#where did they come from? I dunno just kinda showed up

[its-a-me-mango]

Mr puzzle How is your kid doing rn

Fantastic.

[violetarks]

third year! bakugou katsuki thinks it's pathetic how everyone tries to ask you to be their valentine while you stand absolutely awkwardly and oblivious to their advances.

he rolls his eyes, scoffing at how you tilt your head and ask 'what do you mean?' when a new second-year tries to confess through a heartfelt letter a week before valentines day. he's sitting in the cafeteria, a few tables away from you where you stand with your tray. his friends catch his line of sight and begin to watch too as you awkwardly take the letter and mention how it's your favourite colour, what a coincidence.

"man, poor y/n." kaminari sighs, "been getting bombarded with valentine's day proposals."

"acting like you werent one last year." sero snickers, elbowing the blonde, who replies with 'shut up!'.

"y/n, todoroki and momo have to be the most popular third years. i saw todoroki carrying a fruit arrangement yesterday with 'be my valentine' on some flags." mina states, drinking her orange juice.

jirou retorts, poking her food, "did you see y/n's shoe locker when they opened it? they were basically drowning in all those letters. and their desk was full of teddy bears and hearts and flowers."

"yaoyorozu told me that she felt so bad because she rejected someone who choreographed a flash mob for her." kirishima inputs, "but seriously, so many people have tried getting with y/n, it's insane."

katsuki only rolls his eyes again as you thank the person, who runs away giddily. you're so uninterested in the person that you just pocket it in your blazer for later. katsuki chuckles at the action before returning to his food.

he thinks it's so funny that everyone is fawning over you. he understood todoroki and yaoyorozu, they've been popular since day one. but you? what did anyone see in you?

"hey, bakugou, are you alright?" you ask, standing in front of him on the porch of the dormitory. it's now five days later and he blinks himself back to reality and swallows the lump in his throat. "you were kinda' just staring at me and that girl just then..."

it's true, he was. a first year, some lovesick teen girl, came to confess to you just then. you hold some chocolates in your hand and a bouquet of roses in another. your third this week, he tallies.

"i—i wasn't." he stammers, looking away. he was leaning against the pillar, watching you as he took in some fresh air. it was pure coincidence, he says. "what... did you tell 'em?"

"i felt a bit sorry, she cried a little when i said i'm not a fan of this kind of chocolate." you express, showing him the box. katsuki smirks. you were so blunt. "i still accepted it though, to make her feel better. i don't even know her, though."

"strange." he responds, staring at you, "so what now then?"

"do you want it?"

"i don't want your fucking confession candy." he scoffs, furrowed brows. he's irritated at the offer and you just tuck the chocolates underneath your arm. "why'd you say 'no'?"

"i... don't know her." you state as if it was obvious. he blinks and looks away. "i dunno', i've been getting asked a lot recently."

"that so?" it's so pathetic, how anyone would trip and fall at your feet at the slight chance to share valentine's day with you. he could think of a thousand things better to do tomorrow than spend it with you—

"how come you haven't asked me yet?" you inquire, pursing your lips, "to be your valentine?"

"hah?" he huffs out, making the most outraged expression on his face, "what the hell did you just say to me?"

you sigh, opening the entrance door with your new gifts, "nevermind."

he stares at you as you leave him alone on the porch. questions swirl in his mind, making him think about you even more. is this how you made so many admirers? you just... made them think about you? you were absolutely crazy.

that's got to me the most pathetic thing about valentine's day, right?

wrong.

katsuki annoyedly drops the chocolates that he knows for sure you love. and as he passes the flower section, oh god, the amount of time he spent trying to figure out which ones were the perfect ones. the cashier looks at him knowingly, wishing him 'goof luck' on his endeavour. katsuki scoffs and tells them to shut his mouth.

what's pathetic is that katsuki readies himself for asking you. now that he's got confirmation that you were expecting him to, he would do it. he is standing in front of your dorm door, holding the flowers and chocolates and teddy bear in his arms. he knows you have hundreds in your room right now, but... he's pathetic.

when his hand goes up to knock on your door, the elevator reaches the floor and opens to reveal you in the sports uniform.

you walk up, typing on your phone when you look up to your dorm to see him. "oh, hey."

"hey." he mumbles, trying his best to hide the presents behind his back, "went on a run?"

"no, quirk training, actually." you respond, unlockong your dorm. you walk in and turn your head. "did you need to talk to me?"

"well... i—"

"are those for valentine's day?" you point to the flowers that are badly hiden behind him.

katsuki grunts, finally revealing them, "y—yeah... i don't know how to do this."

"come in." you say, inviting him into your dorm. he nervously enters and closes the door behind him. you sit at our desk, leg over your knee, almost like you're inspecting him thoroughly. "so, who is it for?"

he stops. "huh?"

"i mean, who are you asking?" you mumble out. he doesn't know what to say. do you not remember asking him to ask you yesterday? "you're looking for advice, aren't you?"

suddenly, he's on the fire. he's in the position that he made fun of those other people for being in. and it fucking sucks.

it takes all his courage to sigh out, "no... no, you idiot. i'm asking you."

"wha—? me?" you point at yourself.

"yes! here!" he practically shoves them into your hands and steps away away. "i... want you to be my valentine tomorrow. please."

his harsh tone makes you rethink his statement. but katsuki sees a smile dawn on your face regardless, something the others who have asked you haven't seen.

"thank you, bakugou. i love them."

he knows damn well you do.

"i'd be happy to be your valentine." you confirm, standing up and placing the flowers on your desk. you put the chocolates and teddy on your bed, smiling the whole time. he gulps in anticipation, despite you already saying 'yes'. "thank you, truly. it's perfect."

katsuki clears his throat, hands in his pockets and he looks away, "'s nothin'."

you chuckle and step towards him, hand on his shoulder as you give him a gentle kiss on the cheek.

"whatever you say. where did you wann' go tomorrow?"

he thinks it's pathetic how on valentine's day, you drag him to all the couple stalls and events, and even do a hand-reading (katsuki lets out a sigh of relief when they said that you two are quite the perfect match), but when it's with you, it's a lot less embarrassing to do it. in fact, he'd relive this whole day again if he could.

what's pathetic is how all those people thought they could have this time with you, when all you ever wanted was bakugou katsuki himself.

[bonchobrick]

So I’ve seen some posts going around about a ‘Bruce adopts Danny and everyone thinks they’ll finally have a normal family member—Danny is very not normal’ and here’s my late night take on it.

Or

Danny batfam au where they batfam tries really hard to keep their vigilante ass-kicking nightlife a secret from danny because he is ‘the only normal one in the family’ this becomes a problem however when danny gets kidnapped.

——-

The batfam all work together in a deeply serious family meeting to save their boy. After hours of combining their brains together they come up with a plan that will effectively save danny from joker, kick joker’s ass, and also make them look really cool while doing it.

So they bust in that warehouse, guns blazing, explosions fading in the background, a gust of dramatic dust covers the air

Batman steps infront of the rest of the team and demands to the blurry figure somewhere in the distance, “Where is Danny!”

The dust clears–they expect bad guys pointing weapons meancingly at them, they expect a cackle of a wicked clown amused at whatever plot he had planned coming to life, they expected a terrified boy perhaps tied somewhere likely siting in a chair that joker could present to the bats as a way of taunting them.

The dust settles–they observed their surroundings looking around and realize that, there are few new facts to be added into this ‘defeat the villain, get the bro, happy ending equation’

There is decidedly no weapons being pointed at them: In fact, all of the henchmen are already knocked out and tied up.

There is decidedly no evil laughs being echoed their way: In fact, the only noise that isnt coming from them is a light scritch scratch of a pencil

And there is decidedly no terrified little boy, there is a Danny however and he seems to be doing alright–actually scratch that.

Danny is doing wonders for the situation he’s in right now: In fact–

–Danny is sitting criss cross applesauce on-top a knocked out tied up Joker doing his algebra homework

The small blue eyed boy looks up at Batman's voice and visibly brightens, “Oh hey guys, I was wondering when you’d show up.”

Jason says with the utmost of comprehension, “...what.”

“So hi, I’m kinda new to gotham so sorry about beating these guys up, I think they’re villains? I dunno, anyways if you could take care of these guys while I call an uber home that’d be great.”

Danny sends them a blinding smile which would've been adorable if there weren’t a massive pile of bodies he were casually walking away from.

As Danny nears the exit he looks over his shoulder to the baffled group of vigilantes and blinks

“Oh yeah one last thing,” Danny rubs the back of his neck nervously, “Could you guys not tell the Waynes about this.”

Damian speaks up for the rest of his frozen family, albeit hesitantly, “I do think they have already been alerted of your kidnapping.”

“Oh no that's fine.” Danny starts nervously, “It's more about me being the… fighter… in this situation. I was just adopted by them and they seem really nice, I don’t want to scare them away being all grrrr im a scary monster boy and i love to hurt people argh.”

“I don’t think they’d think you're a monster.” Tim adds quietly

“Eh, tell that to my birth parents–they went psycho on me. Like evil scientist psycho, it was not as awesome as the movies make it sound, having scientists for parents.” Danny says bittersweet as he admits with a shrug

There is a moment of silence as the batfamily reevaluate the adoption file that states Danny’s family before they passed were very good people–albeit a bit excentric.

Dick blurts out, “Where did you learn to fight?”

Danny sends him an anxious chuckle, “I actually started when I was fourteen–my town always ran into some trouble so I had to step up. It’s part of the reason I moved here actually. I really don’t want anything to do with that hero vigilante life anymore…” The boy puts his hands together in a pleading motion, “So please don’t tell The Waynes!”

Bewildered at the situation as a whole they nod in a daze

The boys eyes widen at their easy agreement and he grins, “Thank you so so much! I’ve got to go now, it’s way past my curfew. but you’ll probably see me again next time I get kidnapped–I’ll make sure to put in a good word for you guys with my family bye!”

And just like that Danny slips off into the night leaving behind a family who were so sure they finally found a normal addition to their pack.

Jason sighs looking forlornly at the spot Danny had previously been standing, “You could just never pick the just semi-mentally healthy normal kids could you?”

Bruce groans pinching his the bridge of his nose

[ennabear]

⭑ SYMPATHY IS A KNIFE ⋆˚ ༘ *

ʕっ•ᴥ•ʔっ themes of jealousy, porn w/ plot, ellie is lowkey a bad gf (she makes up for it in the end i swear), hate sex w rockstar!ellie, dom!r, brat!ellie (heh, get it?), slapping + spanking, ruined orgasm, based on sympathy is a knife by charli xcx, somewhat projecting here because i’m an insecure overthinker oops, brat summer challenge entry for my oomfies, check out everyone else’s entries and consider joining the server!! fank yewwwwq!!! 18+

🍏 wc: 2.5k ++ divider creds

✮ don’t wanna see her backstage at my girlfriend’s show. ✮

the crowd was crushing you from all sides, a wave of sweaty, drunk strangers all packed tightly together. girls surrounding you were wearing short skirts and low-cut tops, all cheering for your girlfriend.

your girlfriend.

this was one of the cons of dating a rockstar, sure ellie made lots of money, sure you were her one and only muse, sure she only had eyes for you, didn’t she? but this enraged you, the way they all screamed at her like you weren’t even there. begging her to take her shirt off, play them a song, and especially the way she always followed their orders.

you sigh, turning around to squeeze to the back of the crowd, muttering a few ‘scuse me’s and ‘pardon’s. the smell of sweat and weed infects your lungs, causing you to cover your face with your elbow. stumbling over your feet, you finally land on a barstool, asking the bartender for a glass of ice water. ellie notices your absence, scanning the crowd for you, her gaze being met with thirsty glances all around.

the cool water soothes the rage boiling in your stomach ever so slightly. your heart is still pounding, hands shaking, feet tapping the floor. thoughts of self-hatred plague your mind at a million miles per hour, a wild voice that tears you completely apart…

“where the hell did you go?” ellie’s annoyed voice cuts through your mind. you jump.

“sorry,” you trail off. “i got too hot.”

“man… you should’ve seen the way those girls in the front row were screaming.” she beams, a glistening smile creeping up on her expression. “almost blew the fuckin’ roof off.”

you don’t respond to this, instead looking down into your drink and swirling the ice around with your straw. “you gonna come backstage?” she asks. “or sit here and pout.”

“i dunno, els. i’m kinda ti-” she cuts you off by pinching the apple of your cheek, grinning at you like you’re a trophy. a grammy, in her mind. “knew you’d say yes.”

another wave of rage crashes over you, a chill running down your spine. ellie’s tattooed hands grab your wrists, dragging you with her as if you’re a lost puppy. you don’t let it get to you though, letting it simmer as she drags you from the bar, and trying to ignore it once you slump onto the cracked leather couch.

maybe it’s just the sour mood you’re in, but the sudden change of environment makes your stomach churn. the paint chipping off of the walls makes your skin crawl, the lights surrounding the mirror are faded and yellow, the air in the room is stale and smells of body odor and piss. it’s uncomfortable all around.

ellie doesn’t notice this, of course. too lost in her own jabber about the show to pay any mind to you. a knock on the door halts your thoughts again. “ellie?” someone asks.

“yeah?” she calls back, throwing her shirt into her bag and lighting a cigarette.

“are ‘ya decent? i brought a few girls from the pit. they’re gonna kill me if you don’t open this door.”

your jaw falls open involuntarily. the audacity strikes you in your burning heart. the audacity. the audacity to shove other girls in ellie’s face while she barely even loves you.

once again, ellie pays no mind to this, swinging the door open and presenting her bare chest to the small group of girls peeking in from the hallway. your jaw clenches, you wish so badly she would say no for once. that she would forget about the fame and the money and take you on a god damn date.

in a moment of defeat, you cross your fingers behind your back. praying to some god, any god, that this moment ends soon. and with your luck, it doesn’t. you’re cramped in this small, crappy room, watching the love of your life converse with girls who are so much prettier than you.

and they’re so much prettier. they all have silky hair that cascades down their backs and and finishes with a little curl. expensive earrings and bracelets, full faces of completely untouched makeup, not even a single smudge or stain. shoes that cost more than your house, perfume that smells better than the bouquets of flowers ellie used to buy for you. you couldn’t even be them if you tried.

laughter breaks out between ellie and the girls. she nudges you in the side as a hint to start laughing along, but you bite your lip and look down, twiddling your thumbs in your lap. you can’t hear anything, so jealous you feel like you might faint.

ellie smiles and stands up, patting you on the knee as she does. you don’t follow, instead watching through blurred vision as she ushers the girls out of the door. tears fall from your eyes and you grimace, holding your head in your hands and starting to sob.

“do you wanna tell me what the fuck just happened?” she asks, eyebrows furrowing in anger. you don’t respond. you can’t. how are you supposed to tell her you’ve been spiraling because she’s been eye-fucking other girls? when she hasn’t even kissed you in days? and when was the last time she said i love you? why hasn’t she noticed?

“hello?” she shouts. “what the fuck is going on with you? why haven’t you been talking to me?”

“why haven’t i been talking to you? i don’t know, maybe because you’re too busy feeling up other girls in front of me?” you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. your eyeliner is streaming down your face, and suddenly your band tee and jeans feel improper.

“when’s the last time you’ve asked me about my day, ellie? i talk to you all the time. i help you write songs, i listen to you talk about your gigs, i clean your ass up when you come home drunk out of your mind.” you trail off, looking up at her to see a broken, almost confused look.

“you can’t at least pretend to appreciate the things i do for you?” she scowls, cornering you in the small dressing room. “you can’t even grit your teeth and fucking lie in front of my band? in front of my friends? i work my ass off providing for both of us and i don’t even get a thank you?”

“you don’t mean it…” you sob, absolutely sure that anyone outside of this room can hear the screaming match between you two. ellie scowls, your favorite green eyes are no longer soft and reassuring, but instead sharp. dangerous, almost.

“why do i have to share the space, ellie? did i do something wrong? did i-” you’re cut off by the door slamming shut. the mirror rattles behind you, shaking your reflection for a second.

what do you do now, sit here and cry? or will that only make it worse? a knock on the door soothes your racing heart. “you okay in there?” it was ellie’s assistant, the same guy who rounded up those girls earlier. “i- yeah?” your voice shakes as you answer. you go so cold.

he enters the room, sitting on the chair next to you. “we’re packing up the busses. you’d better hurry up before we leave you here.” how could you be mad at him? some sweet old guy who cares about you more than ellie does. you pinch the bridge of your nose, a headache starting to form. “i don’t know if i belong here anymore.”

the comfort isn’t much, but you’ll take what you can get right now. you let a few tears fall, tear ducts already exhausted and drained. “don’t cry, kiddo. you’re both still young, she’s just going through something right now.”

somehow, this makes it worse. your cheeks heat up, that same anger stirring in your veins. “cmon, let me walk you out before they forget us both.” he laughs, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as you exit through the back of the building.

ellie is waiting for you in her bus, wearing an old beat up tank top and some sweats. she refuses to meet your eyes, her newly reformed ego letting her think that she’s too good to give an apology. you quickly change clothes, replacing your band tee with a sports bra and scrubbing off your smudged eyeliner.

she comes up behind you as you wash your face, completely ignoring you as she picks up a pair of scissors and starts snipping at her shaggy hair. the bathroom suddenly feels too small, like the walls are closing in on you. “so you’re still too good for an apology?” you ask.

“sorry.” she mumbles monotonously.

you turn and look at her. no, you glare at her. the attitude she’s had lately is almost jarring. here your once sweet, loving girlfriend stands. neglecting you for months, complaining to her friends about you, making you cry, embarrassing you in front of everyone she knows. this isn’t like her at all.

that rage boils up inside of you again. red-hot, vicious anger that scorches your insides and washes over you like a violent midnight hurricane. before you can even think, the palm of your hand is smacking her at lightning speed. her jaw falls open involuntary, eyes piercing into you.

that felt good. so, so good. you wiped that smug off of her face real quick. with your hand still raised, you grab her by the neck of her shirt— ripping a hole into the thin, flimsy fabric— and bend her over the sink.

“this’s how you wanna treat me, huh?” you laugh, out of exhaustion or relief, you aren’t sure. her pants slip off as soon as you tug them down, palming her bush beneath her boxers before you snag them off too.

“i- i’m…” she stammers. “i’m sorr-!!” you cut her off, pulling her back by the roots of her hair.

“i’ll show you how it fucking feels.” you punctuate this by sending your hand down to slap her ass, leaving a glowing red handprint on her pale skin. she grips the sink, whining loudly at the smack but deciding not to talk back, she might make it worse.

“that hurt?” you tease, rubbing over the area you hit. ellie bites her lip, not wanting to admit that it stung. she heaves a sigh, muttering a quick no.“no? not yet? guess we’ll have to go harder.” you smirk evilly. she gasps at this, but it’s too late. now she’s wincing at the slap, back arching into you as you palm at her ass.

“please!!” she begs. “i’m sorry! i’m so sorry!!” tears roll down her face, she looks just as pathetic as you did back in that dressing room. “what would those other girls think if they saw you like this right now?”

she doesn’t answer, instead her cheeks turn a bright beet red. one of your hands lifts her head up by her hair, angling her face to catch a glimpse of herself in the mirror. she can’t help but gawk at her expression, tears rolling down her face, lips pink and sore from being chewed on.

“one more? or are you gonna apologize now.” her lips pull back into a grimace at the thought of getting another smack from one of your heavy hands.

“i’m sorry.” she admits shyly. “i’ve been an asshole. i’m sorry and i mean it.” you slide two fingers into her dripping hole as she spews out her apology. she groans, gripping onto your wrist that just released itself from her scalp.

the pleasure soon overtakes the pain, and the stinging of her ass goes almost numb as your fingers reach deeper than ever. her lips quiver as she tries to hold back her moans, cunt practically sucking your fingers in.

her eyes roll back into her head as you pound into her, slick dripping down your fingers and wrist. she looks pathetic like this. now her own makeup is smudged and runny, she’s the one begging for forgiveness. “ohh, god, please!! right there.” she sputters, eyebrows furrowing as she gets closer and closer to finishing.

it doesn’t take much to please her, with two fingers massaging her g-spot and your teeth in her neck, she’s about to cum her brains out. she doesn’t, though. as soon as you notice the telltale twitch of her thighs, you pull your fingers out. she groans at the loss, cunt squeezing and clenching, desperately trying to get off without you.

“is that how you like it now? being neglected and completely left in the dark?” her head shakes, she wants to scream at you for ruining this for her, but she knows deep down that she deserves it. “keep going, please. i swear i’ll be so good. isweariswearisw-” you yawn, helping her pull her boxers back on.

“i dunno, ellie. i’m not sure you deserve it yet.” you sigh. “plus, i’m kinda sleepy.” once she’s dressed, you turn to leave. sliding the door shut behind you and flopping onto the small bed in the back of the trailer.

ellie takes a second to sit and think, and now she really realizes what she’s done. that her ego and crave for fame has gotten in the way of her love. as soon as your hands left her body, it was like she could feel herself losing you in real time.

the faucet squeaks as she turns the handle, splashing some cold water on her cheeks, and it mixes with her tears. what if you leave her? what if you leave her and it’s her fault? what if you showed her countless signs that you were feeling unloved and she completely ignored it? did she do that? now it’s her turn to spiral, to fall down the rabbit hole of insecurity and have to claw herself out with no support at all.

her body is starting to overheat, she peels her sweaty shirt off and throws it in front of her, soothing herself with the cold tile on the floor. she realizes how distant she’s been, how much she’s taken you for granted. maybe sympathy isn’t a knife, it’s a double-edged sword.

a few painful minutes later, she exits the bathroom and lays down beside you, curling into your side and sighing heavily. you can sense her unpleasant mood, but you still don’t really feel bad for her. not after how she’s made you feel.

and then she sits up and she kisses you for the first time in months. a real kiss, not a peck or a bite. her lips press against yours, she tastes the same, sweet and a little bit throaty. soft lips roam around yours, remembering how it feels to be intimate in such a way. to be loved. “i’m sorry.” she whispers on top of your lips. “i really am. do i get another chance?”

maybe sympathy isn’t a knife, it’s a double-edged sword.

[heartz4shauna]

everything good happens after midnight ᯓᡣ𐭩

pairing: art donaldson x popstar!reader

warnings: divorced art, mentions of a failed marriage, lily lowkey being cupid, alcohol use, small timeskips, set in 2019, minor swearing, small age gap (r is 24, art is 31), forced proximity?, tension, making out, slight height difference (not specified), written kinda weird i dunno how to explain it, unironic use of the word ‘girlboss’, not proofread

word count: 4.3k

a/n: be a freak in the club !!! ty chappell roan for the inspo xxx also please don’t flame me for this guys. i’ve never written a full fic for a man b4, had to google some words, had to pull out my pinterest board titled ‘writing stuff’ for this one, my longest fic ever!!! let’s clap xx

disclaimer: i am a minor, if what i write makes you uncomfortable knowing that i’m a minor dni!!! don’t complain to me because i can do what i want okay thank you bye x

The time on your phone read 8:27P.M. You sat backstage, fixing up your makeup and warming up your voice for the show you were about to start. All you could hear from the crowd behind the curtain was screams and chatter.

Your manager came up to you at your vanity, he cleared his throat before he spoke, “On in two minutes.” You looked back at him and gave him a nod as you stood up, flattening your short leather skirt and most beautifully designed corset.

Your manager came back to you, microphone in hand and gave it to you, “You got it, you’ll be great.” He gave you a wink and you nodded, walking onto the stage.

As you stepped out onto the stage you put on your persona, that bubbly, energetic singer that all of your fans knew and loved. You waved to the huge crowd of people and spoke into the microphone loudly, “How are we doing tonight?!”

All around you, you heard cheers and screams which made you smile. You waited a minute for the cheers to die down before you spoke again, “y’know, that’s real good to hear. It’s my first show here, did you know that?” you asked the crowd. You heard replies of “no!” and “really?!” You nodded, a cheeky grin on your face, “I know, I know. But, that’s a good thing. I’ve got a real special show prepared for y’all tonight,” you announced to the crowd, pacing around the stage slowly.

Cheers instantly filled your ears, fans excited to see what you had to show them. One fan in particular, a tall man with blonde hair caught your eye. He was smiling down at someone shorter, maybe his daughter, and pointed at the stage, telling her what was happening. You nodded to yourself, “alright! Well, I can tell you all we’re gonna start with a banger. Not that I’m biased or anything..” you mumbled into the microphone which caused the venue to erupt in laughter. As your band was already on stage, the instrumental to a popular song of yours began playing and you smiled, “I hope y’all know this one. I’d be embarrassed if you didn’t,” you winked just before you counted yourself into the song.

2 HOURS LATER

“You guys were such an amazing crowd, I’m so glad this was my first show here! Y’all really didn’t hold back on that last song,” you chuckled as you spoke to the crowd. You reached for your bottle of water and sipped from it, rubbing your neck, “hey! I may or may not be doing merch signing at the back exit..” you whispered into the microphone, wiggling your eyebrows, “be there!” Now, that wasn’t entirely true. Sure, you wanted to do a signing after your show but was it planned? No.. But, in your defence you wanted to see if that blonde guy would come to the back, exchange numbers maybe… Huh? Who are you kidding, he probably has a wife! Who’s also probably waiting for them at home, it is pretty late. You checked your watch; 10:38P.M. Probably way past their daughters bed time, too. Gosh.

You waved goodbye to the crowd, blowing kisses. As soon as you got backstage you tried to find your manager. Where was he? Right. Where he always is, the bar backstage. Better not talk to him while he was drunk, so you told your assistant manger instead. Sweet girl, unfortunate she’s a lower rank than that asshole of a man. “Hey, love. Um, I know we have to get going back to the hotel soon, but I told the crowd I was signing stuff at the back exit. Can you cover for me if Sam asks?”

Your assistant manager nodded, writing what you said down on her clipboard, “got it. Why can’t you talk to him yourself, though? Just wondering, it’s not an attack on you,” she asked with a chuckle. You sighed, looking down at your feet, “He’s in the bar. He’s probably drunk. I don’t wanna have to deal with him right now.” Your assistant manager nodded, clapping you on the back, “not a problem. I’ll go talk to him,” and with that, she left you. All you had to do now was say hi to a few people, sign some things and be on your way.

You made your way to the back exit of the venue, weaving in and out through wires and auxiliaries. Pushing the fire exit open, you were met with tens of smiling faces, pens at the ready. Oh, alright. Tonight’s gonna be a long night. Squeals could probably be heard from states away as you made eye contact with a few fans. “Oh, my God! Can you sign this for me please?!” Pens and paper were pushed into your face, barely getting any room to breathe. A security guard would be nice right about now, you thought.

You took a deep breath before you spoke, almost shouting, “sorry, if you would like me to sign something or take a photo, please be patient. There’s a lot of y’all, and one of me. Imma take my time with all of y’all, make it special. Is that alright?”

You were met with nods and replies of “yes!”, “sorry!” and “alright!” You sighed in relief, “Okay, good. If you want, you can form a line.” Fans struggled against each other, pushing and shoving to be first in line. Surprisingly, a small teenage girl made it first in line, despite the shoving. You smiled brightly at her, making casual conversation, “hi, what’s your name?” She replied in a whisper, “it’s Julianne.” You nodded, humming, “that’s a beautiful name. Do you want to take a photo or do you want me to sign something for you?” Julianne nodded, her hands quickly going to her pockets for her phone. “Can we take a picture?” she asked kindly and you replied, “of course we can, sweetie,” with a chuckle.

She opened up the camera app and readied herself for the photo, posing casually. You followed her lead, a peace sign on your fingers as you winked at the camera. As soon as the picture was taken she quickly turned back to you, hugging you. “Oh!” you almost yelped, obviously not expecting the sudden embrace, but hugged her back anyway. “It was great to meet you,” you whispered to her before she waved goodbye and left.

45 MINUTES LATER

After making your way through almost every fan, you were left standing with two people. A little girl and her father, the tall blonde man who had caught your eye. You smiled at the pair, “last two, huh?” you chuckled. “Anything to sign?” The man nodded, “she’s a little shy,” he gestured to his daughter, “she’s always talking about you at home,” he added with a chuckle. “Anyway, could you sign this?” he asked, grabbing what looked like a CD case out of a backpack slung over his daughters shoulder. He handed you the case, “don’t ask.”

You looked down at the case in your hands and your eyes brightened, “Spiderverse? I like that movie too,” you said to the little girl. You pulled out the Sharpie from your hair, conveniently hidden away, and pressed it to the case. Fuck. It’s wasted. Your face dropped in embarrassment, “I’m so sorry,” you chuckled lightheartedly, “my pen’s wasted. Have either of y’all got one?”

The man sighed heavily, “I’ve got one in the car. I’ll go get it, I’ll be right back, sweetie,” he told his daughter before he jogged away to his car. You looked down at the girl, “what’s your name?” you asked curiously, she looked up at you, her big brown eyes shining, “Lily.” You nodded, “that’s a beautiful name, Lily. What about your dad, do you know his name?” Lily nodded, “mhm. His name is Art.” You chuckled, not expecting such a name. “Wow, cool name, huh?”

Art returned, pen in his hand. “Here you go,” he smiled, handing the pen to you. You took it, popped off the cap and quickly signed the case. Lily took the case from your hands, a great big smile on her face, “thank you!” Art smiled down at her, and then at you, “thank you so much,” he said, taking the pen from you. “Hey, just out of curiosity, what hotel are you staying at tonight?” Art asked you, taking his daughter’s hand in his, “we could give you a ride. If we’re lucky enough, we might be staying in the same place.” You thought to yourself, do I let this hot man I don’t know bring me back to my hotel, leaving my team completely unaware as to where I am or do I decline and leave with my team? Tricky question.. You shrugged, “I’m staying at the Black Bird Plaza, do you know it?” Arts face lit up and he chuckled, “yeah, I do. We’re staying there as well.”

Your eyes widened slightly, “oh, wow. Y’all are lucky, huh?” Art nodded, a smirk on his face, “do you wanna get a drink at the bar?” Never one to say no to a drink, you nodded. “Great! Guess I’ll be your chauffeur for tonight,” he added.

“C’mon,” he said finally as he began walking to his car and you followed. “Are y’all from around here? I assume not.” Art shook his head, “no, we’re not from here. A few states over. Lily saw you weren’t coming to our city, so we traveled.” You chuckled, respecting the dedication, “big fan.” “You have no idea,” he replied.

Art unlocked his car and opened the door for you, “thank you,” you smiled, sitting in the passenger seat. Buckling yourself in, he helped Lily into the back, “do you need help putting on your seatbelt or are you good?” Lily declined, buckling her own seatbelt like the girlboss that she is. Art nodded, and got into the drivers seat.

10 MINUTES LATER

Art parked his car in the hotel parking lot and helped both you and Lily out of the car. You checked your watch, 11:25 P.M. You turned to Art as you all entered the lobby, “wouldn’t the bar be closed by now?” you asked. He shook his head, pressing the button for the elevator, “don’t worry about it. I’m liked around here.” You laughed at his certainty, “alright then.” The three of you entered the elevator as the doors opened, “Lily, we’re gonna sit at the bar for.. maybe an hour, okay? I’ll turn on the T.V. for you, just don’t leave the room and don’t open the door for anyone, got it?”

Lily nodded, “mhm. Can I have a snack from the mini fridge?” Art looked at you and you both chuckled, “of course you can, sweetie,” he told Lily. He pulled his room key out of his pocket when the elevator doors opened. Two young ladies were standing, waiting for the elevator and saw you. Their faces instantly lit up, “Oh. My. God!” one of the girls chuckled out, “can we get a picture?” You nodded, selling out of the elevator, “of course!” Art and Lily followed, he nudged you, “gonna go to the room. We’re in room 276.” You nodded, and just as he was going to leave one of the girls spoke tremulously, “wait! You, too. You’re my dad’s favourite tennis player, he’d be so stoked to know I met him.”

Your eyebrows creased together as you looked back at him, “tennis player?” He shrugged, an awkward smile on his face, “yeeeah?” He walked back over to you and the girls, leaving Lily to fend for herself and smiled for the pictures. The girls giddily spoke to each other after the pictures, “this has to go onto my Instagram. My actual popstar idol and a super hot tennis player? I’ll literally go viral.” You and Art shared a glance and knowingly smiled at each other.

The girls entered the elevator, still excitedly chatting. You noticed that Lily wasn’t next to Art anymore, “oh, no. Where did Lily go?” Art brushed you off, “she’s probably already waiting for us outside the room. She’s used to having a famous dad,” he gloated sarcastically. “Uh-huh,” you nodded with a scoff.

You followed him back to his room where Lily was standing safe and sound, she leaned her head against the door tiredly. Art rapped on the door, “wake up, Lily.” She lifted her head up from the door, “I’m awake, dad.” He unlocked the door and pushed it open. Lily ran in and sat in front of the mini fridge, rummaging through the snacks. Art allowed you inside before he followed. You glanced around the room, pretty big room for two people, you thought. Lily picked out her snack and walked over to Art, “I’m gonna have this one.” He looked down at her and nodded, “go ahead.” She gave him a hug and he kissed her gently on the cheek, “you going to bed?” he asked her and she nodded. “Good. It’s way past your bedtime,” he responded lightly. “We’re going to the bar, we’ll be back up soon, okay? Love you.” They waved goodbye and you both left the room.

Art began walking down the hall and you asked him, “you can trust her to set her sleep there alone?” He nodded, pressing the elevator button, “she’s a big girl. She’ll be safe, don’t worry.”

The doors opened slowly and you stepped inside. Art looked at you curiously as he followed you, “you are over 21, aren’t you?” You chuckled, “you didn’t do your research. I’m 24, so yeah. I’m legal.” Art scoffed, “alright, sue me. I just wanted to make sure, okay?” The doors closed and suddenly you felt claustrophobic. No, the elevator wasn’t small, there was enough room to breathe. So, why couldn’t you? Was it the fact that you were in a concealed space with a super hot dilf- I mean, super cool tennis player? Shit, probably. You looked at your watch to try and calm your nerves, you seemed to do that a lot. The time was 11:48 P.M.

You scratched your neck before speaking, “I didn’t bring my purse. You are planning on paying for these drinks right?” He frowned mockingly, “oh. Well, I guess you can just go back to your room.” You let out a sigh of relief, “yeah, okay. Just checking.” “It’s only gentlemanly,” he started, “how should I ask a pretty woman out to drinks and not pay? That’s just rude.”

You scoffed, ignoring just how flustered that statement made you, “oh, nice. Smooth, even.” The doors creaked open and he stepped out, shrugging, “I thought that was good,” his words echoed through the empty lobby. The sound of your heels on the marble floor mocked his words as they echoed after him.

The elevator was only a few steps away from the bar and yet it felt miles away. Once you crossed the threshold you sighed with relief, a heavy weight taken off your shoulders suddenly. Art guided you to a small table next to a window, the lights dim and seats soft. You gave him a smile, “what do you drink?” he asked. Oh. What do you drink? Did you know you’ve been sober for over a year? Now you know! “Just get me a whiskey coke,” you blurted out. He raised an eyebrow at you, “you sure that’s what you want?” You shook your head, a frown on your face, “I dunno, get me something sweet, I guess.”

He gave you a nod, “you got it.” He walked over to the bar and leaned on his elbows as he spoke to the barman. What you heard could only be described as ‘acquaintances who have a semi mutual friend who is never around so conversation is hard to get flowing and is usually awkward. so, communication is normally short nods, mumbles and thanks’. He came back over to the table, two drinks in hand; a beer and a… Shirley Temple? Your eyebrows creased as you looked up at him, “seriously?” He waved you off, “Dirty Shirley,” he claimed, setting the drinks onto the table. “Oh.” You grabbed your drink and sipped it cautiously, he took a seat opposite you.

You tasted the drink warily, and nodded to yourself. “It’s good,” you mumbled. He snickered, “it’s just a Shirley with vodka, it’s nothing special.” You shrugged, swallowing a sip, “so? It’s good. What’d you get?” You turned his beer bottle to face you, ‘Carlsberg’ is what the label read. “Any good?” you asked him. “It’s fine, used to drink it in college.” Ah. You nodded, “nostalgic, huh?” He shrugged, “I guess.”

Suddenly, a few questions popped into your head. “Should’ve asked this earlier, how old are you?” He sighed, setting down his beer, cleared his throat, “32.” You nodded, kind of expecting him to be older, “alright, not bad,” you half-shrugged. “Do you.. have a wife?” He froze up a little. Oh. “Uh, no.” Frown on your lips you asked, “really? You’re a good looking man and you’re an athlete, it’s kinda hard to believe,” you laughed softly. “Hm. Relationships don’t work out sometimes,” he replied, taking a swig of his beer. “Tell me about it,” you reciprocated, rolling your eyes.

He cleared his throat, trying to move from the subject, “anyway. You been singing long?” You sipped your drink before answering, “I guess, yeah. I was in choir in middle school, so. I’ve always had ‘the talent’, y’know? But, I’ve been a singer since.. what is it now? 2014? So, five years going strong, give or take a few months.” He grinned from ear to ear, clearly very impressed, “wow. Long time, huh? You don’t get bored?” You sipped your drink and squinted at him, shaking your head, “don’t you get bored of tennis?” He made an iffy face, as if he didn’t really know the answer to your question.

“Hmmmmm…” you hummed as you looked at him sideways, “we’re very different, I see.” Pretty much after gulping the rest of your drink down you asked him one more question, “how old is Lily?” “She’s 8,” Art answered with a stiff nod. “She’s a good kid. You’re a good dad, too.” Art made a somewhat uncomfortable noise but thanked you anyhow.

“Sorry, that was kinda sudden,” you chuckled. “That’s alright, I appreciate it. I’ll grab you another drink,” he responded, standing up from his seat. Another less than acquaintanced conversation between Art and the barman. Jeez. You could feel the anxiousness of the conversation from your seat.

He came back over, another Dirty Shirley in hand and gave it to you. “Thanks,” you began sipping your drink again. “Barman’s closing up in 5, you’ll have to drink that fast,” Art told you lingering at the table, rather than sitting down. He picked up his beer and started drinking it a little faster than what would be considered a ‘normal’ beer drinking pace. You gave a nod and started uncomfortably gulping down your drink. You placed the glass on the table once you finished, fishing for the maraschino cherry at the bottom.

You got up from the table, pushing your chair in before you left the bar. Walking back to the elevator you tried to make conversation with Art, “thanks for the drinks. Haven’t had one of those before, they’re good.” “Not a problem,” he replied, pressing the elevator button.

The doors opened instantly and you both stepped in, ladies first. The doors closed slowly as you stood face to face with him. The slight smell of alcohol filling the elevator was gross. Slightly intoxicating. The elevator stopped suddenly with a jolt. Art sighed, “we’re stuck.” You groaned, “seriously? Does this happen often?” He nodded, eyes widened slightly, “oh, yeah. Fantastic hotel, super old elevators. It’s sad.” “Is there an emergency bell for things like this?” You asked, examining the buttons which read: ‘0, 1, 2, 3, 4’. Four floors and no emergency button? Jesus Christ.

He shook his head, “nope. We just have to wait it out. Usually takes ten minutes for assistance.” You looked at your watch again, 12:07 P.M. What’s a better way to pass the time than make a move? Probably a lot. But that just didn’t register in the moment. You never really mastered the whole flirting thing, usually you weren’t the one to shoot your shot. Clearly, you liked this guy. Maybe he liked you, too? What’s an invite out to drinks with a stranger? Basically a date.

“You look nice,” you finally got out, looking at his shoes. His brows furrowed and he chuckled, “are you trying to make conversation or are you trying to flirt?” Fuck, he caught you out. Play it cool. “Uh, no. Obviously not, we’re just stuck here, in this elevator, and I noticed you look nice, is that okay?” You said quickly. Art chuckled, running a hand through his hair like the dream boat that he is- who said that? “Look, we both know why I invited you for a drink. I think you’re pretty fine, and I know you think the same about me,” he stated, giving you a look.

You squinted at him, “it’s rude that you think so highly of yourself..” your complaint was cut short as Art pressed his lips against your quickly which made your eyes widen to the heavens. He pushed himself away from you just as quickly as he pulled himself to you. “Sorry,” he mumbled with a chuckle, “I should’ve asked you.” You shook your head quickly before forcing your lips back onto his in a desperate attempt to feel what you felt when he first kissed you. Did that catch him off guard? No, not really. He knew you’d kiss him back anyway, he’s Art Donaldson, he does fine for himself and he knows it.

You pressed a kiss to his neck which caused a choked moan to escape his lips. Now, that caught you off guard. He plays tennis, he should have a lot of practice trying to keep grunts in when he plays, right? Maybe you’re just that good. Props to you. Well, now you knew; his neck is the Jackpot. So, you abused the fuck out of his neck. Not literally. But continuously kissing his neck, biting it even and hearing him whine did wonderful things for your ego.

His hands made their way to your waist and pulled you impossibly closer to him and you groaned as you took a breather, “your lips feel nice on mine,” you told him, a smirk playing on your lips. “Don’t be such a tease,” he warned breathlessly, to which you replied, “or what? You gonna whine again?” He rolled her eyes, his tongue prodding at his cheek in faux annoyance. You were about to kiss him again when the doors creaked open and outside stood a trio of firefighters who stared blankly at you both, “alright in here?” one of them asked to which Art replied with a nod. “We’re going up..” you mumbled, unsure of yourself. The firefighter who had spoken before nodded and said “should be safe. Have a good night.”

Art quickly pressed the button and the doors slammed shut. Giggles escaped you as the elevator began to move again to which Art nudged you. “What? That was pretty funny, don’t lie,” you responded to his antics. The elevator doors opened and alas, you finally made it to your floor. You held your hand out for him to take in which he obliges, following you out of the elevator like a dog on a leash.

He took the room key out of his pocket and unlocked the door slowly to not wake up Lily. You pushed the door to the master bedroom open and took off your heels, softly setting them down near a bedside table. Art walked in after you and sat on the bed, anxiously waiting for your next move. You left the room and entered the bathroom. You let the water run in the sink for about a minute before splashing your face with the cold water. Making an attempt to dry your face you ended up leaving a huge makeup stain on a towel. Oops.

While you were in the bathroom, you decided to take off your show outfit, leaving you in your bra and panties. Too little? Oh well. You left the bathroom, your clothes in a pile on the corner. Re-entering the bedroom, Art was still getting changed himself. You quickly left to give him some privacy and grabbed your phone from the bathroom sink, where you left it while getting changed. Knocking on the bedroom door softly, Art called back to you, “come in.”

He sat under the covers, his bare shoulders exposed which were covered in scars. Smiling at him, you climbed in next to him, placing your phone onto a bedside table. It lit up as it was placed, the clock read 12:36 P.M. He moved next to you, wrapping his arms around you as you shut your eyes.

9 HOURS LATER

You were awoke by the sound of your phone buzzing against the table, hundreds of notifications flooding your phone. Quickly, your eyes adjusted to the screen, images of you and Art with two fans in a hotel went viral, just like the lady said. Your manager spammed your phone, ‘are you serious? do you know what this could do for your image??? please tell me you didn’t sleep with him.’ You turned over and there Art was, completely sound asleep.

tags: @midwestprincesss @yourcoolguitargf

[swee7dream]

hi vixy! i miss you sm 😞🫶 being here is just not the same when i'm not interacting w/ you (ノ_＜。) and im here in your inbox for a request!

remember when i always gush about your use of endearments? atm, im craving for a hc fic of 7dreamies using their favorite endearment/petname/nickname for reader >< i absolutely think that they have their own ways and the oddest yet the most endearing nicknames for their special ppl and i think about it everytime i read your fics bcuz there is that kind of spice of it in your works (*^-^) and i love it ^^

i hope you're doing well, love! have a great day (人´ｴ`*)♪

xoxo, wynnie.

7dream's nicknames for their partners nct dream x f!reader

genres fluff, established relationship warnings feminine pet names used, quasi-suggestive but not really ( renjun ) author's note omg not the love letter in my inbox !!! love u 5ever wynnie . sorry the bulletpoints are kinda short, i tried to make up for it in the mini-fics ! ty for the request + i hope u like it !

mark lee (ᓀ‸ᓂ)

a very simple, casual guy

babe, dude (romantically), my girl

he can’t even tease you when you tell him it gives you butterflies because he’s the exact same way, giggling into his hand and turning away to hide his silly grin from you

call him dude though? he’ll be sulky until the next day (as if, he melts into a puddle with just one kiss)

“dude,” mark calls out from the hallway, still unsure where everything is still, being your first sleepover. “have you seen my charger? i don’t know where i left it.” “i dunno, man. you should ask your girlfriend.” “wow…” he extends the word in between laughter. he shuffles in his slides back into the bedroom, doubling over your body laying comfortably under sheets. “you are my girlfriend.” “nuh-uh. i’m your dude. your bro. your homeslice.” you over-emphasize the last word, flicking your tongue like a snake. “more like my homewife.” he giggles, reaching up to peck your lips. “that was terrible.” “come on! that’s worth at least half a point.” “negative eight thousand points.”

huang renjun ૮ ˙Ⱉ˙ ა

my love, darling, sweetheart

in my heart of hearts i view huang renjun as the definition of a romantic

maybe he won’t have diamond necklaces for you every date night, but he always makes sure to show his love in the small, important things

he has your favorite snack for when you get home, changes the bedsheets when you forget to, and refills the soap bottles in the bathroom before you even notice you’re running low

“you took care of the dishes.” renjun jumps in his seat, not even hearing when you came in. “i did.” he turns from his canvas to look at you, smiling as you’re already wrapping your arms around his waist. “how was your day, my love?” “exhausting. you are the sexiest man alive, you know that?” you mumble into his hair. “for washing dishes?” “so hot.” you nod, squeezing him tighter. “gee, thanks,” he chuckles, reaching a hand up to scratch your head. “how about a bath? wash away all that exhaustion.” “join me?” you pout. “of course, darling.”

lee jeno ૮ .◜◡◝ა

doll, baby, babydoll

you are a living, breathing doll to him and everyone needs to know!!!!!

he forgets he’s literally mr. ferragamo sometimes and just stares at you with super heart eyes like:

wow (ෆ人ෆ) that’s my baby

“what about this one?” you spin in to give jeno a 360. “i really liked it in the store but i’m not so sure about it now.” “you’re the prettiest girl ever, doll.” jeno sits with his legs spread, his hands in the middle holding the edge of the chair he sits on. “pretty, pretty, pretty.” “thank you, jen.” you look at him. “but i’m asking about the clothes. i don’t know if this shade suits me! or maybe it’s the texture of the clothes? actually, it might be the material.” “everything suits you. if it doesn’t, it’s because the designer was stupid. you’re the pinnacle of fashion, babydoll.” “you’re silly.” you giggle, walking toward him to dig your fingers into the back of his hair. “you don’t think i should return it?” “absolutely not. you look great in red, baby.” “this is white, jen.” “whatever. gimme a kiss.”

lee donghyuck ʕ˙Ⱉ˙‧:ʔ

baby, sunshine, sweetheart (derogatory)

outsiders looking in eavesdropping on your conversations don’t know if you’re about to bite each other heads off or make out against the wall

what else could you expect from haechan ‘dating is so boring, let's be best friend and act like in a relationship’ lee

you feel a dark energy looming over your shoulder, as you often have since saying yes to your first date with hyuck. you continue to feel it as your card taps on the reader, beeping happily at the successful payment, unaware of the incoming chaos. “oh heck yeah! thanks for the food, sis!” haechan’s hand sneaks around to hold the back of your head, pulling you into a deep kiss. he only squeals like an anime girl as your hands slide up to push him away and turn to the cashier, apologizing profusely and failing to convince them that you’re not, in fact, related. “thanks for treating me, sweetheart.” “hey siri, search shooting ranges near me.” “wait, baby no-”

na jaemin ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭

lovey, princess, my muse

fun fact: he loves being called prince. having matchy matchy names makes his heart full and gives his life purpose (his words)

i put those three down but honestly, it really depends on the day. he’s constantly making new ones every single hour

he sees you in the flowers growing in the cracks in the sidewalk (‘petal’), in the songs of the birds outside (‘birdy’), in that one painting he saw back in a museum in italy (‘angel’)

“oh wait, i like these!” you swipe through some candid photos jaemin took of you of a trip you two took a while back on his phone. “how come you didn’t send me these?” “if i sent you every picture i took of you you would think i’m a crazed stalker.” “i know you are and i still love you.” you smile at him before turning back to the phone screen. “urgh. you’re always changing my name in your contacts. what is it now?” “munchy.” “munchy?” you stare at him with your eyes furrowed, having turned in slow motion as if you heard him wrong. “that was the name of one of the tortoises we saw at the zoo. he was so cute. it reminded me of you when you eat pasta. so you’re munchy.” “…okay, jaem. thanks, i think.”

zhong chenle (ᯟ︿ᯏ)

babe, dollface, beautiful

surprisingly, not a big petname user. not at first at least

but one time he clocked you getting pouty and in your head and learned that you liked being called sweet things other than your name.

“what’s wrong with your name? i like your name, dollface.” you can see something switch inside of his mind. “mmm, okay. i’ll try.”

“i miss you…” even through the phone, chenle can’t help but smile at your voice. “please don’t die.” “i’m at the grocery store for ice cream you asked for, dollface. i’m not gonna die.” “what if you get hit by a car?” you sniffle, hormones overwhelming you. “i’ll survive.” “how do you know?” “i just do. you should know by now i’m superman, babe.” “fly home, le. wanna cuddle.” “don’t threaten me with a good time.” he chuckles, phone pressed between his ear and his shoulder as he places your ice cream—and a couple other things he thought you might appreciate—on the counter to be rung up. “stay put, beautiful. i’m coming.”

park jisung (∩˃o˂∩)

babe, dude, pretty (used EXCLUSIVELY behind closed doors)

bro gets embarrassed just breathing air, you think he’s gonna have the guts to be cheesy with you in public?

even calling you babe in public has him with his voice lowered.

it’s really counteractive considering being so shy about things brings only more attention to him from his friends

“could you pass me my phone?” jisung’s request flies over your head as the group conversation is alive and well around you. “babe,” he mutters, finally getting your attention. “can you pass me my phone?” in good 7dream fashion, all the boys ‘ooh’ at him, haechan and mark fangirling obnoxiously. “baby darling sugarplum angelface!” donghyuck mocks, laughing at jisung holding his head in his hands, being consoled by your rubbing his back. “could you pass me my phone, my darling sweetheart pookiebear cupcake?”

author's note i fear i'm running out of themes for fic headers !!!!! why was i not blessed with the moodboard bone all my other lovely mutuals have D:

[freaksun]

tongue piercing reader x best friend!eddie munson

no smut nothing rlly happens just mutual pining and bad writing !! Eddie says m’lady but i think thats the only mention of gender.

You got your tongue pierced today, in a very professional shop a little out of town. Away from your best friend, eddie. Driving back, you decide to stop at a gas station to call and make sure hes home, you wanna stop by and show him your new shiny addition!!

the phone only rings once.

“Hey eddie!!” You almost squeal, though your mouth hurts, youre already excited to show him.

“Hi sweetheart, whats up?” He asks, adorning one of his many nicknames for you. Despite his constant use it still makes you a little flush.

“Are you at home?”

“‘Course babe, why?” God, he couldnt stand to just call you by your name, could he?

“Im stopping by.” You state. You two stopped asking years ago, obsesed with each others presence.

You drive the rest of the way, jamming to the radio though you dont sing like you usually do.

He hears the crunch of gravel under your wheels as you pull up, the low hum of the radio, he jumps to his feet before you even stop the car, and hes outside before you can even open your door. You smile excitedly, you cant wait to blow his mind.

Opening your door, he helps you out, faux gentlemanly.

“M’lady” he grins “to what do i owe your grace?”

You smile, almost evilly “glad you asked, munson”

he looks puzzled, you usually play along with his antics, speaking back in some awful old-timey accent.

“Well, go on” eager thing.

You dont indulge him just yet, letting yourself into his home, saying hi to his sweet uncle wayne as he follows you inside. You bee line to his room, your safe haven.

“Guess what i got pierced” you start with, giddy, as you sit on his bed. (Ignoring the crumbs that are splayed across his sheets)

his cheshire grin grows instantaneously. “What????”

Instead of just showing him, you like to tease. “My tongue.”

“What????? No fucking way. You did not, youre lying.” He almost fumbles over his words hes so excited. When he met you, you were a shy kid he had to coax to talk to him.

“Show me.” He demands, like i said, you two passed politeness a long, long time ago.

You smile, ready to indulge. You stick your tongue out, admiring the surprised and maybe even shocked look on his face. You giggle at his widened eyes, your tongue returning to its place.

He takes a few huge steps towards you, sitting next to you. His hand timidly holds your chin, eyes meeting yours (finally)

“S-show me again” theres a new unsteady shake in his voice. You obey, sticking your tongue out again, more relaxed this time. He moves your head side to side, grasp on your chin steady. He admires you for a few seconds before his questions flood his mind.

“Where the hell- how did- where did you get this??” Is the first. “jesus, were they clean?? Professional??”

You scoff “of course, teddy come on”

He smiles. “Why the hell did you go without me? I mean honestly i coulda done it myself” you giggle, a sound warm and welcome to him. he turns his head to the side, still staring at your new addition, his hand still holding your head in place.

“I know, i know, but i dunno… guess i kinda wanted to surprise you. And honestly, i feel like itd be harder if it were you.”

He smiles downwards, like a guilty child. he takes his hand away.

“What? Why?”

You match him suddenly shy again. “Well, i-i dont know. I guess cause im not scared to back out so i probably would. And cause i like, trust you” you break eye contact, staring down at his pretty hands instead. “Like, so i wouldnt be expecting it to hurt cause its you…”

you dont look up to see it, but hes grinning like you just told him youre in love with him. Which by his standards, you basically did.

See, Eddies been head over heels for you since the moment you met, as kids. He always thought you were far too good for him. Too sweet, too pretty, too kind. So he never pushed a line. What hes blind to see, however, is the way you absolutely melt in his gentle hold, thw way your knees almost buckle when he calls you any of your many many nicknames.

[fuctacles]

sports au!!!!!

The booth was stuffy and smelled like it’s been forgotten for a decade. But the equipment was new and the glass pane was cleaned up, giving Eddie a clear view of the court.

“Is this a good moment to say I don’t know the rules?”

The coach, and his PE professor, looks one step away from murder.

“Just remember our team is wearing green.”

“Yes sir!”

The man squints at him with clear distrust so Eddie gives him his widest, purest smile.

“Good thing nobody’s listening to the campus radio.”

The joke’s on him; Eddie has garnered a lot of listeners over the past months. Listeners that he might lose after hosting a live sports event. 

“Don’t be too weird. I might send you someone to help with the rules so you don’t completely ruin it.” He pats Eddie on the shoulder, his palm so heavy it feels like he’s trying to pin him into the chair, before disappearing behind the door in the back. Seconds later he’s visible walking down the steps to his team.

Eddie looks at his watch. It’s going to be the longest four hours in his academic history. 

He turns to the concsole, frowns at the unfamiliar dials and switches and focuses on the ones he knows. Tunes everything to his best ability, takes a breath, and clears his throat before starting the broadcast.

“Hello, students of Indiana University! I know it’s a Friday night and you were hoping for some nice tunes to party to, but prepare your pillows for a nap instead because you’ll be listening to a football match. No, wait, basketball. I’m pretty sure. 

Anyway, dunno why you’d listen to a match instead of going to see it, but ya boy needs to pass PE this term so here we are. 

And here comes our team! The green ones. It’s greens against blues tonight, folks.”

“Tigers versus Roaches, actually.”

Eddie turns around and sees a tall boy enter his studio.

“First of all, who the fuck names their team Roaches. Second, we have an intruder in the studio.”

The boy extends his hand unfazed.

“I’m Lucas, your interpreter. Since I’m benching for the first half anyway.”

“Booo, I was just going to make up rules as I go. Now you’re gonna make it boring.”

But he shakes his hand anyway and lets Lucas sit on the chair next to him.

“Careful, I’m a dedicated listener. My friends too, you’d probably lose your whole audience.” He smirks. Eddie scoffs.

“I’ll let you know, tiger cub, that many people listen to Munson’s Midnight Metal Madness.”

“I meant the DnD show.”

Eddie looks at the boy, his neat haircut and team jersey.

“Really?”

“Yes, and I’d love to talk more about it later, but now let’s introduce my teammates.”

Eddie hands him the microphone to spit out names he’s never heard before and whatever their bearers' positions were. He hopes the coach doesn’t mind it. All Eddie could do was like, comment on their appearance. Which…

“Where did you get that one from? America’s poster boy catalog?”

He watches Lucas’s face twitch with the effort not to laugh.

“That’s Jason Carver. He’s vice-captain now and will take over the team once Steve graduates later this year.”

“Which one’s that?”

“He usually comes out last.”

Eddie asks about the important stuff - the team's average height and where Andy got his haircut. He looks over the group of young men appraisingly.

“You know what, if I knew y’all play in these funky white socks and guns out I might have gotten into sports commentary earlier.”

Lucas chuckles, but Eddie's on a roll. 

“Especially with such a great co-host, Lucas Sinclair! He’s not on the court yet but he’s being an invaluable source of lore in the studio. Don’t think I’d forget about you, man.” He nudges the younger student. “What’s your specialty on the team?”

“Well…” Lucas scratches his cheek sheepishly. “I’m probably the fastest and my throws are pretty good,” he admits. “Oh, that’s Steve!”

Eddie looks to the right, where a dude with Harrington on his jersey walks in, smiling wide to friends and families watching. 

“Damn, that’s some magnificent hair,” Eddie whistles.

“Yeah, that’s kinda what he’s known for. This hairdo lasts through the whole game, dunno how he does it.”

“He’s gotta give me some tips, because I look like a wet rat by the end of the day. And I don’t even do sports.”

“I’m pretty sure you look like a wet rat no matter the time of day.”

The jab was true but even if it wasn’t, Eddie had a more important thing to focus on right now. 

“Does your captain have a tattoo?” he asks, squinting through the window. He was pretty sure it was ink that was peeking from the bottom of Steve Harrington’s shorts, but it was so out of place on a college athlete, he needed a triple take and the ‘ask the audience’ lifeline to make sure.

“Yep. The coach says it makes him look like a criminal,” he snorts, showing what he thinks about it. “Steve said he regrets not getting it somewhere more visible so more people could see tattoos are not for criminals and rockstars only.”

“Your captain is a smart guy,” Eddie grins, almost sighing into it, to his utter horror. Just a glimpse of a hot guy from afar, a peek of a tattoo, and hearing of his liberal views was apparently enough to make his heart beat faster.

“The best I ever knew,” Lucas admits and it sounds like a Story, capital “s” and all. His next words confirm that. “Our friend group is planning matching tattoos and we are still talking him out of getting it above the neckline.”

Eddie barks out a laugh. 

“Sounds like a savage. I gotta meet your captain sometime soon.”

It’s at this point they notice the coach gesturing at them angrily and they get back to commenting on the game that’s about to start.

“Okay, so explain to me which laundry basket is ours…”

“Okay okay okay. So number four is a tank, yeah? He blocks the other players. Six is a rogue, who slips between the cracks. And number one, your captain, is a warrior who goes for the attack.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“It’s like LARPing for normies,” Eddie realizes in awe and Lucas laughs so unexpectedly he starts to cough. 

“Sinclair! You’re in!”

They both jump at the sudden appearance of the coach. Lucas springs up from his seat.

“Yes sir!”

“It was a pleasure to host with you.” Eddie smiles at his new friend.

“You too. Catch you after the game?”

“Sure.” He smiles brightly, his head already swimming with ideas of how to fuck over Lucas’ future DnD character. Because playing together was inevitable, the dice were thrown, and the plot was in motion. 

Lucas passes by the coach who now turns his attention to Eddie.

“You’re doing good, don’t ruin it.” He looks in pain admitting that. “I might send someone else to help you out.”

“Thanks, coach.” Though Eddie doubts he’d be vibing so well with anyone else on the team.

Just five minutes later though, he’s proven wrong.

“Heard you’ve been curious about my tattoo?”

Eddie's so startled he knocks the microphone down and yanks out the cord in his haste to turn around. 

“Captain!” he yells like a dumbass, faced with the hair and boyishness of no one else but Steve Harrington. 

“Radio-man!” Steve yells back with a wide and teasing smile. “I’ve heard so much about you, man, you have no idea.” He steps closer. “My kids love your show.”

“Your kids?”

“My, uh, younger friends. I used to babysit them and it kinda stuck,” he admits with an awkward smile. Steve is nothing like the typical jock he’s come to expect and he’s everything Lucas advertised.

“That’s adorable, man.”

“Don’t laugh at me,” he pouts. He honest to god pouts.

“Not laughing!” Eddie raises his hands placatingly. “There’s nothing bad with a family-tight friend group.”

“Damn straight.” Steve smiles and sits on the chair vacated by Lucas. He eyes the microphone lying prone on the desk. “Technical difficulties?”

Eddie rushes to fix his equipment.

“You could say so,” he murmurs, trying to busy himself with the tangled cord. But a hand stops him before he can plug it in.

“We’re off the air now, right?”

Eddie looks over the control lights on the console.

“Yeah. Why?”

“You have beautiful eyes.”

“What?”

When Eddie woke up today, he knew his day would be weird. No day spent in a sports facility could be normal or pleasant. It was confirmed when he made a new friend with a member of the team, who was a listener of his DnD podcast. But the team captain hitting on him? That’s not your regular weird, that’s a bad strain of weed kind of weird.

“Lucas sent me over claiming a guy my type might be hiding here.”

It takes everything from Eddie not to take a look around. Logically, he knows there’s no one else in the booth. But his brain refuses to connect the dots. He licks his lips and cringes at the wet noise his mouth makes.

“What’s your type?”

Steve tilts his head and hums like he’s in thought.

“Weird, smartass nerd, as it turns out. With big brown eyes and great hair.”

“Uh, thank you?”

Steve only smiles at him, soft before it turns teasing.

“Wanna see my tattoo up close?” he offers. 

“Gosh, yes,” he admits with zero shame, eyes flitting down to the man’s legs. Was he curious about what type of tattoo a gorgeous sport-type guy would get? Yes. Did he want to ogle some hairy thighs? Also yes. It’s a two-in-one kind of deal.

The coach waves at them angrily to get back on the air, but Steve promises to tell him everything about S.S. Robin after the game. And no, Robin is just his best friend, Eddie doesn’t need to worry about her.

“In fact, wanna be my date to the after-party later? The kids will freak out when they meet you.”

How could Eddie say no to his fans' worship?

And to Steve’s hopeful eyes and the slight squeeze he gave his hand.

“Mingling with jocks in my free time?” Eddie turns his palm up to squeeze back. “Sure, let’s make this day even weirder.”

[lttleghost]

okay I'm like complaining again but I wanna hear other ppls thoughts on this because I'm too impatient to wait until I've gone through all the commentary for BrBa and BCS in search of answers to confirm or deny my suspicions but GOD A FEW THINGS ARE DRIVING ME INSANE and I apologize for this ramble being maybe a lil disjointed in advance

so like, first, this scene-

if I look at this realistically it reads as Jake misinterpreting his and Jesse's parents talking about how Jesse's actions reflect back on them as genuine care, he's young, and I can imagine him having some insecurity in his parents care for him since we do know it is conditional, just Jake is currently meeting those conditions, but sensing that instability could've maybe influenced how he understood his parents talk of his older sibling.

but I just am having a hard time convincing myself that was intended when it was written... and this assessment from me could be unfair because - while I'm not quite sure at what point Jesse was no longer planned to be killed at the end of the first season - this does come from that first season, and I've heard there was a change in how Jesse was written after the first season and throughout the rest of the show there is NO evidence that Jesse's parents like, actually give a fuck about him, they actively make his life worse like when they kicked him out of his own goddamn house, and that all seems like those things have to be intended to make you think "wow Jesse's parents are awful!!!"

but then, not for me to complain about these two scenes in El Camino again but I'm gonna complain about these two scenes in El Camino again -

followed by this not too long after

because while if this movies thing of having blame being squared on Jesse's shoulders was just him talking to his parents it'd be easier to say "oh this is just a kid who was abused in a socially acceptable way not recognizing the abuse he went through and how that really did have a major effect on his life trajectory" but when these two scenes are put so close together it makes it really hard for me to not think that it's TRYING to say that Jesse is responsible for where he ended up even if they don't necessarily want bad things to happen to him

cause like I know, I know the writers are sympathetic towards Jesse but I don't think being sympathetic towards a character like him makes you immune to having harmful beliefs about addicts and criminals when they're so prevalent in wider society, like especially the idea that changing actions taken by individual people is the main problem that needs to be dealt with wrt addiction and crime instead of changing the structural problems that result in addiction and crime, like I've seen this mindset present in the fandom as well

I mean I know I have some evidence that at least Vince's ideas on justice aren't great with this bit from an interview about El Camino (also him having Jesse specifically say "I'm no cop killer" when Jesse would definitely know how cops are just another violent gang, like he could've just said "I don't want to kill anyone" instead of having cops on some higher level of innocence)

like I dunno believing at all that there's a good way to end with Jesse in prison (and not as a way to show how awful prison is either, since he talked about the idea of Jesse finally finding some sort of peace in prison sleeping) is kinda fucked up!!! I do want to fight him for this alone!!! even if like glad he changed it but I dunno the fact that he believes this just makes it easy to believe that he really would!! blame Jesse to at least some extent for what he got into, like I think that he understands Walt manipulated Jesse but I just, I dunno!!! things in BCS kinda bother me too irt just general ideas of crime and drug use ect... but I'm much less familiar with that show in comparison to BrBa so I don't feel as comfortable pointing specific things in it

like... do Vince Gilligan and the writers of Breaking Bad see Jesse’s parents as shit parents who were abusive in a socially acceptable way? or do they really think that they really did their best? is it somewhere in-between? like "they were abusive but they still didn't know any better"? or maybe is it as bad as believing Jesse's parents tried their best and them being rich is supposed to show that he had all he needed to succeed and was just a fuckup (instead of it showing that his parents had all the resources they needed to help him and... didn't) am I just overreacting because I am protective of my girl and the people that I know exist like him and am suspicious of those writing about them if I don't know all their politics behind the subject? I know I've talked to some ppl who have vindicated me w/ some of this but please share ur opinions I want to know the wider ideas on this since I feel like I just don't see it discussed that often

[thezombieprostitute]

Lloyd Hanson - Soulmate AU

A/N: I swear, I tried to ignore him but that only made things worse. @alicedopey didn't help!

Word Count: ~1.8k

Warnings: Reader is kidnapped. Smut. Sub/Dom dynamics vs Dub Con?

The bag is removed from your head and you're finally able to get a look at your surroundings. It's a dark room with one light above the table. It looks like one of those police interrogation rooms in TV shows. The duct tape is ripped from your mouth and you hiss from the pain. You test the bonds around your wrists, tied behind your back, but they're too secure to wiggle out of.

The chair across from you is abruptly pulled back and you're face to face with a tall, broad, blue eyed man with a porn mustache. He's smiling at you. You say nothing, letting your confusion show on your face. He rolls up his shirt sleeve and you see his soulmate tattoo. It's an exact match for yours.

"You couldn't have just bought me a coffee," you ask, trying to keep from snapping.

"Sweetheart," he coos, "you're my soulmate. I have to get you used to what the rest of your life is going to be."

You raise an eyebrow at that, "I'm going to constantly be kidnapped and talk with over-the-top idiots?"

He laughs at your comeback, "not quite. But I do have a lot of enemies and I gotta make sure my soulmate doesn't panic, cry and rat me out if they get picked up." He leans forward and rests his arms on the table. "And I gotta say, you are a champ!"

"I'm good at getting kidnapped," you deadpan. "What a wonderful compliment."

"Not easily scared, sassy and sarcastic," he croons. "You really are my soulmate." He winks and you roll your eyes.

"How did you find me," you ask. "I rarely, if ever, let my soulmate tattoo show."

"Someone used a rare photo of your mark to draw me in," he admits. "Imagine my surprise when it was someone trying to kill me."

"And from there you were able to find me," you nod. "Any chance of untying me, now that you know I'm not trying to kill you?"

"I dunno," he leers, "I'm kinda getting hard at the thought of you being so helpless to stop me."

"I swear to whatever deity will listen, I can and will bite you. Literally and metaphorically."

"Metaphorically?"

"The reason you like me being tied up is because your limp dick needs to feel like it's actually capable of leaving some kind of imprint."

"Ouch!" He moves his hand over his heart, "you weren't kidding, Sunshine. That really hurt!" He leaned forward even more, grinning like a Cheshire cat, "do it again."

"The only reason you don't shave your mustache is because you enjoy getting looks from people because you're a needy man-baby who needs the attention."

"Ooooh, that feels so good," he leans back, chuckling. He makes a motion and someone comes up behind you and undoes your bindings.

"Thank you," you nod, rubbing your wrists.

"Ah, I was wondering where the niceness was." You raise your eyebrow again, silently asking him what he meant. "You work with people a lot and always get such glowing customer service reviews. That means you can at least pretend to be nice. But when I dig further, I find that you're a good neighbor who helps the old lady carry in her groceries. Helps the kiddies with their homework. All that wholesome stuff."

"I have social skills," you retort. "Kinda required for the job."

"You don't have a job anymore." You don't try to hide your surprise at that statement. His tone goes stern for the first time, "I can't have my soulmate wasting her time on other people. All of that goodness you do for others? You're gonna do it for me and only me from now on. I get to be the only outlet for your kindness and you're gonna pamper me every time I'm home."

“No I'm not.”

“Excuse you? I don’t see that you have much of a choice here Sweetie.”

“Not my fault you lack the imagination to see my options.” 

“Your options are to either tend to my every want and need or wallow in a basement on starvation rations.” You smile at him and enjoy the momentary drop in his confidence. “You will give me everything I want. In return, I’ll give you everything money can buy.” You throw your head back and laugh at that. He’s squirming a little, wondering what the hell is going on.

“You can have my submission when you earn it,” you coo. “And you don’t earn it by buying it.” You lean forward, putting yourself in his personal space. 

“What the hell is going on?”

You roll up your sleeve to show Lloyd the matching soulmate tattoo and put your arm next to his. At the first touch of your hand, you both feel the electricity that confirms the two halves have met. You reach out and gently rub his cheek with your hand and he leans into it, gently moaning before he catches himself. 

“You see, even though I don’t know your name, I can see right through you. Your reactions to my snipes and my politeness were quite telling. You do crave attention but you’ve only ever been good at getting negative attention. A soulmate could give you that positive attention you long for. Why else would you actually come looking for me? You could keep up that attention seeking behaviour without involving me but you put yourself at risk for the chance at meeting someone who might be kind to you. Who might like you, if only because they have to.”

“My name is Lloyd,” he grumbles.

“Thank you, Lloyd. I’d say it’s nice to meet you, but you definitely started on the wrong foot.” 

He goes silent but he doesn’t stop your hand rubbing his cheek. He wants to be angry at you. He wants to follow through on his display of force. But he can’t do that. He makes another hand motion and a door opens. He stands up, comes around the table and lifts you up out of your chair. 

“I don’t appreciate not being in control, Sweetheart,” he growls at you. “I may want all of your affection but I will not hesitate to use force if you try to take control from me ever again.”

“As I said, you can have my submission when you’ve earned it.”

“And how do I do that? You turned down my offer of everything money can buy.”

“Treat me like a queen or goddess, not a pet.”

Lloyd takes a deep breath and starts walking towards the door, taking you with him. You manage to keep pace as he leads you through several hallways, up some stairs and finally emerging into, what you can easily assume to be, a mansion. He doesn’t stop to let you take too close of a look. He leads up the wide staircase, to a set of double doors. He pushes them open and you see a giant, canopy bed. You also see things that, while you can’t name them, you're pretty sure they’re meant for BDSM activities. 

He pulls you towards him, wrapping you in his arms, and forces your face up to look at him. “You’re not the only one who can read people, Sweetheart,” he purrs. “You enjoy being a bratty, submissive slut. You want someone who can properly dominate you, satisfy that craving your cunt aches for.”

He walks you to the bed as he keeps talking, “you always tried to hide your tattoo because it was your one rebellion against a world that makes you feel helpless. You are kind to your neighbors because you’re too stubborn to let your customer service job kill your soul.”

He pushes you onto all fours on the bed and smacks your ass. “And your unusual calm at being kidnapped? You expect the world to fuck you over.” He smacks your ass again and you bite back a moan. “You expect things to be out of your control so you don’t sweat it when you’re proven right.” He smacks your ass a few more times and you can’t stop the moan that escapes you. As soon as he hears it he chuckles. “You don’t want to be treated like a pet? Fine.” He spanks you again. “But I won’t treat you like a goddess or a queen.” Another slap. “I’m gonna treat you like the dirty slut you’ve always wanted to be.” Another slap. “And I’ll make sure you never feel you have to be more than just the cock hungry whore you really are.” 

The spanking continues, hard, fast and painful, until your arms give out. Lloyd reaches his arms around you and pulls you up so that your back is flush against his muscular chest. One hand holds you up by your neck. His other hand reaches under your clothes and smirks at how wet you are. He gathers up some of the slick and starts rubbing circles over your clit. You start whining and gasping at the sensations but you don’t dare move your hips. You’re certain he’ll stop if you do anything he doesn’t tell you to and you don’t want this to stop. 

He whispers in your ear, “so long as you never try to wrestle control from me again, I’ll treat how you really want to be treated.” His fingers move faster and you whimper from how close you are. “Not like a queen or a goddess, no. Not a pet, either.” You’re focused on not moving, trying to make sure that his fingers continue to work their magic. “I’ll treat you like my dirty little slut who will do anything so long as I let her cum.” 

His grip on your neck tightens and he whispers, “cum for me.” Your orgasm hits you harder than you ever thought possible. He keeps his fingers moving as he whispers “such a good slut.” As the ecstasy ebbs your legs start shaking and he lays you down on your back. 

Lloyd licks his fingers and moans appreciatively. He pulls off your pants and underwear, whistling appreciatively at the mess you’ve made of your panties. You try to lift yourself on your elbows but he pushes you back down. “You move when I tell you to, Sweetheart,” he orders, his tone making you whimper. He winks at you, “now let me show you the real reason I keep this mustache.”

[blackgirlsuperherorants]

IWTV rant incoming, spoilers for both seasons, be forewarned!

I've been seeing far too much Louis hate online recently, and while I'm of the opinion that none of these vamps are completely innocent by nature, I can't help but notice the disproportionate hate on my boy.

Honestly, it feels a little like fandom racism. And I think AMC IWTV fans have convinced themselves that they're beyond such things because of Jacob and Assad, but idk, everyone turning on the Black one at once seems... yucky?

First, I've seen a lot of "Louis is an abuser". Which... is a wild take on a show where most of the main characters hurt everyone around them?

I think some of it is coming from those who saw the episode in season 2 in which it is revealed that the big fight that Louis and Lestat had in S1 was more even than just Lestat beating up Louis, but y'all... we're not supposed to take S1 as a complete fabrication. A lot of y'all keep saying "oh, we haven't met the real Lestat." Sure, not in person and not from his POV until that ending, but we're not supposed to take it as Louis just lying outright. In the series, different from the books, OUR Louis calls Daniel back in 2022 to give him a more accurate version of the story. In the 1970s, he was just trash-talking Lestat. In 2022, he is remembering Lestat fondly while also remembering all the pain Lestat caused him. He only learns at the end of the season that Armand manipulated some of his memories. And only SOME. We're not supposed to think Armand made Louis misremember everything he and Lestat ever did together. So, we can take S1 as a version of the truth, even if it has some holes or misremembered parts... and in S1, Lestat is a scary guy. When Louis fought him, he was fighting a scary monster. You can't talk about it like he was a human man fighting his human partner because he got a little angry. He was a vampire fighting an even stronger vampire who, as far as Louis knew, was capable of awful things. And Lestat stalked Louis when he was still a human, fed on him without consent, killed the priests Louis turned to in fear... none of that was healthy courtship of a lover. To then turn around and call LOUIS the abuser? That's nuts.

And then there's Armand.

Armand is capable of great physical violence without even lifting a finger. You cannot look at me in the face and tell me that Louis slamming him into a wall was *abuse* after finding out that Armand mindfucked him for 70 years. After y'all saw what Armand did to Daniel. After Armand plotted Louis' death while manipulating Louis into thinking he was loved.

"Louis is an abuser" is a wild take after watching both of those seasons. Louis isn't an innocent princess, either, but compared to the two older vampires, he is the main victim of the story. Both Lestat and Armand emotionally abused him, manipulated him, and physically hurt him, and after all of it, he just ends up alone.

Now, believe me, I love Armand and Lestat. I think they're wonderfully awful people, and so much fun to watch, so fun to love, so fun to hate. But I think so many people left season 2 on their sides completely, just because Louis stood up for himself AND admitted that he was wrong about a lot of what he thought he remembered. And in all honesty, I think a lot of y'all like Sam and Assad because they're hot and... Jacob, while hot, is still Black. With Assad, you can give yourselves the benefit of the doubt because he's still a person of color, but he's a non-black person of color...

And Black people are not afforded softness or innocence, the way non-black people are. So, Louis doing something that's not good makes him not good, even if it's in the context of being a vampire. But Lestat and Armand get "brat prince" and "baby girl" even when they're cruel.

And also, it's not great to put the "abuser" label on someone standing up to their abuser. I dunno. Feels kinda yucky, in that sense, too.

Personally, I try to keep these people's vampire incarnations out of human morality, because being a vampire is inherently immoral because you need to kill to stay alive. So, like, when they physically fight, I can excuse it because they know they can't actually do much harm for the most part, because vampires heal fast and can't be easily hurt. But when... idk, you drop your fledgling from an extreme height, or cut someone's ankles and have them buried in rocks and locked away in a mausoleum... that's actually trying to hurt them (as Lestat admitted.)

And Louis' attempt to kill Lestat was because he and Claudia feared him. None of them disagree with that fact.

Anyway, have the same grace for the Black man that you do for your brat prince. Idk why y'all are trying to make Louis the bad guy. He never even asked to be a vampire. Lestat just wanted to keep him.

[amourrs]

Some sick!reader + Ellie headcanons I've been thinking about for you Ani <3

• You aren't too sure if it's a coincidence or Ellie is really just That girlfriend, but when you're feeling unwell, all her plans get cancelled out of the blue for her to lay on the bed next to you on her phone quietly glancing towards you from time to time to make sure you're happily enjoying the drink she fixed for you.

• She also goes above and beyond to distract you from the pain,- physical or mental; and probably talks to you to a point where you have to attack her with kisses all over her face for her to stop infodumping for a second and just enjoy the show y'all are watching

• Back rubs.. belly rubs.. arm caresses.. temple kisses.. small pecks.. knuckle kisses.. and boob holding for comfort??? Ellie-

• If you start to feel better by the evening, she tells you not to frown about the missed date and hand crafts a blanket fort "Girls night" as she likes to ironically call it and laugh about it(I'm a sucker for Ellie being traditionally girly dont look at me) She basically makes you watch old movies, does your hair and lets you paint her nails.

you don’t understand how happy this ask made me like omg. 18+ only due to suggestive content under the cut! expansion below (also featuring a couple of sneaky ai audios right at the end…) cw for vomit.

this is so cute i’m gonna cry you just understand all my daydreams!!! she’s so gf i love her… btw it’s canon that cups of watery, kind of awful tea ABOUND in your household when you’re sick and you don’t have the heart to tell ellie they’re bad. she’s looking at you and prompting you with her eyes to take a sip and you have to conceal your wince as you do it. “it’s good tea, right? dunno if i left the teabag in for long enough… google said two minutes. was that right? it’s good, right???” you wait for her to stop but she just keeps rambling and you feel so bad for her that you just have to nod along and swallow down the tea 😭😭

the infodumping… god, the infodumping. you’re just trying to focus on a show through your thumping headache as ellie drones “honestly, i think taissa did do it to allie on purpose, even if she doesn’t realise it-” until it gets to the point where you thwack her with a pillow and she pouts at you before pecking your forehead with her lips and snuggling down next to you.

also i see your boob holding and raise you tit sucking… because yes you’re sick but, well, ellie’s still ellie, and so of course she still wants to do horny things. she’d spring it on you right as you’re waking up from your mid morning nap, eyes all soft as she looks down at you all curled up in the little cosy nest of blankets she meticulously arranged for you.

“hey baby. you just wake up? i can make you another cup of tea if you want,” ellie offers happily. she must see the slightly apprehensive look on your face because her eyebrow crooks up as she continues: “or, well… i was thinking… what if i, like, sucked your tits? just a little? think it might help ease some of the aching… after all, my mouth is kinda magical, if i do say so myself.” you’re unable to contain your splutter at the terrible joke. ellie grins and keeps pushing it. “in fact, this might be a miracle cure!” she says with all the drama of someone announcing they discovered a new planet in the solar system. “you might never get sick again!” comes her next line, hands gesticulating wildly in the air as your chest begins shaking with unbridled giggles.

a fake depressive look turns your girlfriend’s lips down as she dramatically sweeps a hand across her forehead. “okay, maybe that’s a bit far… stop laughing at me. you’re gonna make yourself throw up again,” she teases, except you both seem to realise at the same moment that her last statement was probably true. your eyes lock as ellie dives for the sick bucket and you do in fact puke, her calloused hands holding back your hair from your face <3

as for girl’s night- i feel like she would probably make you a little mocktail because even though you’re not well enough to be drinking, cranberry juice is really good for you and lemonade is almost one of your five a day if you really think about it… and “mint’s basically a vegetable. like, it’s green enough, right?” when you’re forced to take the opposing side on the is-mint-really-a-vegetable debate she acts like you’ve just hit her with a hammer and insists on calling jesse to settle the matter.

“ok, i need your help with a super important decision,” ellie says, a stern expression on her face. the way her eyebrows are wrinkled in the middle looks extra cute, you think, and lean forward to kiss her. instead you’re met with a hand to the sternum and an angry glare. “damn. okay, important decision,” you agree, eyes lifting to hers in curiosity. your girlfriend sucks in a deep breath and you brace yourself… “should i paint my toenails green or pink?” ellie asks innocently. you feel like thumping her- why do i ever take her seriously?? you think, heart slowing back to its normal pace as you throw her a dirty side eye.

“wait, actually… that yellow looks kind of cool-” you cut her off with a thump to the head with your pillow. “OW!” comes her pained response, your lips tilting up into a smug smile as ellie shoots you a look of pure betrayal. “ok… OK!” THUMP! “i get it! no yellow…” the pillow lifts again as if to drive your point home for a final time and… THUMP! “ow! fuck! wait, why is your pillow so fucking solid?”

+ as promised, the ai audios… as i mentioned on my blog before, my bot isn’t anywhere near perfect yet so please excuse if these happen to sound a little funky!

[2-lines-and-a-circle]

How I feel about my gorgeous girlies and husband's new outfits Ikevil ver.

damn Jude is decked out in those jewels isn't he????

okay but Jude with that bird cage around his waist is doing stuff to me I didn't know could happen

I cannot tell you how much I love Jude's whole chain thing, I want to, no I will make a necklace inspired by it

the details of the sleeves are so nice too

Elbert is looking down at me in disgust and it's kinda hot

His whole look is giving something that I've seen before in my dreams and he pulls it off so damn good I'm foaming at the mouth

Oh you know what it reminds me of, if reminds me of Vil from the Luxe couture event where he walks on the red carpet who wore it better? Vil or Elbert, jk it's not a competition both slayed

Harrison is out here to serve, cook, and clean

but lemme bring you some attention to that thigh showing

it's making me scream out from the top of my lounges

The look of mirrors all around Harrison make me think about a man who is blind to those around him because he can't see himself

ALso did you see the chest peice!!!!!! He's so stunning like a flower waterfall that is up against a pile of rocks with some little flowers growing all around it

I too will make that damn chest piece, just you watch

Kate, honey, that hat is giving witch of the waste when before her magic worn off, only this time Kate is serving that look times 100x

she is so darn cute and then you look at her see through arm sleeves thing you know she is sexy and cute

BUt most importantly I need to see Kate with more of that hair

Okay now we got ourselves William he looks like him

I dunno I'm just not that into him

it's meh sorry William

Liam is serving so much cunt we need to call the police, oh but you can't because he would incriminate you

Like boys take a note from Liam he is slaying so hard with that POSE

Look at him, I mean they really wanted to show you how to break yourself trying to copy his pose

Now, ahem for my man, my boooooooooooiiiiiiiiiiiiiii Ellis!

Step aside twinks, here comes Ellis he's so cute yet cunty at the same time

like that smile is everything to me. It's like he's a shinning start amongst the dark night sky and all I can see is him smiling ahhhhh i'm down bad for him aren't I??

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt: the last son of Krypton meets Hypertime Kon.

“Half-Kryptonian, half-human,” Bruce reports flatly, clearly not liking the answer. Clark feels his heart clench painfully in his chest again at the confirmation, even as obvious as it was to his eyes. “Specifically, fifty-four percent Kryptonian to forty-six percent human.” 

“I think it’s more like fifty-two and forty-four, technically,” Kon says. Bruce looks irritated again, but Clark’s immediately curious, since that obviously doesn’t add up to a full hundred percent and also he just wants to know everything about this kid. “They custom-built the last four percent or something, I guess, so it’s kinda . . . synthetic DNA, probably? Or something, I dunno. That’s where the TTK and the part where I haven’t collapsed into clone soup comes from, though. Apparently, anyway.” 

Clark feels briefly nauseous at the mention of collapsing into . . . “clone soup”, which just leads to all sorts of horrifying mental images, but Kon says it casually, as if it’s not an actual concern and more just a morbid reference, which is . . . still concerning, admittedly, but at least less concerning than it could be. If he’d had to watch Kon degenerate to death while knowing his other version would never even know what had happened to him . . . 

That sounds like a literal goddamn nightmare come to life, yes. And he can’t imagine being that version of himself, either, and just never, ever knowing. Just having that empty place in his life forever, and never knowing why it had happened or what had happened to the person who belonged in it, and just hoping against hope, without knowing it was already too late. 

God, what a thought. 

“Satisfied, Batman?” Clark asks, trying not to think about it. They’ll get Kon home. If there isn’t a way to track down his home reality with science, magic is still on the table. The League is full of resourceful, well-connected people who are owed a lot of favors, and someone always knows someone.

“Not even remotely,” Bruce replies, stepping away from the scanners and gesturing Kon towards Diana. “Lasso.” 

“Batman . . .” Clark sighs, folding his arms. “You’re three Robins deep and they’ve never had to answer to the Lasso of Truth.” 

“None of them showed up already wearing a bat on their chest and claiming ties to one of the most singularly powerful people on Earth,” Bruce retorts flatly. “And even if he’s telling the truth, for all we know this boy’s Superman is a supervillain.” 

“He is definitely not, actually,” Kon says, shooting him a dubious look as he folds his own arms the exact same way Clark just did. Clark resists the urge to take the imitation as flattery. Bruce looks exasperated, very briefly.

“Then you won’t mind telling Wonder Woman’s lasso that,” he says. 

“Robin would tell me to ask for a lawyer, I’m pretty sure,” Kon says, still more dubious. Bruce looks very exasperated. 

“Well, he isn't wrong,” Diana says, clearly amused.

[zippidi-dooda]

I am loving this event way more than I thought I would (haven't fully gone through it yet)

But I was not expecting Vil to go ham on insults

And this was just from what I played through today

Glad I'm not actually there cause I'd be in the background like "OOOOHHH! DAMN VIL, YOU TELL 'IM!!!" And Leona would hate me

Also love how we get the representation of someone who hates kids, I feel like there are few to no shows that demonstrate it

Cheka is cute and I love him, but I can understand Leona

To be honest, Leona has never really been on my roster, I am more of a Malleus/Deuce/Rollo type of gal

Leona just seems like someone more fun to bugger with

But this ...

This reveal???

Jaw dropping, king of the jungle for real, hubba hubba, hot dayum--Malleus forgive me

Another moment that I am glad I wasn't there for cause I was all over the other three's "take off the overcoat" reveal and would've been fan-girling over them, whooping and gassin' 'em up,

But the difference in how my reaction to seeing them compared to Leona would've been obvious

His aura was just so different and he doesn't show off his strength, he prefers brain over brawn, but now he was so smug about it

Like, yes, that's what I live for

Not to mention that I personally love the idea of "flirt fighting" which entails actually sparring. Wanting to better defend and strengthen yourself is the main motivator, but tension is a great plus.

And that's essentially everything he's doing here???

Get me in the ring with him, I will lose but I will enjoy every second of it

And then, when all's said and done,

He takes the time to actually voice his evaluation and assessment of everyone in a straightforward and nice way

I feel like I got to see a side of Leona I hadn't before and I'm really liking it

I remember reading a post about how Leona doesn't really resemble Scar who he's twisted from during the Book of Savanaclaw, where there was some good points made (namely, he kinda sat back while Ruggie did most of the dirty-work, it was on Leona's behalf but we didn't see much of him stringing Ruggie around).

But in this event we really get to see the "Scar Side" of Leona. His wit, his cunning and the issues that motivate Leona; he wants change for the better of his pride and knows how to get there quick, but others won't listen cause they have other values they'd like to keep in tact and it irritates him that they're putting the things that are (in his mind) more insignificant, first.

And I think introducing that part of Leona in this event instead of in Book of Savanaclaw works amazingly well because Leona is a prince, he is at NRC to learn yes but stays there (probably also gets held back on purpose so he'll have an excuse to stay away from home) to forget about his frustrations with his homeland. So, I think he wouldn't have much incentive to want to fix as much in his dorm or the school since his problems mainly lie back in his Kingdom.

Anyway, this is plenty fuel for happiness and story ideas and that's about all I have to share right now

(Also, the bow Grim is wearing is most similar to Leona's garb and since we are "a package deal" I'm assuming we're both wearing similar prints. So, we may be matching spectacularly with Leona. Dunno about you, but I'd gladly follow along as if I'm his trophy wife-- again, I'm sorry, Malleus don't come for me-- and also this is just more story fuel ...)

"Leona x reader x Malleus"

The story goes through the whole Cloud Calling event, with Y/N learning there's so much more to the lazy beastman than thought originally. But, when Lilia shows off the group's trip photos, Malleus is enraged to see you leaning happily against Leona in what are practically couples' clothes, the smug smirk the lion is sporting seems to be targeted specifically at the fae. What will happen when you return to NRC from your trip? Find out in the next episode

[hyunfilms]

blue side of the sky (lmh) | fifteen.

♡ spotify playlist | series masterlist

—summary: waking up after 3 months with no recollection of your past, your friends do what they can to help you remember. except, they omit an important piece to the puzzle - afraid you would remember the heartbreak and hurt all over again.

—pairing: lee know x f. reader

—genre: (18+) exes to lovers, bestfriends to lovers au | fluff, angst, smut

—word count: 4.4k

—chapter content/warnings: cussing/mature language, flashbacks - more soft, affectionate moments, small kisses, i honestly dunno how to explain the rest of the chapter 😭 lots of things are said and done, yelling/confrontations, crying, most of it still doesn't make sense for oc and it's very overwhelming...

☁︎ FLASHBACK | LAST NIGHT

"Can you still come over tomorrow, too? I think it'd be good if we talked about everything." Minho looks at you with pure adoration, heart soaring after you surprised him and dropped by after your movie night with Uncle Adrian.

"Okay. Are you sure you're ready to?"

"Yeah, I am. We should. Just so we're on the same page." He holds you closer. "But tonight, we can just be here and watch whatever you wanna watch."

"Sounds good with me." You softly smile while looking up at him. "Wait." You turn to lay on your stomach and look at him. "Tell me how we met in high school. How you met Jisung."

"Oh god." He cringes, groaning into the pillow but you fight to remove it from his face. You finally succeed, cupping his face to make him look at you. He laughs and gives in anyway, pulling you close to him as you continue to wait for his response. "Fine. You're lucky you're cute."

"Tell me!" You pout.

"Okay!" He laughs. "It's really anticlimactic, you know?"

"Okay? I still wanna know." You rest your chin on your palm. 

"I was late to class on our first day of freshman year because I had to go to the office to get my schedule sorted out. On my way to class, Jisung almost ran into me cause he was rushing. Dropped his books and everything." Minho laughs. "It was everywhere. He was frantically picking it up." Minho tried to mimic Jisung being a mess. "He kept saying sorry and that he was late. I kinda just watched him run off without saying anything because I didn't know what to say."

"You didn't even help him?"

"He kept saying not to!" You chuckle. "But anyway, after that, I found out my locker was next to his. You know him, he's always been super talkative. I guess that's how we got close."

"And how did we meet?"

"I came along with Jisung to meet you after school to eat. We picked you up at your school, then walked down the street to the small restaurant we started going to often afterwards."

"Hm." You hum.

"Look." Minho grabs an old polaroid from his nightstand, showing one with you, him, and Jisung in your high school uniforms eating at the restaurant; the other polaroid is just you, smiling. "It's one of my favorite pictures."

"You just keep it there?" You look at his nightstand and he nods.

"Mhm."

"Minho." You move up, tracing his jaw with your finger.

"Yeah?"

"Do you still hate taking pictures?" You remember Jisung mentioning this to you, but part of you is now starting to realize it must have to do with this history he has yet to talk to you about.

"Kinda, I guess? They're just not my thing." You rest your chin on his chest and subtly nod. You rest there for a minute, with Minho beginning to gently stroke your hair. 

"You okay?" You give him a small, toothless smile.

"Mhm."

"What are you thinking about?"

"Nothing." Minho lets out a breath before lazily pulling you closer to his face by the elbows.

"You sure?"

"Mhm."

"Hey." He says softly. "You know I just want you to be happy, right?"

"Where is this coming from?"

"Nowhere. You know that though, right?" You giggle a bit.

"Yeah, of course."

"You come first, and I will always prioritize your happiness before anybody's."

"Minho."

"Just listen." He pouts a bit. "I just need you to know this."

"Okay." You answer close to a whisper. "I know you would, I wouldn't doubt it."

"No matter what."

"No matter what."

"Okay." Minho feels a sense of relief because he really just needed you to know that. Of course, right now, he must seem blinded by the affection in the air and everything that's been going on between you two— but he truly hopes you know that he will always support you and keep you happy, no matter what that may look like.

Even after everything happens, he will make sure you're happy.

Even if that meant ending this.

Even if that meant giving you space.

Being your bestfriend before anything.

He will make sure you're happy.

"Come here." He breaks the silence again, pulling you onto his lips gently, softly; passionately. He holds the kiss for awhile before repeatedly pressing kisses to your lips. He pulls you onto him, deepening the kiss a little bit more; hands gripping onto your hips as you gently roll against him.

He loves you.

You are love to Minho.

You are the blue sky to Minho.

And this is probably the last time he'll get to hold you and kiss you like this.

☁︎ END

"You're off today?" You ask Uncle Adrian as you pop into the house, curious to see what's in the fridge.

"I could ask you the same." He laughs. "Did you just come from the boys' house?"

"Way earlier. Minho dropped me off before heading to the café. I just figured I'd pop in after seeing you move around in the kitchen." He nods.

"Come, I'm about to make brunch. Anything you're craving for? Like, pancakes? Eggs? Bacon?"

"Hm, nothing too heavy. Toast, bacon, eggs?" He nods.

"Alright, they're all coming up then." He opens the fridge and takes out a carton of orange juice. "Orange juice? Water, tea?"

"Water is good." You smile at him as he slides you a nice, cold glass of water. He begins to toast some bread while preparing the stove for the eggs and bacon. 

"What're your plans today? No work, no class?"

"Nope. I was gonna go to class, but I changed my mind. I worked some overtime the past few shifts. Plus, I went to class the other day and loaded up my new pieces in the kiln. Think it's a perfect time for a little break." You sip on some water. "I'm going to the café in a bit to meet up with Jisung. Then, we'll go back to their place and just hang out again."

"Nice." He looks at you while he quickly beats the eggs and pours it into the pan. "Those two treating you well?"

"Of course."

"Good. You seem happier."

"Do I?" He nods.

"Mhm."

"I guess so." You smile to yourself as trace your water glass, remembering the past moments with Minho; how safe, how warm he feels. How he makes you feel. "Things just finally feel.. settled. I feel content."

"Well, I'm glad you're happy and content." He says with a tiny hint of worry in his statement, but he trusts Minho is learning and is trying to do better. Of course, he never wants to see you hurt. But, he has a big heart, and he also believes people deserve second chances [being that they prove themselves worthy]. He just hopes you are genuinely happy.

He hopes Minho and Jisung have been talking to you about everything. He truly, truly hopes so.

"Yeah, it feels nice." You giggle, tracing the rim of your cup. "What about you? How're your projects going?"

"They're going alright. We completed one, finally. Might pick up another big job about an hour away. Need to build a new space for a client." He sighs. "Which reminds me, I need to follow up with him and set up a meeting to talk about what exactly he's looking for."

"That's great! And you will follow up with him. But for now, maybe just enjoy your day off?" You tilt your head and Uncle Adrian laughs.

"You're right." He slides the plate over to you. "Here, got yours ready first. Dig in!"

"I can wait for you."

"No, you have places to be." He chuckles. "You can eat Y/N. Don't worry about your little ol' uncle." You laugh and bite into your bacon.

"Thank you for breakfast." 

"My pleasure." Uncle Adrian continues to talk to you a bit more about work, but he does promise he'll enjoy his day off and not think about it much. You talk to him about Mrs. Pak and how great work has been, how much fun you're having at pottery class. How the drawings and paintings are finally coming back to you, finally easing into your fingertips.

Sooner or later, you get up to wash your dishes and freshen up— leaving the house to catch the next bus and train. You bid your farewell and tell your uncle not to stay up to wait, that your friends will take care of you tonight so no need to keep watch of the side door [and your guest home door]. He insists on driving you to the café, but you promise him the public transportation trek isn't bad and you enjoy taking the trip. You reassure him until you've successfully made it out the door and on your way to the stop.

It's quite nice traveling alone, especially when the train is close to empty. The streets are busy though, mixed with workers grabbing lunch, and people just enjoying their day. You stop by the shop to see Mrs. Pak, but she quickly shoos you away [in a lovingly manner] and tells you to enjoy your day off. When you make your way into Sunday Morning, you don't catch sight of Minho or Jisung. But, you do see a few other favorites:

"Y/N, hi!" JJ smiles from ear to ear and you can't help but giggle. Right next to him is Soobin, working away at making everyone's drinks. Soobin gives you a nod and a wave, in which you return after greeting JJ. 

"Where's Minho?"

"Being the worst and not manning the register like he should be." 

"I'm busy loading up the cookies since you forgot to do it even after I asked." You hear Minho's voice in the back.

"See? The worst." Minho glares at him as he walks out, wiping his hands on a paper towel before tossing it into the trash. His eyes land on you and his expression softens; Minho subtly biting onto this bottom lip to prevent himself from smiling too wide.

"Hi. Hope I wasn't interrupting your cookie time?" You say as you approach the register, hugging your tote bag close to you.

"No, not at all. JJ's just being JJ." Minho clears his throat while pushing JJ aside. "What can I get you, pretty?"

"Iced coffee, please?"

"Extra sweet?" You chuckle and nod.

"Jisung isn't here yet?"

"No, but he'll probably trickle in soon." Minho shrugs nonchalantly like he always does, making you chuckle as you sit at a table and get comfortable. He follows shortly behind with your coffee, pulling up a chair just as he places your cup down. "Want anything to eat?"

"No. My uncle was off today! He made some brunch." Minho chuckles.

"That's nice. Glad he finally has a decent day off."

"Me too." You pull out your sketchbook, pulling up a picture of a bouquet you helped prepare with Mrs. Pak yesterday. "How's it been so far?"

"Mm, same old. Kinda busy."

"Busy is good." You chuckle.

"What're you working on?" You flip your phone and show him the picture of the bouquet.

"I made this with Mrs. Pak yesterday. We had to help with a small company event and they requested a couple of bouquets for pick up."

"That's really pretty."

"Thank you. I worked hard." Minho laughs.

"You always do." You give him a small, shy smile, heat rising to your cheeks with the way he's looking at you from across the table. "You're still coming over, right?"

"Mhm, of course. You said you wanted to talk."

"I do."

"Yo!" You turn your head to see Jisung walking in, holding onto his backpack strap, headphones loosely hanging around his neck. He waves to JJ and Soobin, instantly spotting you and Minho at a table afterwards. "My favorite people." Jisung plops onto a chair and lets his bag gently fall to the ground.

"Why do you sound like you ran a marathon?"

"I did." Jisung pouts. "No, but we had a team meeting that went on for so long. Too much shit. I'm drained." Minho nods. "Hi cielo."

"Hi pachi."

"What're you doing?"

"Just drawing."

"How'd you get here?"

"Bus, train. My uncle was off and insisted on bringing me, but I told him I didn't mind the trip."

"Oh, he's off? That's good." Jisung shifts his attention to Minho and pouts [whines] again. "I'm hungry." He rubs at his tummy. "My tummy's gonna eat itself." Minho rolls his eyes.

"What do you want?" Jisung smiles.

"Iced Americano. Chocolate croissant. Pretty please?" Minho nods and walks towards Soobin and JJ, muttering a few things as he gets Jisung's order ready. "Cielo."

"Hm?"

"What do you wanna do later with the guys?" Jisung pulls out his laptop and starts typing away, eyes fixed on the screen in front of him.

"Anything."

"Okay, so you'd play Super Smash Bros?"

"Sure." You chuckle. "As long as I can use Kirby."

"Weak." Jisung teases before letting out a small laugh. "Kidding. Deal. How about food?"

"Hm. You know what sounds nice?"

"Yeah?" He questions with a head tilt.

"Burgers." He shrugs.

"Can buy some or make Minho cook it." You shake your head.

"Let's get them to-go somewhere?" He nods.

"Sounds good."

"What're you working on, Ji?"

"Some last minute action items from work." He sighs. "Long ass meeting." He lets out, still in disbelief at how incredibly long [and unproductive] that meeting was. "What are you drawing?" You turn your phone towards him.

"Look at these bouquets I made with Mrs. Pak."

"Yo, those are beautiful." He scrolls between pictures. "You're gonna have Mrs. Pak's business booming soon."

"I hope so." You chuckle. "I mean it'll be busy, but she really deserves the support."

"Agreed." He smiles. "They're really pretty. Let me see the final drawing after." You nod.

"Here, princess." Minho says, the both of you looking up at him.

"Me or her?" 

"Just take the food." Minho look at Jisung in disgust and slides his tray over to him before walking back to the counter.

"Well, I don't know! I thought you were bringing Y/N something else." Jisung exclaims before sipping on his iced americano. "Goodness. I needed this." You chuckle.

You continue to draw at the table while Jisung works for a bit in front of you. He talks about his coworkers and how the one thing they did discuss at the meeting was the company's BBQ soon at the office. Their team has decided to bring in a few dishes to contribute, which is unfortunate for Jisung. He tells you that he's tried to look up certain recipes to try, but he ultimately gave up. He insists [and finalizes] that he'll buy ramen for everyone.

"Like, you're going to make a pot of ramen, or you're going to buy the cups and bring it?"

"Shouldn't I just bring the cups? What if people don't want it, then the rest of the ramen goes to waste."

"True, I mean you could always pack it up." He shakes his head.

"It won't be fresh or anything."

"Just say you wanna bring the cups cause it's easier."

"I wanna bring the cups cause it's easier." He does as he's told, making you laugh. At this point, Minho returns, swinging the chair for him to sit in. 

"So, what's the plan later?" Minho asks, even though he knows the main thing he needs to do tonight is talk to you. He'll keep it normal though, he'll hang out and let it be a nice evening before he pulls you aside to talk. He just wants to do this gently as much as possible, easing all of this onto you without any restrictions. You needed to know, and he will do everything to keep you comfortable— even if that meant creating distance for you to be in your own peace.

"Maybe you should work first before asking." JJ teases from behind the counter, but Minho simply looks over his shoulder before returning his attention towards you two.

"Order some burgers for takeout then play Smash Bros." Jisung shrugs while looking at him. "I don't know what else."

"We should camp outside in the backyard."

"Camp.. outside in the backyard?"

"Yeah, we have tents. Weather's still pretty nice."

"Actually, that sounds kinda fun." You rest your chin on the palm of your hand, now focused on shading. 

"We have a bigger tent that could fit all five of us. And we could use Seungmin's projector to pull up a movie against the side of the house or something."

"When the hell did we get a bigger tent that could fit all five of us?"

"My dad gave it to us in case we wanted to go camping."

"Oh, I didn't know that." Jisung responds with a head tilt. "Kinda do agree. We should set it up later." Minho stands and pushes the chair in, stretching a bit.

"Alright well, let me get—" The attention suddenly shifts to the door swinging open abruptly, a few voices echoing into the café before one individual storms inside. To your surprise, it's Kat; and you're only surprised because you do recall Minho saying whatever they had was done with. You haven't seen her in awhile, and you weren't expecting her to storm in after some time.

But, she is angry.

She's looking right at you and Minho.

"Nice fucking going." Kat storms in angrily, heading straight for Minho who is still standing near your table. "What the hell is wrong with you?!"

"What are you doing? Can you keep your voice down?" Minho furrows his brows and puts his hand out to keep some distance between him and Kat. She's fuming, and Minho isn't exactly sure why— but, he does have an inkling as to why she's this upset. She must have had a few more words to share with him and didn't like the fact that she was [finally] blocked.

"Keep my voice down? What's your problem? All of a sudden, you're blocking me—" Minho sighs heavily.

"Can we not talk about this here?"

"Because of her?" She laughs, making Jisung stand up next to Minho in an attempt to protect you from whatever Kat has up her sleeve.

Though, nothing would've prepared them for this very moment. Not from Kat.

"Dude." Jisung says sternly.

"Not the time." Minho picks up on the cue, trying to get Kat to leave as peacefully as possible. But, of course, peaceful isn't in her vocabulary— so she continues.

"Wow, unbelievable." She rolls her eyes. "It's really funny how you're suddenly so protective over her. You weren't like that before, at least, not that I could remember."

"Kat." Minho calls her name once, and he's hoping it's enough of a warning. It's not. 

"Don't start." She aggressively whips around to try and avoid Minho's reach. You're so confused, especially when Jisung is clenching his jaw. JJ is suddenly getting closer, and Soobin is on high alert. Why do you suddenly feel like you're being sucked into this never-ending black hole? Why does this all feel wrong? "Just so you know Y/N, your so-called bestfriends? They've been lying to you and hiding so much shit from you. Especially this one." She scoffs. "He was never even loyal to you, to the point where he let you leave that night—"

"Kat!" Minho yells, grabbing her wrist again. He truly wasn't trying to touch her, or get handsy in his café— in public. But, it's unfortunate that he has to, along with JJ's help. "You need to leave. Now!"

"W-what?" You look at Jisung, then back at Minho.

"Let go of me! Did you really think you could hide from her forever—"

"That's enough! Get the hell out!" JJ yells as he rushes over and holds the door open for her. "Seriously, don't make me call the police. Got the nerve to do this in a damn café, you must be outta your mind!"

"Please don't come back here. I mean that." Minho sternly says, his jaw clenched.

"You're all so fucking pathetic." She laughs, shaking her head. "At least now she knows how amazing you guys truly are." She sarcastically spits out before walking away, her friends [who had been lingering outside] right beside her. People in the café are too stunned to speak about the drama that just ensued, and lots of them are giving your entire group looks.

But, you don't care.

Right now, you don't. 

Because this is all going to blow over for everyone else; for you, it won't.

They lied to you. They hid from you.

"Y/N, let's talk about this." You stand and create some distance between you and Minho, Jisung right by him.

"What did she mean?" You shakily ask. "Was it true?" You did have a feeling Kat was part of this history, but you never knew it would be this big. Not something that would just blow up in your face on a random day in this café. Not something that makes you feel queasy, sick to your stomach.

Because now, it feels like everything.

You thought you might have played a part, like you might have been the reason why there was a bumpy past. But now you're understanding that it was never you, that it was her. It was Minho. It was Jisung.

It was everyone but you.

"Was it true?" You repeat. Both Minho and Jisung are silent, and their silence is telling. It tells you everything you need to know. Everything you needed to know that everyone else felt like you didn't. You start shaking your head more, tears steadily falling down your cheeks even though you don't know the story, the details— but what you do know is that you are hurt. The two people you loved and trusted are standing here, looking you in the eye, yet they aren't doing much to make you feel better.

"Y/N, please. I can explain, just let me explain all of this—"

"I can't be here. I-I have to go." You quietly pack up your things.

"Cielo, let me bring you home. Let's just talk—" You look at Jisung and your heart hurts even more. Jisung was supposed to be your other half, and here he is; looking at you with those guilty, puppy eyes. Part of you still hopes it isn't as bad as it seems, that maybe this is all a misunderstanding. It's hard to bypass your gut feelings, though.

"I'm going to go." You look at him. "Alone. Please don't follow me or anything."

"Cielo. We need to talk about this."

"Please. I'm not asking." You throw the bag strap over your shoulder. "Excuse me." You push through, Minho calling your name once—twice— before you're finally outside.

You can breathe.

The anxiety is still bubbling in your stomach, but you can breathe. 

You hurriedly walk to the train station to start your trek back home, tears still streaming down your face as you keep your head hung low. You don't even know what this means, what this means for you and your friends, what this means for tomorrow. The day after. The future.

And you're scared.

But just knowing that they've hid things from you, hurts.

It aches.

The pain is dull, but it aches.

The ride home is difficult; you keep your head down the entire time to avoid showing your tears. Your phone is constantly going off with texts from Jisung [you assume] but the most you can do at this moment is silence your phone.

You drag yourself home, head still hung low even as you step into your door and place your things down. You look around your space, your room, eyes landing on the pictures you have. Then, the tears fall continuously; on, and on, and on. You sit back onto your bed, crying into your hands as everything Kat said replayed in your head. 

"Just so you know Y/N, your so-called bestfriends? They've been lying to you and hiding so much shit from you. Especially this one."

"He was never even loyal to you."

Minho no longer feels safe, warm.

"Y/N, are you home already?" You hear Uncle Adrian softly call out at your door. He must have heard you come in through the side door, but wasn't able to catch sight of you. 

"Yes." You mumble through your words. "Come in." And with that, he swings the door open and pokes his head into your room. His heart instantly drops when he sees you in the bed, crying— wiping away at your tears while you sniffle away.

"Hey, what's wrong?" He sits next to you. "What happened?"

"They've been hiding from me." Uncle Adrian's heart crumbles to pieces when he hears the words come out of your mouth because he knows. 

Oh, he definitely knows what you mean.

But, Uncle Adrian doesn't respond and you can't help but look at him to see if you're missing something. You can tell. His look is softer, more worry and fear laced in his expression than anything else.

"Uncle, why aren't you saying anything?" His head drops a bit, letting out a hefty sigh. "Y-you knew about this, too?"

"I'm so sorry, Y/N."

"D-Does everyone know besides me?" Silence. "I've been going around looking that stupid? Because here I was.. going on, trying to get used to the world again and enjoying every moment. Little did I know that everyone was hiding stuff from me." You sniffle.

"What exactly happened today?"

"Kat came into the café today. She was mad at Minho, then she started saying all this stuff to me about my bestfriends hiding stuff a-and lying to me. S-she told me Minho was never—" You pause to let out a breath. "—Was never loyal to me." You look at your uncle and his heart breaks. "I don't even know what she means, but I know it hurts."

"Minho and Jisung were going to tell you eventually." Which, he truly means. He believed they would. He just didn't think they were going to take this long, especially with the way Minho is going about things. He can't say he's mad, but he can't say he isn't disappointed they didn't do it sooner. There was no way Uncle Adrian would've known or kept track of all this, even if he wanted to. He just trusted them to take care of it the way that they say they would.

"But, that's the problem. Why couldn't anyone just be honest from the beginning?"

"This is tough." He shakily says. "I'm so sorry, Y/N. We never meant to hurt you, we just wanted to protect you and keep you safe. We wanted to give you time, however long you needed, to re-adjust. 

"Did you not believe I could take it? I would've wanted to know."

"It's not that." He sighs a bit. "Jisung was just worried about you, and he was mainly concerned about letting you get through things one step at time. He didn't want to overwhelm you."

"How bad can it be? Can't you tell me?" He looks at you, but you don't respond as you're trying your very best to look at this under a different light. You're trying to see Jisung's reasoning, but you don't have anything to work with. No one wants to tell you exactly what happened. At least, no one was in a rush to.

Why?

"You should really talk to your friends." He gives you a very small, faint smile to try and reassure you somehow. He wishes he could tell you, he wishes he could ease whatever you're feeling right now. But, he thinks it's best for Minho and Jisung to take the reigns on this one. "Minho, especially."

⇢ 15.5 [cloudy days]: here

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