#wanted to show at least a little more personality in them

[reiding-writing]

i need a part where cold!reader shows the team that she has some empathy and some “love” for them and spencer being like “see, i told you she’s not that bad and she cares about you guys” 🫶🏻

LOVE LANGUAGES — BAU TEAM!

you show your love for your team members in specifically unique ways.

bau team & cold!reader | 2.9k | fluff | cold!reader masterlist.

main masterlist.

a/n — did this request slightly differently, hope it holds up okay <3

Your carefully crafted distance from the team has always been intentional. You don’t do vulnerability. You don’t do sentimental. But lately, there have been… cracks. Small ones, barely noticeable—except to Spencer, apparently, who won’t stop grinning every time you let one slip.

── EMILY PRENTISS

Emily looks at you with barely concealed surprise, her lips slightly parted as she registers what you just said.

“You’ll—wait, you’ll cat-sit Sergio?”

You roll your eyes and cross your arms, feigning nonchalance. “Don’t make a big deal out of it. I like cats.”

Emily scoffs, still clearly thrown off by the unexpected offer. “Uh-huh. Since when?”

You shrug, already regretting saying anything. “Since always.”

It’s a lie, at least partially. You don’t dislike cats, but that’s not why you offered. You overheard Emily talking about her sudden trip to London—something about an Interpol meeting, something she hadn’t planned for.

You’d also noticed the tension in her shoulders, the way she chewed her lip when she thought no one was looking.

She was stressed. And leaving Sergio behind clearly wasn’t helping.

You weren’t about to say any of that out loud, though.

Emily narrows her eyes at you, suspicious but amused. “You, the same person who groaned when I showed you pictures of him last week?”

“You were shoving them in my face,” you argue flatly. “Besides, I didn’t say I wanted to see cat pictures. I said I’d watch the cat. Big difference.”

She studies you for a long moment, then a slow smirk tugs at the corner of her lips. “Right. Well, thanks. I guess I owe you one,”

You shake your head. “Don’t get all sentimental. Just leave the food out and don’t expect updates.”

── DEREK MORGAN

The gun feels solid in your grip, familiar. The scent of gunpowder lingers in the air, mixing with the low hum of fluorescent lights overhead. You take a deep breath, steady your aim, and squeeze the trigger.

The shot lands, but not where you want it to.

You exhale sharply, lowering your weapon. It’s fine. It’s still a hit. But you don’t do "fine"—not in the field, and not here.

A deep chuckle comes from behind you. “You’re pulling to the right,”

You turn your head slightly, levelling an unimpressed look at Morgan, who’s leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed, watching you like he’s been there for a while.

“I know,” you grumble, flicking the safety on and setting your gun down.

Morgan smirks. “Do you?”

You grit your teeth, already regretting what you’re about to say. But you didn’t come down here for nothing, and you sure as hell didn’t come down here to keep missing your mark.

So, with great reluctance, you inhale and say, “What am I doing wrong?”

Morgan blinks. You don’t think you’ve ever actually asked him for advice before—not like this. Sure, you’ve worked cases together, listened to his strategies, but asking him for genuine help? Yeah, no. That’s new.

He doesn’t gloat, though. Doesn’t tease. Instead, he pushes off the wall and steps closer, his expression shifting into something more focused. “Your stance is solid, but your grip’s a little too tight. You’re overcompensating—tensing up before the shot,”

You sigh, shifting your grip slightly. “That’s it?”

Morgan chuckles, shaking his head. “That’s not it. But it’s a start,”

He moves to stand beside you, his voice lowering into something instructional. “Try relaxing your shoulders a little. Let the gun do some of the work instead of fighting against it,”

You roll your eyes but do as he says, adjusting your posture. You take another shot. This time, it’s closer to where you want it.

“Huh,” you say begrudgingly.

Morgan grins. “See? I know what I’m talking about,”

You huff, setting the gun down again. “Don’t get used to this.”

He laughs. “Oh, trust me, I won’t hold my breath,”

As you pack up, Morgan gives you a look—not smug, not teasing. Just… knowing. Like he sees right through you.

You scowl. “What?”

“Nothing,” he says, still grinning. “Just nice to see you’re capable of human emotion,”

You roll your eyes and walk out without another word.

── PENELOPE GARCIA

You don’t know why you let yourself get talked into this.

Actually, that’s a lie—you know exactly why. Garcia had been raving about some new "life-changing" snack all week, shoving it in everyone’s faces until they gave in and tried it.

You’d been dodging her persistence, fully prepared to hold out indefinitely, but then Spencer had given you that look. The one that practically screamed “Come on, you know you care,”

So, you ate the damn snack.

And you hated it.

Which is why you now find yourself marching towards Garcia’s office with the half-eaten package in hand, scowling.

When you step inside, she’s at her desk, surrounded by multiple screens filled with whatever classified magic she’s working on. She turns at the sound of the door, eyes lighting up when she sees you.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t my favorite emotionally constipated agent,” she sing-songs. Then she sees what’s in your hand and gasps. “Oh my God. Did you actually try it?”

You sigh and hold up the package. “Here. Take it. I hate it.”

Garcia doesn’t even pretend to be offended. She snatches it from your grasp with a delighted squeal. “You tried it!”

You cross your arms. “It was awful.”

She ignores your suffering entirely, beaming at you like you just did something miraculous. “But you tried it!”

“Under duress.”

“Doesn’t matter!” She’s grinning so wide it’s almost blinding. “You never do stuff like this! Oh, I’m so proud of you,”

You groan. “Garcia—“

“No, no, let me have this moment,” she interrupts, clutching the snack to her chest dramatically. “You trying something I recommended is like… a solar eclipse. Rare. Stunning. Possibly signalling the end of times,”

You roll your eyes, but something about her excitement makes it hard to be truly annoyed.

You’d never admit it, but you don’t actually mind seeing her this happy—especially knowing you had something to do with it.

── AARON HOTCHNER

The bullpen is quiet, most of the team having gone home for the night. The only sounds are the steady clicking of a keyboard and the occasional rustle of paper.

Hotch sits at his desk, brow furrowed in concentration, his desk lamp casting a dull glow over an intimidating stack of paperwork.

You could leave. Should leave. You don’t owe him anything.

And yet…

You sigh, stepping closer. “How much of that do you actually need to finish tonight?”

Hotch barely looks up. “All of it.”

You glance at the pile, then at him. He looks tired—not that it’s unusual, but tonight, the exhaustion sits deeper in his expression. You know for a fact that Jack is waiting for him at home.

You also know that if you walk away, Hotch will stay here until everything is done, no matter how late it gets.

You roll your eyes at yourself before speaking. “Give me half.”

That actually gets his attention. He pauses, fingers hovering over the keyboard as he looks at you with quiet surprise. “You want to help with paperwork?”

You scoff, grabbing a chair and pulling it up to his desk before you can change your mind. “Want is a strong word.”

Hotch watches you for a moment, probably trying to figure out what your angle is.

“You don’t have to—“

“I know,” you cut him off, already pulling a file toward you. “Just… home is boring. Might as well do something useful.”

It’s a terrible excuse, and by the look on Hotch’s face, he knows it. But to his credit, he doesn’t call you on it. Instead, he gives a small nod—one that almost looks approving—and hands you a pen.

The two of you work in silence, save for the scratching of pens against paper and the occasional click of a stapler. It’s oddly… peaceful.

Half an hour later, the stack is significantly smaller, and Hotch checks his watch before exhaling.

“You should go home,” you say before he can. “Jack’s waiting.”

He studies you for a long moment, something unreadable in his gaze. Then, he nods. “Thank you.”

You wave a hand dismissively, already looking at the next file. “Just go before I change my mind.”

Hotch smiles—genuinely smiles—before gathering his things. As he heads for the door, he stops just long enough to say, “Good night.”

You don’t look up. “Yeah, yeah. Go be a dad, Hotch.”

He leaves, and the room falls silent again.

── JENNIFER JAREAU

You’re not even sure why you remember.

It’s not like JJ ever made a big deal out of it. She’d mentioned it once in passing—Henry’s birthday, some little party she was planning.

You weren’t even paying that much attention at the time, but the date must’ve stuck somewhere in the back of your mind.

And now, here you are, standing in the store, staring at a wall of toys like an idiot.

You don’t know what kids like. You don’t do kids.

But after several agonising minutes and an internal debate that makes profiling serial killers seem easy, you finally settle on a small toy car set. It seems safe enough—not too flashy, not too complicated. Just… something.

The next morning, you leave it on JJ’s desk before she gets in. No note, no name. Just the box, wrapped neatly in plain paper with Henry’s name on it.

You don’t need the awkward thank-you’s. You don’t need the attention. You just…

You don’t know why you did it, really.

Maybe because Henry is part of JJ’s world, and—whether you want to admit it or not—JJ is part of yours.

You’re at your desk when JJ arrives, coffee in hand, looking exhausted as usual. You don’t watch her directly, but you see out of the corner of your eye as she stops short, eyes landing on the package.

She picks it up, frowning in confusion. Eyes the brown paper cautiously. And then—

“Oh.” Her voice is quiet, surprised.

You keep your eyes on your screen, pretending not to notice. Pretending it’s nothing.

Then—

“Who—?” JJ turns, scanning the room. You immediately busy yourself with a file, but you can feel her looking at you.

You don’t react. Don’t acknowledge it.

And because she’s a good profiler, because she knows, JJ just smiles to herself and doesn’t say a word.

But before she sits down, she murmurs, just loud enough for you to hear:

“Thank you,”

And that’s the end of it. No big deal. No fuss.

── DAVID ROSSI

“You can stop hovering by the door,” Rossi says without looking up, expertly mincing garlic at the counter. “You’re already here. Might as well commit,”

You scowl but step further inside, arms crossed. “I don’t know why I let myself get talked into this.”

“Because deep, deep down, you secretly like us,” he says, smirking. “And because you lost a bet to Garcia,”

You grunt, leaning against the counter. “I hate her.”

“You don’t.” Rossi gestures toward the cutting board. “Hand me the basil,”

You stare at him. “Do I look like an assistant?”

“You look like someone who’s standing in my kitchen doing nothing. Basil. Wash your hands first,”

With a dramatic sigh, you rinse off your hands in the sink, grab the basil, and hand it over.

He hums in approval as he starts chopping. “Fresh ingredients make all the difference. Jarred stuff works in a pinch, but a real sauce? Needs fresh garlic, fresh basil, quality tomatoes,”

You raise a brow. “You take this very seriously.”

“As seriously as you take keeping people at a distance,”

Your expression twitches, but before you can fire back, he nods toward the stove. “Grab the wooden spoon. Stir the sauce,”

You narrow your eyes. “Are you—are you putting me to work right now?”

“You’re in my kitchen, you follow my rules,” He smirks again. “Unless you’d rather sit with Spencer and Garcia in the living room,”

You scoff but pick up the spoon, giving the sauce a slow stir. The aroma fills the kitchen—tomatoes, garlic, a hint of red wine. You hate to admit it, but it smells… good.

Rossi watches you for a moment, then chuckles. “You know, most people would just eat the food. Not ask about how it’s made,”

You freeze for half a second before scoffing again. “I was not asking about it.”

He doesn’t look convinced. “Mmm. Sure,”

You keep stirring, refusing to rise to the bait. But you are paying attention—watching how he measures ingredients by instinct rather than precision, how he tastes the sauce directly from the spoon with no hesitation, how he hums in satisfaction when it’s just right.

It’s weirdly… fascinating.

By the time dinner is ready, you’ve somehow helped chop parsley and even grated some fresh parmesan. You tell yourself it was just to make things move faster—not because you enjoyed it.

Not because it felt oddly nice.

Later, after everyone eats and you’re lingering by the door, getting ready to leave, Rossi claps a hand on your shoulder.

“Not bad,” he says. “For a first-time sous-chef,”

You scoff. “This was a one-time thing, Rossi.”

“We’ll see,” His smirk is knowing. “Next time, maybe you’ll even roll the pasta,”

You roll your eyes and walk out.

── SPENCER REID

It starts with the coffee.

You always get to the office early—partly because you hate the idea of rushing, partly because mornings are quiet and no one expects much conversation from you before eight a.m.

Spencer is always there early, too. Whether it’s reading, reviewing files, or just avoiding traffic, you’re not sure. But without fail, when you step into the breakroom each morning, he’s already at the table, book in hand, eyes barely open like he’s just rolled out of bed.

So, one morning, you make a pitstop. Well, not really. You stop by the same coffee shop every day. But this time, you leave with two drinks instead of one.

You don’t say anything when you set his down next to him. You just place it there and take your own cup to your desk, acting as if nothing happened.

The next morning, you do it again.

And the next.

Spencer never comments on it. But one day, when you slide the cup next to his book, he just smiles softly and says, “Thank you.”

You don’t answer. You just take a sip of your own coffee, pretending like it’s nothing. But it isn’t nothing.

Then, there’s the jet.

Long flights, late nights, exhausted bodies slumped in seats. The team passes the time in their own ways—Morgan with his headphones, JJ and Emily whispering about their latest gossip, Rossi dozing off before the plane even takes off.

And then there’s you and Spencer.

You don’t remember when it started, but at some point, you ended up in the seats across from each other, both reading in silence.

Sometimes, it’s your pick. Sometimes, it’s his. He has a habit of finishing first and noting down important page numbers for you to focus on. You roll your eyes but take it anyway.

There’s no need for small talk. No need for explanation.

You just exist together, turning pages in the quiet hum of the plane.

One night, after a particularly grueling case, you’re back in the office late, finishing up reports. Most of the team has gone home, but Spencer is still at his desk, scribbling notes with his usual intensity.

You watch him for a moment before you speak.

“You should go home, Reid.”

He glances up, blinking at you. “So should you,”

You scoff but say nothing.

Spencer tilts his head slightly, studying you the way only he can. The way that tells you he already knows what you won’t say.

He smiles—small, but warm.

“You like spending time with me,”

It’s less of an accusation than it is an observation. Like pointing out when you see a bird in a park.

You don’t roll your eyes. Don’t scoff or deflect or throw something at him like you do when he’s being particularly smug.

Because, for once, you don’t feel like pretending.

So instead, you just take a sip of your coffee, glance back at your report, and say,

“Yeah. I do.”

[mysoulspiralbound]

This is great because it's only embarrassingly too much popcorn to Danny. To everyone else, they just summoned an eldritch god in the middle of a fight and he showed up with popcorn. Just floating in the middle of the room, surveying the chaos but saying nothing. And then he throws a handful into his mouth and the cultists are like "should we resume the fight? If this is a show to him we should make this a good one, right?" Meanwhile the JL is kind of half panicked half reassured by the fact that this ghost/demon/god/thing is at the very least only watching, not interfering. Probably still bad that human suffering comes with popcorn, but it's still possible he'll be satisfied when the fight is done?

So the cultists kind of awkwardly resume swinging and the heroes obviously go back to stopping them. Danny can't really leave so... I guess he's just finishing the popcorn until these guys decide who gets to talk to him. Kind of rude to summon him before they're ready and all that, but he's just a little too tired to care and it is kind of cool to be watching a bunch of superheroes and aliens in person. It's probably better than the movie would have been even if he's still mad at the timing.

Danny absolutely is playing favorite though, so when someone jumps at GL from behind he calls out a warning, and when someone manages to land a hit on he thinks it might he Robin? he throws a handful of popcorn at the guy and yells at them to pick on someone their own size.

Good news, Ghost King who brought popcorn to their fight seems to be supporting the heroes. Bad news, the cult isn't really happy about this, and are now trying to win him over with promises of gold, riches, offerings, etc. Good news! Danny does not want offerings. Bad news, he's figured out the cultists are the ones who made the circle, so he's trapped till they strike a deal or the spell wears off.

Eventually the fight's over and the bad guys are all tied up and now the JL is trying to do diplomacy well enough to get this guy to leave peacefully. Danny explains he can only talk to the guy who led the spell, gesturing to someone in the pile of defeated bad guys, but he won't cause any problems if they just break the circle so he can get back home pretty please. They're hesitant because ya know, safety reasons, and ask some questions like, "who are you?" and "what are your thoughts on gladiatorial combat?" and "can we trust you to not start killing people?"

Danny answers honestly, though not detailed, with a type of ghost, ew no, and uhh yeah? which doesn't really help the league. When he realizes they thought the popcorn thing was like, flippant and a godly show of power, he quietly admits he was actually kind of going to see a movie with his living friends. He even made space in his stupid kingly calendar so he'd really like to at least see (he checks his phantom form "ghost powers proof phone) the last five minutes maybe?

At the mention of living friends and a popular current movie title (idk something about half the league has heard about) they realize that King or no, this is still a kid. None of them want to think about how old he must have been when he died. He looks young. Clark rummages through his pockets and finds enough cash for new tickets, more than just one. Clark offers it to the kid, assuming he might not have human money on hand. Danny laughs because Sam actually covered all three of them, and he has to explain that ghost or no if he wants a reserved seat, he needs to actually pay for it. And sure he can occupy someone else's seat but it's super uncomfortable and gross to overlap someone like that. Danny still has half a tub of popcorn though (it was absolutely too much) so he offers to trade it.

Danny offers mostly because the speedsters have been eyeing it, but seeing a maybe 12 year old? try to buy his freedom with a half finished bucket of popcorn kind of breaks down any resolve they have to keep him trapped, even for their own safety. They ask a few more questions, but the kid clearly doesn't want to hurt anyone, and while he describes the fight as "cool as fuck, i mean heck, Mr. Superman" he also freaks out at the implication he might make more ghosts on purpose for the sake of increasing his kingdom.

"Why would I want to do that? I have enough people to be responsible for and even if I didn't, everyone's gotta cross over at some point. Death sucks, I should know, I died. The powers of cool but hot dogs trying to eat you back and ghost hunters trying to kill you is so not worth it. Plus it hurt a fu- heck-ton."

So good news again is that this kid is clearly not a threat, and finally someone's scratched the circle out for him. And he got paid! Not the worst summons he's ever been to, only really loses points for timing. On the other hand the JL just realized the King of Ghosts apparently has a ghost hunter problem, and to make matters worse, he's corrected his own swearing like twice and is meeting up with friends at the movies. This is clearly still a kid mentally, not just physically, no matter how long he's been dead. Hooray for new case files.

So Danny got summoned by a cult the JL failed to stop. Problem, he's a little too hungry to care

I had 2 ideas for this so you can choose which one you want.

Danny had forgotten to eat for like 24 hours when doing ghost king shit, so when he finally got some food and felt himself being pulled into a summoning he decided that whoever it was could deal with him eating, so he grabbed his plate and kept eating. To say the cult and JL were expecting to see a massive eldritch king of ghosts and space sitting cross-legged like a teenager and eating (insert the most random food you wouldn't expect a regal king to eat) would be a lie.

Danny, with food in his mouth: You're the ones who summoned me while I was in the middle of eating, so you get to deal with it.

OR

Danny had forgotten he needed food, again, but just as he was about to sit down to start eating he suddenly got summoned by some random cult. So now he's standing in the middle of a summoning circle that's surrounded by cultists and heroes, but he doesn't care, he's now just disappointed in the world and a little sad.

Danny, looking an ancient god and king of space and terror, in the most pathetic and sad voice: My dino nuggies D:

[colorlessjay]

Oh my Jack, I’m obsessed with your BTTF AU.

I know it might not quite fit into your AU but I’ve been giggling to myself about the potential hilarious misunderstandings. My fav being s6 Dean attempts to put together all the little clues Cas has dropped about his husband but like comically wrong (plugged-all-the-numbers-into-the-right-formula-and-somehow-got-the-wrong-answer wrong)

Dean in the guest bedroom with sticky notes and red string: ok so he wears flannels and he has an Impala that looks suspiciously like baby and cas mentioned he had hair longer than mine and that he was a hunter and Sam and I knew him and they were friends for a while before anything romantic happened, and I’m clearly not hanging out with cas as much …

Dean (having a panic attack): son of a bitch I know who cas is married to!

Dean (mopey and despondent and slightly horrified the next day and definitely not with puffy eyes): Cas, I, I have to know, your husband, it’s not *gulp*

Cas (visibly worried he’s given too much away and s6 dean is still so repressed that the bi realization is throwing him into despair)

Dean whispering (trying not to vomit): Sam?

Cas (too stunned to hold back his reaction): *hysterical laughter* oh, no, dean! I’m not married to sam.

Dean (nearly passing out from relief): thank god!

Cas (under his breath): this is why my dean asked me to love him anyways when his past self asked an incredibly stupid question

Honestly I fucking love that so much, I think I have a way to shoe horn that into the AU

kinda like this:

It's been two days

It's been two days stuck in the future, and Dean feels frustration bubbling up in him as his brain tries to puzzle piece everything together

It doesn't help that Cas won't tell him shit

Best friend my ass!

Okay, maybe he's being a bit of an asshole saying that. Cas- This Cas has been nothing but a great host. He always has food in the fridge, he has extra clothes he lets Dean borrow, he doesn't get all up in Dean's personal space like his Castiel does

But at the same time, Cas keeps giving him these looks, like he knows something Dean doesn't

which sure, yeah, he knows a whole hell of a lotta things. It's the future. But Cas us smug about it. At least it feels like he's smug about it. It doesn't help that Cas is out of his holy tax accountant get up and dresses like a regular John. Least his taste in band shirts has improved thanks to his husband

Husband

yeah, that still causes a record scratch in Dean's brain every time he thinks about it

And he's got no problems with it! Love is love and all that. Who Cas wants to take home and put a ring on is his own business. It's not like Cas is a guy, he's an angel. A beam of holy light or whatever. So technically, he's not gay (Not that Dean would have a problem with that!). But it does make his husband some kind of monsterfucker

which is also totally fine. Cas is a catch. Good for both of them

So why doesn't Cas say who his husband is?

Is he scared Dean would judge him? Well fuck him for that! Dean's not a homophobe! And Cas is his best friend! He'd be supportive of him and his monsterfucker husband! Rainbow streamers with Cthulhu and all!

Unless Cas is more worried about Dean's reaction to who he's married to...

which is dumb. From what little Cas told him about Mr. Mystery (Cas refuses to tell him his last name), he wears a shit ton of plaid flannels, he cooks a lot with Cas, likes to read (a guess he got from the 'shared library' Cas showed him), is pretty handy around the house, has long stupid hair and loves his dog Miracle...

Holy shit

Dean was on his feet before he even knew what he was doing. He practically kicks down the guest room door and runs around the house looking for that damn Angel/half angel/not angel

He finds Cas in the backyard with Miracle, playing fetch on the wide stretch of land he owns

Cas looks all too comfortable in his loose, light washed jeans and Metallica shirt, his hair wind swept, probably from running around with Miracle while Dean took a nap.

Cas spots Dean approaching and waves at him with a smile, only to drop both as he sees Dean's determined march

Dean can't blame him. He has no idea what he looks like right not but he knows what he feels

like he's gonna explode

"Dean-" Cas starts but never gets to finish as Dean grabs the future version of his best friend by his shoulders and holds him still, grounding himself as he speaks

"Did you marry Sam?"

The question hung in the nice summer air for around two, three beats. Miracle even pausing where she sat with a stick in her mouth, her little head tilted to the side

Cas' usual stoic face breaks into surprise and Dean holds his breath

Only for Cas, Angel of the Lord, to burst out into an explosive laughter that rocks Dean's entire being

Suddenly Dean has no idea how to react, because Cas is... he's got the biggest, gummiest, most hysterical laugh he's ever seen. It completely transforms his face that Dean is questioning if he's still taking nap, and this was all just some weird dream where he thinks Cas is almost...

cute

Get it together, Winchester!

By the time Dean shakes away his shock, Cas is already on the ground, on his back, clutching his sides as he laughs into the sky like Dean just told the joke of the century

"Hey!" Dean snaps, his face feeling warm for reasons he doesn't have time to think about. "Answer the damn question!"

"No! Hahaha!" Cas says in between laughs, Miracle coming to his side to paw and bark at her owner

"Why the fuck not???"

"No I mean-" Cas takes a deep breath and wheezes, coughing into his fist as he tries to get himself together

Dean grumbles impatiently, popping a squat just to poke at Cas' arm to get him to answer

Eventually Cas' laughter does die down and Dean finds himself staring at just the biggest, smuggest grin he's ever seen on Cas

"I mean no, I did not marry Sam. And I believe he his reaction to you saying that would be much funnier than you asking me" Cas, for the love of God, giggles.

And it shouldn't be cute. Cas is an old man and he's giggling and Dean shouldn't feel... whatever the fuck it is he's feeling right now that's not frustration

But oddly enough he's not frustrated at all

he's relived

Is it because Sam's not gay or because Cas didn't go barking up his brother?

Why does that matter? It shouldn't. Stop thinking about it

"Dean" Cas starts, his laughing having died off and his smile softer as he stares up at Dean "Why do you ask?"

There's... there's a tone to Cas' question that Dean doesn't like. So, he does the one thing he's good at

He pushes himself up and shakes back into himself

"Well you weren't telling me jack, so I thought I'd throw in wild guesses and hope I predict something" A cool lie slip out but even he can tell Cas doesn't buy it

Damn it. Those eyes always seemed to see through him

Cas doesn't call him on his bullshit, but he knows. Dean knows he knows and it bothers him further

"Yes well. Perhaps if you keep guessing, the truth will come out eventually"

"yeah... eventually"

------------

Anyways. Drabble done. Doot doot

[oraltraditionfiction]

Us | QH43

Quinn Hughes x f! reader (angst)

Summary: Snippets of you and Quinn's secret relationship, and the aftermath.

Warnings: angst, hurt with no comfort, ambiguous ending, sad Quinn, anxious reader etc

WC: 1.8k

Author's Note: !!! This is fully inspired by us by Gracie Abrams (which has been on repeat for like. 4 days now. absolute banger.) This is pretty angsty 😭 I apologize in advance I think I was just really in the mood for some pain.

This has an ambiguous ending (for the most part) but I do have an idea for a part 2 if anyone is interested! Anyways, enjoy! - 🐇

(I'd also like to note that the italicized poetry is taken from Crush by Richard Siken, and Leaping Poetry by Robert Bly!)

I know your ghost, I see her through the smoke, She'll play her show

And you'll be watchin'

He caught himself watching you again. It had been habit for so long now. Checking on her from the corner of his eye. He had learned to act in such a way that it was hard to tell he was stealing a glance at her. Her. He needed to snap out of it. 

He looked straight ahead, steadfast in his resolution to break old patterns. He could hear her from the end of the hall. She was briefing one of his teammates on the video they were about to film.

“I know this is hard but please try not to swear, at least not too much. The timbre of her laugh, echoing down the hall. Quinn  knew without looking at her that she was checking her phone. Her disorganized notes app, full of spare ideas for videos and poems that came to her during the twilight hours. “Oh! I know this is obvious but, try not to talk about anything personal that you or a teammate wouldn’t want 400 teenagers online to know.”  He watched from lowered lids as she brushed past him, a slight hesitation in her steps as her shoulder brushed against him. “That stuff’s just hard to edit out-“ her voice trailed off as they turned a corner. The reverb of her warm murmur echoing back to him, taunting him. He just knew she was reminding Brock not to talk about anything personal because of him. 

He scuffed his covered skate against the worn floor. Tilting his head back against the wall. He closed his eyes, and imagined that he was waiting for her to walk with him, instead of someone else.

Wonder if you regret the secret

Of us, us

He could remember the first wrong turn.

“What do you mean you don’t want to tell anyone?” He had asked, confused, thumb stroking against her pulse point soothingly as she cradled his face. 

“Quinn…” she had sighed, suddenly looking so small and vulnerable sitting on her old patterned couch. He kissed her palm, a small comfort.

“I mean, you’ve seen the weird shit people can comment about the wags.” He nodded. “Imagine just seeing that all day. All that negativity. And it’s just your job to navigate that and delete it. I’ve seen awful things about some of these women.” She swallowed, slipping her hand away from his cheek. He missed the warmth immediately, absently leaning into her orbit to make up for it. “I just,.. I don’t know what I would do. Knowing that people were saying those things about me.”

Quinn understood. Honestly the thought of seeing those kinds of things said about her…

Yeah. He could keep a secret for a few more months.

“Sure, sweetheart,” Quinn said, folding her into his arms. “We can keep it quiet for a little bit longer. Just until you’re comfortable.” He could feel her melt into him, relaxing at his agreement. Once she was more comfortable with the idea of them, he thought she wouldn’t mind what people would say.

It felt like what I've known

You're twenty-nine years old

So how can you be cold when I open my home?

Quinn  placed the last box on the bedroom floor, lovingly labeled “poetry <3”. As he gingerly cut through the packing tape, he heard a gentle knock on the door. 

“You don’t need to knock,” he laughed, turning his head so he could look at her. 

“I mean, it’s your house still-“ she said, anxiously shifting her weight from side to side. Quinn stood, fondly shaking his head as he approached her.

“Your house too now, sweetheart,” he said, wrapping his arms around his girl, and swaying from side to side. 

“I just don’t want it to be too soon Quinn. It’s only been like, a year.” Shesaid, tense in his arms. 

“Mi casa es tu casa, right?” he said jokingly, trying to get the woman in his arms to relax. 

She laughed, encapsulating the room in warmth again. They melted into each other, the tension evaporating. “I don’t ever want to make you uncomfortable, Quinny.” Murmured softly into his shoulder.

Quinn hugged her tighter, trying to forge them together, “you could never make me uncomfortable,” he said as he placed his cheek atop her head. “I feel like I’ve known you forever.” And as he said that to her, he knew it to be true. This love was different, quiet— almost sacred.

And if history's clear, the flames always end up in ashes

And what seemed like fate

Give it ten months and you'll be past it (you'll be past it)

He knew it had to move at some point. Every morning it confronted him, like a ghoul living in his sock drawer. Quinn reached for the intruder, thumb brushing against delicate blue velvet as he withdrew the small ring box from its hiding place. The man sighed as he flipped it open once again. The light reflecting off of the diamond and shining small, nebulous glimmers of light across his tired face. 

A click as he closed the box, the sound of a sharp thump. The little blue box landed somewhere amongst the debris on your abandoned side of the closet. It had been nearly 10 months. Out of sight, out of mind.

That night you were talkin'

False prophets and profits

They make in the margins

Of poetry sonnets

Quinn watched, transfixed as you read aloud to him. His head sat heavily on her thighs, savoring the feeling of her hand touching his hair absentmindedly. The words nearly escaped him, too immersed in the way her sweet lips shaped the words. Nectar falling from her mouth as she kept the meter.

“I had a dream about you. We were in the gold room where everyone finally gets what they want.

You said Tell me about your books, your visions made of flesh and light and I said This is the Moon. This is the Sun. Let me name the stars for you. Let me take you there. The splash of my tongue melting you like a sugar cube... We were in the gold room where everyone finally gets what they want, so I said What do you want, sweetheart? and you said-“

“Marry me.”

It was spoken on the breath of a sigh. Nearly inaudible. Still, the room seemed to lose some of its color. 

“What?” You whispered, hand withdrawing from his hair, leaving an inexplicable dread lingering around his heart.

Quinn sat up, nose brushing hers. “I meant it.” He reached for her hand, shaking and limp in her lap. “Marry me. It’s all I’ve ever wanted.” He breathed out as he looked into her eyes earnestly. 

“I-“

“I know you’re scared. And I know you don’t want anyone to know about us.” The man said, placing her hand on his heart, cradling it gently. “But I don’t care! I would marry you right this second if I could.” He leaned his forehead against her temple, murmuring “just you and me, baby. No one has to know. I would marry you in secret, as long as it means you’re  mine.” Quinn was rambling now, but he’d do anything to convince her. “I already have a ring and-“

His hand landed unceremoniously in his lap. 

Before he could reach out, before he could even breathe, she slipped out of his grasp.

“I’m sorry.”

And Quinn felt like he would never breathe again, staring across the room at his sock drawer and the now open door to what was once their bedroom.

Robert Bly on my nightstand

Gifts from you, how ironic

Three drinks in, and Quinn was conquering his fears. There was 11 months of dust buildup on the slim book, still clinging to the paperback cover. He thumbed it open, nearly caving in and going back for another drink as he glimpsed the tail end of the note you had left for him underneath the title page. 

“- hoping these poems will remind you of me when we’re apart.

Love you lots,

Yours-“

He flipped to another page, hoping to find something he hated enough that he could find the strength to finally throw this book out.

“Longing to find her in a phrase, and be close-“

Quinn closed the book.

Mistaken for strangers, the way it

Was, was

The moment he was  dreading was here. You approached him after practice, quietly waiting for the rest of the team to file past. You toyed with your phone anxiously, “Is it alright if I grab you for a quick video?” She looked as tired as he felt these days. He just stood, gazing at her, responding with a  slow nod. She smiled, relieved. Quinn had almost forgotten what it looked like in person. Still a such a sweet sight. 

He leaned in slightly, irresistant to the gravity of your presence. As you opened your mouth to speak, lips quirked up into a private grin, a voice came from behind him.

One of the new girls on the social media team. She smiled as she approached. “I didn't realise you two were close! Guess it’s something to look forward to, huh?”

You forced a laugh saying, “Well, when you work with someone for two years, you get about as close as coworkers can get.”

Quinn’s spine straightened, in no mood for media duties now. He thought of the ring box, and all the photos he still had yet to delete. The stolen kisses in supply closets, the notes you left him in the margins of your favorite poetry books, highlighting secret code in between the stanzas 

(“O love,  where are you leading me now?”). The words of her favorite poem echoed in his head, “As close as coworkers can get” 

He mumbled something about putting his gear away as he brushed past you, no longer recognizing the foreign way your shoulder bumped against his.

Do you miss us, us? (Us, us, us)

The best kind, well, sometimes

Do you miss us?

He stood, leaning against his counter, trying to decide the best way to respond to this text. 

Out of the corner of his eye he could see the cardboard box full of miscellaneous objects to donate, the creased cover of a poetry book peaking out.

He made his decision.

A blind date sounds great! Is she free Friday?

[kiszjuli]

⁀➷⊹ ࣪ ˖~ THE LA LA LOVE SERIES .ᐟ

introducing the la la love series ── a collection that celebrates your lucky love surrounding valentine's day

💭

♡ MARK LEE ⁀➷⊹

MY GIRL .ᐟ

prologue. "i think i'd rather wait for someone i want to say yes to,"

pairing. shyboy!mark x popular!reader

synopsis. in which mark has apparently claimed you in his heart, and to no one other than his friends. hiding his feelings thinking that he didn't have a chance, he gets extremely jealous when someone tries to ask you out for valentine's day. you're his girl.

♡ HUANG RENJUN ⁀➷⊹

SOMETHING NEW .ᐟ

prologue. "guessing you're not here for pink heart cookies?"

pairing. barista!renjun x burntout!reader

synopsis. tired of all of the valentine spirit at your usual coffee shop, you try a different one a little further from your campus. a less populated, more mellow place, and there you meet huang renjun. you were never one to believe in things like love at first sight; until you met him. all it took was one cup of coffee.

♡ LEE JENO ⁀➷⊹

CLASS CRUSH .ᐟ

prologue. “my brain just goes blank when i look at you…”

pairing. collegeTA!jeno x student!reader

synopsis. in which your shy and reserved TA from your literature class started acting a little different. harboring a crush on you for months, he finally gets the courage to confess to you…on valentine’s day.

♡ LEE DONGHYUCK ⁀➷⊹

BURNT HEARTS .ᐟ

prologue. "..you in the kitchen? with an oven?...that's on?"

pairing. sweetheart!donghyuck x baker!reader

synopsis. lee donghyuck never stepped foot in a kitchen for more than a midnight snack, but for valentine's day he is determined to bake something for you-the campus's best baker and the girl who stole his heart without even trying. when things don't go as he planned, he still shows up armed with charm.

♡ NA JAEMIN ⁀➷⊹

YOU WIN .ᐟ

prologue. "i don't always win, but i promise you i will this time..."

pairing. varsity!jaemin x photographer!reader

synopsis. in which jaemin has been pining after you and makes you a deal. if he wins the valentine's day basketball game, you have to go out with him. you agreed, but you knew you didn't like him like that. at least that's what you've been telling yourself.

♡ ZHONG CHENLE ⁀➷⊹

PERFECT EXCUSE .ᐟ

prologue. "..us. you. me. valentine's day fair,"

pairing. playful!chenle x perfectionist!reader

synopsis. you never cared much for valentine's day. it's not that you needed to, because school was more important. however, when you get roped into a (stupid) day at the valentine's day fair, with the annoyingly charming zhong chenle, maybe your perspective will change.

♡ PARK JISUNG ⁀➷⊹

LOVE BET .ᐟ

prologue. "pfft, you'll be crying into your wallet by next week,"

pairing. bestfriend!jisung x bestfriend!reader

synopsis. you and your bestfriend jokingly make a bet that whoever doesn't get a valentine has to pay for dinner at you guys' favorite restaurant, which is quite expensive. as valentine's day approaches, you both realize that you don't exactly like the idea of the other person going out with someone..

💭 j.note. hi luvvs!! i am so so so excited for this series to come out! i really hope you guys are looking forward to it and they will becoming out one by one starting february 7th! i figured i'd post the masterlist first so that you guys can get the feel and yeah! i hope you enjoy them, and until then if you would like to be added to the taglist (if anyone) just comment! <3

[nick-writes-stuff]

Safety Measure

Hwang In-ho x gn!reader

summary: You have been living with In-ho in his apartment for a year, still haunted by the experience you had in these very halls. When a breach of security happens, your life relies on the safety measures put in place to protect you as well as the fury of the Front Man himself.

!warnings: canon-typical violence, reader is manhandled and held at gunpoint, home invasion, description of a panic attack, hurt/comfort fic

a/n: YIPPEE! I love this one, guys. This is kind of a follow-up to One-sided Reunion, but it can be read totally standalone. (also yeah i'm implying the games work like the olympics, it made sense for the narrative lmao)

Things between you and In-ho had been going great. You had been living with him in his suite on the island for about a year now. That meant the annual game cycle had just begun. You were still hesitant about them continuing. You weren't entirely sold on the societal benefits of them, but you weren't going to actively try to stop them.

You weren't going to deal with the games this time. You basically wanted to forget they were happening. It felt wrong for you to do that, ignoring the fact that people were going through the experience that left you wishing to avoid them. You should feel vindicated to end their suffering, but you just couldn't. The idea of being involved in them, either as an aid or a hindrance, was terrifying to you. In-ho had tried to give you a tour of the compound once, and you got panicky the second you saw the pink, yellow, and blue stairs.

However, that didn't mean you were locked away in the suite all day. He showed you a way to get outside that didn't involve wandering through the familiar settings that haunted your mind. There was a beautiful garden area that you had taken up maintaining while In-ho was busy with the games.

He felt so much better now that there was something he cared for. The suite no longer felt suffocating and lonely. There was someone to return to. Usually the nights had been long and quiet and filled with a little too much whiskey at times, but now he had you. He could come back to the suite and let the mask go and just be himself.

And you were more than willing to be there waiting for him. Even if he had other responsibilities, he always made you feel like you were a priority because you were a priority to him. His devotion to you was greater than his devotion to the games by tenfold at least.

He was always thoughtful. He would take every opportunity to give you things. Not always something expensive or showy, either. Sometimes he would give you an origami crane he made while he was bored in a meeting or a snack he knew you loved that had arrived in the latest shipment that he definitely didn't go out of his way to arrange.

His thoughtfulness extended into anxiety about your safety. Since Gi-hun's attempted uprising, fear had been eating at him. They had been so close to finding their way into the management area. And also after his brother's stunt when he ended up in the suite. He was a bit hypervigilant at times, something you liked to tease him about occasionally.

So when the research and development team brought updated microchips to his attention, he was all ears. Everyone who worked on the compound had one of the chips implanted behind their ear, just like the players did. The new version of these chips included the ability to send a distress signal via pressure sensitivity. Rubbing your fingers over the chip with moderate pressure would be able to send an alert. They had proposed the idea because it would be a way to ensure protection without having an outside device. A phone or a button would draw attention. The person in danger would have a harder time hiding a handheld device and using it covertly. If they were able to use the chip, there was no evidence of the device for the perpetrators to see.

He rolled out the new chips for everyone involved in the compound. You received one as well, obviously. You didn't mind much seeing as you had already had one before. In-ho felt more at ease knowing that the key to your safety was behind your right ear.

He just wished he never had to see its usefulness. But what can go wrong will go wrong.

You had finished your work in the garden and had come back to the suite to start fixing dinner. It was a Tuesday, which was typically the day In-ho had a majority of the evening free. He liked having the time to be away from the games, having the time to take off the mask. You had quickly changed out of your clothes and headed into the kitchen. You washed your hands and heard the door to the suite open behind you.

You glanced at your watch. “You're here early.” You called out in a questioning tone. You dried off your hands and turned around, but it wasn't who you expected. It wasn't him at all.

You were looking down a barrel of a rifle, a man in black holding it toward you. You dropped the towel, lifting your hands into the air. “Who the hell are you?” You asked. You tried not to tremble. This was the first time you had seen a weapon since you were escorted to the suite after your time in the games.

The man glared at you. “I could ask you the same question.” He shot back. He took a step toward you.

You wanted to say something to him, but you couldn't get the words out.

“Here's how this is going to go,” He said. He closed the distance between you. You backed yourself against the counter. “You're going to tell me where my sister is, and I won't put a bullet between your pretty eyes.” He said through gritted teeth.

You flinched as he aimed the gun at your head. You couldn't look at him, too scared to look at the metal he was holding.

He was impatient and angry and holding a gun. “I'm not gonna ask you again.” He yelled. You let out a whimper, as if you couldn't look any more pathetic.

“I don't know who your sister is. I don't know anything, okay?” You said. Your voice was shaking as much as your hands were.

“Is she in one of these rooms?” He asked.

You shook your head. “I don't know where she is. I just live here.” You said.

He scoffed at you. “Bullshit.” He spat, "I know she's here. You did something to her." He was getting more irate, practically screaming.

You shook your head frantically. "I don't know, okay?!" You cried out. He rolled his eyes at you. "I'm not the one in charge here. I just live here."

He slung the rifle over his shoulder and pulled a pistol from the holster on his hip. He pointed it at you. “Get over here.” He ordered. You froze. “Get the fuck over here.” He yelled. Your mind was still frozen, but your legs followed his order.

He grabbed you roughly, holding you in front of him and pushing the cold metal into your back. “If you aren't the one in charge, you're going to lead me to who is.” He said. You were glad he couldn't see your face as you smirked slightly despite the circumstances. In-ho was the last person he wanted to encounter right now.

“I don't know this place well, but I can try.” You said.

He scoffed at you. "I thought you lived here?" He yelled.

"I live in the apartment. I don't go out there." You said.

He tightened his grip on your shoulder, leaving you wincing from the jolt of pain. "Awfully convenient." He muttered.

He shoved you forward toward the exit of the suite. “What are these rooms?” He asked, his loud voice ringing in your ears.

“They are just rooms in the apartment. One is a bedroom and one is a storage room.” You said shakily. He looked at you skeptically. He didn't believe you. He turned to open the door of the storage room. He was tearing the room apart. You didn't even know what was in there. You never bothered to ask.

You took that as your moment. You raised your trembling hand and dug your fingers into the skin behind your ear. You definitely did it with more force than necessary, but you just wanted to make sure you got it to work. When you see him start to turn around, you let your hands return to your sides.

He stepped out and grabbed your shoulder again and jabbed you in the back with the barrel of the gun. His fingers dug into your skin. You knew he would probably leave bruises. “Let's go.” He urged, pushing you forward. You were leading him blindly, but you hoped you would make it convincing enough for him.

–

In-ho was watching over the voting process after the first game. It was a rather tedious task, as he was really just watching a few hundred people getting in line to push a button. That was until he heard the alarm start to sound off. He turned to one of the managers, the blank eyes of the mask staring into the square outline. “What is that?” He asked, but he already knew. His blood ran cold, and he had a sinking feeling in his stomach.

“It's, uh-" the manager paused to think of the way to phrase it, "It's their alarm, Sir" You didn't have a title in the compound since you hadn't been involved in the operation yet. Most people didn't even know you were still on the island. Only a very select few of the managers knew that you were here.

“Where are they?” He said. The filter in his mask helped to mask the growing anxiety.

“They are just leaving the suite now.”

In-ho didn't waste time. “Start investigating the breach. You two,” He ordered, gesturing to the two triangle soldiers posted at the door, “with me.” He said. He rushed out of the control room. He had the upper hand of knowing the layout of the building.

You were trying not to lead the intruder in circles, but you literally had no idea where you were going. “Are you sure you're going the right way?” He snapped.

“I don't know the layout here, I told you that.” You said. You didn't want him to realize it, but you were crying now.

“You're fucking useless.” He hissed, digging the barrel into your spine again. You whimpered, scared of what he would do.

In-ho was able to hear that exchange, and he was seething. He pulled out his own revolver, keeping it low at his side, before turning the corner, and his eyes landed on you and the man.

The man quickly moved the gun from your back to your temple. You tried to flinch away from it, but he tightened his grip on your arm. He was using you as a shield, but he was looking over your shoulder.

You looked at In-ho with wide eyes. Your breathing was shallow as you panicked. Any source of comfort you could gain from his presence was hidden behind the mask, literally and metaphorically. You couldn't see his face, and he couldn't say anything comforting to you because he knew showing an attachment could create problems later on.

You understood his reasoning, but it wasn't enough at the moment. You could very well die here, and the last thing you see of him is the black polygonal mask. You were also scared that he would have to watch you die if something went wrong here. He would have to watch it and hold in his grief because the others couldn't know. You didn't want to become one of the ghosts of people from his past that still haunted his mind.

“I take it that you're looking for me.” In-ho said coldly. The mask was hiding it, but he was scared right now. He couldn't even remember the last time he was scared. But seeing you treated like this terrified him.

The man laughed angrily, “Looks like you weren't as stupid as I thought.” He snapped, punctuating his statement by digging the barrel of the gun into your skin. He looked over your shoulder toward In-ho. “Now, you're gonna show me where my sister is, or I'm gonna put a bullet in-”

The man was cut off by a gunshot, the bullet going straight through his skull. You screamed, scrambling away from the man. For a second, you thought the man shot you. You put your hand up to your temple, pulling it away to see blood. But it wasn't yours.

In-ho froze for a moment, taking a deep breath. He was still holding out his revolver, finger on the trigger after he took the man out. Once it registered in his brain that you were safe, he turned to the soldiers.

“Deal with this.” He said shortly to them. He took a step forward and grabbed your hand. He led you back toward the suite. He didn't do or say anything to you at first. He didn't need any of the soldiers realizing that you were a vulnerability of his.

Once the door shut behind you both, he pulled the mask off, letting it clatter to the ground as he pulled you into his arms. You cried into his chest, hands clenching around the fabric of his jacket.

He tried to calm you down, but it was obvious that he was shaken up by it as well. He gently ran his fingers through your hair. “Hey, it's okay now. You're safe now. He's gone. It's okay.” He whispered repeatedly.

You tried to calm down, but you couldn't manage it. You could feel the man's blood drying on your face and hand. You could still feel the dull ache where he grabbed you. You were shaking in his arms, breathing ragged and shallow.

He pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head. "I'm right here, okay? We're safe in here." He murmured. You nodded slightly. After a few minutes, your grip on his jacket loosened slightly. Your breathing slowed somewhat, but you still weren't calm.

“Do you want to go sit down?” He asked. You looked up at him. Your eyes were still wide and were now glassy and red from crying. You nodded. You couldn't even think about forming words right now.

He led you over toward the couch with a gentle hand on your elbow. He avoided touching your shoulders as he didn't know if you were hurt, and he certainly didn't want to remind you of the man's touch. After you sat down, he looked down at you. “I'll be right back, okay? I'm just going over to the kitchen.” He said. He waited for you to nod slightly before walking away.

He returned with a wet towel and a glass of water. You haven't moved since he left, still staring at the same spot on the floor with a faraway gaze. He got on his knees in front of you, setting the glass on the hardwood floor for a moment.

“I'm just going to wipe off your face, okay?” He asked. He placed his hand gingerly on your jaw, using the other to wipe the blood off. He tried to steady his own hands to no avail. He gently grabbed your hand and wiped it as well. “Do you want a drink?” He asked. You shook your head. He nodded. He walked over and placed it and the towel on an end table.

He sat down next to you. You turned so you were sitting perpendicular to him. You laid your legs across his and leaned into him. Your head rested against his chest. You could hear his heartbeat, which served to ground you. One of his arms wrapped around you while his other hand found its way into your hair.

You were still crying, but you had definitely calmed down somewhat. “Deep breaths, okay? Can you do that for me?” He murmured. You nodded slightly. You instinctively matched his breathing as he rubbed your arm. His anxiety was definitely lessening, but he still felt an intense anger in the back of his mind. Part of him wished he left the man alive so he could make him suffer.

After a few minutes of sitting like that, he moved his hands. One cupped your cheek gently, guiding your gaze to him. “If you don't want to, you don't have to, but could you tell me what happened?” He asked gently. It would be helpful to know so he could properly investigate the incident, but he also knew it wouldn't be a pleasant thing to discuss.

You sat quietly for a moment, moving back to your original position. “I was starting to make dinner, and I heard the door open and..." You said, trailing off as your breathing started to quicken again.

"Hey, hey, it's okay." He said, hushing you quietly. His embrace tightened slightly, resting his chin on the top of your head. "We don't have to talk about it now. Don't worry about it, okay?" You nodded slightly.

You both sat there for a moment. You started to shakily take deeper breaths. In-ho started humming softly. You didn't recognize the song, but you knew it had to be one of the pretentious classical songs that he held in high regard but you had never heard of. It definitely helped to soothe you, however

He took a deep breath. “He didn't hurt you, did he?” He asked. His tone was gentle, but you could tell there was an anger behind it.

“Not really.” You said. You felt him tense up, so you elaborated. “I mean, he grabbed my shoulder pretty hard and dug the barrel into my skin, but I'm fine.” You mumbled.

“Are you sure?” He asked.

You nodded.

You both sat like that for a moment before you spoke. “I'm sorry for scaring you.”

He looked down at you, puzzled. “That's not your fault.”

You shrugged. “I just feel bad because I know you had to hide it until we were alone.” You said.

He held you a bit tighter. “I'll admit, I was really worried. But it's not your fault at all. You have nothing to apologize for.” He said somewhat sternly.

In his mind, the anxiety he feels is just a manifestation of his love for you and his desire to keep you safe. It wasn't your fault that he was worried, and he didn't mind that he was. It was a good thing in his eyes.

You looked up at him, a slight smirk on your face. “At least we know the chips work.” You said with a giggle.

He smiled. There is nothing like some ill-timed humor to lighten the mood. “Maybe next time, we'll leave product testing up to the manufacturer.” He said. He gave you a soft kiss on your forehead.

You returned to listen to his heartbeat. “Can we just sit here for a second like this?” You still felt a bit nervous and shaky, likely from the adrenaline leaving your system.

He nodded. “Of course. Whatever you need.” He said gently. He rubbed your arm slowly. “What were you doing in the garden today?” He asked. He knew you both could use a distraction right now.

You jumped at the chance to talk to him about it, hoping it changes the topic and mood of the conversation. You told him about what you planted in the new planter and how the weeds around the rhododendron bush were stubborn. You updated him on your recent attempts to hand-feed some of the birds that nested in the area. He chuckled and picked on you for your insistence, but your determination and stubbornness were a bit inspiring, honestly.

When you had stopped talking, you had calmed down significantly. You were no longer shaking, and you felt like you could breathe again. And In-ho had calmed down too, seeing as he was considerably less tense. “Do you want to start on dinner? I'm going to make a call to the control room, and I'll be in to help.” He asked.

You looked up at him, giving a skeptical look. You've heard this one before.

He sighed. “It'll be quick, I promise.” He said.

“Sure…” you said, drawing out the vowel.

He rolled his eyes. “You are insufferable sometimes.” He said without malice.

You gave a look of mock surprise. “Rude.”

You got up to the kitchen while In-ho walked over to the rotary phone on the desk. You tried not to eavesdrop on the conversation, but most of it was just him ordering them to investigate the breach. He also ensured he could be with you the rest of the evening, something that brought a smile to your face. He was down bad, wasn't he?

The evening went smoothly for the two of you. He didn't need to be called into the control room at all.

You both got into bed for the night. You looked over at him. “Thank you.” You said softly.

He looked confused. “For what?” He asked.

“For staying with me tonight.” You murmured. “I know the games are important, and they need you. So this means a lot to me.”

He chuckled softly. “Of course I would. You're important to me too, you know?” He said. You could tell from his tone that he was tired. You pressed a kiss to his lips, and you felt him smile into the kiss.

You pulled away slowly. “I love you.” You mumbled.

“I love you too.” He said. He wrapped an arm around you, and it wasn't long until you were able to drift off.

It also wasn't long until In-ho woke up with a start. He jerked awake, breathing quickly. He jerked his gaze over to find you, making sure you didn't have the gunshot wound he had just watched you get in his nightmare.

He thought he hadn't woken you, but you eventually sat up with a yawn. “Hey, what's going on?” You asked sleepily.

He looked down at you. “Nothing, it's fine.” He said softly.

You caught on to what was happening, but you didn't say anything. You rolled over, resting your head on his chest and wrapping your arm around him. “Love you.” You murmured before dozing back off.

He looked at you and smiled with a lovesick grin. What did he do to deserve you? He thought about it until he drifted off to sleep himself.

[dreamerimpossible]

How protective would he be?

Warnings: +18 content, possessiveness, manipulation, obsession, yandere tendencies in some, unhealthy relationships, dark content, canon-typical violence.

Characters: Michael Myers, Chucky, Billy Loomis, Stu Macher, Patrick Bateman, Hannibal Lecter, Vincent Sinclair, Jason Voorhees, Leatherface, Art The Clown, Jason Dean, Alex DeLarge, Kurt Kunkle, Brahms.

Michael Myers

7/10

He's not really that protective. Too wrapped up in his own business. However, if someone thinks hurting you is a good idea, they're very wrong. He doesn't like his toys to have other people's marks on them, so he'll defend you. He won't let anyone hurt you physically. However, he'll be a zero with emotional damage; if someone bothers you like that, you'll have to specifically ask him to do something against that person. He will do it if you ask him to, but he'll prioritize his own victims.

Chucky (Human Version)

5/10

Much more protective than his doll version. At this stage, Charles was much more impulsive, so if someone hurts you in the slightest, that person will get into quite a bit of trouble. If you complain about someone and they're not really a threat to you, he'll just belittle your concerns, but at least he'll accompany you to pay that person a visit, but his goal is entirely selfish. He doesn't do it for you; he does it because he wants to see you in action.

Billy Loomis

9/10

Extremely protective. He's all over you; he doesn't want anyone to ever hurt you. He'll do whatever it takes to make sure no one ever bothers you again. He keeps people away from you who could be a potential threat and keeps you away from people he doesn't like. He doesn't get all the points, as there will be a couple of times he won't defend you because he's mad at you and wants to show you that you're absolutely helpless without him. He'll let you suffer for a moment and come to your rescue. Your eyes of gratitude are priceless…

Stu Macher

7/10

Listen, he could do better. But he'll be pretty careless. He'll protect you if you're in danger, but if it's less serious situations, he'll overlook it, especially if it's at a party. However, if there's something that's stuck in his mind, he'll get rid of it as soon as possible and won't say anything to you. If you dare to ask him questions, he'll make you feel like you're a fool and change the subject. You learn not to ask him anything. If you specifically ask him to get rid of someone for you, he'll do it; you don't even have to explain why. But he'll expect more from you in return.

Patrick Bateman

10/10

Listen, he is, but for selfish purposes. First, you have to be valuable to him. Make him understand that you genuinely like him and can be the person he wants (you don't even have to be; you just have to follow his demands). Then, he'll protect you and show you that he's that man who can take care of you all the time, to the point that you can leave everything in his hands. If you let your guard down and give him his role as protector and provider, he'll be protective and take care of you. However, depending on him so much can't be all good.

Hannibal Lecter

6/10

He's protective about the typical topics. If someone wants to hurt you, he's there. If someone wants to hurt you in any way and in any field, he's there. However, he's not when he feels he can take advantage of your reaction. If someone does something bad to you and he feels that it will bring out your bad and dark side, he'll let it happen. He wants to see both sides of you, both the good and the bad. If you're not a person who shows both sides, he'll bring out the one that suits him. He'll play with your mind, make you dependent on him.

Vincent Sinclair

7/10

Pretty good, actually. New outsiders will arrive, and he'll get rid of anyone who plans to play with you in any way. He's quite protective of you and doesn't want to see you with any scratches. However, he'll do little to nothing if it's his brother. It's not that Bo wants to do something to you constantly, but if he's disobeyed, he likes to punish so that people continue to go down the right path. I don't think Vincent would defend you from something like that; the most he'll do is try to comfort you afterwards.

Jason Voorhees

10/10

They don't play with him, and they don't play with you. It's that simple. Everything is a threat to you, so he tries hard to keep you away from everyone. Literally everyone. His level of protection goes beyond obsession and possessiveness. It's absolutely not healthy what he does, but at least you can enjoy total peace of mind. No one bothers you, because there are no people who can do that. And if there are, they don't last long. Of course, you shouldn't talk about anyone and much less go to places that don't have his approval.

Leatherface

7/10

It's the same dynamic as with Vincent. He'll protect you if it's someone outside. He'll go crazy if they hurt you. If someone insults you, he'll get revenge. He won't let anyone get away with you in any way. But if it's his family, it'll be too hard for him, and even if he wanted to intervene, he won't. Your duty is to get along with his family and not bother them. If they start attacking you, he will not be able to defend you, as they will always be more important than anyone else. He will feel quite frustrated if they do not accept you.

Art the Clown

4/10

He's not protective at all. But he will kill them all. Yes, all of them. So probably among those victims there are people who hurt you, who you don't like, and who made you feel bad. But make no mistake, he's not doing it for you. He's doing it for himself and for his satisfaction. If you're in danger, he will kill the person who is hurting you, but I insist that it's not out of a protective instinct. He does it because he likes to see the suffering of others. If Vicky from the third movie insults you, he will laugh with her. But if he's not in the mood, he will look at her with annoyance. It all depends on his mood. Now, she can't hurt you. No. That's only allowed for him.

Jason Dean

10/10

Yes. It doesn't matter if they're together or not. He won't put you in danger, and all those who hurt you will suffer the consequences. The slightest taunt from a person could be fatal. Seriously, this guy is a real danger. You could tell him you're tired of someone, and you'll both be making a plan to get back at that person, and he'll go all the way with it. He'll expect you to be happy and content afterwards, to share his mood basically. If you're not, he won't do anything, but he'll be disappointed. And he'll show it.

Alex DeLarge

10/10

He is. But let me explain. He'll do this to make you dependent on him and see him as your only salvation. He'll be extremely manipulative, but it will still get you into his trap. You could literally be untouchable. He won't let other men hurt you or let his filthy hands touch what's his. He'll get revenge on anyone who thinks entering your home is a good idea. If a person bothers you in any way, no matter how small, he'll let them know what it means to mess with you. But make no mistake, Alex is controlling, and he'll expect you to obey him. In everything.

Kurt Kunkle

8/10

Pretty good actually. He got tired of no one seeing him, so he started freaking out. If someone disrespects you, he'll think they're disrespecting him, and he'll attack. If a person thinks touching you is okay, then Kurt will think it's a dig specifically at him. He'll think he's being told he's weak, insignificant, and invisible, and he'll start losing control. After that thing, he'll berate you a bit and blame you for stupid things. Praising him might work.

Brahms

10/10

Protective, obsessive, possessive. He literally has it all. He doesn't let you leave his house. He doesn't want anyone to take you away from him or hurt you. He's very strong, so if someone comes in, they'll never get out. You feel protected with him because really no one but him can hurt you. However, at the same time, it might get tiring how much insane protection he puts on you. He will see threats everywhere, until there comes a time when you don't talk to anyone close to you. You only have him.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Monkey see, Monkey do in writing? I don't know how I think this in the story but I wanted it like a natural occurrence between Sibling. How does this could be achieved in the story

Writing Notes: Monkey see, Monkey do

Monkey see, Monkey do - imitation (for a good reason, for a stupid reason, just by instinct...). It is assumed to be an old saying.

Siblings seem to demonstrate an understanding of others’ minds and emotions during real-life interactions long before they show this understanding on more formal assessments.

In particular, this understanding is revealed during episodes of imitation, teasing, shared humour, pretend play, conflict resolution, teaching, prosocial behaviour, and through their use of connected communications and emotional and mental language during conversations.

First-born siblings engage in leadership, teaching, caregiving, and helping roles, whereas second-born siblings are more likely to imitate, follow, take on the role of learner, and elicit care and help.

Younger siblings often imitate the older child’s language and actions during play, which is one way to establish shared meanings.

Siblings demonstrate the ability to teach one another during semi-structured tasks and also during ongoing interactions while playing together at home, while taking into account their sibling’s knowledge and understanding.

Because infants show the ability to imitate at as early as 6 months of age (Collie & Hayne, 2003), older siblings are some of the first teachers in infants’ lives.

The infants aren’t just learning unrelated skills via mimicry, though; they’re also perfecting the art of imitation itself.

One study showed that children with brothers and sisters are better at imitating than those without.

In the study, children with siblings had the tendency to observe and copy the behaviors of others without instruction more than only children did (Barr & Hayne, 2003). 

Infants who are strong imitators are known to be stronger social communicators, especially in terms of language understanding (Hanika & Boyer, 2019). Having infants develop this skill early on sets them up for success in social situations in the future.

Mimicry is vital in many different social interactions, and people have an intuitive sense of how much they like someone which is linked, at least somewhat, to imitation levels (Lakin & Chartrand, 2003).

Mimicry with strangers and acquaintances is strongly studied in this affiliative context, but it takes on a strong role in the development of young children with siblings.

Imitation for those children is a powerful learning mechanism, that teaches not only new motor skills but also social skills, like mimicry itself.

"Baby See, Baby Do" Trope

Named from the expression "monkey see, monkey do".

Babies like to copy. It's how a lot of them learn. Sometimes, it even leads to them saying their first word.

If a baby copies another person, it usually means (or is taken to mean) that they like that person, so the other characters will find it adorable, even if the one being copied doesn't like it.

Sometimes, a character will make a remark about how the baby will grow up to be like the one being copied.

At times, it can overlap with Licked by the Dog trope if the person being copied is or has a reputation for being tough or evil and the surrounding characters believe that babies copying someone means they like them.

If the baby copies an undesirable behavior (swearing is a common one and it might lead to Little Brother Is Watching trope if the baby copies an undesirable behavior from their older sibling), quite often, the older people will try to get them to copy a better behavior, and some adults might try to get their babies to copy them if they want to make them talk.

Examples of "Baby See, Baby Do" Trope.

A Series of Unfortunate Events: At the end of "The Reptile Room", Violet and Klaus are talking about how "brilliant" the murder victim was, to which their baby sister Sunny says, "Brilliant!".

In Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, the Duchess is singing a song about beating her baby son when he sneezes and the chorus consists of only "Wow wow wow!", which the baby joins in on.

Incredibles 2: When Dash says that he wants to fight bad guys and mimes fighting, Jack-Jack also mimes fighting and shouts out some gibberish that ends in "bad guy".

Monsters, Inc.: When Mike says a line of dialogue that includes his first and last names (Mike Wazowski), Boo repeats it. She keeps repeating it until it becomes sort of her catchphrase (along with "Boo!" (how she got her nickname) and "Kitty" (what she calls Sully). She also copies Sully's "Shh" when he tells her to stop laughing.

In The Adventures of Pinocchio (1996), earlier Pinocchio displays this kind of behavior, imitating words and actions of those around him. He's technically "newborn" and is experiencing the world for the first time.

Sources: 1 2 3 4 ⚜ More: References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

Choose which of these notes are most appropriate to incorporate in your own story. Also found some examples that could be used as inspiration, alter as needed. Hope this helps with your writing! More references:

Children's Dialogue ⚜ Examples of Children's Dialogue

Children's Speech & Language

Emotional Development of Adolescents

[bibibahngg]

【ｅｖｅｒｙｔｈｉｎｇ　ｉ　ｄｉｄｎ'ｔ　ｓａｙ.】

------------------------------------------------------------------------------ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚pairing: kim seungmin x reader ⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖summary: overwhelmed by unrequited love and loneliness, you find an unexpected comfort in kim seungmin, who shows you what love really feels like. ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚warnings/genre: angst, hurt/comfort, slow burn(???), mentions of some sensitive topics (family struggles, loneliness, etc.), but it ends with happy ⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖notes: this is my first requested fic :)) i hope this fits what you were looking for @yaniluvs!!! english isnt my first language so, there might be some grammar issues or something like that, but enjoy! ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

falling for your best friend was probably the worst thing you'd ever done to yourself. it hurt, and in the slow, aching kind of way that crept into your chest late at night and refused to leave. after years of sharing secrets, laughing over inside jokes, and being the person they always turned to, your heart had decided to betray you.

and now? now, it was hell.

you didn't mean to get jealous when they talked about their crushes. you really didn't. but every time they lit up talking about someone else, that ugly, clawing feeling curled around your chest, squeezing it tight. you hated it. hated the way it made you feel like a bad friend. hated the way you kept waiting for them to notice the way you looked at them, even though you knew they wouldn't. hated the way you loved them, because no matter how much you tried to convince yourself it was just a phase, it wasn't.

worst of all, you hated how much it made you realize how starved you were for love.

you tried not to think about it too much, but it was always there, sitting in the back of your mind like an unwelcome guest. growing up, love had never been something you could count on. not from your family, at least. your mom had tried her best, sure, but she couldn't carry the weight of everything alone. and when your best friend came along, it felt like you'd finally found what you'd been missing. someone who chose you.

but now that you wanted more, it was unbearable.

you knew it wasn't fair to feel this way, and you hated how frustrated and tired it made you. but you couldn't just shut it off.

so, naturally, the universe decided it was the perfect time to partner you with kim seungmin for that science project. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

working with seungmin wasn't exactly awful. it wasn't like he was mean or anything. just… the kind of person who didn't waste time on unnecessary words or gestures. he wasn't rude, but he wasn't friendly either, which made things feel a little tense between the two of you.

you weren't sure what you'd done to deserve being partnered with the human embodiment of a blank excel spreadsheet, but here you were, staring at seungmin's perfectly organized notes while he quietly ignored you.

"so", you said finally, breaking the silence, "do you ever, like… have fun?"

seungmin's fingers paused over his laptop keyboard. he tilted his head slightly, like he was considering your question, before glancing up at you with a completely blank expression. "define fun."

you blinked. "uh… like hanging out with friends? doing something exciting? not spending your entire life on schoolwork?"

"i play sudoku", he said flatly, turning back to his laptop.

"oh, wow. wild of you", you deadpanned, leaning back in your chair.

his lips twitched, just barely. you couldn't tell if it was the start of a smile or if he was trying to hold in a laugh, but either way, it was the closest thing to emotion you'd seen from him all week.

"what about you?" he asked suddenly, his voice calm and measured. "what do you do for fun?"

the question caught you off guard. "uh…" you hesitated, realizing that you didn't really have an answer. what did you do for fun anymore?

seungmin’s gaze flicked toward you, and you felt strangely exposed under his scrutiny. like he could see right through you.

"you don't know, do you..?" he asked, his tone neutral but his words cutting straight to the point.

"what's that supposed to mean?" you shot back, feeling defensive.

he shrugged, turning back to his laptop. you rolled your eyes, annoyed but also unable to shake the feeling that he was right. despite his frustratingly blunt demeanor, seungmin wasn't as heartless as he seemed. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

you started noticing it in the little things. the way he'd quietly push a bottle of water toward you during late night study sessions, even though he never said a word about it. or the way he'd adjust the desk lamp so it wasn't shining directly in your eyes.

he never called attention to it, always brushing it off if you tried to thank him. "it's not a big deal," he’d say, his voice calm and detached. but it was a big deal to you. especially when everything else in your life felt like it was falling apart.

it kinda felt like your best friend had started pulling away lately, caught up in their own life and their own relationships. you couldn't blame them, not really, but it still stung, in a way. especially with your feelings towards them. and things at home weren't any better. the tension between you and the rest of your family seemed to be growing thicker by the day. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

it was seungmin who noticed first.

"you seem off", he said one afternoon, his voice cutting through the silence like a blade.

you looked up from your notes, startled. "what?" "you're distracted. you've been distracted all week." you opened your mouth to deny it, but the words got stuck in your throat. he was right. you had been distracted. exhausted. frustrated. and right now, it felt impossible to hide it anymore.

"it's nothing", you mumbled, looking away.

seungmin didn't say anything for a long moment, and you thought he was going to drop it. but then, quietly, he asked, "do you want to talk about it?", his voice was soft, almost hesitant, and it caught you completely off guard.

"why do you care?", you asked, the question slipping out before you could stop it.

he didn't answer right away. when he finally spoke, his voice was calm but firm. "cause you look like you're carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders, and someone should care."

his words hit you like a punch to the gut, and the river of tears that you'd been holding back for so long finally broke.

it started small. just a shaky inhale and the prickle of tears stinging behind your eyes. you tried to hold it back, to swallow it all down like you always did, but this time, it refused to stay buried. the tears spilled over, uninvited, and you quickly turned your face away, swiping at your cheeks in a futile attempt to stop.

"hey," seungmin said softly. his voice was quiet, steady, not the least bit judgmental. "it's okay. don't… don't do that."

you sniffled, still refusing to meet his gaze. "don't do what?"

"don't try to hide it." his words were firm, but there was a gentleness to them that made your throat tighten even more. "just let it out."

you wanted to argue with him. wanted to say that you were fine, that he didn't need to worry about you, but the lump in your throat was too big to ignore. before you could stop yourself, the words started spilling out.

"i'm just so tired, seungmin." your voice cracked as you spoke, and the floodgates opened. "of everything. my stupid family, my stupid feelings, my stupid self."

you took a shaky breath, trying to gather yourself, but the words kept tumbling out, raw and unfiltered.

"i feel like… like i'm always the one giving. to everyone. my mom, my best friend, even random people who don't deserve it, and no one ever gives back. no one sees me like that, y'know? like i matter. and i keep telling myself that it's fine, that i shouldn't expect anything, but… but sometimes i do. i just want someone to look at me and care. really care. and it's selfish, and i hate feeling this way, but-"

"it's not selfish."

you stopped short, startled by the sudden firmness in his voice. when you finally looked up at him, your vision blurred by tears, he was leaning forward, his arms resting on the table, his gaze fixed intently on you.

"..you're allowed to want that," he continued, his tone calm but unwavering. "you're allowed to want to feel loved. to want someone to care about you the way you care about everyone else."

you opened your mouth to argue, to tell him he didn't understand, but he didn't give you the chance.

"and if no one else has told you this, then let me be the first. you deserve that," he said. his voice softened, and there was something tender in the way he said the words. "you deserve to be cared for. to be loved. you don't have to do everything on your own."

for a moment, all you could do was sit there, staring at him as fresh tears spilled down your cheeks.

"why are you being so nice to me?" you whispered, your voice barely audible.

his lips quirked, just slightly, in something that wasn't quite a smile. "maybe because i care", he said simply, his eyes never leaving yours.

something about the way he said it. so calm, so certain. it made the tightness in your chest loosen, just a little.

you didn't know how long you sat there, spilling your heart out to seungmin, but by the time you were done, the sun was already starting to dip below the horizon, casting the room in a soft, golden glow.

"feel better?", he asked, his voice quiet but sincere.

you nodded, still a little embarrassed but feeling lighter than you had in weeks.

"good.", he leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable. "now eat something. you've been running on fumes all day."

"are you always this bossy?" you shot back, but there was no bite to your words.

he shrugged, his lips twitching in the faintest hint of a smile. "only when i'm right."

and as much as you hated to admit it, he really was right. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

it was a just some tuesday evening when everything finally came to ahead.

it had been a while since you started working with seungmin. at first, you thought he was just some quiet, overly serious guy who barely tolerated your presence. but over time, you realized that wasn't true at all. he was observant, reliable in ways you hadn't expected, and despite his occasional teasing, he always seemed to know when you needed someone to just be there.

somewhere along the way, your feelings for your best friend had started to fade. not all at once, but slowly. like an old wound finally healing without you noticing. you still cared about them, of course, but that painful ache, that longing for something more? it wasn't quite there anymore.

what was there, though, was the quiet warmth that crept in whenever you were around seungmin.

you were sitting on the floor of his dorm room, surrounded by textbooks and empty snack wrappers. he was scrolling through his laptop, frowning slightly at the screen, when you said it.

"i think i like you."

you hadn't planned on saying confessing. the words just slipped out, quiet but certain. and for a while, they just hung in the air between the two of you.

seungmin froze, his fingers hovering over the keyboard. slowly, he turned to look at you, his expression unreadable.

"what?" he asked finally, his voice quiet.

"i said i think i like you", you repeated, your heart pounding in your chest. "and i don't just mean as a friend. i mean… more than that."

for a long moment, he didn't say anything. you could feel your stomach twisting into knots, the silence unbearable, until finally, he sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

"you're just realizing this now?" he asked, his tone dry but his ears bright red.

you blinked. "wait, what?"

he let out a quiet huff, almost like a laugh, and leaned back against the wall. "i've liked you for weeks. maybe longer."

your heart stumbled over itself, the weight of his words sinking in slowly, "why didn't you say anything?"

he shrugged, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "i didn't think you were ready."

you stared at him, completely floored. "you've been waiting for me to figure it out this whole time?"

"pretty much", he said simply.

"you're ridiculous", you muttered, but you couldn't help the way your lips curved into a smile.

"maybe", he admitted, his gaze softening as he looked at you. "but so are you."

he smiled back, his eyes soft and full of something you couldn't quite put into words.

and for the first time in a long time, you felt like you could breathe.

it wasn't a big, dramatic confession. there were no grand gestures, no sweeping declarations of love. but as seungmin leaned forward, resting his hand lightly over yours, you realized that it didn't have to be.

sometimes, the quiet moments were the ones that meant the most.

and this moment was everything. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ a/n: literally did this in like?? 3 days?? i think i was a little bit excited guys.. js the tiniest bit.. i fear my most used app this week is tumblr... never happened to me before because what..??????? buttt i hope u guys enjoyed reading especially u yani!!!!11!1 ok ty bye bye!

[bananarama321]

IT IS OVER

I have been a Bridgerton fan since 2004, when I was starting university. Most of you understand how excited I was when my imagination was brought to my television. It was even better than what I imagined. I have loved the show and even more season 3 because Penelope was always that girl.

After the world tour, like several of you, I got entranced by Nic and Luke's chemistry. I started shipping them as a couple and had an immense amount of fun with several of you looking for clues and secret messages about them being together.

It was all fun and giggles ... until it wasn't It became a fight over who stayed on the ship or the restaurant. If you didn't believe a theory, you were part of the problem. If you gave a different opinion people would throw you away from group chats and block you if you didn't apologize.

Since the beginning, I was part of the ship because Nic herself said they thought it was "cute". Little by little I started feeling uncomfortable but my "friends" were clear that if you jumped ship you couldn't come back.

Well. I am done. I am jumping ship. This isn't fun anymore and it's becoming toxic and mean-spirited. At this point it is evident that Nic has a steady partner. We don't know much about Luke but I don't want to be the cause of their pain or a reason for them to resent the fandom. The more we insist on saying lukola is real, the less they will share with us because they are afraid we might hurt those that they love.

Let's be transparent for a second. Jake Dunn has never expressed anything related to his sexuality, newsflash: bisexual and pansexual people exist. Jake and Nicola are always together, often alone. She shares him, and he shares her, but you have to be naive to not see the difference online between them and the rest of their friends. Even if after all of this, you believe they are just friends, there is no way you can deny that he is clearly a loved one and that she would be upset about the amount of horrible adjectives people throw his way. Hurting Jake is hurting Nic. No matter how much you like to pretend it isn't.

We know very little about Luke, like I said, but let's stop insulting Antonia too. The girl is young and doesn't owe anything to our fandom.

Also STOP COMMENTING ON NICOLA'S BODY. I have no words for this part. I am baffled, sad, disappointed, and mad at so many of you for not defending her like you defend the ship. She is worth more than that, and I know deeply inside you, you know it to be true.

At the end of the day, Nic is having an amazing beginning to 2025. She is healthy, and happy and is now a SAG-nominated actress. She also has the Neutrogena campaign coming out, The Magic Faraway Tree and hopefully more. We have been blessed by getting a lot of content from her. Let's make her feel happy and relaxed about sharing personal and professional updates with us. We are supposed to be her safe space, not her nightmare.

Luke has been quiet but hopefully has something cooking too. We are waiting on news on when his next two projects are coming out and we should be ready to support him.

Last but not least, they are most likely to be at the SAG Awards in February. Let's not make this about Lukola. It is Nicola's night with her first big acting nomination. I implore you not to ruin it for her.

Sending love to you all. Please if the shipping is too much and you get emotionally affected by them not being together, seek help for your mental health. I don't say that to mock you, I say this as another human who sometimes struggles.

XOXO g.

[iamirhen]

The Midnight Suns rock Band AU literally nobody asked for.

Lore dump under the cut.

The AU in which Robbie never died at that race because the people who cornered him in that alley were actually the police. He managed to get lucky for one single time and narrowly managed to avoid jail by getting sentenced to do community work instead and assisting mandatory sessions in Blade's therapy group for troubled youth at risk. He met Nico, Wanda and Illyana there and ended up begrudgingly befriending them. Blade considers this kids both one of his biggest achievements and biggest sources of headaches.

Nico still get on Robbie's nerves sometimes and in the rare ocasion that he fights with Illyana it usually gets so bad that Wanda needs to mediate because neither of them will put their foot down otherwise. He still makes an effort to keep them in his life, because when he's too tight with money Nico will "accidentally" order too much pizza when they meet and he'll end up going home with leftovers afterwards, so he doesn't complain too much when she asks him to drive her places; and Illyana once showed up to take care of Gabe when he had the flu because Robbie had to work and didn't want to leave him alone, so when she mentioned that she was going to have to sleep in her van for a few days while she searched for a new flat after her former landowner kicked her out, he let her crash at his couch instead. They take care of each other in small ways, even if they dont' mention it.

Starting the band was Nico's idea so they would have an excuse for regular meet ups. She was also the one who got Robbie a second hand battery and insisted that he at least tried. It turned out that he was not half bad at it, he had a good sense of rithm and good coordination, and was surprised to find out that the gigs they eventually managed to pull out were starting to become a very welcome source of extra income. They meet for practice at a community center located in an old church, regented by a couple of old ladies: Sarah and Agatha. Gabe is their number one fan (and Piotr Rasputin is a close second, much to Illyana's dismay), so he's the other reason he hasn't dropped out yet despite being tight on time. After going for several provisional names, the last of them being Scarlet and the Witches, which Robbie was not very enthusiastic about, they ended up setting for Midnight Suns after Hunter's incorporation.

After Wanda was involved in a car accident that left her badly injured and put Agatha in a coma, their band was left without their main singer and guitarrist. It was then when Hunter, Sarah's niece, who had been raised by her aunt and her partner, temporarily moved back to the state after receiving the news about the accident. Hunter's relationship with Sarah became strained after she dropped out of college and started studying to become a tattoo and piercing artist instead. She's covering for Wanda and her stay is only temporary, or at least that was the original plan, but it seems that after her incorporation the band is doing better than ever before. Robbie's not so thrilled about having a new person joining his inner circle, and specially not one that's such a cocky little shit, but better gigs means more money, and he doesn't want to have to go back to work two jobs now that he can manage to live with the money he gets from his work at Canelo's AND the band.

Thanks @moosemonstrous for helping brainstorm ideas.

[peachyparkerr]

to be so lonely | patrick zweig x female reader

or marrying patrick zweig out of convenience <3

tags: fluff, marriage, kissing, talks of having kids, best friends to more, no use of y/n, not proofread so sorry but not, soft patrick because ik that man just needs some love and josh o'connor is softie and i said so

˳༄꠶ a little self indulgent fic because challengers nation will never die.

you'd like to tell yourself that you'd find someone to marry when there was a right person to marry. you'd also like to tell yourself that you weren't in a rush and you were perfectly fine being single or dating casually til that came. but of course, that wasn't good enough for your parents who were just itching to get you married off. they just wanted you to be taken care of, and they were so insistent on introducing you to some of their friends' sons, "just a few" they said. you didn't have the heart to tell them no.

that's how you find yourself here. hiding out in your childhood bedroom after talking to the umpteenth "eligible" bachelor from yet another, you'd lost count, party thrown by your parents just for this reason. these "eligible" bachelors weren't exactly the type of husband you were looking for. they were all full of themselves, too caught up in their jobs or alcohol, or just looking for a wife for the sake of being able to say they had one. you were getting fed up, and didn't know how many more men you could stomach talking to before your parents ended up arranging a marriage for you. that's why you were hiding up here, sitting on your bed, trying to wait out the party. anything to get a moment to breathe.

your solitude didn't last long until your door was opening. you hadn't expected to be found, but before you could stumble out whatever excuse came first as to why you were up there, you were met by the sight of a familiar tall, dark haired man appearing in your room. your childhood best friend and next door neighbor flashes his signature grin at you, and suddenly you can't help but feel so relieved.

"if it isn't the guest of honor. shouldn't you be entertaining another private equity investor?" patrick says, sporting his familiar smirk back at you, closing the door behind him.

"that or drowning out the sound of their voice by downing champagne." you laugh.

"oh you mean to tell me you're not fawning over these idiots? i'm shocked." he laughs sarcastically before sitting next to you on your bed. you make room for him and he settles him arm around you. "at least your parents are trying to give you options, i'll be lucky if i meet my future wife before they walk down the aisle."

"as if you're not meeting tons of women when you're playing tennis." you point out, poking his side.

"none that i like, none that i want to marry, and none that my parents would approve of anyway." he huffs. "call me crazy, but ideally i don't want to be married off to someone who just wants my money or my parents money."

"i get it. i have no interest in being a trophy wife yet that seems like all these guys my parents are trying to marry me off to. something just for show. is true love really that dead?" you sigh.

"maybe we just haven't found the right people yet." he says as he leans his head back against the headboard looking at you, waiting to see what you're going to say next.

"at least that's what i'm telling myself. i'm practically an old maid already. it's not long before i'm going to die alone, with no one to love me."

he scoffs at that. "now you're just being dramatic. you're not going to die alone, you're a catch."

"sure i am. that's why i'm only being offered up to assholes." you roll your eyes at his statement. you're being a little self deprecating, but you've had a long night. many nights, just like this one, in fact.

"anyone would be lucky to have you." he says, his expression serious looking down at you.

"in theory, sure, but...and I'm only saying this to you because you're my best friend... i'm genuinely afraid that no one's going to want to ever be with me and that i'll never find someone that values me enough to treat me like i'm actually deserving of love." you admit sadly, looking away from him and at your hands in your lap.

he moves from next to you to in front of you and forces your chin up to look at him.

"you are the smartest, kindest, and most beautiful person i know. you are deserving of the best love there is to offer. whoever marries you is the luckiest person in the world, hell i'd even marry you." he laughs but something in patrick's eyes almost has you convinced that he means every thing he says.

"you're just saying you'd marry me to make me feel better." you contradict but you can't help but feel your face flush at the way he spoke about you.

"i'm not because everything i said is true, and I know if I called my mom right now and told her I was marrying you she would cry tears of joy if it meant she gets to have you as a daughter in law. and now that i think about it..." his expression turns serious as he considers his next words but then he smiles big and genuine, "we should get married. for real."

"patrick, your mom has been pushing for us to get married since we were twelve, don't go joking around like that." you think he's being crazy and messing around like he always does.

"it's not a joke." his tone is serious but he's smiling. "why shouldn't we get married? we know each other better than anyone else, our parents would stop trying to set us up with horrible people, you get a husband and i get a wife. we won't die alone because we'd have each other."

"you're ridiculous. you're asking me to marry you, you realize that right?" you're completely taken aback by this. he's your best friend, has been since you guys were five years old, and suddenly he's propositioning you to marry him.

"i know i'm ridiculous, but you would be too if you turn me down. come on," he pulls your legs over his lap and scoots closer to you on the bed, grabbing your hands, "marry me. it's the best option."

you search his eyes for any sign of a lie. there is none.

"you're serious? you want to get married just because it's convenient? what are people gonna say about our fake marriage?" you question but your heart is just about beating out of your chest.

"not just because it's convenient. you're everything to me, and if marrying you means that i get to spend telling my best friend that every single day and making her feel like she's the universe's greatest gift to earth for the rest of my life, because she is, then why not? who cares if it's fake? nobody has to know anything other than that reason as an explanation of why we're getting married." he makes air quotations around fake but he's speaking tenderly.

"you don't even have a ring." you point out matter of factly, but you're smiling, and he is too because he knows that he's got you right where he wants you.

"i can get you a ring by tomorrow afternoon. but i'm assuming that's a yes? you gonna let me make you my wife?" he teases leaning in close.

"okay. i'll marry you patrick zweig." you smile and he throws his head back in celebration before kissing the top of your head.

you guys laugh in disbelief in what you guys just agreed to, but spend the rest of the party hiding up in your room talking about how you're gonna tell your parents and what your guys' wedding is gonna look like.

˳༄꠶

patrick keeps his word and shows up to your apartment with a ring the next day. you don't know how he managed to get the most beautiful ring you've ever seen in one day. you're in even more shock that it's exactly what you've always wanted. he slides it onto your finger with ease, and he's not surprised that it's a perfect fit. he thinks to himself that this ring he got for you looks right on your finger, like it's always belonged there. he intertwines your hands after, pressing a kiss to your knuckles wordlessly, before leading you to his car to take you to tell your guys' parents the news.

he doesn't leave your side the whole time, keeping a hand or an arm on you as if he can't be without touching you. your guys' parents cry tears of joy, like he said they would, and you play your part as the perfect fiancé with ease as they invite more and more people over to celebrate.

the parents don't hesitate to throw themselves into wedding planning and throw more parties in preparation. it's a lot really quick, but you don't seem to mind. he sees the way you light up looking through dumb magazines with your mom or how you smile when his dad breaks out pictures of patrick you'd never seen before. it makes patrick forget this is all technically fake.

patrick convinces you to move in with him shortly after. you try to protest, but he's already made the space for you.

"i can take over the guest room you know."

"no way. what kind of husband would i be if i made you take over that room? there's plenty of space here. besides, what will our parents think? we're supposed to be madly in love." he rolls his eyes as he insists, gesturing to the huge bed he has and the empty spots in his closet, but is trying to push down the thoughts of what it'll be like to have you close every night for what's supposed to be the rest of your lives.

"i'm just saying that as far as fake marriages go i wouldn't mind if you wanted me to sleep in the other room." you say with your hands on your hips, but sometimes saying out loud that it is a fake marriage, reminding you that it's not technically real, makes your stomach twist.

"but i want you here. i don't want you to sleep in the other room." he says with a pout, as if it's the most normal thing in the world. how could you say no now?

you don't put up a fight anymore, and he helps you put your stuff where it now belongs. when you go to sleep at night you both stick to your own sides. it stays that way for the first couple of months of living together, til one night you sleepily curl into him because you're cold and you can't sleep and he doesn't have thick enough blankets. he pulls you close because he runs warm, you fall asleep right away, with him falling asleep soon after. he's never slept better.

when you guys pick your wedding venue with both your moms there, he knows its the one from the way your eyes follow every detail and you hang onto every word of the tour. how you start to walk ahead of him and get excited. you finally turn to ask him what he thinks, but he's just about finished writing out the check for the deposit and handing it over to the person in charge. when he catches you looking at him, you smile and practically jump into his arms and kiss his cheek. he's never seen you so happy, and he's failing at fighting the way he's turning red.

˳༄꠶

after that the wedding starts to get closer and theres barely any time alone with all the celebrations and meetings and planning. sure, you guys get a moment to breathe back at your now shared place but usually fall asleep as soon as you get home these days. luckily, there is one fleeting moment where you guys escape to your childhood room once again.

your sat in his lap facing him as he sits up against the headboard, just trying to enjoy peace and quiet. he likes having you close like this, even if its supposed to be fake. you don't question it because part of you wants to believe he's always been touchy and you're still best friends. best friends that happen to be getting married.

after some time you remember something and sit up straighter.

"i almost forgot, i have something for you." you say breaking the silence and reaching over to your bedside table.

"you have something for me?" he asks curiously, his hands finding your waist to steady you. he watches as you pull a small box out and hold it out to him.

"open it." you instruct with a smile.

he raises an eyebrow at you, but you usher him to open it, and he can't resist you so he reluctantly pulls his hands away from your hips to take the box and open it. when he does, inside are cufflinks. but instead of ordinary ones, they're engraved, with his initials and yours. he feels his heart clench in his chest.

"wow...these are really nice." he manages to breathe out. it's the most thoughtful gift he's ever gotten from anyone.

"i thought you could wear them on the day you know and whenever you have special tennis events? i know we have wedding bands and you got me an engagement ring but i wanted to get you something special. something just for you." you say a little shy. he's done so much for you, and you guys aren't really ones to talk about feelings, but this can say more than words can.

"i love them." he says. i love you. he thinks.

you smile and he smiles back and you think that you could just kiss him right then and there. but before you can even finish the thought and convince yourself that you're making the right choice by not acting on it, suddenly your mom is calling you from downstairs to come help her with something. you both groan, but he tells you to go anyways. when you're gone, his heart is still beating out of his chest.

that night at your shared place when you're getting into bed he's quiet. he's beating himself up inside about how much he's in love with you and he can't say because this whole thing about fake marriage was his idea but he's going to marry you anyway and pretend everything's fine and have to be okay with that. how he should be bothered by questions like when are you guys gonna get a bigger place or have kids because it's way too soon, but he wants those things with you. he wants someone thats the best parts of both of you and looks like the perfect little mini version.

but of course you notice he's quiet. he's usually more outspoken, cocky and cracking jokes.

"are you okay?" you ask tentatively from your side, turning to him.

"oh... fine. just tired. " he faces you and the way you look at him so concerned, so caring, has him burning up, especially with the way he's lying through his teeth.

you reach out to him when you see how flushed he is, and you put the back of your hand on him to feel him and he's burning up. he burns up more, and you can't tell if you are too.

"you're burning up...maybe you're getting sick?" you're so concerned and you don't know if he's actually sick or if its something you did.

"maybe...i'm fine, though, really." he lies again.

"do you want me to sleep in the other room?" you suggest, not because you want to though, because not sleeping next to him almost is worse than him possibly being sick, but because you don't want to make anything worse.

"no!" he says a little too quickly and sharp. but he tries to cover it up. "stay."

you just nod and pull him close. he lets you, and immediately buries his head in your neck and breathes in the scent of your freshly washed hair. he's supposed to be strong and not so clingy like this, but the way he holds you tightly and instead of pulling away you rub his back makes him feel so weak.

you don't know what's wrong, and you don't want to make it worse or ask, so you just stay like that.

"you're okay. i got you, pat." you speak soft and sweet in his ear. and he believes you because he'd believe anything you'd say.

˳༄꠶

for the sake of tradition, you guys don't sleep in the same room the night of the rehearsal dinner/night before the wedding. and knowing this, you can't seem to keep hands off of each other the whole night. holding hands, his arm around your waist, your head resting on his shoulder. how are you guys are gonna kiss for the first time at the end of the aisle in front of all these people tomorrow and not lose your damn minds?

when parting ways for the night he hugs you tight, as if he's afraid he'll never see you again. he's also so nervous, not because he doesn't want to get married to you, but because how is he going to spend the rest of his life loving you and not tell you?

you hug him back just as tight, not wanting to admit you won't get any sleep without him next to you tonight.

"see you at our first look tomorrow." you say as you're about to part ways for the night.

"i can't wait to see your dress. do i get any hints on what it looks like?" he tries to joke to ease his aching heart.

"it's white." you joke back and laugh. he laughs too and you think it's the best sound in the whole world.

you guys reluctantly part ways, and as predicted, neither of you sleep a wink the whole night without each other.

tomorrow comes, and after he's all ready, he's shaking and fiddling with his cufflinks waiting for you to come out for the first look. and when he finally sees you walking towards him, he actually thinks his heart is going to explode.

you keep getting closer and your holding your breath but looking at nothing but him. and when you get closer his jaw actually goes slack.

"hi." you say softly and smile when his jaw is still dropped. you gently close it for him, and he melts a little

"hi. you look... wow... you're perfect." he manages to croak out, his voice suddenly stuck in his throat. you're always beautiful to him, but today, he swears he's seen an angel.

"i like your suit." you compliment and fix his bowtie for him hoping he can't see how your own hands are shaking. but he takes his hands and yours and looks at you for what feels like a long time until you realize he hasn't said anything. "what?"

"i love you." he blurts out. he barely realizes he's said it, but when he does his eyes widen and so do yours. he doesn't take it back tho. he just stares into your eyes and hopes you understand how much he really means it.

"you love me?" you whisper in disbelief. is this really happening?

"i love you. i'm in love with you." he confirms, trying to read your expression to see if you feel the same, if you're still going to go through with this wedding or if he's screwed it all up.

"i love you too. i'm in love with you too. " you admit quietly, feeling your mouth curve up into a smile.

he lets out a breath finally, and feels tears prick at his eyes and fall down his cheeks. you wipe them away.

"god, you have no idea how long i've wanted to say that." he rests his forehead against yours and pulls you close.

"great timing." you joke, putting your hands on his face. he laughs and you can feel his breath on your lips.

it feels like a weight has been lifted off both of your chests now that this is out in the open. suddenly you're both leaning in and your lips are inches away. he's cupping your jaw now, your eyes are locked on his. and when your guys' lips meet in a kiss for the first time in your entire lives, its soft and full of months of desire and unspoken feelings. it's reverent and its yours. he momentarily deepens the kiss, pulling you even closer if that's even possible, and you lose yourself in the passion before finally coming up for air. you're both grinning and out of breath but couldn't have asked for anything more.

and when you reach the end of the aisle a few short moments later, and he kisses you again, you both get to relish in the fact that this is real. that true love isn't dead and that the right person for them was right in front of them this entire time and will be for the rest of their lives.

i haven't written a fic in YEARS but i had a bad day today so #yea

[arceus-insanity]

My Hero Academia vs Assassination Classroom: Becoming Teachers

Now I recently saw a post going on about how people dislike Deku becoming a teacher in chapter 430. And another user chalked it up to Westerners' disrespect for teachers vs Japan's great revere for them, plus shipping discourse

And while I feel that those definitely don't help, I do feel that that isn't the balk of why a lot of us hate it. It also reads as one of those elitist takes in fandom where they are talking down to those who don't agree with them

Now I'm a Westerner, and I hate Deku becoming a teacher. It's not because I don't respect teachers, and when it happened in Assassination Classroom I was all for Nagisa Shiota becoming a teacher. I would have preferred to see him and/ or Karma become assassins but I was still satisfied with how it ended. So why is that? Especially because we know Hori was a fan of Assassination Classroom, prototype Bakugou was based on Karma for crying out loud.

Achieved vs Happenstance

A big part of it is framing, everyone in 1A, 1B, and basically everyone else explicitly want to be heroes, or at least something adjacent to it. That's why they are in the hero course, and Izuku Midoriya especially has a one-track mind for heroes until the surprise reveal. He was constantly told no, pick something else, for a decade but was still hyper-focused on being a hero leading up to the show. Nor do we see or otherwise learn that he has other developing interests. There's a ton of fanfics and headcanons of him helping his classmates with school work or even just their quirks, but there's nothing in canon. The only character who does anything like that is Momo Yaoyorozu. The vast majority of 1A and once again especially Izuku Midoriya are only interested in being heroes. Izuku is also the only one who didn't become a hero (until years later) despite the need for them totally going down and them being paid per arrest.

Meanwhile, no one in 3E the end class, chose to be an assassin, Kuro Sensei just decided that he was going to teach that class, and the world needed him dead. A lot of students explicitly have other interests and none of them have a personal interest in being an assassin past killing Kuro Sensei. Yes, Nagisa Shiota is shown throughout to be surprisingly good at assassination work, and he is explicitly given an offer to join the world as an assassin. But when he gets the offer he asks himself do I really want to do this. We also learn via the little girl who suggests the career to him in the first place, that he has been tutoring her. We also get to see how he takes the uniqueness and skills from 3E into his teaching job.

So in short the premise of Assassination Classroom is much better suited to have it's characters enter very different fields to begin with.

Better Focus on Academics

Yes, My Hero Academia takes place largely in a school, but they don't put any focus on the school part. Whenever they're doing something in class it's either big combat test or self-directed training. And in the later seasons, more and more time got taken up by the big-name pro-hero fights. The two teachers we see the most of, both have bad teacher tags on Ao3 and I have seen numerous takedowns of their teaching skills accurately citing the series.

Assassination Classroom however has school and studying as a constant theme throughout the series. We see 1E being taught both standard school stuff, and learning various assassination techniques to achieve their goal. Kuro Sensei also makes it very clear that if they are just going to bank their futures on killing him and winning the money, then he sees no point in staying around for them to do it.

Getting it Regardless vs Earning Respect

One ongoing issue I have with MHA is that I largely got into the series because I thought that it was going to criticize societal issues. Instead, it ended up doing a 180. Now this mostly applies to the pro-hero worship, largely because once again there is barely any time dedicated to the actual academic part of the show. But with both the teachers and pro heroes their failures and shit behaviours aren't treated as reasons to lose respect, making any respect for them empty. This also leans into the very real issue of roles that come with unconditional respect, will attract people who will abuse it.

Meanwhile, 3E came into the show without this innate revere for teachers, because their past teachers especially in their school have actively screwed them over at every turn. Karma is even elated at the idea of killing a teacher after his last one betrayed him. Nagisa Shiota was being very blatantly abused at home, and Kuro Sensei is the first teacher to stand up for him. The teachers of 3E have to earn the students' trust and respect. When Bitch Sensei treats them like shit when she first joins, the students return the favour, she has to apologize for her poor behaviour for the class to give her a second chance. So when it ends with the students having a deep connection to their teachers and a renewed appreciation for school it's because that respect was fucking earned. Also, the principal who created this system set up 3E to be abused and sabotaged them every chance he got, got fired for his shit leadership aka actions have consequences. They also didn't feel the need to excuse the bullies shit behaviour either

So in one setting, we have authority figures constantly being shit but being revered anyway. And the other, where the respect has been lost and needs to be earned back, thus the respect they get has a much stronger foundation.

Side notes

Deku sucks at explaining, I've said it both on my main and AU blog, but Deku is horrible at explaining. One of the main aspects of teaching, and he sucks at it because he overcomplicates and goes off on tangents, plus mumbling. If it was just his thought process, it would be a mildly annoying but harmless habit, but he does it when talking to people

Also, Assassination Classroom has a way less bloated cast, allowing us to actually get closer to the characters.

[roeiswriting]

The terrible influence tour is, at its core, about asking the question what has the influence of the creators Dan and Phil had on their audience through the evolution of the internet? How dynamics between creators and their audiences have changed as social media keeps rising to become an entirely different beast all together and really acknowledging how they have somehow been a part of raising an entire generation of people.

I went to the tour last night, “the real hometown” show in the words of Dan, after somehow avoiding every spoiler besides a costume change and something I took a lot of notice of was the amount of cat whiskers, llama hats, old references in peoples outfits, and so on.

I’m not saying that as a negative, far from it actually, walk with me.

This show is about growth.

Being able to see yourself as an adult in this community, having a chance to confess your sins, admit to the parasocial relationships you may have taken too far as a young person, and reflect on everything we have all been through as a collective.

Regardless of if you knew the person sat next to you, you found yourself making shocked faces, maybe tearing up a little, and sharing a genuine excitement that you know every person in that room understands.

Every whisker on a face is a reflection of an inner child from a different era having a moment to breathe and see the future they were able to reach.

Because that’s the influence that Daniel Howell and Phil Lester have had right?

Well they find themselves with a group of young queer creatives, a lot in their twenties, maybe they grew up with friends constantly telling them they reminded them of one of the pair, that their fandom made sense because the similarities were so clear. A group who understand the struggles of mental health and needed to know that it is healthy to ask for help and explore what’s wrong to get better. A group who from a young age looked in the mirror and didn’t want to feel completely alone in what they were going through and became able to look back with a smile.

A slight spoiler here but when Phil seriously talks about the hiatus being a good thing he was met with a chorus of sincere agreements from the crowd because it’s true that the growth everyone has been through in that time is what makes now so special.

Boundaries are deeply important and I like to think that at least 99% of people in this community are respectful of that, a general agreement is that both of them look infinitely happier in the content they are creating now because of how far everyone has come, us and them, not just creatively but in terms of maturity too.

The show is an opportunity to show growth and change yet a chance to look to the inner child who needed that safe space more than anything and know that they were not doomed, not fated to be eternally young or fail to see the future they deserved to live, but were strong enough to keep going and have the courage to exist.

@danielhowell @amazingphil

[redtsundere-writes]

Date 2. Listening To Music

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Soldier!Reader

🡨 Previous | Next 🡪

Summary: You just want to help Ghost to stop harming himself… These aren't dates, okay?

Word Count: 2974 words.

TW: MNDI. Self-harm. Smut. Possessiveness and Jealousy.

Ghost hated that Price smoked so close to his bed. Although he was partly to blame for choosing the bunk closest to the window. Now and then he would catch the captain smoking with half his body out of the window to “avoid” stinking up the room, but it never worked. The smell reminded him of his father. His harsh laugh with the smoke escaping from his cruel lips. Ghost couldn’t stand it anymore, he had to get his anger out.

The hallways were dark, but Ghost already knew the way to the exit by heart. Walk out of the room until he reached the wall, then walk left along it and go down the second staircase that led directly to the reception and then the exit. His boots echoed against each metal step, he stopped halfway when he heard a second pair of boots. He turned around to find you following him, rubbing your eyes half asleep.

“Are you going to the gym?” You asked.

You were face to face, thanks to you being a few steps higher to compensate. Ghost looked away out of shame, he didn't want to admit what you already knew. His knuckles had already healed, and he was ready to destroy them again. You sighed as your suspicions were confirmed.

“Follow me,” you asked, passing by him to lead the way.

Since you had caught him red-handed, Ghost had no choice but to follow you. You followed the stairs until they reached the common room where the shared television was and some private offices to do work or make phone calls, although most soldiers used it for other things.

“I once told my father that I was depressed, and he just told me: 'You're not depressed, you just have a dirty room.' So I did. I left it spotless,” you told him as you led him to the storage room.

“Did it work?” Ghost asked curiously.

“No,” you answered honestly. “But at least I cried in a clean room.”

You opened the door with a mischievous little smirk. Ghost could already imagine what awaited him from that short story. On the other side was a messy world, filled with canned food, blankets, and cleaning products piled up on metal shelves. Sense and order had been thrown around, and now you had to find it.

“Tonight we’re going to clean and organize the entire storage room,” you explained.

“We?” Ghost arched an eyebrow under his balaclava.

“I have seen your locker, trust me, you’ll need help,” you told him, rolling up your sleeves to get started.

You both got to work. Ghost dusted the cans off and you stacked them. You separated the cleaning products by sections of use, while Ghost swept the cobwebs off the ceiling. You both folded the blankets so that they would be better accommodated on one of the upper shelves. The whole night passed by. You did not talk because there was not much to say. You had been working together for more than a year, so you were already comfortable with each other's silence.

You were labeling some cardboard boxes until you came across one that had “Lost and Found” written on it. Your curiosity got the better of you, and you opened it to discover what was inside. Old t-shirts, ridiculous keychains, an empty canteen, everything seemed relatively normal until you saw a relic.

“Hey, Ghost, check this out. I haven’t seen one of these in years!” You called out excitedly to show him a pill-shaped MP3 player with its respective headphones connected. “And it turns on!” Your eyes sparkled as the screen light up green.

You sat on the floor, your back against the shelf, to find out what kind of music it had. The owner of the MP3 really liked 80s rock. AC/DC, Journey, Tears for Fears are some bands he had in his small library. Ghost joined you curiously, stealing an earphone to share.

“This person has good taste,” you commented.

“Not bad,” Ghost shrugged. “Could have more metal in it.”

“Why am I not surprised?” You asked sarcastically.

It was to be expected. Ghost was in her forties, so he was born in the early 70s. He was at least 6 years old when the heavy metal craze started in the UK, he practically grew up with the genre. Simon probably had posters of his favorite bands in his room and his mom would yell at him to turn down the music when he was listening to the stereo.

“Oh, this is a great song,” you said excitedly as you heard the beginning of Don’t You by Simple Minds.

You let the song play while humming the song and moving your shoulders to the beat. Ghost looked at you out of the corner of his eye as he enjoyed the song in his own way, in complete silence. Unlike him, you weren’t afraid to express your likes or opinions. If you wanted to do something, you just did it without having a nagging little voice in your head telling you it was a bad idea. Sometimes you envy being able to be free even though neither of you were locked up.

The song ended, and you continued to look through the repertoire. You were surprised to see the ballad When a Man Loves a Woman by Michael Bolton was in it, as it didn't seem to fit in with the rest of the songs. You were about to skip it when Ghost's voice stopped you.

“Leave it. I want to listen to it”.

“I never thought you'd like ballads,” you commented surprised.

“I don't like them,” he replied.

“If you don't like it, why do you want to listen…?”. Your eyes shot open in realization. “It reminds you of someone!”. You exclaimed in eureka.

“Well…”. Ghost scratched the back of his neck. It was lucky his balaclava covered his flushed face.

“A partner?”. You asked curiously.

Unlike Soap, who talks as if he was on a forever podcast, Ghost never did, much less about himself. Approved topics of conversation were discussions of hypothetical cases, the weather, or missions. That Ghost was about to reveal a memory like that was unlocking a piece of the mysterious puzzle to discover who is Simon Riley.

“No,” Ghost replied. “It’s the song I lost my virginity to.”

If the shelf hadn’t been there, you would have fallen flat on your back. You gaped at him as he looked at you weirdly as if you hadn’t just confessed that he lost his virginity to one of the most romantic ballads of 1991.

“What?” Ghost asked.

“Who would have thought? You’re such a romantic!” You scoffed.

“Not at all.” He snorted, looking away in embarrassment. “We were in the car…”

“You lost your virginity in a car?!” You exclaimed, to which Ghost quickly covered your mouth.

“Shut up, you’re going to wake everyone on the base with your screams,” Ghost whispered to you angrily. For a second you had forgotten that it was 4 in the morning.

“It must be a great story,” you whispered, still excited.

“You really want to know?” You nodded excitedly. “Fine, but you better not tell anyone,” he threatened you.

“My lips are sealed,” you closed your mouth with an imaginary zipper.

Ghost sighed, he couldn’t believe he was about to tell you one of his most precious memories. Even though that annoying little voice in his mind begged him not to, he wanted to do it. He trusted you.

“Prom was coming up. There was a girl, Melanie, but back then she was ‘Fat Melanie.’ She was bullied every day at school.”

In high school, Simon was a lone wolf who was always on the lookout for his surroundings. He knew everything. He knew who the popular ones were, the bullies, and the victims of the popularity pyramid. The only reason Simon wasn’t among the victims was because he was 6’1” tall at 18 years old. Add to that the fact that he always had an “I’m going to kill you” face on, even if he was just thinking about what he was going to eat that afternoon. Most of his classmates were so scared of him that they thought he was going to shoot up the school at some point. Luckily, this is the UK and not the US, Simon didn’t have a gun… yet.

Melanie was one of the most frequent victims he bumped into because her locker was in the same hallway as his. She was the one bullies picked on the most for having good grades and being fat, since this was the 90s and anti-bullying campaigns didn’t exist back then.

One day, a scream of excitement broke out in the hallway. Simon poked his head out of his locker to see the source of the loud sound. It was Melanie who had just received an anonymous love letter. Then he heard one of the bullies holding back his laughter, hiding behind a pillar like the fox from Dora the Explorer. Simon didn't need any more evidence to know that it was a practical joke.

Apparently, the love letter turned out to be a hateful essay on how the poor girl must kill herself to have loving parents who gave her double helpings of dessert after dinner. Melanie ended up in a sea of ​​her own tears while the bully mocked her in her face. Simon closed his locker to take a cigarette out of his pocket. He placed it on his lips and lit it in an attempt to remove himself from the situation. He was going to continue on his way, ignoring everything as always. It wasn't the first time he saw Melanie cry, he had more important things to worry about at the moment.

The other students watched the scene with some emotion at the absurd spectacle. A group of friends whispered that they felt sorry for her, which Simon thought was hypocritical. “Damn cowards…” That thought made him stop dead in his tracks. He was not a coward.

“Who would take an elephant like you to prom?” The bully mocked, cornering poor Melanie against her own locker.

The smile faded when Simon grabbed him by his leather jacket and slammed him hard against the lockers to get him out of his way. Melanie stopped crying confused at not understanding why a stranger was helping her, better yet, why a cute boy was helping her. Simon, despite his unfriendly face, was attractive in his own way. Unruly dirty blonde hair, chocolate eyes, sharp features and lips that she wanted to kiss because he was her hero. Simon took the cigarette out of his lips and blew the smoke out carelessly.

“Wanna go to prom with me, yes or no?” Simon asked her directly.

“Wait, wait… Is that how you asked her?” You asked, offended for Melanie, interrupting the story.

“Yeah, what’s wrong?”

“Ghost, I’ve seen you interrogate terrorists with more tact than that,” you explained.

“I was never good at that kind of thing, but whatever. She said yes.” He shrugged.

“Obviously she was going to accept. You were her consolation prize, even though she knew you were asking her out of pity.”

“I mean, she was pretty. Blonde, green eyes, a nice smile, she was just…”

“Fat?” You raised an offended eyebrow.

“Short. She barely reached my chest,” Ghost corrected.

“Oh.”

Simon didn’t plan on going to the prom, as he didn’t have money for it. So in less than a week he got the tickets by doing some odd jobs around the neighborhood, bought a black suit at a thrift store, borrowed a neighbor’s car in exchange for some handyman work, and stole some pink roses from a hotel garden.

After the neighbor gave him some advice on how to behave like a gentleman, Simon went to pick up Melanie at her house. Luckily, the roses matched her dress that looked like a cotton candy cloud. Her mother was impressed with the boy who asked her sweet daughter to prom. She forced them to pose for a picture while her father glared him.

Simon thought he would hate prom, but he had a good time. They took their yearbook photo, the band was good, and no one bothered them all night. Melanie was forcing him to dance, even to the slow songs as if they were dating. Since he had invited her, he had no choice but to please her. After all, it was only for one night.

It turns out that some idiot poured whiskey into the fruit punch without anyone noticing, so Simon and Melanie were waiting in the parking lot for the alcohol to go down so they could go back to their houses safely. The radio was on the love station (Melanie's choice). Ghost doesn't remember how it happened exactly, but one moment they were chatting and a second later, she already had her hand on his crotch.

Luckily, his kind neighbor had put condoms in the glove compartment in case this exact situation happened. Simon helped her into the backseat, so the magic could begin. They kissed like idiots because neither of them had ever done it before. They undressed as best they could in the square meter they were in. It was obvious what was going on because the car shook like a bouncy house, the windows were fogged up, and When a Man Loves a Woman was playing at full volume.

Simon drove Melanie home with her hair a mess, her elaborate dress placed wrong, and her lipstick ruined. Melanie kissed him on the cheek goodbye as soon as he opened the car door for her. She was about to get in her house when she shouted:

“This was the best night of my life!”

“I don’t know why that affected me so much. I stood there like an idiot watching her get in when I really wanted to tell her that it was also the best night of my life,” Ghost told you as soon as the song ended.

“Please tell me that you later became a couple, got married, had three children, and adopted a dog,” you begged him in the face of the adorable story.

“After graduation, I never saw her again.” You groaned at such a disappointing ending. “The last thing I heard from her is that she moved to London to study at university.”

“You never looked for her?” You asked, hopeful of a possible sequel.

“No. After high school I went to work at a butcher shop, and then I joined the army, so I lost contact with a lot of people.”

“How sad,” you murmured.

“Why is it sad?”

“Because it was obvious that you liked each other, and could have been a nice couple.”

“Sometimes there are people who are only destined to be a nice memory.” Ghost sighed.

“You're right.” You pressed your back against the shelf, careful that the earphone didn't come out of your ear. “Although I can't imagine you dancing to a slow song, I can't even imagine myself doing it.” 

“Have you never danced to a slow song?” Ghost asked you, surprised. You shook your head. “It's not that hard” He said before standing up.

“What are you doing?” You arched your eyebrow confused.

“I'll teach you” Ghost took your hands to help you up.

“Are you serious?” You asked, unable to believe it.

Ghost took the MP3 from you to play When a Man Loves a Woman again. He placed the earphone in your ear again so that both of you could listen to the song. One of his calloused hands pulled you by the waist to hold you close to his body, while the other wrapped around your hand. He ordered you to put your free hand on his shoulder and, like a good subordinate, you did.

“Now what?”.

“Just follow me,” Ghost whispered to you.

“Yes, sir,” you responded in the same way.

Ghost moved his feet from side to side, in a back and forth motion that went from his feet to his shoulders. You just followed his steps with a certain stiffness since this was your first time dancing so close to someone. He was right, it wasn't that hard when he was in control. The seductive sound of the guitar and the relaxed rhythm of the drums made you melt into your partner's body. You rested your head on his chest. One ear listened to the music and the other, the addictive rhythm of his heart inside his strong chest.

Ghost smiled at the warmth of your body. He placed his chin on your head as you slowly turned around the small place you shared in the world. He closed his eyes for a second to pretend you were in an elegant living room with a giant chandelier lighting your steps when in reality you were in a storage with a bare wire spotlight. Nothing mattered beyond the fact that Ghost enjoyed having someone to protect in his arms.

The MP3 player died in the middle of the ballad. With no music playing in the background anymore, you pulled away from each other. His hand longed for your touch as soon as you moved your hand away. You stretched your arms with a yawn, you were already sleepy after snuggling into his chest.

“I think I’ll go to sleep now,” you whispered.

“I’ll finish here,” Ghost offered.

You said goodnight to each other and left the storage to return to your bunk bed. Ghost took out his earphone, wrapped the cord around the MP3 and put it in his pocket. It had been a good night. He didn't hurt himself, he danced with a cute girl and found his old MP3 player.

Masterlist.

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Thanks for reading! <3

[roseworth]

Who do you think Rose's best friends in her age group are? Or should be?

well its a complicated question because i am in a constant battle with dc as to what her age group actually is. but everything i say is canon forever

first of all obviously i have to say bart allen. thats her bestie that is one of the only people she gives a shit about thats her buddy!!! ive said before that the real tragedy of bart & rose is that they just keep barely missing each other, because they meet when rose is too busy mourning her mom to make friends, then the next time they see each other is right before slade starts drugging her, then when she finally joins the team its right before bart gets aged up then dies (or whatever happened to him in oyl idk). then when they finally are on the same team at the same time the universe resets 2 weeks later :( but theyre still friends !! to me!!!! i dont care if its been 15 years theyre still besties ok

the next obvious one is eddie bloomberg <333 he is pretty much the only person on the teen titans that she consistently likes and he likes her :( she fights with literally everyone but eddie is always there for her AND always defends her when people come for her :(((( AND every time hes in danger she drops everything to find him and ouggghhgghh..... but she wasnt there when he died and we never actually get to see her reaction to his death and that kills me every day forever

anyways. sigh. the next one is jason. as much as i think he should stay away from her unfortunately they are besties and i love their dynamic 😔 i am never abandoning my "theyre just friends but she thinks its funny to pretend theyre fucking" headcanon which makes all their interactions so iconic to me. ive talked extensively about my thoughts on jayrose here so i wont go into it again but. as much as i fear for rose's characterization i DO love it when they interact </3 i want them to keep showing up together if their relationship stays ambiguous

NEXT. this one is a little bit less canon but still canon to me. connor hawke. in the secret version of robin 2021 in my head, connor & rose become besties on the island because theyre the "big kids" who are around the same age while damian & the others are like 14 so these two end up bonding. i also think rose would think it was awesome that connor was able to kill her so easily (bc the only other person who could was respawn and he only did it because he got a cheap shot while her back was turned) and then she'd be a little disappointed once she found out that connor actually doesnt kill anyone outside of the tournament. but shed still like him a lot i think bc she does tend to get along with people who dont like to kill. half the hero community looks at rose and goes "i could fix her" while she is actively making herself worse

also obviously i have to say cassie. its hard to consider them "friends" since theyre constantly fighting but i blame sean mckeever for that. theyre FRIENDS they actually do get along and so much of their arguments are really just flirting bickering :( their love language is being mean to each other but they actually do like each other ok!!!!! you have to believe me because i love them

and toni monetti!!! shoutout to the only female character rose has ever had only positive interactions with for more than 1 panel

and! i have a lot less evidence for these next few but its real to me

first of all mia dearden. they've had one interaction ever but that was enough to convince me they should be friends. this is so so important to me theyre besties and i know it

also stephanie brown. they've only been in the same room on panel once but i just know theyre secretly besties. and rose has called her cute so its yuri too

and finally. the one that i have the least evidence for is lorena marquez. you guys just have to believe me that they would be best friends. just knowing the two characters i just know they would get along so well if they were only given the chance... they could be haters together :(

anyways in conclusion rose needs more girl friends. most of the people she Actually gets along with are men and im sick and tired of it. let her make friends with girls. or better yet..... let her make out with girls