sorry I hurt your feelings. Cat Noir: You didn't hurt my feelings. You did everything right. 

Which is actually a really weird bit of dialogue because - as far as I can tell - nothing in the episode revealed that Scarabella knew Ladybug's identity. She hands out miraculous all the time and no one knows who she really is. Why would this time be different? Ladybug could just show up in costume, explain what's up, and then hand off the earrings while using yet another miraculous.

Anyway, the Rena Rouge vs Chat Noir conflict is “resolved” by Rena Rouge being outed again (and I guess that matters this time), leading her to give up her miraculous so that Gabriel can’t steal it away, which of course leads Gabriel to steal it away and fully disempower Ladybug’s larger team, leaving Chat Noir her only teammate.

How satisfying! This is such good, character-driven story telling!

It’s not. This is plot contrivances to the max with no meaningful character beats, but we’re not here to talk about that. We’re here to do one of my favorite things: gush about a relevant Kim Possible episode! Today’s topic is episode 12 of season one: Pain King vs. Cleopatra, the episode that introduces Kim’s female BFF, Monique!

This was a bit of a shocker for me because I didn’t realize that Kim and Monique weren’t pre-series friends. Turns out that, much like Alya, Monique is a new girl, which isn’t a bad call. This was a nice way to delay Monique’s introduction for a few episodes so that the writers could focus on establishing Kim’s relationship with other key members of the cast like her partner, Ron. Spacing out your intros is the way to go whenever you can pull it off as it’s a kindness to your audience that keeps them from feeling overwhelmed, making it more likely that they’ll remember your cast.

The other, more important similarity between Alya and Monique is that, when Kim’s hero partner and life-long friend finds out about Monique, he is less than thrilled:

Kim: I barely got to see them. Right after I hooked up with Monique, the museum was robbed by some glowing-headed animal guy. Ron: Oh, that's nice. Ron: Wait a minute, who's Monique? Kim New friend, really great. Anyway, the thief stole an enchanted ancient talisman. Ron: Whoa, whoa, back up! How can I not know about a new friend? Kim: I met her at Club Banana, then again at the museum before I chased the glowing robber. Ron: So what's she like? Kim: The robber? Ron: The friend, Kim, the "new friend".

Throughout the episode, Kim and Monique continue to bond without Ron, leaving Ron feeling left out:

Ron: Seein' a pattern here, Rufus: Kim does her thing, I do my thing, and pretty soon - we're doing different things.

Which leads him to get a little territorial:

Kim Ron! What are you doing here? Ron: Can I dine with my best friend and her new friend? Kim: Uuh, Ron, Monique, and vice versa. Ron: Bearclaw? Monique: No, thanks, I'm vegetarian. Ron: Uhm, I'm pretty sure it's imitation bear? Kim: She's joking, Ron. Ron: Good one, hahaha, ha, good one. So, did Kim tell you that I'm her sidekick? Cause that role is definitely taken by me. Monique: Riiiight. Well, in... you know I better get to class. Later, Kim. Um, n-nice meeting you, Ron. Ron: Likewise, I'm sure! Kim: What is your problem? You're acting really weird. Ron: Well, let's see. You went to the museum with Monique, not me. Monique was with you this morning, not me. Hmm, pattern? Kim: Yeah. You. Weird. Ron: No, we're drifting apart because you're excluding me. Kim: I am not excluding you. It's just that you and Monique are... different.

Noticing some similarities to Miraculous here?

So how does Kim Possible resolve this conflict?

Well, the plot of this episode resolves around Kim Possible’s version of professional wrestling, the GWA. There’s a competition going on that Kim has no interest in watching (mood), but when Kim mentions the GWA to Monique:

Monique: Why didn't you bring [Ron] along? Kim: Unless someone put a waiter in a headlock, this is definitely not Ron's scene. Besides, he had a date with "Steel Toe". Monique: He scored tickets to Mayhem in Middleton? The GWA rocks! Kim: What?

It turns out that Monique and Ron have a shared interest! Multiple shared interests, in fact! Interests that Kim does not share:

Monique: You know, I still can't believe you met Pain King and Steel Toe. Ron: I can't believe you're into wrestling. Kim: I can't believe I know either one of you.

By the end of the episode, the conflict is resolved not with Kim having to pick a BFF or with Monique somehow being demoted, but by showing that this didn’t need to be a conflict at all. Kim can have multiple close friends that she shares different interests with without any of those friends being lesser. Those friends can, in turn, have their own friendships that don’t always involve her.

It’s a genuinely lovely resolution that makes me love this little friend group because it now has added complexity. Monique and Ron are friends in their own right! Kim is not the center of the universe in spite of her main character status!

I also love that Kim isn’t vilified for having other friends or portrayed as constantly leaving Ron out of things that he'd want to do in favor of Monique. Ron genuinely would not enjoy most of the things that the girls love to do together. At the same time, Ron’s feeling aren’t treated as totally irrational either and Kim even admits to ditching him. It’s a genuine, complex conflict that is super common when someone enters a new relationship be it platonic or romantic.

Obviously Kim Possible’s version of this conflict feels far less complex than Miraculous’ because Kim Possible understood that Ron should be Kim’s one-and-only partner, so his position was really never threatened. Monique does not want to be an action hero and is never given the sort narrative weight that elevates her to Ron’s level or higher, but that doesn't matter. The basic lesson here is still relevant and super important for the intended audience of both of these shows.

There did not need to be a Rena Rouge vs Chat Noir conflict that never got properly resolved. Miraculous could have made these two friends and no, Scarabella doesn't count because Chat Noir has no idea that Scarabella is Rena Rouge/Furtive. Their relationship ended at the end of Hack-San. He didn't even know that Rena Furtive was a thing until she was in the process of being benched and that's the problem.

Kim Possible is not a team show, Miraculous is, and yet Kim Possible has better team dynamics than Miraculous. Monique could have joined Kim's team at the end of Pain King vs. Cleopatra and it would have felt natural because both Kim and Ron had welcomed Monique and formed a genuine bond with her. This is a true friend group that Miraculous can only dream of even though they've been adding new superheroes since season two.

We're going into a season with a full, massive team and yet that team has no established dynamics on the hero side. It's not a functional team! None of these characters have meaningful relationships with each other as heroes save for Alya and Nino since they know each other’s secret identities. The only relationships Miraculous cares about are the various romances and everyone's relationship to Marinette and everyone suffers for it.

The show would not have been harmed by Rena Rouge, Chat Noir, and Ladybug being a team. It was the thing I kept think after watching the Kim Possible episode. Since the team is the end game, why aren't we seeing them? It would have been so nice to have Hack-San end with Ladybug introducing Chat Noir to Rena Furtive instead of a nonsense discussion about an issue the episode didn't even address.

[chahnniesroom]

some loves

pairing: bang chan x female reader

summary: some loves are too hard to bear. years after being trainees together, chan still thinks of you all the time. he has no idea that a collaboration would lead him back to you.

word count: 6.9k

tags/warnings: reader is an independent singer/songwriter, hurt/comfort, angst, mentions of past injuries, a little bit of jealousy, i am still in denial that chan doesn't do lives anymore, hongjoong from ateez is in this fic

read it on ao3 | masterlist

a/n: once again, sorry for the long time between posts. disclaimer that i do not know much about how the music/idol industry works and i did not really do much research. also i'm not an atiny so sorry if my portrayal of hongjoong is not realistic at all. also also i did a lot of the writing on a new tablet doing handwriting with a stylus to text so please forgive any typos or weird formatting! i didn't have a chance to edit much so i may have missed some things.

Chan’s in his studio when he gets the call. At first, he doesn’t even realise his phone is ringing. It’s 2am on a weekday and he’s been working away for a few hours so the rest of the world has just about faded into the background.

He’s both surprised and intrigued when he looks at the caller ID and sees Hongjoong’s name. Chan would consider Hongjoong to be a friend, but they’re not particularly close and he can’t think of a reason that would warrant this late night call.

“Hey hyung,” Hongjoong greets him briefly before getting straight to the point. “What’s your schedule like in the next few months?”

“It’s actually not too bad,” Chan replies after a moment of thought. “We’re just finalising all the music for the next album so it’ll be a bit of time before we get busy with recording and filming for the comeback. What’s up?”

“You don’t have the answer now and I don’t want you to feel any pressure at all, but would you be interested in doing a collab together?”

“A collab?” Chan repeats. “Like, ATEEZ and Stray Kids?”

“We could,” Hongjoong says reluctantly. “But actually, if you’re up for it then I was thinking more like just you and me. I have a couple tracks that we could work off of and I’ve roped in someone to help me with recording, engineering, and production.”

“Who?” Chan asks, interest piqued.

“Not sure if you’ve heard of them, they go by the name HALLA.”

Chan recognises the name instantly. When Chan had first stumbled upon HALLA one late night scrolling and listening to different independent artists, they seemed relatively unknown. However, a little research revealed that they had KOMCA credits on a number of songs for idol groups, some of which had become widely popular. Their personal work was a variety of genres and a majority of the tracks didn’t have vocals, but the ones that did had clever or thoughtful lyrics. There were a couple of different voices featured in the original songs, both of which were smooth and melodic. HALLA has a style that Chan thinks would complement Stray Kids and he’s considered reaching out to them a few times, but was always held back by something.

There was little about HALLA posted on the internet and while Chan definitely appreciates their privacy, he’s curious to meet the person behind all the songs that he enjoyed. There’s just something familiar about all their music that he can’t quite place, something that he wants more of.

“I’m in,” Chan agrees.

“You can take some time to think about it, talk to JYPE to see what their thoughts are too.”

“No need, I’m interested and I know I can convince management to support this.”

“Well that was easy,” Hongjoong says and Chan can basically hear him grinning through the phone. “And for my own pride, I’m going to pretend that you said yes the second I suggested the collab instead of when I mentioned HALLA-ssi.” Chan instantly flushes and is glad that Hongjoong can’t see him over the phone.

“It wasn’t-” Chan begins to protest.

“It’s okay,” Hongjoong interrupts. “I’m also pretty thrilled to get to work with them, so I understand. Didn’t realise you were familiar with their work, but I guess a hidden gem like them can’t stay hidden for long. I’ll send some files over to you and we can organise a time to work.”

—

Chan finds it easy to work with Hongjoong and they make quick progress on the song, writing lyrics and creating a guide within a couple of weeks. Before he knows it, they’ve scheduled a time for Chan to visit KQ Entertainment to record vocals. Hongjoong knows that Chan is keen to be involved in the production and arrangement of the song too, so they also have a couple sessions booked for that, although Hongjoong teases him relentlessly about just wanting to work with HALLA. The worst part is that Chan can’t even deny it.

Hongjoong meets him at the entrance of KQ Entertainment and quickly takes him through security.

“HALLA-ssi is already in the studio,” Hongjoong explains as they wait for the elevator to arrive. “I was getting input on a track that’s been killing me for the past few days.”

“Did they help?” Chan asks, a little surprised that HALLA is involved in more than just this collaboration. He still hasn't had a chance to connect with them other than quick introductions through text a couple of days ago and he's just as excited to meet them as initially.

“Yeah!” Hongjoong grins, eyes curving into little crescents. “HALLA-ssi is amazing. She only had listen to it a couple times before she came up with suggestions on a few different ways to fix the part that I hated. I left her to finish cleaning the song up and then it’s basically ready for review.”

“How did you start working with HALLA-ssi? I’ve been meaning to try to connect with her.”

“It was actually a friend that suggested working with her. For someone who isn’t signed with a label- which I don’t know how nobody has signed her yet- she’s surprisingly well connected within the industry. I’m sure that KQ would be more than happy to have her work with us, but when I hinted at that, she didn’t seem interested.”

“Really?” Although KQ Entertainment is still one of the smaller companies in the industry, most unsigned artists would still jump at the chance to work there since they have a good reputation, especially due to ATEEZ’s popularity.

“I haven’t poked too much, it’s not really my business. I thought I might as well try. I just know that she’s amazing at her job and I’m grateful that I get to work with her at all.”

They turn the corner to the hallway that leads to the recording studio. The door is ajar and Hongjoong opens it, waving his arm forward to allow Chan to walk through first, before following closely behind.

HALLA’s sitting at the desk and the second Chan sees her face, he stops in his tracks.

“Y/n,” Chan breathes.

You look up, startled, and your eyes connect for a split second before Hongjoong crashes into Chan, sending them both tumbling to the ground.

“Hyung,” Hongjoong complains, unaware of Chan’s inner turmoil. “Why’d you stop?”

Chan lets out an apologetic wheeze from where he’s now trapped under Hongjoong, before resting his forehead against the ground. He needs a second to recover.

It feels like a punch to the gut to see you in front of the recording studio’s computer, fiddling with a track. You look different, but somehow it feels like Chan has been transported right back to his trainee days and all that time that the two of you had spent side by side.

It has been years since Chan last saw you. He had found out that you had left JYPE just months after Stray Kids officially debuted, but all efforts to track you down had been futile. You had changed your number and broken contact with all the other trainees. He had asked around a little bit, but everyone he talked to had been unusually cagey about the subject.

Suddenly, everything makes more sense, especially the little that he knows about HALLA.

As trainees, Chan’s favourite moments had been when you had regaled him with stories of growing up on Jeju Island. The two of you had connected early on through your shared love of the ocean. You had promised him that if he ever went to visit in his free time, you would take him on the best trails up to the Hallasan, the shield volcano, and show him incredible views from the highest point on the island. Occasionally, your parents would send you care packages and the two of you would open them hidden away in one of the vocal practice rooms, the sweet citrus of hallabong exploding in your mouths.

You had always spoken about Jeju Island so fondly, of course you would find a way to indirectly pay homage through the stage name that you chose.

“Oppa,” your voice rings out in the silence of the room. Now, Chan knows why the female voice on some of HALLA’s songs had always seemed hauntingly familiar. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” both Chan and Hongjoong say at the same time, then make eye contact with identical confused expressions.

“Hongjoong-ssi, you didn’t mention that the person you wanted to feature on the track was Channie-oppa,” you say, making it clear who you were addressing your concern to earlier.

“It was supposed to be a surprise!” Hongjoong gets up slowly, dusting off his clothes and scratching at the back of his head, still looking bewildered. “I had no idea that you two knew each other, hyung mentioned he hadn’t worked with you before.”

Chan stays quiet, not sure how much you’re willing to share. Hongjoong must not know about your time with JYPE if he can’t piece together how the two of you could have met.

“Oh- I used to- We trained together back in the day,” you explain sheepishly. “I was with JYPE for a little while and all the trainees knew who Channie-oppa was. That was a long time ago though, I didn’t use the name HALLA back then.”

The five years that you trained at JYPE are more than a little while, but Chan forces himself to bite his tongue at your deliberate understatement. You don’t elaborate further and while it’s obvious that Hongjoong isn’t satisfied with your answer, he’s willing to drop the topic for now. You look relieved when he switches the subject to the song.

The three of you finish recording quickly. It shouldn’t be a surprise, the work so far with Hongjoong has been smooth so adding you to the mix has just made things easier, but Chan knows he’s a perfectionist and it often takes him an almost embarrassing number of takes before he’s satisfied. The only delay comes when Hongjoong decides he wants you to sing some of the backing vocals and resorts to actually getting on his knees and begging. Chan doesn’t go so far, but he can’t help but agree that your voice blends with the song perfectly. Of course, he also just wants to hear you sing.

You relent when Chan quietly voices his agreement and it really shouldn't make Chan feel as smug as it does.

It’s not even early enough for dinner when things are wrapped up. Chan is usually eager to finish a schedule early, but he’s reluctant to leave, taking his time packing up his belongings.

Finally, he doesn’t have a reason to stay any longer so he musters up the courage to ask.

“Do you guys want to go grab some coffee or something to eat?”

You and Hongjoong make eye contact before turning to look at Chan guiltily. His stomach churns for some reason.

“I’m sorry,” you wince. “I actually promised to help Hongjoong-ssi with an ATEEZ song and we need to go over the edits that I made before his meeting with the company later today.”

“Oh,” Chan replies, feeling a little relieved. “Right, no yeah I get it. Hongjoong actually mentioned that earlier, but I forgot. My bad.”

You offer an apologetic smile before turning to the computer, opening up a file.

“I’ll see you guys next time, then,” Chan says, starting to back out of the room.

“Of course! Thank you for your hard work and good job today!” you say brightly. Looking distracted, Hongjoong mumbles an agreement and waves goodbye. Unlike you, he’s not staring at the computer monitor though. Instead, his focus is solely on you. Even from his side profile, Chan can tell that he’s enamoured.

Honestly, Chan can’t really blame him, you look comfortable and confident, swallowed up in an oversized hoodie as you start explaining the alterations that you made to the track. Your voice is calm, but warm and you’re careful to start off by complimenting the work that Hongjoong had done previously.

Chan leaves, resolutely ignoring the twisted feeling that’s back with a vengeance and any thoughts of what the cause might be.

—

Chan can’t sleep. His thoughts are all about you, what you’ve been doing the past few years, what happened to you at JYPE that made you leave, and mostly trying to remember how and why your relationship with him slowly fell apart.

That’s the hardest part. In the darkest time of his life, when Chan had been discouraged and disheartened, you had joined JYPE with a brightness and enthusiasm that gave Chan the motivation to continue being a trainee. He had adored you. He still does.

In those last few months before the survival show had been filmed, Chan’s relationship with you had gone from being everything to nothing. It happened in the blink of an eye, and Chan had never understood what caused you to withdraw so quickly and thoroughly. The two of you had gone from spending almost all of your free time together to you avoiding him at the company, pretending not to hear when he called out your name or tried to get your attention.

The regret of letting you slip away has always eaten away at him, but now more than ever.

Of course, at the time it hadn’t felt so simple. The survival show was Chan’s first serious chance to debut, and not just that, but the weight of having eight other people’s careers depending on his leadership took a toll on all his other relationships. Your absence in his life still hurt, but Chan had lots of practice losing people. He had coped in the way that worked best in the past, throwing himself headlong into producing, training, anything to keep himself from wallowing in his feelings.

Chan doesn’t have any schedules for today, but he still heads to the company. He knows this isn’t the healthiest way to deal with things, but he doesn’t know anything else.

When he arrives, Chan just barely manages to catch a glimpse of a few familiar faces. He calls out before he can think better of it, jogging slightly to catch up. Sana, Momo, and Mina watch curiously as he approaches. He knows that Twice also aren’t in a busy period of the year, so he doesn’t feel guilty delaying them.

“Sorry to bother you all. Sana-noona, I was just wondering if we could chat?”

Sana makes brief eye contact with the rest of the girls before agreeing and waving them to go ahead of her. She follows behind Chan as he leads them into his studio, clearly interested in determining the reason behind this atypical meet up.

“What’s up, Channie?” she asks once the door is closed behind them.

Chan tries to think of the best way to start, not wanting to just outright ask, but not knowing how to subtly steer the conversation into the right direction. Finally, he abandons trying to be casual and just blurts out, “Do you remember Y/n?”

“Of course I do,” Sana says, sounding amused at the sudden mention of you. “You both had reputations for being veteran trainees. I mean, other than Jihyo.”

“I was always surprised that she never debuted,” Chan admits. “I just thought it would happen eventually and I was so shocked to find out that she had left. I didn’t- I don’t understand why she gave up on something she wanted so badly.”

“Give up?” Sana asks, sounding like she’s offended on your behalf. “Why would you say it like that?”

“What do you mean? It was like she was there one day and gone the next, I just assumed that she had enough and quit. Nobody seemed to know anything about it. I never found out why and it’s been kind of killing me.”

“You didn’t hear what happened?”

“What- something happened? To her?” Chan swallows hard, suddenly feeling unwell.

“It- I thought that you of all people would know-”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, but- you never talked to her about it? You knew her better than any of us.”

“Noona, I didn’t know that she was gone until months later. She obviously didn’t want to talk about it to me, I never reached out at first. When I finally did, her number had been changed. What was I supposed to do?”

“I- It’s better if you were to hear it from her. I don’t know the full story and you know how things can be distorted through gossip. And you especially must know how dangerous that can be.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You really have no clue? The two of you were inseparable…”

“Please,” Chan pleads.

“You know how it is in the industry, you were so close, of course there were rumours…”

It suddenly clicks.

“But we were just friends! And the dating ban-”

“Chan, you know nobody actually sticks to those, right?”

“But really, we were never-”

“I believe you,” Sana says, carefully. “But you know that to management that it doesn’t really matter whether or not anything was actually going on. To them it’s all about the optics. A perceived relationship is just as dangerous as an actual one.”

“Management…” Chan repeats, his mind racing. “They never mentioned anything to me though.”

“You never found it suspicious? You two are extremely close and out of the blue she suddenly stops talking to you, then right after the two of you stop hanging out, you’re chosen for the survival show? Someone must have talked to her at some point. Maybe not management, but for sure someone.”

“You think that’s why it took so long for me to debut?” Chan asks, even though he already knows the answer.

“It was a liability,” Sana explains. “To have a dating scandal so early on? Neither of your careers would survive. It’s painful and a terrible part of the industry but it’s true.”

“And.. Why she left, you know about that too?” Chan pleads.

“I think I’ve said too much already. I know that it’s hard, but some things are really personal.” She pauses for a moment. “What brought this on, anyway? You haven’t mentioned Y/nnie in years.”

“I can’t say much, but I- I saw her today, got to talk to her, found out what she’s been up to.” Sana gasps. Chan continues. “It was so weird to see her after so long. In the back of my mind, I had always wondered, but…”

“I’m glad that you two got to reconnect,” Sana says gently. “The two of you cared about each other a lot, that much was obvious. Talk to her, I think at the very least you’ll be able to find peace about what happened.”

“Noona-” Chan reaches out and pulls Sana into a tight hug. “Thank you for telling me. I appreciate it.”

“Of course. I’m sorry that it took so long for you to find out.”

—

A few days later, Hongjoong schedules another session to work on the song. Leading up to it, Chan is both looking forward to it and nervous, not sure what to expect. Although he still really wants to know what happened to you all those years ago, he’s scared about what he might learn and any part he might have had in it.

After a sleepless night, he ends up arriving almost 15 minutes early. This time, Hongjoong isn’t waiting at the building’s entrance. Instead he had let him know a few days before that Chan could just sign himself in and had sent him the name and location of the studio that was booked. When Chan reaches it, he can make out conversation from inside.

“HALLA,” Hongjoong can be heard through the studio doors, which aren’t fully shut. His tone is petulant and much more casual than it was previously. Chan wonders how much time the two of you have spent together between then and now and he almost misses the next thing that Hongjoong says. “You never told me that you were a trainee before.”

That stops Chan in his tracks, interested in how you’ll respond.

“It was a long time ago.” Your voice is faint. You’re still nice, but Chan can tell that your voice is stiffer than usual. “It doesn’t really matter now.”

This time, Hongjoong doesn’t let it go.

“What happened?” he prods.

“Just drop it,” you warn him. “It’s the past, forget I told you in the first place. Nothing ever came of it anyway.”

“Y/n-” Hongjoong changes tactics, the nagging tone replaced with a quieter, more serious one. You sigh.

“It didn’t work out. Obviously. I’m just not idol material.”

“Oh come on, I don’t believe that for a second. Your producing is good enough that I know for sure you’ve been getting offers to work with more companies than just KQ. When you direct during recording, you can hit every note without any warm up or practice. And I’ve heard your original songs, you must have been considered for both the position of lead rapper and lead singer as a trainee because there’s no way that anybody would let your talent go to waste.” Hongjoong is breathing hard by the end of his rant and Chan can see that this is something that has been bothering him for a while.

“It’s okay, Hongjoong-oppa.” Your voice is gentle, like you’re trying to comfort him. “I’m happy with what I have right now. Really. I’m grateful for all the freedom I have. Getting to work on any project I want and experiment with my music without having to deal with the bureaucracy and politics of the industry? Having that independence is precious to me. I wanted to be an idol for a long long time. But even though that specific plan I had didn’t work out, it doesn’t mean I’m not happy with what I’m doing.”

Hongjoong stays quiet for a while.

“Do you think that if you had the opportunity to debut as an idol now, you would?” he finally asks.

“Oppa, it’s not possible. I can’t dance, I’m too old-” you protest.

“No no, just hypothetically. Like if someone walked into the room and handed you a contract and said that if you signed it in an hour then you’d be able to debut.”

“I- I don’t know.”

“What’s your gut feeling?”

“I think I left that dream behind, I don’t know if I want to go down that path again. I don’t think I have it in me.”

“I’m sorry,” Hongjoong says after another pause. “I shouldn’t have questioned you so much, you shouldn’t have to justify your decisions to me.”

“No, it’s fine. It seems strange, right? For me to be an artist in Seoul and not want to get signed, it's only natural for you to be curious. But I learned a lot when I was a trainee and I learned even more after that and I can say with certainty that this is what I want.”

Chan takes that opportunity to knock on the studio door and push it open.

“Hey, hope I’m not interrupting,” he says, as if he wasn’t just eavesdropping on their conversation and purposely chose when to cut in. “Sorry, I’m a little bit late.”

“Hey, no problem man,” Hongjoong says. “We haven’t had a chance to do anything yet, so you’re right on time.”

“Good to see you,” you chime in. “I think this should be pretty quick so let’s get started!”

As you predicted, it doesn’t take long before a majority of the song is finished. Normally, Chan would be keen to stay involved until the very last detail is finalised, but he trusts you and at the end of this day, it’s Hongjoong’s song so he’s happy to give him the final say.

At the end of the session, Chan once again uses the opportunity to try to catch you alone. The two of you are side by side, packing your bags and Chan asks if you have any plans for the rest of the day. You confirm that you're available and Chan is about to suggest that the two of you take the time to catch up when Hongjoong interrupts.

“Oh, Y/n-ah,” he says. “I was actually hoping to get your input on something and I didn’t have a chance to ask you earlier. Can you please stick around for a bit? Sorry, hyung.”

Hongjoong sounds so sincere that Chan almost doesn’t feel annoyed that he’s stealing all of your time and attention. Almost, because at the end of the day, Chan’s only human. Even though he knows he has no right to feel possessive over you, he can’t stop the petty jealousy that bubbles up inside of him. At this point, there’s no denying the emotion.

Just like the previous session, he leaves alone, heading directly to the studio. Hours later, his breath catches when he checks his phone and sees that you’ve texted him.

[Received - 8:04pm]

Channie-oppa~

[Received - 8:04pm]

This is Y/nnie

[Received - 8:05pm]

Sorry about earlier, I have a contract with KQ Entertainment and work comes first :/

[Received - 8:09pm]

But I’m free now! You still interested in catching up?

Chan stares at the messages until it feels like they’re burned into his retinas. Logically, he knew that you had his number, the two of you were in a group chat that Hongjoong had set up, but this was your first time messaging him privately. The first time you had reached out in years. A precious opportunity that he never thought that he would have. He doesn’t want to mess this up.

He’s also shocked to see you texting so casually. Although the two of you have been comfortable in person, he wasn’t sure that it would translate to one-on-one conversation.

[Sent - 8:10pm]

Hey Y/n!

[Sent - 8:11pm]

No worries at all, I understand. I’m the same way too

[Sent - 8:13pm]

I still wanna meet up… but I’m all the way back in Gangdong-gu 😅 It’d be a bit of a trek for you if you're still at KQ

[Received - 8:13pm]

Gangdong-gu?

[Received - 8:14pm]

Ohh JYPE

[Received - 8:14pm]

My bad, forgot that you guys moved

[Sent - 8:15pm]

Yeahhh

[Sent - 8:15pm]

Headed straight back to the company after we were done, sorry

[Received - 8:18pm]

Well… If you’re willing to wait then I don’t mind. KQ is close to a metro station anyway

[Sent - 8:18pm]

Wait, really?

[Sent - 8:18pm]

No no no, don’t take the subway

[Sent - 8:18pm]

I’ll send a driver. They’re gonna pick you up in 20 min

[Received - 8:19pm]

Wowow

[Received - 8:19pm]

Private driver?

[Received - 8:20pm]

You’re a real superstar now haha

[Sent - 8:21pm]

alsfjshkafs noooooooo

[Sent - 8:21pm]

It’s just faster

[Sent - 8:21pm]

and safer

[Received - 8:22pm]

I’m not complaining

[Received - 8:22pm]

but I’m going to get your autograph when I see you

[Received - 8:23pm]

If I sell it then I can probably afford my own private driver 🤭

[Sent - 8:24pm]

Knew it

[Sent - 8:25pm]

You’re just using me for my fame

[Received - 8:26pm]

Ah you got me this time

[Received - 8:26pm]

*Your fame, your talent, and your good looks

[Received - 8:27pm]

Even tho you were the one that said you wanted to meet up

[Received - 8:27pm]

Hmmm maybe you’re the one using me?

Chan listens to his phone as it continues to vibrate from where it’s lodged in between two of the couch cushions after he threw it across to the opposite side of the room. His face is buried in his hands and flaming red. He feels both giddy and terribly embarrassed.

Chan’s no stranger to flirting, he’s experienced his fair share being on either side through interactions with the members and with Stay, but he forgot how flustered he was being on the receiving end of your teasing. The part he never understood is that your playful tone always gave way to sincerity. Even when the two of you would joke around, he could always tell that you meant every comment that you made about Chan being talented or attractive and that flattered him almost as much as it baffled him.

[Received - 8:32pm]

?? Speechless that I caught on?

[Received - 8:36pm]

I think your driver has arrived… Otherwise I’m being kidnapped

[Received - 8:40pm]

Don’t think I would survive a horror film… I got into the car with no questions asked

[Received - 8:42pm]

It was nice knowing you I guess

When he realises how much time has passed, Chan grabs his phone and runs down to the back entrance of the company. Luckily you haven’t arrived yet and he takes the time to reply to your messages.

[Sent - 8:53pm]

Sorry, lost track of time

[Sent - 8:53pm]

They’ll drop you off at the back door, I’ll meet you there so you don’t have to get signed in or anything

[Received - 8:54pm]

Don’t think you’re getting away with ignoring my other texts

[Received - 8:55pm]

But thanks

[Received - 8:55pm]

Is this back door, the famous one that only allows in authorised people?

[Received - 8:55pm]

I’m honoured

Chan rolls his eyes at your cheesy reference and is in the middle of typing up a response when he sees the car pull up. You step out cautiously, then brighten when you see where Chan’s propping up the door.

“Hey,” Chan greets you. “Glad that you made it safely.”

“Thanks for the ride,” you say, looking around curiously as Chan leads you to an elevator that takes you to the rest of the building. “So this is the new and improved JYP Entertainment. I’d say that it looks the same as before, but I never got the chance to come in.”

“Yeah,” Chan says, rubbing a hand against the back of his neck as he walks. “I mean it’s pretty nice, but at the end of the day a practice room is a practice room and that’s where we spend most of our time.”

“Hmm I think we might have to agree to disagree on that one. You have your own studio don’t you?”

“Ah, kind of. It’s technically a shared one, but practically I’m the only one that uses it unless we’re out of the country for a long time,” Chan confirms.

“Seems a lot better than what we used to have! Do you remember when we used to cram ourselves into that tiny room that barely even fit two chairs and a table?”

“I almost forgot about that, it was so terrible! In the summer it would get so hot that we’d keep the door open-”

“And then someone would come yell at us because we’d be playing music too loud-”

“I remember begging management to install a portable air conditioner on multiple occasions, but they always refused.”

“Of course! Even if they weren’t so stingy, there weren’t any windows leading outside in there, how could they install it?”

“Is that why? I always thought they just wanted us to suffer.”

“That too,” you giggle for a moment, before your smile fades. “But they weren’t totally unreasonable. Management has a different perspective than us, sometimes they know better than us because of their understanding of the industry. They can see things that we don’t.”

It’s clear that you’re no longer talking about air conditioning anymore. A lump seems to have formed in Chan’s throat when he recalls his conversation with Sana. Luckily, the two of you have just arrived and Chan forces himself to smile.

“We’re here,” he says, opening the door and motioning for you to enter ahead of him. “Welcome to Channie’s Room!”

“It’s cute!” you say as you step in. “Very… neat. It’s actually more spacious than it looks.”

“Oh,” Chan says, faltering in his steps for a second. “You- you’ve seen my studio?”

“In case you didn’t realise, you go live every week from said studio. I think at this point everyone in the K-pop industry and every K-pop fan has seen it,” you tease.

“Right, yeah. I didn’t- I wasn’t sure how much you kept up with that kind of stuff,” Chan stammers.

“K-pop or do you mean specifically Stray Kids?” you ask, tilting your head slightly.

“Either I guess," Chan shrugs.

"I will admit that it took me a while to get back into it," you say slowly. "I wasn't... in the best mindset after I left." Chan stays quiet, sensing that you're not quite finished. "I know that I disappeared and I am sorry for not reaching out. I wanted to, but I also didn't know how. I know that I hurt you. That it was cruel to avoid you, not reply to your messages, ignore your calls. I had my reasons why, but it doesn't excuse the pain that I caused, and I'm sorry for that too."

“I think,” Chan swallows hard. “I think that the most difficult part was that for the longest time, I didn’t know why. I didn’t know what I did wrong. I asked Sana about it finally, after I saw you again. And I just felt so stupid to realise that it was obvious to everyone except me."

“I’m sorry,” you say again. “I wanted to tell you, of course I wanted to. But I also knew you. If I had told you that us being together was preventing your debut-”

“I wouldn’t have cared,” Chan finishes your sentence for you, starting to understand. “I would have done anything to keep you by my side.”

"Even if it meant throwing away your career," you say softly. "I couldn't let you do that to yourself. You worked so hard, how could I live with being the reason that you were stuck in the training rooms? You belong on stage, making music.”

"The part that I still don’t get though is why you left? You should have been able to debut as well, I know it."

“Ah,” you say wistfully. You look around and grab onto the pillow that���s on the couch beside you, fidgeting with it as you figure out what to say next. “You know, I actually was supposed to debut.”

“What? How come I never heard about it?” Chan feels a pang in his chest. All these years ago, the two of you had promised that the other would be the first person that they would tell if they ever found out that they had the chance to debut. It seemed that neither of them had kept their promise.

“It was supposed to be a secret project. JYP wanted to see how successful a surprise debut announcement would be. You should have seen the NDAs that they made us sign.” You shake your head, letting out a huff of air. “It turned out to be a good decision because it meant they could cancel it without anyone knowing that we existed in the first place.”

"Who was in the group?" Chan asks.

"There were five of us. I think you know all of them, Sumin, Ryujin, Sojin, and Hyowon," you list. You're right, Chan is either familiar with or has heard of all the girls that you mention. It doesn't make sense though, the group was filled with talented individuals and Chan can't think of any reason strong enough to lead to disbandment. Even more baffling is that of the five of you, only Ryujin ended up staying at the company long enough to join the lineup for another group.

"And they just cancelled it out of nowhere?"

“No... It was- I know that for any idol, preparing for debut is tough, but I think that in some ways, it’s especially brutal for the girl groups," you say instead. Chan doesn't question you further, knowing that you must have a point that you're trying to make.

“How so?” Chan has an idea, he’s seen what the female trainees went through, the differences in how they were evaluated and criticised. But he wants to hear it from you, wants to understand what you’ve been through.

“The visual aspect feels like it’s more heavily emphasised than our talent or skills. We were measured for our music video outfits the second they finalised the concept. It was really early on, but at the time I thought it was so exciting and fun that I didn’t question it. I think that all of us were so thrilled by the thought of debuting that we didn't think anything of it. We did our final fittings for it a few weeks before filming and they had made them all a size too small, everything was just a little bit too tight. They didn’t outright say it, but it was implied that they weren’t going to alter them. It was a choice to lose weight or our chance to debut was gone. We were devastated and angry and eventually just resigned. If that's what it took then I would do it. We dieted like crazy for the time leading up to filming,” you laugh, but it's in disbelief, the sound is hollow.

Paired with what you’re saying, it makes Chan want to burn the whole world down. He doesn't say anything, not sure if he can even open his mouth without letting his rage escape, something that you don't deserve.

“We were practising, like always," you continue. "There was a tricky step that needed to be fixed by the next day when we’d be recording, a flip that we hadn't quite mastered. I was the smallest one on the team, so I was the one being flipped. It must have been like 3 or 4 in the morning, we were all tired, hungry, and nervous about filming. Honestly, I don't quite remember what happened, it was all a blur. There was just this feeling that something went wrong and then pain."

You roll up the pants on your left leg and show off the skin there. Chan has to hold back a gasp at the sight. Even though it’s long healed, the scarring is extensive and obvious. Chan can't imagine how much it must have hurt.

“I broke my ankle in two places and sprained my wrist. I couldn't believe it, five years of my life just gone in an instant. It took months before I could walk and even longer before I could dance again. Even now, I can't dance anywhere close to the way that I used to," you say with a watery smile. “Sojinnie had a concussion from the fall and Suminnie dislocated her shoulder, I must have knocked into them or fallen onto them or something. What could we do? Three out of the five of us were out of commission, there was no time and no budget for a group that hadn’t even debuted to find replacements or re-record and re-film everything. I woke up after surgery and they told me that they were sorry, but my contract with the company was over. That someone had helped me pack up all my things in the dorm. I went back to Jeju-do as soon as I was released from the hospital.”

"I- I'm sorry that I didn't know," Chan says, clearing his throat roughly when his voice breaks partway through the sentence. " I wish that I could have been there, to help or comfort you. I should have-"

"Oppa," you respond gently. "It's okay. I didn't tell anybody what happened and the company also kept things quiet. I'm glad you didn't find out at the time. You had other, more important things to focus on, I didn't want to distract you from that."

"You're not a distraction," Chan says incredulously. "You're important to me, I would have dropped everything to be with you in such a difficult time."

"And that's exactly why I couldn't tell you. You've always been too good to me, Channie-oppa," you sniffle. "Look at you now! I'm so always proud when I think of how far you've come."

Chan lifts a trembling hand and carefully cups your face, using his thumb to wipe away a tear that has started making its way down your cheek. He hears your breathing hitch, but you don't object to his touch. If anything, you melt into it.

Chan takes the opportunity to wrap his arms around you, bringing you close. The gesture breaks the dam of tears that you must have been holding back. Chan rocks the two of you back and forth gently, just letting you cry and trying to surreptitiously wipe away his own tears. It takes a few minutes before you calm, taking huge shuddering breaths that break Chan's heart almost as much as your sobs had.

"I'm sorry," you say with a voice thick with emotion.

"Hey, no," Chan reassures you. "There's no need to apologise. Are you feeling better now?"

You nod slowly, head still pressed against Chan's chest.

"I think- I think I just missed you. I always thought it would get easier, not having you in my life, but it never did."

At your words, Chan can't help his arms from tightening, squeezing you close.

"I finally found you again," he says. "And this time, I promise that I won't ever let you go."

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