#why don’t y’all share with the class

[chirpsythismorning]

Wait, did Mike sleep in Will’s room in Lenora?

[reveluving]

Ok, so Soap and shy wife. We all know he's the definition of sunshine/happy puppy and has the energy of an entire class of kindengarden. Imagine when they first meet the couple and he's all loud and jolly, and wife quietly shakes their hand and says "Nice to meet you" and he INSTANTLY quiets, because he's proud of his Darling to meet his friends/family, also because they're all wondering how she puts up with him🤣❤

LOSING MY MIND AT "they're all wondering how she puts up with him" BECAUSE THAT IS BASICALLY THEIR DYNAMIC 🤧💗💗

Includes: tooth-rotting fluff!

COD x shy!wife thots closed! Thank you, everyone, for your time & amazing minds! I sincerely hope I can do this again with y'all soon! 💌

Come & check out my COD m.list!

You just know this man does not shut up about you every time he meets up with his team for work. 

And then, one day, he surprises them with a “she’d love y’all to come over one day.”

“Didn’t you say she’s a lil’ shy?” Kyle voiced out everyone’s thoughts, so to be offered not by the man himself but the meek lady in question was a little surprising, to say the least.

“She is, yeah, but she’s open t’meeting a few pals o’mine.” Johnny meant it to sound casual, but with his mates knowing him for a long time, it wasn’t hard to catch the hint of care in his voice.

And, well, it would be rude to decline a lady’s generous offer, now, would it?

Johnny’s hyped, no doubt, his friends—no, brothers, and his other half finally meeting in person. They didn’t even have to ask, just by the way he was tapping his fingers on the steering wheel or the way he hummed to the radio, likely a playlist the two of you shared.

And with the boys holding some sort of gift for you, just as a thank you for the invite, you greet them by the door as soon as your husband announces his and his friends’ arrival. 

With Simon physically being the closest to you, you wiped your hands on your apron before holding your hand out. Simon nearly struggled with his strength, not expecting your lack of hesitation to greet him, out of all of them.

You introduced yourself, “It’s nice to finally meet you guys.”

Ah, such a sweet voice. So sweet that had Johnny not gone on and on about your shyness, they would’ve thought you were scared of them. But, you weren’t and the proud smile on Johnny’s face says it all. 

Why wouldn’t he? With your warm smile and even willingness to shake Kyle and John’s hands as well. Albeit, you had a habit of looking down every once in a while, especially if they tried to show their respect, i.e. complimenting your cooking, the decor or you in general, it was hard not to find you endearing.

But God knows how you, of all people, manage to put up with his nonsense. 

In the words of Johnny; “Opposites attract, after all.”

And seeing it now, to say Johnny was whipped…. Was putting it lightly.

It’s funny to see Johnny trying his best when it comes to lowering his gruff voice for you, even if you loved it just the way it is.

Though he has a lot of things to tell you, so much love to give you, you have his full attention the moment your lips part.

Each time you open your mouth, he closes his. As if fearing that one word from him would mean talking over you entirely, and he couldn’t bear the thought of that. The hearts in his eyes were tough to miss. He’s expressive, too, hanging on your every word like you were giving him a task when it was just you talking about how you learnt to make the lasagna you served for dinner.

‘SHUT UP, MY BABY HAS SOMETHING TO SAY’ type of beat, but it’s the man who’s saying it that has the loudest voice (and the gentlest heart).

But they’d be lying if they said they didn’t enjoy listening to the stories of how you met and how emo Johnny gets when the dates or outings don’t go his way, even though it all went well in the end.

Why wouldn’t they enjoy seeing his soul leave his body when you mentioned his baby pictures that his mother not only showed you but gave some to you as well?

“Johnny, c’mon, now, she’s a part of the family! She’ll need some photos o’you for when you move in together soon.” Says his mother, gifting you probably a stack of them, as if unfazed by the sight of you and Johnny covering your faces, the temperature of your body heat rising that even you feared you might pass out right then and there. He couldn’t even find the energy to stop his sisters from teasing him.

But besides allowing you to embarrass him a little, even if it wasn’t your intention, your home is another.

A small unit, located on the second floor. The candlelight colour, the cute indoor plants in each room, and the seats. 

Oh, the seats.

John nearly passed out just moments after he sat on it. 

Just by the way you maximized the apartment space, it’s no wonder Johnny always looked forward to returning home. Not necessarily the apartment, but to you. 

Dare they say, the visit felt like a ‘cultural reset’ (is that what the kids are saying these days?). Largely because one; they were able to finally confirm that Mrs MacTavish is a real person and two; one cannot simply ignore the dynamic you and Johnny have. It may be eye-roll-worthy to some, but Johnny learns it isn’t something worth fighting about. So long he has you, those people can yap and nag about it all they want. 

Bonus: John’s definitely the type of person to tell Laswell about it like it was some kind of a mission—like it was almost unbelievable to see you, well, you!

“M’tellin’ ya, Laswell. As soon as his wife had something t’say, he shuts up faster than when I tell him to.” He chuckled before taking a sip of his drink.

“Sounds like a keeper to me.”

˚ · . f i n . · ˚

[vibelladonna]

✑ 𝓉𝓎𝓅𝑒 𝑜𝒻 𝒷𝑜𝓎𝒻𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓃𝒹 𝜗𝜚 𝒽𝓎𝓊𝑔𝑜

We’re back again with the “type of boyfriend” headcanons—this time for the best baby boy in TKATB. That’s right, it’s finally Hyugo’s turn. People have been asking for him (loudly), and since there’s barely any content on this chaotic rooftop menace, I figured... fine. It’s time.

𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔: 18+ NO KIDS (Adults Only) This content contains mature themes unsuitable for children. Please respect the creator's intentions. 

Also, I was only gone for like two weeks and suddenly y’all hit me with 1K followers—??? Why?? T-T

I’m not even a consistent writer, I just be vanishing like a ghost with commitment issues. But seriously, thank you. I’ll try to get to your requests after finals, once my brain cells recover from the academic warfare.

Anyway, writing him? Pain. He’s sweet, playful, has beef with the college, possibly a knife in his back pocket 24/7, and still manages to be boyfriend-coded. Balancing all that? Not easy—especially studying for finals kicking me in the face. But even while dying academically, I think I’ve got a solid grasp on him now.

Honestly? I might just become the main Hyugo writer. 

Someone has to. Let’s get into it.

[ 𝓂𝒶𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉 ]

Let’s be clear—Hyugo was the one catching feelings first.

The boy was already gone for you long before you realized what was happening. In the game, it’s mentioned he has a “certain crush,” and the way he stares a little too long or makes offhand comments about how you “remind him of someone”?

Yeah. That someone is you.

He doesn’t confess right away, though. That’s not his style. Instead, he lingers around you more often, steals your pen to “borrow it” even though he never returns it, pulls you into weird places like the rooftop “just because,” and randomly brings up your name in conversations with Sol—pretending it’s no big deal. (Spoiler: it is.)

✑ Unpredictable Lover (But With Bite)

Hyugo doesn’t ease into love. He trips, stumbles, and full-body slams into it like a cartoon character hitting a wall—and then laughs about it while nursing emotional whiplash. One minute you’re just the guy who shares notes or laughs at his dumb trivia. 

The next? He’s looking at you like you invented gravity.

When the MC reminded him of his old crush? That was it. Game over. His brain short-circuited and fully convinced itself you were his soulmate. Not in a clingy way (okay, maybe a little clingy), but in that wide-eyed, heart-hammering, "Oh, you're real? You're mine?" kind of way.

It’s not even subtle. If Sol’s the type to bottle everything up until it explodes, Hyugo’s just… holding the bottle upside down, watching it pour, and asking if you want a sip. He’ll tell you he likes you in the most offhand, dramatic, heart-melting ways—laughing as if it’s no big deal while simultaneously dying inside.

“I like you too much. It’s annoying.” cue deflection into food talk like he didn’t just ruin your emotional stability for the week

He’s drawn to people who get him—the weird parts, the unpredictable schedule, the random ass facts at 3 a.m., the way he vanishes and reappears with rare cassettes or bags of stolen berries like a chaotic little cryptid boyfriend. People who don’t try to "fix" him, but instead hand him a spoon and ask to share dessert.

He doesn’t do patterns. Doesn’t do expectations. What he does do is follow his gut, sprint into romantic territory like it’s a speedrun, and somehow still make you feel like the center of the universe—his odd little galaxy.

One day he’s got your favorite fruity snack in hand, saying, “Skip class with me. I found a crime documentary we can heckle together.” The next? He’s ghosted for two days. No texts. No calls. Reappears like nothing happened, dumps a bag of cassette tapes in your lap, and mutters, “They sounded like you. Messy but good.”

His version of sweet nothings?

“If I threatened the dean, do you think I’d get expelled or promoted?”

What.

Anyway, Hyugo’s idea of a confession is the kind of thing that makes you pause for a full ten seconds wondering if he just insulted you or proposed.

Like the time he sauntered over to you with a slice of cake in a paper napkin, tossed it on your desk, and casually said:

“I got this cake the other day and it reminded me of you. It was horrible—like, truly disgusting—but really pretty to look at.”

And then he smiled.

Not even sheepishly. Just smug. Like he thought he was being romantic.

And somehow? It kind of was.

Because beneath the trolling and chaotic delivery, there’s a genuine, rare honesty. That cake? It was real. He hated it—but he thought about you. He bought it thinking about you. He shared it, thinking that even if it sucked, he wanted you to be part of the joke, part of the moment. And that’s what Hyugo does. He doesn’t wrap his feelings in a bow—he throws them at you like a dodgeball and laughs when you flinch.

But that’s the thing: Hyugo’s love isn’t elegant. It’s not scheduled. It’s messy, spontaneous, way-too-loud, and utterly sincere. One day he’s skipping class to show you a crime documentary he downloaded illegally off a sketchy website, and the next, he’s vanished for 48 hours without a word. Then he returns like nothing happened, hands you a crumpled bag of sweets and pretty flowers and mutters:

“I don’t know. These felt like you.”

He doesn’t believe in doing things the “right” way. He believes in feeling. And if being with you makes his heart do that hiccup thing in his chest? He’s going to chase that.

His affection isn’t routine—it’s a riot. He’ll flirt by arguing with you about fictional crimes. He’ll compliment you by comparing you to garbage-eating birds. He’ll confess his feelings mid-snack, while chewing.

“I like you too much, it’s annoying. Can you pass the chips?”

And honestly? It’s kind of perfect.

Because Hyugo doesn’t do romance the normal way—he does it his way. Unhinged. Blunt. Endearing in the most unpredictable fashion.

If you can survive the whiplash of dating someone who gifts you detective movie posters, late-night existential rants, and a stolen plush frog from the student store—He’s already yours.

Sidenote, now thinking about—Let’s just say… if Sol finds out Hyugo has feelings for the MC too?

Sol is the type to internalize every emotion until it calcifies. He doesn’t say he’s upset—he just stiffens around you, goes quiet, disappears from hangouts, and starts writing darker poetry. But make no mistake: he sees everything. And Hyugo? He’s not subtle. Not even a little.

Hyugo would catch on instantly. He’d tease Sol. Not maliciously—more like poking a sleeping wolf with a stick to see if it barks.

“You’re awfully quiet, Sol. Something bothering you?”

leans a little too close to MC

“Or someone?”

And maybe he laughs. Maybe he makes a show of being the light-hearted one. But behind all that noise is a sharp, protective loyalty—Hyugo’s jokes are weapons, and he’ll use them to keep the people he cares about close.

He might pretend to flirt just to mess with Sol.

But when it comes to you? He’s serious. Hyugo doesn’t play around with the things that make his heartbeat go crooked.

If you’re the one who makes him feel free—if you accept all his chaos without trying to change him—he’ll give you everything. The good, the bad, the oddly sweet bird-themed analogies. The ugly truths he doesn’t tell anyone else.

Because once Hyugo falls?

He falls all the way. No brakes. No caution tape. No escape plan.

Just you, and a heart too loud to ignore.

✑ Smart but Soft (and a lil scary)

Hyugo’s the type who confuses people on purpose. He’s top of the class one day, doesn’t show up the next. Cracks the most complicated equation in five minutes, then sticks googly eyes on the school vending machine and blames it on aliens.

Some say he’s a delinquent. Some say he’s a genius. All anyone really knows is that Hyugo always gets things done. He’s reliable.

Strangely so. You call him at 3AM with a crisis? He shows up.

You’re in tears over nothing? He distracts you with candy and half a conspiracy theory. He’s not ashamed of affection either—not even a little. 

Hyugo doesn’t care who’s watching when he grabs your hand in the hallway, when he hugs you from behind, or when he loudly calls you embarrassing pet names in front of Sol, or pretty much anyone.

Yeah. He's that guy.

But there’s something… off about him too.

Not in a bad way. Just—off. Like, he’s always smiling. Always laughing. But sometimes you catch that flicker in his eyes that’s just a bit too sharp. Sometimes his grin feels like it’s hiding something sharp behind it. Something practiced. Like he's worn that mask for years and just got good at making it look natural.

And the truth is? You’ve seen things.

Once, after class, you were heading toward the train station shortcut—an alleyway behind the older school buildings. You didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but the voice that echoed off the brick stopped you cold. It was rough. Deep. Too serious. Too cold. Not Hyugo’s voice.

“If I catch you touching her again, I’ll carve out your throat and make you apologize with your last breath. Say ‘thank you’ for the warning.”

And then you saw him.

Hyugo. Your Hyugo.

Back pressed to some guy’s chest, hand gripping his jaw like he’d snap it clean. Not smiling. Not even blinking. Calm in a way that felt unnatural. There was a flick-knife in his hand. The same one he later used to peel an apple while lying on your floor like it never happened.

And what did you do? Nothing. You minded your business.

Like, what were you supposed to say? “Hey, babe, nice threats today! Who was the guy? Should I be worried?” Because how do you ask someone if they’re dangerous when they’re laying in your lap, pressing absentminded kisses to the inside of your wrist? When he’s curled up beside you with all his warmth and nicknames and that childish excitement in his voice whenever he finds a weird bug or sees a raccoon?

How do you bring it up when he's sweet?

When he traces your knuckles with the same fingers that curled around a knife so naturally. When he leans into your neck and mumbles, “You smell like strawberries,” like it’s a confession.

When he tells you, “Don’t ever leave me, okay?” in a tone too soft to be anything but sincere. That duality is what makes Hyugo dangerous. And irresistible.

He’s smart. Very smart. Too smart, maybe.

But beneath that chaotic, happiness-bomb energy, there’s a darkness he doesn't talk about. A history he won’t explain. All you get are glimmers—warnings painted in pretty smiles and sugar-sweet kisses. And maybe he isn’t an assassin. Maybe he just knows how to handle himself. Maybe he is too cute for that sort of thing. ...Right? Or maybe the same hands that cup your cheeks gently could, without hesitation, end someone who hurt you.

And maybe—just maybe—that’s why you feel safest right next to him.

✑ Certified Cling Wrap™

Hyugo’s a walking paradox.

He’s an extrovert, yeah. The guy who can light up a room just by showing up, who always has something weirdly fascinating to say ("Did you know slugs have four noses?"). The type who remembers everyone’s birthday, even if he doesn’t show up to class half the time. He’s fun. Loud. Chaotic.

But when it comes down to it?

There’s nowhere he’d rather be than with you.

He’d trade a party for your couch in a heartbeat. Scratch that—he wouldn’t even consider the party if you were available. You could literally say, “I’m thinking of watching a movie tonight,” and he’d be like:

“Say less. I’m bringing snacks.”

He just wants to exist in your space. Quiet or loud, chaotic or cozy, rainy or sunlit—if you’re in it, that’s where Hyugo wants to be. And when he’s there? Prepare to lose all personal space rights.

Hyugo is Certified Cling Wrap™

Affectionate in the most relentless, devoted way. He’s the kind of guy who:

Will sit on the floor beside you just so he can lean his head against your thigh while you're working.

Wraps his arms around your waist from behind while you’re cooking, swaying with you and humming some dumb made-up song about your hair smelling good.

Steals your hoodies even though he already has a closet full of his own (“Yours smell like comfort and bad decisions.”).

Sleeps like a cat in a sunbeam—curled up on you, gripping your shirt with a soft little snore in your ear.

He doesn’t care if your hair’s a mess, or if you’ve said three words all day. To him, that’s the dream. A quiet afternoon, curled up together under a blanket, him reading some wild conspiracy thread aloud like it’s bedtime poetry, your legs tangled under the coffee table—that’s his definition of paradise.

And it’s not just physical closeness.

It’s emotional, too. Hyugo pays attention.

He notices when your laugh doesn’t sound real. When your “I’m fine” isn’t. When you’re holding back tears or trying to carry more than you should. And in his own strange, lovable way, he makes it better. Sometimes it’s through chaos—dragging you out of bed at 2AM for gas station candy and an illegal rooftop view of the cityline. Maybeee say for a bit to sun rise.

Sometimes it’s through comfort—sneaking in your favorite drink with a dumb note taped to it (“Drink this or perish.”).

And sometimes, it’s just… silence.

Him resting beside you, letting his fingers run lazy circles on your arm while you process whatever’s weighing you down. Not asking for anything. Just being there.

Hyugo’s the guy who’ll whisper “I love you” into your hair when he thinks you’re asleep, just to be safe. Who calls you nicknames like he’s been doing it his whole life—“bug,” “babyface,” “sweet disaster,” depending on the mood.

Who holds your hand like it grounds him.

And maybe he’s a little too clingy. Maybe he gets pouty when you’re not around. Maybe he whines into your voicemail if you ignore his texts for too long (“I’ve withered like an unloved plant. You better come water me or I’m dying dramatically.”).

But that clinginess? It’s love. Undeniable. Raw. Real. Because Hyugo doesn’t just want to be with you. He wants to build with you. A life. A routine. A weird little bubble of shared chaos and safety and inside jokes that no one else understands.

You’re his home. Not the apartment, not the school rooftop, not the alleyways where he sometimes does questionable things.

You.

And he’ll remind you in a hundred little ways, every single day.

✑ The Ass Silly Flirt

Hyugo flirts like it’s a full-time job and he's trying to get promoted.

He’s not smooth about it either—he’s annoying. Like, he’ll text you “thinking of you 😘” and then immediately follow it up with a picture of a traffic cone wearing a wig with the caption: “This u?”

And the worst part? You laugh or offended. Every time.

He texts you non-stop, like you're both in some private group chat that never shuts up. No context. No warning. Just raw, unfiltered Hyugo brain static 24/7:

“Do you think ghosts get boners?”

“Be honest would I survive if I just ate bubblegum and vibes for a week.”

“I saw a pigeon with a limp today and now I’m emotionally compromised.”

Mid-class, 3AM, during a fire drill—he does not care. You’re getting these texts whether you're ready or not.

And the memes? OH, THE MEMES.

Hyugo’s meme game is so strong it’s criminal. He’s got folders. Archives. A whole reaction gif arsenal like he’s been preparing for emotional warfare. He sends one for every situation, no matter how inappropriate.

You text him “I’m sad.”

He sends a gif of SpongeBob playing the world’s smallest violin and follows it up with “come cuddle or perish, dramatic ass.”

It’s his love language.

He doesn’t know how to say “I care about you deeply” like a normal person—he just sends you 38 TikToks in a row and expects you to watch them all immediately and react to each one like you’re being graded.

Now. Let’s talk about The Streak™.

Y’all have had a TikTok streak going for months. At this point, it’s longer than some people’s relationships. It is sacred. And if you break it? Hyugo will take it personally. You think he’s kidding? No. This man will hit you with voice notes that sound like break-up letters. 

“Hey. So. I noticed we haven’t exchanged any TikToks in the last… 14 hours. Are you okay? Are we okay? Just let me know if you hate me now. It’s fine. I’ll just go stare out a rainy window like a Victorian widow.” You better send something—anything—before he starts live-posting his descent into madness.

Speaking of voice notes?

He loves those. You open your phone and there’s just a five-minute recording of him rambling while pacing his room like a raccoon hopped up on sugar.

“Okay so listen—I saw this guy trip on the sidewalk and somehow launch his phone into a trash can, and I SWEAR it was cinematic. Like, Academy Award level physics. Anyway I thought of you. Wanna get dinner?”

Or sometimes it’s just him humming some random song he heard in the background of a YouTube ad and begging:

“Can you find this song? Please. I’m in shambles. I don’t have Shazam and my dignity won’t survive me asking a stranger.” And you do find it. Because you love him. And because you’ve accepted that being in love with Hyugo means acting as his personal Google assistant and meme judge.

Hyugo doesn’t flirt to impress. He flirts to torment. To tease.

To infect your brain like a catchy song and live there rent-free until you’re giggling like an idiot alone in your room just because he sent you a picture of a cat with bad bangs and said, “our child if we never discipline them.”

He’s a menace. A menace with heart eyes and a clingy streak. 

He’s the kind of guy who’d write “I love you” on a bathroom mirror with lip balm and then blame it on ghosts. The type who’d kiss you mid-sentence just to watch you stutter. Who’d steal your charger but bring you snacks to “make up for it” and then never give the charger back.

In short: He’s loud. Annoying. Borderline illegal levels of clingy.

But he’s yours. And that’s kinda the best part.

✑ Tailored to You

— Words of Affirmation?

Hyugo speaks your praises like he’s reciting scripture from a holy book only he knows how to read. 

It’s constant. Casual. Deadpan-delivered and terrifyingly sincere.

You’ll be mid-rant about your day and he’ll just go:

“You're the smartest person I know, and I hang out with Sol. That man knows Latin and still doesn’t know how to say sorry. Meanwhile, you? You breathe and my brain goes ‘yeah, this is the one.’”

Sometimes he insults you, sure, but in that “I’m obsessed with you but emotionally stunted” way.

“You make me want to be a better man. Unfortunately, I’m lazy and emotionally unhinged, so you’re stuck with this version of me. Congrats.”

And don’t even think about crying in front of him. He’ll switch from “hey sexy” to “you are the most brilliant, beautiful, badass person I’ve ever met” so fast it’ll give you emotional whiplash.

— Acts of Service?

Hyugo would absolutely walk into a war zone with nothing but your to-do list and a Monster energy drink and say, “Don't worry babe, I got it.”

He’ll do your homework shockingly he’s smart asf while you nap, call customer service on your behalf (“Hi yes, my partner’s about to commit murder over a billing error, please help”), and will not let you carry your own bag if he’s around.

Did your phone die? Suddenly, his is at 92% and in your hands.

Craving something? It’s on your bed before you even finish the sentence.

Exhausted? He’s already drawing you a bath and setting a snack tray like he’s your overworked but loyal butler who’s also in love with you.

He doesn’t even act like it’s a big deal. He just shrugs and says:

“If you’re good to me, I gotta be good back. That’s the rule.”

— Receiving Gifts?

He gives gifts like he’s on a scavenger hunt where the prize is your smile. They’re not always expensive—but they are weirdly specific.

A ring from a claw machine he swears “vibes with your aura.”

A charm bracelet/ring/necklace with tiny objects representing inside jokes only the two of you understand.

An old book with your favorite quote already highlighted, because he “happened to see it and thought of you.”

A dumb little vending machine toy he’s convinced is your new emotional support trinket. And the wrapping? Forget it. He’ll give it to you in a paper towel and say,

“Presentation is for cowards. Love is raw and weird. Take it.”

— Quality Time?

This man thrives on being around you.

Not even doing anything, just existing in your orbit. He’ll lay sideways across your bed like a lizard sunbathing while you read. He’ll follow you from room to room like a haunted but affectionate cat. You’re watching a movie? He's not even watching—he’s watching you watch it. “You scrunch your nose when you get invested. It’s cute. I like it. Shut up and let me admire you.”

Wanna nap together? He’s already curled up next to you.

Want to work in silence? He’ll bring snacks and just vibe, occasionally sending you memes while sitting 3 feet away.

Your time? His favorite gift of all time. 

— Physical Touch?

Oh you want space? Too bad, babe.

Hyugo is basically a heated blanket with limbs. 

He’s all over you—shoulder leans, back hugs, thigh squeezes, lap pillows, forehead touches, neck nuzzles. He’s like Velcro with feelings. He has zero shame. “You’re soft and warm and smell like my favorite person, why wouldn’t I be on top of you right now?” And yes, those hands? Again, the same ones that once threatened someone in an alleyway after class?

Those are the ones that cup your face so gently it makes your stomach flip.

That brush your hair behind your ear. That hold your hand even in public, especially in public, with a smug little grin like he’s bragging silently: “Yeah. This is mine.”

In conclusion, Hyugo doesn’t just love you in five languages.

He’s practically multilingual in affection—loud, devoted, and unfiltered. Tailored to you. Perfectly chaotic. Inescapably real.

Want to cry a little about it later? Yeah. Me too.

✑ Tailored to Him

— Words of Affirmation?

Hyugo thrives on your praise like it’s oxygen laced with espresso.

Tell him he’s smart? He’ll preen. Tell him he’s handsome? He’ll smirk and pull you into a kiss so sweet it tastes like a dare. But whisper to him, all soft and serious, “I’m proud of you” or “You make me feel safe” and he short circuits. Full-body blush. Ears red. Eyes everywhere but on you.

He might laugh it off, say something dumb like,

“Babe, stop it, I’ll fall harder and it’s already embarrassing out here…”

But he replays your words over and over in his head. He craves your approval like it’s sacred. He doesn’t want empty compliments—he wants real ones, the ones you mean. The ones that come out when you think he’s not listening, but he always is. He remembers your voice in detail. 

If you say something sweet in the morning, expect him to bring it up casually three days later like it didn’t melt his heart into syrup.

— Physical Touch? 

Let’s not play.

He’s got the soft hands, the smug smirk, the “come here and sit in my lap while I tell you about this video game I saw played last night” voice. But under that cuddly, somewhat short golden retriever exterior is a problem in the best way.

He’ll touch you constantly—absently tugging your fingers, nosing at your neck, kissing your knuckles like some old-timey heartthrob who listens to rap music and fights demons on weekends. Bro what?

But when he wants you? Oh, he wants you.

He leans in close when he talks, voice dropping an octave, and his fingers splay against your hip like he knows what he’s doing. 

When it’s just the two of you, he goes quiet. Focused. His usual chaotic flirty energy simmers down into this heated, steady burn. And God help you if you wear something that shows your skin—because suddenly he’s behind you, dragging his fingertips along your arms, whispering in your ear with that teasing-laced purr like:

“You really gonna look like that around me and act innocent? That’s wild.”

He’s cute. But he’s also lowkey hot in that "I’d ruin you with love and cheek kisses and then also maybe leave scratch marks you didn’t know you liked" kind of way.

— Quality Time?

Hyugo’s a social creature, yeah—but you? You’re home.

He could be surrounded by people, laughing at memes, bouncing from conversation to conversation—but the moment you walk in, he shifts. Eyes locked. Energy redirected. Like you’re his true north in a galaxy of distractions.

He doesn't need an occasion. Doesn’t need a plan.

He’s the kind of guy who shows up at your door with snacks, a blanket, and zero expectations other than being near you.

Spending time with you recharges him. Whether it's lying in bed watching weird documentaries, going on midnight walks, or sitting on rooftops eating vending machine junk food—if it’s with you? 

It’s worth it.

He memorizes your routines, your reactions, your sleepy habits. He makes mental notes like:

“They like their tea a little sweeter at night.”

“They squint when reading—they need a lamp, I’ll buy one.”

“They hum that one song while brushing their teeth—learn that on guitar maybe?”

Time isn’t just time with Hyugo. It’s devotion made casual. It’s “I choose you” in every second. It’s you matter most, no matter what else I could be doing.

So yeah. Hyugo’s a mess. But he’s your mess.

He’s a walking contradiction of softness and chaos, affection and absurdity. He loves in ways that feel like warm thunderstorms—loud, unexpected, but still soothing if you know how to listen. And when he loves you, he tailors it perfectly.

Words that lift you up. Touches that say "stay." Time that says “you’re all I need.”

He’s all in. And he’ll make damn sure you feel it.

✑ Joystick Jerk 

Oh, Hyugo’s a gamer gamer.

Not some flashy streamer, not a try-hard clout chaser—no face cam, no Twitch, no mic unless it’s Discord with you or the inner circle. He doesn’t stream, and when you asked why, he just shrugged and said something cryptic like:

“Gotta keep some parts of me hidden, y’know? Too many eyes makes the game less fun.”

Which like… okay. Cool. Normal people say that.

Totally not suspicious. Definitely not assassin-coded behavior. Definitely didn’t say that while sharpening a pocketknife and humming anime opening themes under his breath.

But listen, the man’s cracked at every game you throw at him. FPS? Headshots for days. Fighting games? You blink, you lose. Racing? Don’t even try it. Even rhythm games? He gets full combos and doesn’t even break a sweat. He’s got the focus of someone who’s either a pro… or someone who’s trained their hand-eye coordination to kill a man in silence.

And worst of all? He always wants to play with you. 

And when I say always, I mean always.

“Babe, let’s do co-op, I’ll carry you.”

“Play a round with me? C’mon, I’ll give you a kiss every time you die.”

“If I win, you have to say I’m hot. If you win… okay that’s never gonna happen, but I’ll still say you’re hot.” It’s cute at first. Until you realize he never loses. Not unless he lets you win.

And yes—you noticed.

He tries to act slick about it. Pretends he “accidentally” missed that final hit or “slipped” during the last lap. But the smug look on his face gives it away every damn time.

You: “You let me win, didn’t you.”

Hyugo, grinning: “What? No way. You’re just getting better. Natural talent. Gamer instincts. Maybe I’m rubbing off on you—”

You: “I’m going to delete your save file.”

Hyugo: “Wait—WAIT I’M SORRY—”

There was a time you swore off gaming with him completely. “Sore loser? Absolutely. Certified D1 crash-out? No shame.” But lately, he’s been playing way too much.

Like… you come over and he barely looks up from his screen. Just tosses a lazy “hey babe” and keeps mashing buttons like his life depends on it. Sometimes he forgets to eat. Sometimes he forgets you’re in the room.

So what do you do? Be normal? Communicate?

Nah. You’re evil.

Beautifully, diabolically evil.

Let’s say one day, Hyugo’s deep into a match. He’s playing some online team shooter with Sol, both of them barking callouts like seasoned war generals. His voice smooth and laser-focused as he barks commands into his mic. The screen flashes with rapid gunfire, his fingers a blur over the keyboard. He’s locked in, absolutely locked in—with that deadly kind of concentration that makes you want to ruin it.

So naturally, you do.

You drop to your knees without a word and slip under his desk, the soft whir of his PC fans the only warning he gets.

At first, he doesn’t notice. At first.

Your fingers trail up his calf, slow and innocent.

Then not so innocent. You press your palms to his thighs, feel the twitch under your hands. And when you start fiddling with the buttons of his pants, he pauses—just for a second.

His voice stutters.

“Y—yeah, flank left—mnn—flank, I meant flank! Just—move, damn it!”

Sol’s voice crackles through the headset, confused: “Yo, you good?”

Hyugo clears his throat with the subtlety of a panicked cat. “Yup. Peachy. Total—nghh—focus.”

You don’t stop. If anything, you get bolder—running your nails along the seam, watching him shift in his seat, those long fingers faltering for just a beat. You don’t even need to look up to know his jaw is clenched, teeth gritted in pure restraint. You can hear it in his breath. Shaky. A little desperate.

Then, finally, a low, bitten-off sound escapes him—a moan. Not loud. But real. Raw. The kind of sound you feel low in your stomach.

“Fuck—” And still? Still he wins the match. Freak of nature. You almost applaud. “GGs, I’m out,” Hyugo mutters into the mic, voice hoarse. “Emergency. Real life critical hit.”

Click. Call ends. Silence.

Before you can even shift, he’s got one arm under your shoulders, dragging you out and straight into his lap. The headset’s tossed somewhere across the desk. The game’s forgotten. All his focus now? On you.

Those baby blue eyes? Sharp. Wicked. Burning.

“You wanna play dirty now?” he breathes, voice low, chest heaving. “You think you can tease me while I play the game with Sol and just walk away?” His hand slides up your thigh, firm and slow.

“Nah, sweetheart. You started this.”

And Hyugo?

Oh, he never leaves a game unfinished.

✑ Sugar, Spice, and Chaos

For someone who lives on the edge of unhinged and adorable, it’s no surprise Hyugo is a menace in the kitchen—but only if it involves sugar. Actual meals? Nah. He either burns them, forgets them on the stove, or looks at savory ingredients like they personally offended him. 

But sweets? Baking? That’s his love language.

He’ll never say it, but there’s something almost calming about it—the measuring, the mixing, the slow transformation of flour and butter into something warm and golden. He’s got a soft spot for berry shortcake, especially ones layered with cream and strawberries. It’s nostalgic, he once said. You don’t press further, but the way he lights up when he tastes it? 

Tells you all you need to know.

So one weekend, he drags you into the kitchen with that signature grin, sleeves rolled up, apron tied (yes, it says “kiss the baker,” yes he wore it on purpose) and says: “Today, we conquer the cake.”

You start with the cake base—he insists on doing the measuring himself, swearing he has “baker’s intuition.” You don’t argue, even when you notice him eyeballing the flour instead of using the cup.

The moment the batter’s mixed, he tastes it with a spoon like it’s a gourmet meal. Then gives you a spoonful too. 

“Here. For quality control.” It’s… actually amazing.

While it bakes, he turns the kitchen into a war zone of whipped cream, sugar, and cut strawberries. He tries to pipe roses onto parchment and ends up with something that looks suspiciously like a slug.

“Abstract art,” he claims. “Put it in a museum.”

You laugh. He grins wider.

Then comes the fun part—assembling. You’re trying to do it neatly, but Hyugo? He starts feeding you strawberries like some dramatic prince and smearing whipped cream on your nose when you’re not looking.

“Look at you,” he smirks, “cuter than the cake.”

You chase him around the kitchen with a spatula in revenge. It ends in a tie. And a kiss. (With a side of whipped cream.)

Finally, the shortcake’s done—messy, chaotic, but somehow still perfect. Just like him.

The kitchen’s a battlefield of bowls, whipped cream smears, and flour footprints. You’re both a little sticky, a little out of breath from laughing too hard, and the oven’s still faintly warm behind you. Hyugo licks a smudge of berry syrup off his thumb with the same lazy grin that always gets him his way.

You’re sitting on the counter, legs swinging, and he’s nestled between them, sharing forkfuls of cake straight from the dish. His eyes flicker up every time you chew, like he’s not watching the dessert but you enjoying it.

He hums low after a bite, leaning against your shoulder. “I’d burn water for dinner, but damn if I won’t make you the best dessert of your life.”

You snort, licking cream from the side of your lip.

“Cocky much?”

“Confident,” he says, swiping a bit of whipped cream with his finger and tapping it onto the tip of your nose. “But also a little hungry still…”

You tilted your head, lost. “For the cake?”

“Sure,” he smirks, “let’s go with that.”

He kisses it off your nose—soft and teasing. Then off your cheek. Your jaw. The corner of your mouth. Each one slower than the last. Until it’s not about the cake anymore.

You reach for the bowl of whipped cream—because why not?—and dip your fingers in it. His eyes track you like prey, curious and wide as you smear a little on the side of your neck. “Oops,” you whisper, “missed a spot.”

Hyugo freezes. Then laughs, soft and dangerous. “Oh, you really wanna start something, huh?”

The next moment is a blur—his hands are on your thighs, spreading them wider around him as he presses closer. His lips find the cream on your neck and he bites—playful at first, then deeper. Your breath catches. That baby blue gaze turns sharp, electric with mischief.

He kisses down your throat, slow and purposeful, tongue chasing the sugar and teeth chasing your pulse. You’re not even sure how the bowl got knocked over, but it doesn’t matter. The spoon clatters to the floor. Your back arches into him.

“Tastes good,” he mutters against your skin, “but you’re sweeter.”

His hands slide up under your shirt, warm and insistent. The cake is long forgotten now, half-eaten and melting beside you. His mouth is busy elsewhere—your collarbone, your shoulder, the curve where your neck meets your jaw. He’s painting you with sugar and heat, and licking every trace away.

You’re not sure who pulls who in first for the kiss, but it’s messy and desperate and just the right amount of wrong. And when he pulls back, panting, pupils blown wide?

“Kitchen’s already trashed,” he grins, voice rough, “might as well finish the job.”

Let’s just say the next round doesn’t involve frosting—but it’s still very much dessert.

✑ Partners in Cosplay (and Crime)

You knew Hyugo liked crime flicks and video games—but this? This was a full-blown obsession.

He’s not just a fan. He’s a geek. Deep in the lore, the trivia, the obscure theories that only like four people on the internet care about—and he’s friends with all four. He’s the kind of guy who can quote entire movie scenes, word for word, with the dramatic voice shifts and everything. One time he paused a shootout scene just to explain the gun model they used and how it’s “totally unrealistic, but looks so fucking cool.” His eyes literally sparkled.

So when convention weekend rolls around? Oh, he’s already packed.

Costume? Secured. Prop weapon? Custom-made.

And when he asks you to go with him? He doesn’t even care who you dress up as—just that you’re there. His partner in crime. Literally.

You pick a character that kinda matches his—maybe one from his favorite show, or the one you think would annoy his the most. Either way, when you step out in your outfit, Hyugo malfunctions. Full on, mouth open, hand to chest, “I think I just fell in love again” levels of dramatic.

You walk the con floor hand-in-hand, him constantly pulling you over to booths like a kid with too much sugar and no parental supervision. 

He buys crime-themed keychains, limited edition figures, posters with ridiculous quotes, and sketches from artist alley like his life depends on it. He compliments cosplayers like a pro—“Damn, that’s clean! Bro, how’d you make the holster?”—and flirts with you every chance he gets. “You look way too good in that outfit. You trying to kill me or get me arrested?”

By the time you get to the hotel, his and yours arms are full of merch bags, his wallet’s empty, and his energy is still sky high.

You barely make it through the door before he’s tossing his stuff onto the couch and pulling you onto the bed with him. 

Still in cosplay, the both of you. 

“Okay but like… what if our characters actually hooked up? For research purposes.”

You raise a brow. “Research?”

He just smirks and leans in closer, fingers already unbuckling whatever fake tactical vest he’s wearing.

“I’m just saying… we could be committing crimes of passion right now. Or passionately committing crimes. Whichever hits harder.”

Before you can reply, his lips are on yours, hands warm and eager as they slide beneath your costume, tugging fabric aside and leaving goosebumps in his wake. He kisses like he’s still acting in character—cocky, sharp, teasing—but with that unmistakable Hyugo sweetness that always slips through.

“I can’t get enough of you,” he whispers between kisses, “real talk.” And when you end up tangled in a mess of half-off cosplay and breathless laughter, his voice is low and rough in your ear:

“Next year? We’re going all out. Couple cosplay. New characters. New roles. New positions—wait, did I say that last one out loud?”

You’re pretty sure he’s still joking… mostly.

✑ He’s Pansexual (lil angst)

Hyugo is pansexual—genuinely and unapologetically so.

He doesn’t care if someone’s masculine, feminine, both, neither, fluid, strange, loud, quiet, or something the world hasn’t learned how to label yet. If he’s drawn to you, it’s because you’re you—your voice, your presence, the way you move through a room, the look in your eyes when you’re focused, angry, glowing, grieving. He falls in love with essence, not gender.

“I don’t give a damn what you are on paper,” he once told you, head resting on your stomach, fingers playing with the hem of your shirt. “I like what you are to me. And that? That’s something nobody else gets to have.”

He says it so confidently, like it’s not even up for debate. 

Because it isn’t. But love—real love—terrifies him.

Hyugo plays it cool, because he’s always been good at pretending. But when he lets himself really care for someone? It unlocks this whole hidden, trembling part of him that he usually buries beneath bad jokes and gaming trash talk. That part of him that lies awake sometimes, staring at the ceiling, scared out of his goddamn mind that one day the world might take you away from him.

“I don’t… live a quiet life,” he admitted once, when things between you were still new, still fragile. “I got people who know my name and don’t say it fondly. I got enemies. I got… unfinished things. If I ever pull back, disappear for a while… it’s not ‘cause I’m tired of you. It’s ‘cause I’m trying to protect you.”

You hadn’t said anything right away.

Just looked at him—really looked—while he sat still, shoulders tight, like every second of silence chipped away at his confidence. Like he was bracing himself for you to sigh, to shake your head, to say you didn’t sign up for this.

Like he’d seen it happen before.

Because he had.

People have left Hyugo before. Screaming matches or messy, dramatic exits or Just… quietly. Gradually. Like a candle flickering out in a room he hadn’t realized had gone cold.

Some said he was “too much”—too chaotic, too unreachable, too unpredictable. Others didn’t say anything at all. They just disappeared. Let go without warning. Walked out while he was still holding on.

So when he opened up to you, even a little—when he admitted how messy his life was, how much danger it might bring, how scared he was of dragging someone good into his world—it wasn’t just a warning.

It was a test. And he hated that it had to be.

But you didn’t walk away.

And something in him cracked open for you after that. Slowly, cautiously—but it opened. Still, there are moments… quiet, stupid moments where the fear creeps back in. When someone else’s eyes linger on you a little too long. When your attention slips away for just a beat too long. When you laugh with someone else in a way that used to be his alone.

And then? Hyugo gets quietly possessive.

Not cruel. Not jealous in the way that burns everything down. But in the way that digs in—firm, unyielding, scared in the places he refuses to show.

He’ll pout first, like it’s all fun and games. Arms crossed, an exaggerated sigh, brows cocked high with all the drama of a man auditioning for a bad soap opera.

“You ignoring me now? Damn, babe. Who’s this new cast member and what do they have that I don’t? ‘Cause I will up my stats. I’m not above DLC bribes.”

But if the other person gets too bold?

That’s when the shift comes. Subtle, but sharp.

His fingers slide to your waist, grounding himself in your warmth like he’s afraid you’ll slip away. His voice softens, drops an octave—but there’s steel under the silk now. His whole energy changes, like a storm smiling through the sunlight.

“That guy’s not gonna steal you away, right?”

The words brush your skin just before his lips do, heat trailing over your neck, a kiss so casual it feels like a claim.

“I mean… you are mine, yeah?”

It’s not a threat. Not a demand. 

It’s a plea he doesn’t know how to voice.

Because he doesn’t want to trap you—he wants to be chosen. Every day. Every hour. Loudly. With intention. Just like he chooses you.

Even when the world’s unfair. Even when he’s neck-deep in shady jobs, fractured loyalties, or the weight of who he used to be. Even when he’s afraid. He’ll still love you like it’s the only thing keeping him real. Because Hyugo doesn’t care what you are. Only that you’re his. And yeah… sometimes he still wonders if he’s too much to stay with. 

But damn if he won’t spend the rest of his life giving you every reason to stay anyway.

✑ Flaws? Suprisingly there’s only Two…

Again—no one is perfect.

Hyugo’s learned, consciously or not, that being the comic relief, the sunshine, the dependable one earns love and keeps people around. So that’s the role he plays. Laughing through pain. Masking exhaustion with trivia. Brushing off his own needs with a practiced smile.

Which is a classic avoidant coping style, often stemming from early experiences where expressing pain or emotional needs either resulted in abandonment, punishment, or dismissal. He’s not unaware of his hurt—he just doesn’t believe there’s space for it. Or that anyone will stay if they see it. So he internalizes the belief:

“If I keep everyone happy, if I’m useful and entertaining, they won’t leave.” But emotional suppression is a time bomb. Eventually, the mask cracks.

It started small. Missed texts. Delayed replies. A few vague excuses about errands or errands or “sorry, I fell asleep.” But the dark circles under his eyes weren’t from sleep.

And you knew it.

So when you drop by his place unannounced and find him sitting on the edge of his bed, shirt halfway off, eyes glazed over in thought—You don’t say anything. You just step in quietly and sit next to him.

“Didn’t expect you,” he says, voice soft. He smiles—but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “I look like a mess, huh?”

You don’t reply to the joke. You just ask, “Are you okay?”

That’s when it happens.

A twitch in his jaw. A flicker of discomfort. A sharp inhale. “Yeah. I’m fine. Just thinking. Long week, y’know?” Then a quick subject change: “Hey, did you know in some countries, strawberries used to symbolize perfection? Which is kinda dumb, 'cause they bruise so easily—”

You cut him off gently. “No trivia tonight, Hyugo.”

He goes quiet. The tension in his shoulders rises like a tide. He won’t look at you. Just stares at the floor like it might rescue him from the weight settling in his chest. “I’m good,” he says again. But softer this time. “I have to be. I don’t really get to fall apart. People expect me to… I dunno. Handle things. Be cool. Be funny. Be the guy who keeps the mood light.”

You put your hand on his knee. Anchor him. Pull him back from wherever he’s floating off to. “You’re allowed to fall apart sometimes.”

He lets out a bitter laugh. It cracks midway through. His head drops, and for the first time in a long while—he doesn’t hide the exhaustion. “But if I do… what if you leave too?”

And that’s the real fear. Not pain. Not stress. Abandonment.

You pull him in. Let him lean on you. His arms wind around your waist like he’s scared you’ll vanish if he loosens his grip. And for a while, neither of you speak.

Eventually, he murmurs, “You’re the only one I want to be weak with. That’s… scary. More than anything else I’ve done.” And he means it.

He’s not fixed. Not magically “healed.” 

But tonight, he let himself be seen. And that’s the start of something more powerful than any armor he’s ever worn.

Next is that, Hyugo doesn’t just love.

He attaches—deeply, instinctively, and without conditions. The people he chooses are more than friends, more than lovers—they’re extensions of his purpose. And if protecting them means lying, fighting, getting hurt, or burning bridges?

He’ll do it. No regrets. No hesitation.

This stems from survivor’s guilt and a deep-rooted sense of self-worth that’s tied to usefulness. In his head, if he isn’t saving someone, then what is he even for? There’s a quiet belief that he’s more tool than treasure—someone meant to hold the line so others don’t have to.

But in doing so, he forgets:

You love him for who he is. Not what he can suffer through for you.

You’d told him not to come. 

You made it clear: “I’ll handle this. Don’t get involved.”

But that was like telling a storm not to rain. The moment he caught wind of someone cornering you—someone threatening, someone bigger—Hyugo was already halfway to the alley behind the gym building, jaw tight, mind made up.

By the time you arrived, breath ragged and furious, the guy was on the ground. Groaning. Bloody lip. Hyugo stood over him, fists clenched and knuckles torn open.

He didn’t even look at you at first. He just said,

“Don’t worry. I handled it. He won’t bother you again.”

But you didn’t feel safe. You felt sick.

Not because he lost control—but because this wasn’t his burden to bear, and he didn’t even stop to think about the cost. “Hyugo,” you said, your voice shaking, “what if he presses charges? What if someone saw?”

He finally looked at you. Eyes wild. Heart still in war mode. But his expression softened when he saw the pain in your face—not from fear of him. From fear for him. “I didn’t care,” he said honestly. “I still don’t. No one’s hurting you. Not while I’m breathing.”

That should’ve made you feel safe.

But instead, it made your chest ache.

You stepped closer, grabbing his bloodied hands. They trembled slightly against yours. “You don’t get to set yourself on fire every time someone throws a spark near me.”

He blinked. Confused. Quiet. And that silence? That was the part that stung most—Because it told you he genuinely didn’t see the problem.

You reached up, cupping his face. “You think I want to watch you destroy yourself in my name? You think that’s love?”

His throat bobbed with the effort of swallowing guilt. But he didn’t pull away.

You added, softer: “You’re not a weapon. You’re my heart. And I want all of it. Whole. Safe. With me.” That was the moment he broke—just a little.

He leaned forward, forehead resting against yours. “...I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I just… I didn’t know how else to protect you.”

You held him tighter. “By letting me protect you, too.”

This flaw will never fully go away. It’s wired into how he loves. But now? He’s learning there’s strength in restraint. That protecting someone doesn’t always mean throwing himself into every fire. Sometimes, it means staying close.

And staying whole—so he can keep loving you tomorrow, too.

✑ Thoughts + Ranting

Okay. So I said Hyugo only had two major flaws.

...I lied. It’s three. Sue me.

There’s one I didn’t name before. One that’s not easy to admit, even if it’s written all over him like an unspoken scar. Here it is: Hyugo is a perfect example of someone who’s been sexualized—and who learned to play into it, because it was the only way he ever felt seen.

But let’s set the record straight, because the internet loves to twist things: I’m not saying he’s a pervert. Absolutely not. Don’t even try it. This isn’t a man hiding in your closet or panting in your bushes. He’s not creeping in the dark. (Save that energy for Sol and his dramatic, stalker-coded tendencies—respectfully.) 

Hyugo isn’t that type of man.

What he is, is someone who developed hypersexual behavior—something that’s often misunderstood. Hypersexuality isn’t about being horny all the time for fun. It’s an intense, sometimes compulsive fixation on sex or sexual behavior, often as a way to cope. It’s not inherently predatory, and it’s not inherently wrong. But it is a reaction. 

A symptom. And in Hyugo’s case, it’s a wound.

See, I was sitting in class when the thought hit me like a truck: What if people really do treat Hyugo like a walking fantasy? A quick fix? A body to burn through and discard before sunrise? What if that’s how he’s always been viewed—never as a person, just a fleeting high, a secret, a sin?

Because that kind of dehumanization sticks. 

It doesn’t fade. It etches itself into the softest parts of you until you believe it too. And maybe, just maybe, Hyugo learned somewhere along the line that his worth lies in how easily he can be desired—not in who he is, but what he can do for others. What he can give.

He doesn’t feel loved. He feels used. And to protect himself, he leans into it. Becomes somewhat flirt, the temptation, the chaotic late-night call you regret in the morning. Not because it’s what he wants—but because at least this way, he’s not being rejected. He’s being chosen, even if it’s for all the wrong reasons.

And that’s why he can’t let you go.

Because you didn’t treat him like a performance. 

You didn’t treat him like a transaction. You saw through the chaos and the charm and found the person. The equal. The soul. The boy who still believes in love, even if he’s too scared to admit it out loud.

You made him feel real.

Sidenote—completely unrelated to everything I just said—but I can’t stop thinking about the fact that Hyugo lost his virginity to a man.

Fantasia said it. I’m not taking it back. It wasn’t for shock value. It’s canon. It means something. It says something about him—and the more I sit with it, the more it adds layers to his character that I can’t ignore.

First of all, it confirms what we already sensed: Hyugo’s pansexual. He doesn’t box his heart or desires into categories. He loves people, not parts. He's comfortable in his skin, open with his identity, and doesn’t shrink himself to make others comfortable. He owns who he is with that same bold, cheeky confidence he brings to everything else. And that kind of honesty? It’s rare. He doesn’t make a show of it. He just is. Unapologetically.

But here’s where it gets tangled in my head—I keep wondering about the context.

Was it a casual hookup? Something spontaneous, wild, and curious, sparked by the need to feel alive or wanted in a moment of vulnerability? Or was it more than that? Did he love this person? Did they matter to him in a way that left a mark? Could this have been the crush he mentioned once, the one he speaks about with that strange softness, like he’s remembering something half-sweet, half-sore?

Did it end suddenly? Did it end at all?

There’s something quietly haunting about the idea that Hyugo’s first time wasn’t just a physical milestone, but an emotional one too. Maybe it was one of the only times he gave himself to someone not as a game, not as a performance—but as a person. Whole. Nervous. Real.

And maybe it didn’t last. Maybe it broke him a little. Maybe that’s where the cracks started—where he learned that intimacy and pain can exist in the same breath. That being vulnerable doesn’t always lead to safety. That being wanted doesn’t always mean being kept.

That’s why it sticks with me. Not because it’s scandalous.

But because it’s human.

And in Hyugo’s story, humanity is the one thing he keeps offering—despite how often the world tries to strip it from him.

Let’s take it deeper—Hyugo and… Geo.

I know I never shut up about Geo (he’s my husband, deal with it), but this isn't just about gushing over him. There’s something worth unraveling here. Something that speaks to how trauma doesn’t create a blueprint—it creates a battlefield. Two people can grow up in the same wreckage, and walk away with completely different scars.

See, Hyugo and Geo? They’re two halves of a shared history. 

Geo likes to say they’re stepbrothers—like that somehow distances them, makes the connection less binding. But let’s be honest: blood means nothing when you’ve been raised under the same roof, weathered the same storms, and built your sense of self from the same broken foundation.

That’s your brother.

That’s family. Whether you want to admit it or not.

And that’s the thing with Geo—he doesn’t want to admit it. Cold, closed-off, “don’t touch me unless it’s about business” 

Geo would rather die than openly acknowledge Hyugo as his older brother. But that truth lives in his bones. It’s there in the way he bristles when Hyugo’s hurt, in the way he silently watches over him from across a room, like a knight who doesn’t want to be caught caring. And Hyugo? He knows. He never says it outright, never demands affection or acknowledgment. But he knows. Geo is his little brother. End of story.

What’s fascinating—and heartbreaking—is how differently they responded to the same trauma.

Geo shut down. Became all logic and sharp edges. He put walls up so high no one could climb over, and he keeps his emotions buried so deep even he forgets where he left them. He’s aromantic/asexual, what if he’s emotionally scarred to the point of numbness, one thing’s certain: Geo is the embodiment of survival through detachment. He chose silence over softness. 

Distance over danger.

Meanwhile, Hyugo? Did the opposite. If Geo’s pain froze him solid, Hyugo’s set him on fire. He threw glitter over his wounds. Covered the screaming with laughter, with noise, with affection that sometimes feels like too much—until you realize it’s the only way he knows how to ask, “Will you stay? Will you care?”

That’s why people call him two-faced. 

Why they mistake his flirtation for manipulation, his touch for control. But it’s not conquest. It’s not about power. It’s about connection. About feeling real in a world that kept trying to erase him. Hyugo wants to be loved, and not just in passing. He wants to be seen—fully, achingly, intimately.

So yeah. In my eyes, Hyugo’s hypersexual.

But not in the shallow, performative way people think. It’s not about predation. It’s not about conquest or control. It’s about feeling. About proving to himself that he’s real, that he matters, that someone sees him and still stays.

Every touch is deliberate.

Every kiss is a question: Do I still exist to you?

When Hyugo reaches for someone, it’s like he’s trying to anchor himself to this world before it slips away again. 

Because to him? Intimacy is safety. Desire is reassurance.

And love—true love—is survival.

When he touches you, he’s not just touching skin—he’s tracing the shape of a future where he doesn’t have to be afraid. When he looks at you, it’s not lust—it’s hunger for warmth, for stability, for someone who doesn’t leave.

You don’t become his partner. You become his reason. His rescue.

And once you have Hyugo’s heart?

There’s no in-between. No lukewarm affection. He’s all in. No backup plan. No armor. Just him—raw and real and terrified that you’ll disappear too. Loving Hyugo means being chosen. Means being seen in a way that strips you down to the bone, and yet somehow, makes you feel more whole than ever before.

It’s intense. It’s overwhelming. But it’s never fake.

Now pair that with his two-faced nature—the side of him people whisper about. The switch that flips from sunshine to shadow in a blink. Because yeah, Hyugo can be the kindest soul you’ve ever met.  Soft, attentive, radiant. But cross a line? Or worse—betray him?

He’ll smile while slicing you in half with words sharp enough to scar your soul. That duality isn’t an act. It’s survival.

One face to charm the world. The other to protect what little of himself he hasn’t already given away. 

And the reason that duality even exists? Because Hyugo grew up in the same haunted house as Geo. Same broken floorboards. Same locked doors. Same silence. But while Geo turned cold, Hyugo became heat.

One froze to survive. The other burned.

And they’re still bleeding from it. Two brothers.

Two different coping mechanisms. Same pain—processed on opposite ends of the spectrum. So call Hyugo hypersexual. Call him two-faced. But don’t you dare call him fake. He’s just trying to feel something real. And in this world? 

That makes him one of the bravest souls I’ve ever known.

[tea-writes19]

yes | poly!b.b. s.w. j.t.

pairing: bucky barnes x sam wilson x joaquin torres x f!reader

summary: your followers are confused on who you are dating

warnings: established relationship(s), polyamorous relationship, swearing, fluff, pure crack tbh, comedy, suggestive content

a/n: this is purely for my own enjoyment. please be aware of the warnings and pairing. don’t like don’t read. okay that’s all, enjoy :)

liked by joaquintorres, samwilson, buckybarnes, and others

yourusername: word of advice: don’t go camping with bucky

tagged: @/samwilson @/joaquintorres @/buckybarnes

view comments below

user1: oh to be y/n

user2: fr i wanna be friends with the avengers too

user3: wait i thought she was dating one of them?

user4: no lol they’re just friends

user5: nah she’s def sleeping w/ one of them

user6: sam’s face😭😭

user7: he looks so annoyed😭

joaquintorres: legend has it sam is still on that rock pouting bc we woke him up to watch the sunrise

samwilson: maybe i would’ve been less grumpy if bucky hadn’t made us hike 3 miles to see it…

yourusername: lol ok mr. i haven’t had my morning coffee yet

buckybarnes: i didn’t force you to come with

samwilson: your exact words were (and i quote) get your ass up or else

user8: 😭😭

samwilson: i distinctly remember you groaning the whole time up too

yourusername: maybe, but you don’t have any proof

joaquintorres: uhhhhh….

user9: seeing joaquin’s post first makes this comment section even funnier

user10: wait what did joaquin post??

user9: a pic of y/n looking grumpy watching the sunrise

user10: omg i’m dying😭😭

user11: same!

buckybarnes: i’m not that bad

yourusername: doubt but ok

joaquintorres: liar liar pants on fire

user12: i’m starting to think bucky is that bad

user13: frfr

samwilson: STARTING TO?!?

liked by samwilson, buckybarnes, yourusername, and others

joaquintorres: not pictured: me losing feeling in my legs

tagged: @/yourusername @/buckybarnes @/samwilson

view comments below

yourusername: damn i see how it is

samwilson: haha take that!!

joaquintorres: sorry love but sam bribed me w/ a new flight manoeuvre

yourusername: it’s ok guess i’ll just go kms😔

user14: love?👀

user15: y/n we love you please don’t kys

user16: #justicefory/n

user17: are you dating y/n?

user18: omg they’re just friends

user19: he called her love so…

user20: aw i was kinda hoping it was sam

user21: #teamjoaquin stays winning

samwilson: not pictured: how you lost said feeling in your legs

yourusername: ^^^

joaquintorres: i don’t think insta allows that kind of activity

buckybarnes: didn’t stop sam last time

user22: AYY YO WHAT??!!

user23: OH MY GOD

user24: SAMUEL ARE YOU IMPLYING WHAT I THINK YOU’RE IMPLYING

user25: i’m so confused rn…

user26: wait are sam and joaquin together???

user27: not bucky mentioning storygate tho🫢

peterparker: i love being left out😒

yourusername: pete you know damn well why you were left out

peterparker: doesn’t make my fomo hurt any less

samwilson: you can come with next time instead of buck

buckybarnes: YOU’RE GOING TO REPLACE ME WITH THE KID?!?!

samwilson: yes

liked by yourusername, joaquintorres, peterparker, and more

samwilson: this trip would have been better without bucky

tagged: @/buckybarnes @/joaquintorres @/yourusername

view comments below

yourusername: say it louder for those in the back🗣️

user28: not all of them hating on bucky😭😭

user29: like sir what did you do?!?

buckybarnes: none of you appreciate me and it shows

yourusername: i thought i showed my appreciation perfectly fine last night🤨

joaquintorres: maybe don’t take us hiking for 5 days straight next time…

user30: HELLO??? Y/N!?!

user31: y’all wanna share smth with the class👀

user32: wdym by that y/n huh?

user33: i was going to say their friend group is so wholesome but after y/n's comment idk anymore

user34: lmao fr

user35: same like didn’t joaquin call her love in a comment on his post???

user36: maybe it’s just a nickname and she’s really dating bucky?

user35: what FRIENDS call each other love?!?

peterparker: me watching everyone in the comments freaking out be like: 🫢☕️

user37: tell us what you know!!!

samwilson: gotta keep em on their toes

user38: spill the beans peter…

liked by joaquintorres, samwilson, yourusername, and others

buckybarnes: i for one had a lovely time

tagged: @/yourusername @/joaquintorres @/samwilson

view comments below

samwilson: ofc you did😒

yourusername: i liked it when you let us take a break that one time

joaquintorres: best 2 mins of my life

user39: are y’all ok?😭😭

yourusername: no :)

user40: wait a sec…are those y/n’s legs in the hammock??

user41: +1 point for #teambucky

user42: i’m starting to think it’s a throuple situation or smth bc what😭

user43: you’re so real for that

user44: are you or are you not dating y/n

buckybarnes: …

user45: that wasn’t a no!

liked by joaquintorres, peterparker, buckybarnes, and others

yourusername: morning workouts >>>

tagged: @/buckybarnes @/joaquintorres

view comments below

user50: i think a little more than working out is going on girlie

user51: ^^^

joaquintorres: wdym that’s working out too…

user52: SIR—

buckybarnes: workouts without sam >>>

samwilson: I WAS TIRED YOU FUCK

yourusername: god just kiss already🙄

joaquintorres: who says they aren’t rn

yourusername: wait you right…it’s been awfully quiet

user53: OH

user54: ayy yo what’s bucky and joaquin doing👀

joaquintorres: working out duh

buckybarnes: duh🙄

user55: 😭😭

user56: two guys working out zero feet apart bc they’re gay

buckybarnes: so close…we’re bisexual

user56: my bad

user56: two guys working out zero feet apart bc they’re bisexual

joaquintorres: there we go👍

peterparker: oh would you look at that, i was left out again…

yourusername: PETE YOU HAD SCHOOL

buckybarnes: get off your phone and pay attention in chem

peterparker: the fact you know my schedule is slightly disturbing

user57: only slightly?

peterparker: everything mr. barnes does is scary

user57: valid

yourusername: even me🥺

peterparker: especially you

yourusername added to their story —>

[caption: guess where we’re going, wrong answers only!]

story replies

joaquintorres: the moon to visit steve

yourusername: we’re flying to the moon in our favorite rocketship

joaquintorres: zooming through the sky, little einsteins!

user58: rfk jrs swear-in

user59: bahamas?

user60: so are you and sam dating?

peterparker: ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME

liked by joaquintorres, buckybarnes, samwilson, and others

yourusername: italy i love you and your cats

tagged: @/joaquintorres @/buckybarnes @/samwilson

view comments below

user61: GIRL WHO ARE YOU DATING???

yourusername: yes

user62: yes to who?????

yourusername: yes

user63: oh my god

user64: are they…all dating each other???

user65: quick where’s the girl who predicted this

user42: i’m here🙋‍♀️

user66: you know what, good for them

user67: get that d y/n

user68: damn girl leave some for the rest of us😭😭

yourusername: meet my friend peter @/peterparker

peterparker: wait what

joaquintorres: i don’t think i’ve ever seen bucky and sam so close to murdering each other and us before

peterparker: that’s bc you weren’t at the airport in 2016

yourusername: ^^^

yourusername: if looks could kill we’d be dead rn

buckybarnes: if you guys had taken 5 minutes longer i would’ve cannibalised sam

samwilson: man come on

user69: how yellowjackets of you

yourusername: i promise you he doesn’t understand that reference

joaquintorres: but we do and we agree

user70: damn i wanna go to italy now

user71: i can’t believe we got cap polycule before gta 6

user72: the tumblr girlies are going to go crazy

user73: it’s like destiel becoming canon again over there

user74: it’s already trending😭😭

peterparker: why do i even bother to talk to y’all anymore

yourusername: bc you love us

samwilson: atp you’re our adopted son

buckybarnes: i don’t want stark’s kid tf

buckybarnes added to their story —>

[caption: because y/n hard-launched us as the kids these days would say]

story replies

user75: please which one is teaching you slang😭

joaquintorres: yay i beat out the other two

samwilson: this is pure favoritism

buckybarnes: i didn’t see you complaining last night…

yourusername: joaquin is never going to let this go😔

user76: first ever story and its confirmation of the polycule

user76: god i love it here

liked by buckybarnes, joaquintorres, yourusername, and more

samwilson: venice (feat. y/n making us stop to pet every cat she saw)

tagged: @/yourusername @/joaquintorres @/buckybarnes

view comments below

user77: y/n is so valid for that

user78: my fav polycule

user79: i love how we’re all just like yeah, makes sense

user80: tbf it does make so much sense

user81: we were all wondering who y/n was fucking when really they were all fucking each other

yourusername: bucky said we could keep one!

samwilson: i swear to god if i find a cat in your carry on y/n…

yourusername: uhh i have to go

buckybarnes: my exclusion from the post is payback for my story isn’t it?

samwilson: good to see your brain works sometimes buck!

user82: oof someone get some water for that burn

user83: so does this mean alpine is getting a friend?

samwilson: no

buckybarnes: yes

yourusername: yes

liked by yourusername, buckybarnes, samwilson, and others

joaquintorres: we in the spaghetto!

tagged: @/samwilson @/yourusername @/buckybarnes

view comments below

yourusername: PASTA PASTA

user84: the caption😭😭

user85: i need to know the reason behind slide 2

joaquintorres: sam was yelling at us bc of the cat😔

yourusername: he’s trying to make us get rid of her

buckybarnes: he’s being very rude to gelato

samwilson: WE CAN’T JUST GRAB A CAT OFF THE STREET AND SHIP IT BACK TO THE USA

yourusername: not with that attitude you can’t

user86: live laugh love the spaghetto

user87: omg i love that tiktok😭

peterparker: i call dibs on being gelato’s godfather

joaquintorres: that’s your sister

samwilson: i can’t believe i’m a father of three

buckybarnes: i’m still not acknowledging the kid as mine

liked by samwilson, yourusername, joaquintorres, and more

buckybarnes: they complained about this trip a lot less

tagged: @/joaquintorres @/yourusername @/samwilson

view comments below

joaquintorres: i’m not saying it’s because we had running water but that’s exactly what i’m saying

buckybarnes: i still question why you joined the air force sometimes

samwilson: damn so that’s how you want to play huh

buckybarnes: i don’t know what you’re talking about🧑‍🦯

user88: please tell me that’s gelato🥹

yourusername: sadly no but i wanted to keep this one too

user89: love how y/n is petting a different cat in each post

user90: she’s one with the cats

user91: the cat-whisperer fr

yourusername: damn that’s a good pic of me

peterparker: narcissistic behavior

yourusername: you would be too if you were me

user92: you go queen!!

user93: i’m loving the self confidence!

yourusername added to their story —>

[caption: welcome home gelato🫶🏻]

story replies

user94: stop she’s so cute🥹🥹

user95: omg adorable🤍

peterparker: i love my baby sister

© tea-writes19 do not repost, translate, or copy

[joyswonderland1108]

Jikook went on a (contractually obligated) world tour and left the fandom in a meltdown.

Okay first of all… I already know this post is going to be a mess because I have too much to say, zero organization skills. I might forget things. I might not include pictures or links or videos, but buckle up anyway. Bear with me as I unleash this demon.

🔙 Let’s rewind to pre-military: Our contractual husbands Jikook decided to soft-launch their little pre-enlistment honeymoon—hitting up NYC, Sapporo, and Jeju. Cute, romantic, iconic. And the outcome? Oh nothing… just Are You Sure (™), aka Jikook’s intimate masterpiece, sealed with soul-touching glances and lingering camera pans. Then they enlisted. TOGETHER. Are we surprised? No. Are we gagged? Always.

⌛ Fast forward to post-military: Now of course Jikook had a lil pre-discharge Tokyo getaway but ANYWAYS. Discharge time. Our boys come back looking like they drank from the fountain of youth. They do a little live, they breathe the same air again, and everything’s peaceful. Until.

✈️ Enter the chaos: Jungkook is spotted at Incheon airport. "Alone", allegedly going to the US. All good. Everyone’s like “Omg music project??” But then boom—plot twist. A Thai ARMY shares that her friend, fresh off Hobi’s concert, going back home, saw BOTH JK and Jimin at the airport. JK was walking ahead, Jimin behind. Translation? They left together. But guess what? The first airport report came from a JK solo, because OF COURSE she conveniently forgot to mention the part where Jimin was there too. Color me SHOCKED.

So yeah, now we know they both flew to NYC. Together. Again.

🕵🏻‍♀️ First sighting: A Jimin stan named Emily (who also saw them in 2023—God clearly has favorites) shares that she saw Jikook again in 2025, so now people are calling her a liar. Suddenly she’s under FBI interrogation for… not knowing every step of their enlistment timeline?? Because apparently you need to submit an entire academic paper and prove you’ve memorized BTS’ enlistment schedule before you’re allowed to tweet a damn celebrity sighting. Like girl she saw them, she shared it, she wasn’t in their faces. The TL: “Why is she pretending not to know them if she’s a Jimin stan???” Me: I don’t care if she pretends JK is a barista named Jeff. I don’t care if she called JK “some dude” and pretended not to know him. She wasn’t in their personal space. She didn’t call him names. It’s giving: solo behavior but harmless. Next.

🍜 Second sighting: Someone named “Emma” sees them in a restaurant and mentions they were wearing masks. Cue the stupidity: “Why would they wear masks while eating?” “How could she see Jimin smiling with a mask on?” Babe. People keep masks on until their food arrives. And smiles reach the eyes. Try covering your mouth and smiling. Go ahead Barbara, I’ll wait. The math is not mathing because y’all skipped common sense class.

🌪 Then silence. No news. Just heavy TL speculation: Are they filming “Are You Sure?” season 2? A GCF? An OST? A honeymoon vlog?

Suddenly someone drops the bomb

🦢They were seen in Zurich, Switzerland (or Zermatt?). Feeding ducks. Or swans. Or both. Maybe petting unicorns too who knows. Then the moral panic kicks in: “Take it with a grain of salt!!” NO. Enough with the salt. Girl, if y’all keep sprinkling salt on everything, don’t complain when the fandom ends up with high blood pressure. Too much sodium will kill you. You’re not chefs. Sit down.

👼🏻But the best part? The fandom saints returned from their caves:

“Don’t share this!”

“Respect their privacy!”

“Protect their privacy!” “In a public park?” YEAH!!

Respect their privacy from a 50-meter distance in a public European city? As if sightings don’t happen to celebrities all over the world? As if people don’t tweet “OMG I just saw Timothée Chalamet at Whole Foods” every two days on main? Apparently celebrities outside, walking on the same streets you walk on, breathing the same air, is now a privacy breach. Okay.

But also? God forbid someone posts a pic or video to confirm these sightings because y’all will be sprinting to your report pages like Olympic athletes. But if the video never comes, you’ll scream “they’re lying!” You can’t have it both ways.

📲 THEN. Jimin drops a video on Instagram dancing to Killin’ It Girl, filmed by none other than the contractually obligated cameraman Jungkook. It’s adorable. He’s giggling. Jimin’s serving. The internet breaks. We cry. We scream. We sob into our pillows. And THEN reposts it to his story with “This is what I mean by killin’ it boy…” I screamed. I ascended. I reincarnated.

Of course, the fandom Sherlock Holmes committee identifies the hotel they stayed at. AND AGAIN, the fake moralists started hyperventilating: “This is creepy!! How dare you post the hotel?? That’s their privacy!” Girl. Be serious. Jimin posted that after they had left. You think BTS debuted yesterday? You think Jimin doesn’t know how this works? They’ve been dealing with this for a decade. And riddle me this: Where was that energy when JK posted his birthday flirtation video and the hotel was ID’d in ten minutes while they were still actively staying there?? Y’all had the hotel, the floor plan, the room view, and the carpet texture identified within 20 minutes? Crickets. That’s what I thought.

🛬Hours later, Jikook are spotted in Da Nang airport, Vietnam. which confirmed they had already left Switzerland. And only THEN, pictures and videos from their time in Zurich started dropping.

Cue new moral panic:

“Wait until they leave before sharing.” …but also:

“Don’t share at all. Ever. Even when they’ve left.”

So what is it then? What are the rules? Because you sure weren’t this pressed in 2023 when they were spotted going to/leaving from Antoya and dancing on a boat with their souls intertwined and y’all were posting 4K footage? That wasn’t privacy? Suddenly “privacy” only matters when you decide it?

Also: no one was filming them inside their hotel room. (Well… JK was. But you get the point.)

Now let’s talk about the xenophobic meltdown. The moment those Da Nang airport pics dropped, the TL turned on Vietnamese fans like they were the villains in a dystopian novel. Some pictures and videos dropped while they were still there. Yes, taken from a respectful distance. No one up in their face. But ideally? Yes, wait until they’ve left.

But the TL’s reaction? UNHINGED.

People dragging Vietnamese ARMYs through the mud. Calling them “stalkers”? Excuse me??? Entire populations got slandered when the actual leaker turned out to be a cultist. But instead of correcting the misinformation and calling them out, people kept slandering Vietnamese fans. Instead of holding one individual accountable, y’all dragged an entire fandom base and disrespected a whole country. I saw Vietnamese ARMY hurt, insulted, and heartbroken over this, and rightfully so. Shame on everyone who joined that bandwagon.

🏠Now they’re back in South Korea, spotted again at Incheon. And let me tell you, they were looking fresh, healthy, adorable, sweet, couple-coded and annoyingly perfect. JK making sure Jimin got his shoes back?? I’m fine. I’m not crying. It’s allergies. . Speculations now say they’re back for Jin’s concert. Will they travel again soon? Maybe. Will I be ready with popcorn when they do? Yes.

🖼️ Oh and before I forget — Jimin posted a little drawing with “Jaykay” on the caption.

Now that’s just comedy gold.

Immediately the TL: “Is this their shared IG now?? Is this lovestagram??”

And now?

JJks are mad that JK is with Jimin.

PJMs are mad that Jimin is with JK.

Cultists are mad because JK dared to leave his “husband” behind and travel with the “homewrecker” Jimin (contractually 🤓☝️).

Like how dare he eat dinner with his contract husband? How dare he travel across the globe under a fanservice contract and film his boo dancing in a luxury hotel (contractually)?

Cultists: “JK is doing all this with Jimin contractually.”

Me: Sweetie, if this is a fanservice contract I want my money back. WHERE is the hand-holding? WHERE is the kissing? WHERE are the back hugs? WHERE are the late night cuddles? WHERE's the steamy drama? I am not being serviced properly! I want a better deal.

Also, sidenote: why is it always Jungkook’s fault when Tk falls apart in your minds? Not the fantasy relationship falling apart under the weight of reality, no. It’s always: “JK betrayed Taehyung!” Okay sure.

🌟 And finally, to the fandom saints clutching your pearls and whining about sightings being posted ”— First of all: A sighting is not outing. Second: If you think it’s private, then keep your speculation in your drafts. Don’t tweet “Jikook are together 😳” or “Are they filming a GCF?” if you’re gonna turn around and yell at people who are doing exactly what you’re doing—except with honesty and excitement. Because guess what? That’s also engaging with “private” info.

Jikook were seen. In public. And people got excited. That’s it. That’s the post. Stop making everything a moral panic. Stop treating fans like criminals for noticing things. And PLEASE, for the love of sanity, stop saying “don’t share” AFTER you’ve already read, liked, and bookmarked the damn post.

You can’t pretend to be holy after you already ate the forbidden fruit, baby.

You’re not fooling anyone.

Anygays, Jikook are married.

[hahaifolded]

141 x POC!GN Intelligence Operative - Debrief 1 Author's Notes: Does this make sense? I don't know. I'm just started to type and this happened. Warnings: MDNI, Angst

Like usual, the 141 had gotten together for dinner. But tonight was different as tonight you decided to grace them with your presence. 

But instead of sitting in your normal seat with the 141, you were sitting with the new guys. They couldn’t help but stare. Here you are in all your glory but not for them.

“Why are they with them?” asks Ghost as he shoves his fork in his mouth. Gaz and Price shrug as they couldn’t understand why you chose the new guys over them. The three immediately voice their confusion while Soap just remains silence. His silence rang immediate alarms in the other three as John MacTavish is never quiet. 

“Talk,” Price commands. Ghost and Gaz shift their attention to the Scotsman. Johnny drops his fork and begins to talk and talk and talk. He explains to the three what had happened. As he talks, he keeps his gaze on you and Russ. Why couldn’t that be him and you? Heck, at this point, he’ll share you if he has too. 

“And I’ll be honest, I don’t know what Russ did exactly but whatever he did, it got them to eat dinner with him and those fuckers.” And with that, Soap turns back to the three. Ghost and Price just stare at him, lost in thought, while Gaz sits back with his arms crossed. 

“He listened,” Gaz states like it was matter of fact. The three look on confused. With an exasperated breath, Gaz sits straights up and explains it to the three. 

“People like them and I can’t just live. We have to go above and beyond and be perfect just so we can even get an ounce of respect that you guys get. If we don’t, we are immediately labeled as an issue” Johnny tries to interrupt him but Gaz quickly shuts him down. “Look at their resume. Top of their class, scored exceptionally high on all of their exams, trained by Laswell herself for fucks sake and how many offers did they get after the academy?” Kyle takes a pause to look at the three. 

“None,” grunts out Price. 

“And what did it say on their file? What was the supposed reason why so many teams didn’t want them?” continues Kyle. 

Ghost answers him. “Too aggressive. Doesn’t respect authority.” 

“And was that the case?” Kyle stares down at the three. 

Johnny lets out a choked out “no.” From the moment you got here, you were sweet. Any possible acts of defiance were just you doing your job — asking the right questions and making sure your voice was being heard. You were kind to each and every one of them even when they switched up on you. Any recent aggression (if you can even call it that) has been well-deserved as the 141 each began to take the piss out on you. 

“So instead of labeling them as a problem like everyone else, Russ here listened and realized that they’re alone and just needs a team, so,” Kyle turns back to look at you with the new guys, “he gave them one.” Kyle turns back around and returns to his food, picking at it with his fork. 

Soap stares straight at you and realizes his mistake. He labeled you as the bad guy. Fuck. They all did the minute they agreed to put the 141 over you. It wasn’t your fault that they all thought with their dicks. This wasn’t right. You deserved better. 

“So what do we do now?” whines Johnny. He notices the way you laugh with the trio— you used to laugh like that at his jokes. 

“I honestly don’t know,” mumbles out Gaz. The four sit in silence through dinner. 

As Soap finishes his last bite, he catches you and Russ getting up from y’all’s table with Russ actually grabbing your plate for you. Soap felt his eye twitch. As you two walk past the 141, lost in conversation, Johnny speaks up, hoping just a moment of your time. 

He calls out your name. You turn, confused to hear your name. When you made eye contact with Soap, your smile falls. 

“Yes, Sergeant?” you ask. You politely greet the other three. Keegan is right by your side, staring down the 141. 

“Sergeant? Who’s that? It’s your Johnny-boy,” Soap quips.

“Do you need something?” You’re clearly not impressed. 

This isn’t going how Johnny wanted at all. He smacks Price on his back and starts again. “The guys and I have some ice cream bars hidden in Price’s office. Come join us. You know, for team bonding and all that.” 

Johnny sees something flash across your eyes. Was it… joy? However, it disappears as fast as it appeared. 

“I think that’s inappropriate especially since I’m not an official member of the team and I would hate to impose,” you start. You glance at Keegan and shoot him a small smile. “Besides Kea— Sergeant Russ and I are going into town right now for dessert. So maybe another time,” you inform. You begin to turn, leaving the 141 to their ice creams when… 

“Mind a third?” Soap blurts out. You turn around, shock all over your face. You look at him mouth gaping, unsure what to say. Johnny feels his face burn as it’s apparent you do mind a third but don’t know how to say it. Damn him and his big mouth. 

Thankfully Keagan lends a helping hand. “Sorry man. I got shit in the back of my car and only got space for one person. But we’ll bring you something back.” 

And with that Keagan whisks you away from the 141 nor brings the downtrodden Scotsman something back. 

Word Count: 947

More Thoughts - Next Thought

[pazzi5351]

Snowmen and Promposals

Based on This prompt!!

Enjoy 😉

————————————————————————————

The month between their shared practices was over, but nothing between them changed.

Azzi still danced at halftime.

Paige still played like a walking highlight reel whenever Azzi was in the gym.

They still supported each other in every way.

But when prom season rolled around, Azzi started getting nervous.

Paige was starting to be more distant— disappearing when she’d told Azzi she’d wait for her after class, taking unusually long to respond to texts, and dodging every time Azzi asked to hangout.

By lunch, Azzi’s mood was totally down. She plopped down sitting next to Caroline and Ines at their usual table, and was visibly sulking.

“Oh honey, what’s wrong?” Caroline, concerned, asked.

“Seriously Az,” Ines added. “Do I have to beat up the blonde? I will if you tell me to.”

Azzi laughed softly. “Don’t beat her up. I’m just confused by her. I mean we were fine. Great honestly, but then people started talking about prom and she just started being weird. I don’t know, maybe I’m just freaked out because she’s a senior this year.”

Caroline sighed, feeling bad for how her best friend is feeling. “That fucking sucks. I’m sorry Az. I dunno, maybe just try to talk to her. Like catch her off guard and talk to her”

Azzi shrugged. “Yeah, I guess I could try that approach. Thanks Care.”

On the other side of the cafeteria sat Nika, Kk and Ice who were all listening (for the most part) to Paige explaining her elaborate promposal idea.

“Ok first, I obviously have to make a bouquet because ordering one is so lame. Then I have to get her fave sweet treat, which, by the way, is cookie dough ice cream. Then I have to make it Frozen related because that’s her favorite movie. But should I do it at school or at her house? I mean I talked to Mrs. Fudd this morning and she said that I could do it in their backyard if I want but I also want her friends there and I don’t want it to be sus or anything and-“

“Paige. Oh. My. Gosh. You’ve been ranting about this promposal for three days. That’s 72 fucking hours straight. If you want my advice, do it at her house. Text Caroline, Amari, and Ines and tell them to invite themselves over whatever day you decide to do it.” Nika said, cutting off Paige from her yapping.

“Yeah P. You’re totally stressing me out over this crap and I’m a sophomore.” Ice added.

“Oh, my bad y’all. I’m just super excited. And Azzi is perfect and deserves the world and I want to do something perfect for her.”

Kk fake gagged at Paige. “You’re so gross and in love. It’s making me sick.”

Paige elbowed her and laughed. “You’re just jealous I have more rizz than you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was Wednesday, meaning two whole days had passed since Paige and Azzi talked last.

And to say Azzi was stressed was an understatement.

After an unnecessarily long rehearsal, she came home extremely drained. More than ready to take a long shower and go to sleep.

That is until the doorbell rang.

Azzi groaned as she walked over to the door, but was even more confused and kind of annoyed to see Caroline, Amari, and Ines standing there.

She’d thought she made it clear to them after rehearsal that she was gonna go home and crash, so she couldn’t comprehend why they were at her door.

“What are y’all doing here? I’d thought we’d all just want to go home tonight. Y’know. Just relax?” Azzi said, hand still on the door like she may close it at any moment.

“Yeah well, we’re here now so!” Caroline responded as she pushed past Azzi into the house.

The other girls followed and they all sat on the couch silently.

“Mari, I’m kinda warm. Is it warm in here to you?” Ines asked.

Amari nodded. “Yeah I am pretty warm. Azzi let’s all go out back! Get some fresh air!”

“What the hell are you guys talking about? It’s not warm in here. No, I'm not going outside. But if you guys go out, please feel free to go to the car and go home.” Azzi responded. She knew she was being mean to her friends but she didn’t care. She was upset about rehearsal but more so upset about Paige.

Caroline stood up, pulling Azzi off the couch. “No. We’re going outside whether you want to or not.”

Azzi mumbled something about everyone just being so annoying recently until she got outside.

Her backyard was lit up with fairy lights and strung on snowflakes, the ground was filled with white rose petals, “Do you wanna build a snowman” was softly playing, and in the middle of it all, was Paige, in a too big Olaf onesie, a huge bouquet of flowers, and a big nervous grin on her face.

Azzi walked down the flower path to where Paige stood, forgetting her friends where standing there and barely acknowledging her parents presence.

“What the hell Paige.” Azzi said, looking at everything around her. Taking everything in.

“I know you think I’ve been ignoring you all week, but I swear this was my reason. I wanted to ask you to prom and I wanted it to be perfect because you’re perfect.” Paige explained as she handed Azzi her flowers. “You’re my person Az, and I’d never want you to feel any different.”

Azzi gasped with tears brimming her eyes. “Paige, seriously.”

Paige laughed softly. “Seriously, which is why,” Paige turned around now holding a decked out sign that read, “It doesn’t have to be a snowman… but I’d never ‘Let it Go’ if you went to prom with me!”

Azzi shook her head in disbelief, but her smile was wide, stunned, and the kind of soft Paige wanted to bottle

“You’re so annoying. You had me so worried I did something stupid.”

Paige grabbed the side of her face gently. “You could never be stupid. I mean unless you say no right now. That’d be stupid.”

“You’re so dumb.” Azzi said through a laugh, stepping forward.

“So, is that a yes?” Paige asked, slightly breathless.

Azzi reached for the front of the onesie, fisted it in her hands, and pulled her into a kiss.

Caroline erupted into a silent scream, Amari gasped and covered her mouth, and Ines captured the full promposal on video.

Katie clapped once, grinning. “Promposal of the year. Sorry, everyone else.”

Tim nodded. “And the commitment to Olaf. That’s love.”

Azzi pulled back just slightly, forehead against Paige’s, grinning so wide it hurt. Her voice was soft and a little breathless.

“I can’t believe you wore an Olaf onesie for me.”

Paige smirked. “I’d wear a whole castle for you.”

“You’re such a dork.”

“But I’m your dork now, right?”

Azzi kissed her again. “Obviously.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The night of prom arrived in the blink of an eye. The sun was just starting to dip, casting that warm glow through Azzi’s bedroom window. She stood in front of her full-length mirror in a navy blue satin dress that hugged her curves in all the right ways, neckline delicate, back open, her hair curled just enough to look like she hadn’t tried too hard—even though Caroline and Amari had absolutely spent forty minutes on it.

Caroline stood behind her, applying highlighter to Azzi’s cheekbones with surgical precision. “You’re giving hot siren prom queen. Kind of like if Bonnie from the Vampire Diaries was a dance team siren mermaid and she went to prom.”

Azzi laughed then smirked at their reflection. “Good. She won’t survive it.”

Down the hall, Paige was finishing getting ready in the guest bathroom—Azzi’s parents had insisted she get dressed at their house so they could all leave together. Paige adjusted the collar of her crisp black suit, a navy blue pocket square, the same color as Azzi’s dress tucked into her pocket. Her sneakers were spotless, and the silver chain she always wore glinted beneath the open collar of her white shirt.

Katie knocked once, peeked in, then placed a soft hand to her heart. “You clean up nice, Olaf.”

Paige laughed, cheeks tinged pink. “Think she’ll like it?”

“She’s going to melt.”

In the backyard, the girls posed under strings of fairy lights and flower petals that were still scattered on the grass. Paige couldn’t take her eyes off Azzi. She literally forgot how to stand in one picture because Azzi turned and smiled at her.

Ines snapped it anyway. “It’s giving hopelessly in love,” she whispered behind her phone. “They’re so gross.”

They took goofy shots with their friend group—piggyback rides, dramatic Titanic poses, group hugs—but the solo pictures were where the magic happened. Paige gently rested her hand on Azzi’s waist, and Azzi looked up at her like no one else existed. At one point, Paige dipped her just to make her laugh, and Caroline screamed, “WE GET IT. YOU’RE IN LOVE.”

At prom, the vibes between the two were the same. Azzi had already gotten Paige to try three new dance moves, half of which were just ways to get her closer. Paige was doing her best—some moves were smoother than others—but she was grinning the whole time, clutching Azzi’s hand whenever the beat shifted.

During a brief break in the music, Paige leaned close. “You know you’re just doing this to see me embarrass myself, right?”

Azzi twirled a loose curl around her finger. “No, I’m doing this to make you fall even harder.”

“Unfair,” Paige murmured, eyes locked on hers. “I was already done for the second you wore that dress.”

The lights dimmed just a little more. The DJ’s voice faded into the opening notes of a slow, swaying love song. Something timeless, floaty.

Without a word, Azzi reached for Paige’s hand and guided it to her waist.

They started to sway.

Paige’s hand tightened ever so slightly, her other hand slipping into Azzi’s. They were chest to chest now, foreheads nearly touching, music pulsing gently around them. The world blurred into gold and navy and the soft murmur of a hundred other conversations—but none of it touched them.

“You nervous?” Azzi asked softly.

Paige swallowed. “Terrified.”

Azzi smiled, slow and sure. “Me too.”

They stood like that for another second, soaking in the tension, the heat, the thrum between them. Then Paige dipped her head just enough—

And kissed her.

It wasn’t loud or flashy. Just deep. Intentional. A pause in the universe. A quiet spark that lingered long after the song faded.

Azzi exhaled against her lips.

“I should’ve said yes to prom like… five Olaf onesies ago.”

Paige grinned. “I’ve got more where that came from.”

————————————————————————————

AN: did I just single-handedly make my expectations for my promposal 1000 times higher? Yes, yes I did. Hope I make the anon who requested happy!!!

[midnightjewel]

Glasses Are Hot, Babe

Did you really think he wouldn’t notice you squinting..?

A/N: As a glasses girlie who is deemed legally blind who refused to wear her glasses for a long time because I thought I looked ugly and gave myself astigmatism, this will provide comfort to me and those who are in the same boat

Characters Included: Denki, Shinsou, and Bakugo

****Suggestive themes (18+ only please!!) DNI with this fic if you’re a minor, I have plenty of sfw stories on my blog****

Denki

It was a casual Friday night in the dorms. The stress of the week was nowhere to be found in the chill environment of the common room that night.

You and your friends, the Bakusquad, as you liked to call yourselves, were unwinding from the hectic week as hero students.

It was a bit of a ways into y’all’s first year as hero course students but you and Denki had only recently come clean about the feelings you were harboring for each other a few weeks ago, meaning that you two were still in that awkward phase of your relationship.

Of course, you two were good friends before dating, it was just gonna take some getting used to. Holding hands, kissing, and what not. You weren’t complaining though. You bagged the hottest boy you’d ever laid eyes on and he was absolutely smitten for you which only made things ten times better.

You and the squad (minus Bakugo who had turned in hours ago) were watching vine and fail compilations in the common room. You and Denki were sharing his large Pikachu blanket, snuggled up together. It was just the squad in the living room, minus the few late night stragglers who were in the kitchen getting snacks every so often.

While the squad was having the time of their lives laughing up storms, you were developing quite the headache. Why? Because you’d been squinting and straining your eyes for the last hour and a half! Normally you had fancy blue light glasses to help with screens.

You sharply inhaled as the squad erupted into laughter at what was apparently some idiot had fallen off some children’s playground equipment. The loud environment only adding fuel to the fire of your headache.

Your inhale didn’t go unnoticed by your electric boyfriend. “You okay? Are you tired?” He questioned and you shook your head to say no.

“Just a headache from the tv” you casually say hoping he’d just drop it. Truth is, you’ve always been embarrassed to wear your glasses around others. You absolutely despised the way you looked and overall just thought you looked better without them.

“Yeah, you’ve been squinting” he hummed as you looked up at him from your spot on his shoulder “Can you see?” He inquired, you sat up and avoided eye contact

“No” you hang your head in shame “I can’t”

“You should think about getting glasses then” he laughs and you just glance at him. “I have glasses” you state and his eyes widen in response to what you said

“So why aren’t you wearing them? I’ve never seen you with glasses” he looked at you curiously “I don’t know” you shrug and look away from him “I think they’re ugly” you state and he looks at you with wide eyes, mouth agape.

“Show me”

And that’s how you ended up in your room, shirts off and you on top of your boyfriend in a heated makeout session “mph- wait Denki” you sit up and climb off of him

“Let’s not go to far” you giggle and he nods in agreement “Sorry babe, it’s just…” he sighs “Those glasses are hot, babe”

Shinsou

You’d never been one to wear your glasses, rather suffering in silence. You absolutely hated the way you looked with your glasses, or any glasses for that matter. No matter which ones you tried on at your eye doctor, you just felt ugly.

During the summer, transitioning from your first to second year at UA high school, you had gotten word that Hitoshi Shinsou was going to be joining class 1-A.

You were ecstatic, your stomach had butterflies every time you thought of you and him being in the same class. Oh god, he was so cute.

By luck, you ended up sitting right next to him in class. Long story short over the course of the first few weeks you two had grown incredibly close and your closeness had developed into a relationship that was going two months strong at this point in time.

And that brings us to today, in President Mic’s English lesson. Usually you were unable to even see the words on the pages in front of you, just following along with the reading of your teacher or classmates.

You’d shockingly never been volunteered to read aloud and you would absolutely never voluntarily read. However, much to your dismay, it wasn’t on a volunteer basis today. It was whoever was called on and your heart was practically beating out of your chest, waiting for the class to be over so that hopefully you could slip past this situation.

You glanced to the clock, only ten minutes left in class. You just might be able to get by without having to humiliate yourself.

“(Name), please read the next passage for us” President Mic spoke and you froze on the spot. You hesitantly looked down at the page in front of you. It was nearly impossible to make out what was on the page. All of the words fused together in your blurred vision.

“Uhm” you looked panicked as you tried to squint to make out any of the words on the page. This didn’t go unnoticed by your boyfriend who sat beside you.

The silence in the room was so loud and ringing in your ears as you were internally panicking. You were snapped out of your racing mind by a voice, a gruff one. It came from a few seats in front of you.

“Idiot, can you not read or something..?!”

It was Bakugo. It caused some stifled giggles around the room. You felt your body tense up in complete embarrassment as tears formed in your waterline. Hitoshi was furious!

“Hey, leave her alone!” the lavender haired boy spoke from beside you in the same melancholy tone that he always spoke with, but you could sense a hint of anger laced in there. He didn’t dare to make the situation more embarrassing for you by telling the blonde off in the way he truthfully wanted to

Thankfully the bell rang, saving you from the deafening awkward silence of the room. As the students pack up to go to lunch you slowly close your book and take your time putting it in your bag.

As most of the students had cleared out your teacher spoke up “(Name), can I speak with you when everyone leaves?” He inquired and you just nod in response

You stand up as you and Hitoshi were the only ones left in the room. “I’ll wait outside the door” he glances at you and you respond with a simple hum as you approached your teachers desk

“Are you okay? I apologize for Bakugo’s comment. I’ll have Aizawa speak to him” He states with genuine concern for your well-being. It was just the type of caring person he was.

“Yeah I’m fine” you shrug your shoulders not caring about eye contact, it’s not like you could completely see anyways. “Sorry I just got nervous” you make up an excuse

“I won’t ask you to read if you don’t want to anymore okay?” He says as if making a silent agreement between the two of you

“Mhm” you nod

“Alright, well I shouldn’t keep you for long. Your knight in shining armor is waiting for you” he winks causing you to smile “go enjoy your lunch and have a good day”

“Thanks, you too” you smile and walk out of the classroom to see your taller boyfriend waiting for you. He’s quick to embrace you, your face stuffed in his chest as you sniffled with tears filling your eyes once more.

“It’s okay pretty girl” he rubs your back as you quietly sob from the embarrassment you’d endured just a few moments ago

“I just…. I couldn’t see the words” you wipe your tears from your cheeks, looking up at his expression of confusion. “I can’t read without my glasses” you further explain causing some reassurance but still a genuine amount of confusion from your boyfriend. He had never seen you wear glasses before. In fact, he didn’t even know you needed glasses!

“Well why don’t you wear them, doll?” He furrows his eyebrows as you two intertwine hands and walk towards the cafeteria

“Because they look ugly on me” you shamefully admit and he just couldn’t believe what he was hearing. How could something make you, of all people ugly?! There was nothing in the world that could dull your beauty in his eyes.

“I want to see these glasses later” he squeezed your hand three times to which you responded with four squeezes silently saying “I love you too”

“Wow” his eyes widened “just… wow” he smiles at your embarrassed expression

“They’re horrible” you shake your head as you look in the mirror that sat on your vanity.

“No, they’re gorgeous” he reassures, causing the apples of your cheeks to burn from his complements.

Bakugo

3 years ago you were given the dreaded news that you’d need glasses in order to see properly. In all honesty, you hadn’t noticed before that your vision wasn’t normal. You had just assumed that everyone saw the world slightly burry. From the moment you tried them on you knew that they just didn’t work for you. You absolutely hated yourself in glasses.

Now at age 15 and in your first year at UA high school in the prestigious hero course your vision had only gotten worse throughout the years of refusing to wear the glasses you were given.

You knew from the first day of school that it was important to get a seat in the front for notes. But unfortunately the only available front row seat on your first day was right next to the resident hot head, Katsuki Bakugo. Who you had to admit was pretty cute….

After just a few months of getting to know him (against his will) you two had grown closer. You just refused to stop talking to him. And while he found it annoying at first, he just eventually accepted the fact that you weren’t going to shut up and he absolutely refused to give up his seat.

Today was a dreaded note taking day. You truthfully hated Thursday’s. The day right before Friday and note taking day for class 1-A.

“Just copy these and be quiet” Aizawa said as he put the many bullet points and paragraphs up on the projector so that the class could copy them. “Iida, turn the lights off and keep them in order” he groggily spoke as he zipped his infamous yellow sleeping bag and laid down behind his desk.

You proceeded reach into your bag and pulled out your (f/c) notebook along with a pencil. Looking up to the board was almost predictable at this point, you knew you would never be able to make out what was written.

As the lights were shut off, you can admit that it was only slightly better. But alas, you still couldn’t make out what the hell was even being discussed in these notes.

After squinting and struggling for what seemed like forever (3 minutes) your neighbor noticed and scoffed amongst the quiet chatter that was littered throughout the classroom.

“Are you going to write something or just squint like a dumbass?” He glanced at you. “I wasn’t squinting” your cheeks heat up at the sight of him. “Sure you weren’t” he grumbled and returned back to his own notes.

After struggling to pin point what was written, you just decided to start writing what you thought was the notes. It sounded like nonsense when you read it in your mind but you were too embarrassed to ask Bakugo for help, wondering if he would become suspicious and accuse you of needing glasses.

The thought of him seeing you in what you thought was the worst thing ever made a pang of embarrassment shoot through your chest. You exhaled at the thought of him calling you names.

Four eyes..

Fucking nerd..

You wouldn’t be able to handle your crush saying those things about you. It would definitely bruise your ego terribly.

For the next 30 minutes you wrote what you assumed was on the board from what you could attempt to see. Luckily you had finished just seconds before the bell rang, signaling that the day was over and you all could head back to your dorms.

As you went to close your notebook, Bakugo walked over to your desk, glancing down at your notes. “Unbelievable” he slightly laughed and walked away while shaking his head

“What’s his problem?” You say to Mina as she witnessed that whole thing. “I’ll never know” she shook her head, picking her bag up and waiting for you to do the same before walking out with you.

Once you two made your way to your shared dorm room floor you parted ways for a bit like you always did. You both used this time to relax and get caught up on homework before meeting back up in either one of your rooms to talk and catch up on gossip.

As you changed out of your school uniform and put on some comfortable clothes, you took your necessary supplies for homework out of your bag and put it on your desk.

Before you sat down in your rolling chair there was a slightly aggressive knock on your door. You deeply sigh and walk to open your door.

“What’s u-“ before you could finish the phrase a black spiral notebook was shoved at you and Bakugo practically let himself into your room.

“Sure come right in” you roll your eyes and laugh which caused him to scoff at the sight of your notebook on your desk

“We’re you seriously about to study with those dumb fucking notes?!” He glares at you and you simply don’t know how to answer that. “Uhm yes?” Was all you could manage to say

“I know they’re in here somewhere” he crosses his arms over his chest and frowns at you “What are you talking about?” You mimics his actions by crossing your arms over your chest

“I know you need glasses” he states and your eyes widen slightly “You fucking idiot!” He snaps “Straining your eyes like that it only gonna make it worse” he spots the glasses on your dresser and grabs them, proceeding to practically shove them on your face

“Katsuki stop, they’re hideous on me” you avoid eye contact and take them off your face “They’re hot” he looks at you with a no nonsense expression making you almost die on the spot

“What?” You whisper in disbelief

“You heard me” he gruffly states “Now put them back on and I’ll show you how sexy they are” he says moving closer to you

“That is…” he pauses “If you want to or whatever” he speaks his need for consent before continuing

“Yes! I want to!” You speak very eagerly causing him to laugh and lock your door

[selfishdoll]

❛ ..SO, SO MUCH.❜

I need you bad I can't take this pain | Boy I'm 'bout to go insane ⁺ 𓂋 𓈒 ♡ NEED U BAD.

ཐིཋྀ ⊹ 𓈒 SUMMARY.

you thought you were fine breaking up with your highschool sweetheart & avoiding him for a year. when, in actuality, you were not.

ཐིཋྀ ⊹ 𓈒 CONTENT WARNING.

angst (tiny amount), jaded reader (at first) exes to lovers, y’all were highschool sweethearts fr, tattoo artist! choso & college student reader (both 21+), “i missed you” type sex, choso being a sweetheart & very understanding, reconciling, multiple orgasms, oral sex (fem receiving ofc he’s a munch), soft dom choso, pet names & praise, excuse the amount of plot i got carried away, etc.

ཐིཋྀ ⊹ 𓈒 NOTE.

jasmine sullivan & yoci carrying most of my plot ideas. this took way too long omg. also, excuse any typos or grammar mistakes as this wasn’t proofread. also this is 4k+ words so yeah.

How did relationships work? How did love work? Relinquishing a part of yourself to someone, expecting them to cherish and take care of it; doing the same for them. It was something you found silly, maybe even a little arrogant. You’ve seen too many woman in your life give a part— even their entire selves to their partners, only for the relationship to fall apart. Cheating, lies, simply drifting away from one another; so many excuses, so many reasons on why you avoided relationships like the plague.

Until you met him, Kamo Choso.

You remember clearly as if it was yesterday. Freshman year, he was seated in the back of your shared English class. Boredly looking ahead as if he didn’t want to be there. He looked rugged, maybe even a little depressed; overall, you didn’t see yourself becoming friends.. let alone lovers.

Oh, how wrong you were.

Choso had somehow slipped into your life through your beloved shared friend Yuki Tsukumo. From then on things fell into place. You don’t know when or why you started falling for him.

Was it because he was so caring to his younger brother Yuji? Or maybe how sweet he was to you? Always asking if you were okay, always by your side when things got tough, always encouraging you..

You fell, and you fell hard. But Choso fell much harder.

To him, you were perfection. Carefully crafted with zero flaws. He wanted to get on his knees and thank your mother personally for creating you. That’s how much you meant to him.

The moment these thoughts entered his mind he acted fast, declaring his feelings for you sophomore year of highschool. Not even letting himself linger for a month. He wanted, no, needed you as his. And to his happiness, you returned the feelings. From that day, highschool was nothing more then a bliss-filled blur.

You two became known for your loving relationship, many believing you two would marry after highschool. It was silly, you two were teenagers— yet the thought did make you smile. Everything was just.. perfect. There was nothing more you could ask for.

Until, talk of the future entered the bond you two had.

You wanted to become a nurse, planning to attend a college that had an excellent reputation for its program. While Choso wished to become a tattoo artist in your city. One wanted to stay, and one wanted to go. Choso declared he could handle a long-distance relationship, but you couldn’t. As selfish as it was, you simply couldn’t bare the thought of being away from him for so long. What if he strayed? What if you did? You couldn’t bare it at all— something you tearfully confessed to him the week before you moved onto campus.

You vividly remember the scene, it burned into your mind with no chance of escaping. How Choso stood silently, patiently; listening to your concerns and worries— expressionless when you apologized and ended the relationship. And what did he do? He approached you, carefully wiping away your tears as he’s done for you before.

“Take care of yourself.. okay?” He spoke, taking your cheek in a gentle grasp and leaning down; kissing your forehead— sealing the deal.

That chapter in your life was over. You weren’t with Choso anymore, mind focused on your studies and nothing more. A relationship would drag you down anyway.. you didn’t need him.. you didn’t miss him.

“Shit..” You hissed softly, quickly pulling the wand away from your eye, blinking rapidly. It was your own fault; rushing to put mascara on. You should have better time management skills given you were in college and all— but no. Here you were, fighting against time while attempting to finish getting yourself ready for a block party. You hadn’t a clue who was throwing it, only told — or more like forced — to attend by Yuki.

You jolted in your seat when a loud honk come from outside your house, moving around your vanity to peer outside; spotting Yuki’s familiar car. You breathed softly, standing from your chair and fixing your attire. You wore a cute white ring halter top, along with blue jean shorts and black wedge sandals. Gathering your phone, keys, and purse; the gold chain around your ankle jingled as you exited your bedroom and soon house, locking the door behind you.

Yuki rolled down her window, grinning at you as you walked down your driveway. “Uber for (Y/N)?”

You playfully rolled your eyes at her shenanigans, opening the passenger side door and entering, shutting it behind you. You buckled up after placing your things down, sinking into the chair. “Thanks for picking me up.”

“No problem, I just wanted to see your face firsthand when I tell you Choso would be there.” The words came out of her so nonchalantly, messing with her radio for a moment all while you stared at her blankly.

You reached for your door, but the woman was much faster; locking and starting up the car. You whipped around to glare at her, “Tsukumo! You told me he would be working.”

“Guess the client cancelled..” She mused, taking the car out of park and beginning to drive away from your house. Yuki side glanced, catching your annoyed expression which caused her to sigh, rolling her eyes. “Look, there’s gonna be quite a few people there— maybe you two won’t speak.” She shrugged, raising her eyebrows in hopes you would relax. You only sucked your teeth, leaning into the car door.

An entire year, you’ve two been away from each other. Contact dwindling into nothing after the second month of college. You two were simply busy leading different lives, you told yourself.

But again, it didn’t matter it’s not like you, missed him anyways.

The rest of the car ride was filled with random radio music and brief chatter, Yuki catching you up on things. You had avoided coming back for any holidays, knowing it would be too much for you. Luckily, she was more than happy to tell you about all the dirt she had on your shared friends.

She soon slowed infront of an unfamiliar house, putting the car into park and soon shutting it off. You glanced around, feeling your anxiety lift when you realized you didn’t see Choso’s car. Good, you could somehow melt into the crowd without him noticing you.

Silently you grabbed your phone deciding to leave your purse and charger in the glove compartment, you exited the car and shut the door behind you. Following Yuki up the driveway, porch, and into the house; music quickly overtook you, with the sweet smell of the grill and alcohol. Some people were resting in the living room or crowding the dining room table, but most were in the backyard playing football, or simply shooting the shit.

You glanced around, eyes twinkling at the familiar faces and waltzing up to them. Laughter and hugs ensued, catching up on things given you haven’t seen each other in about a year.

Your arm was locked around Shoko’s waist, talking about nonsense whilst watching Gojo and Geto play beer pong. Or more like Gojo mocking his best friend for missing such an easy shot.

It was nice seeing everyone like this, the stress of seeing your highschool sweetheart leaving rather quickly. For now you were swept away in nostalgia, enjoying being around the people you cared for.

A cup in hand, you recalled the time you walked in on your dorm mate having sex, cheeks burning from the permanent smile etched onto your features. One that faltered the moment excited voices called out to the pink-haired male entering the backyard.

“You’re finally here, Yuji!” Nobara grinned at her close friend, walking over to him; Megumi close behind. The young man apologized, talking about traffic or what not. You weren’t too concerned about that, given your eyes settled on the person walking in behind him.

Anxiety spilled into you, heart thumping against your chest as you took him in, your ex— Kamo Choso. Nothing much had changed about him, still as rugged and handsome as ever; dressed in a simple black compression shirt and baggy pants. It seemed he decided to forgo his usual hairstyle, the black tresses resting on his shoulders in a messy fashion. One that suited him perfectly.

Your breath hitched, watching his eyes zone in on your instantly. You didn’t wait for a reaction, quickly turning away and busying yourself with your phone. Your eyes did lift a little however when the man passed you, the familiar cologne burning your nostrils and causing your stomach to stir. Before you could even think you were lifting yourself from the chair and waltzing back into the house.

Luckily no one noticed or either failed to comment on your disappearance.

You found yourself heading over to the kitchen, grasping ahold of the silver fridge door and opening it; eyes scanning for some water. You murmured to yourself while continuing to look, attempting to ignore the harsh beating of your heart. You sighed the moment you finally found one, grasping it from its place on the shelf and standing up, closing the door.

Taking the cap off you lifted the bottle to your lipgloss stained lips, taking a few sips whilst leaning against the counter— relishing in the cold beverage. Your eyes closed in thought, attempting to map out a perfect plan on how to avoid Choso.

The backyard was a medium size, yet he was bound to be around Yuji. So, as long as you avoided him, Nobara, and Megumi— you could avoid Choso too! It was foolproof and perfect, nearly bringing a smile to your face.

Leaning up you pulled the bottle from your lips, twisting the cap back on and lifting yourself from the counter, turning and freezing. Breaching the threshold of the kitchen was Choso in all his glory, face turning from talking to someone to stare in front of him, eyes landing on you.

A brief silence entered the kitchen, simply taking the other in. Finally, Choso was the first to speak; “Hey, (Y/N).”

“Hey..” You spoke, annoyed by how small you sounded. You watched as he opened the fridge, grabbing a water bottle and shutting it closed. The man leaned against the wall beside the kitchen’s opening, opening the bottle.

You glanced around, noticing there were no many exits. You were trapped.

“How’s college?”

“Huh—“ Your head snapped back to the man, spotting his raised eyebrows, awaiting your answer. You nervously licked your lips, leaning back against the counter. “It’s uh.. been good. Classes are a little hard but, ya know.” You shrugged, feeling a heat crawl from your cheeks to the back of your ears. You dragged your gaze from the ground to him, “How’s tattooing? I heard you got your own booth, congrats.”

Choso nodded slowly, a lazy smile pulling his lips. “Yeah, thanks.” He mused softly, placing the cap back onto his water bottle. “Clientele has been good. Been going to tattoo parties and special events.. and things.”

“That’s good.” You forced a little smile, gaze faltering the moment his eyes landed on you. You felt the way they carried down your form, a familar gaze, one that always made you feel far too warm.

Another silence entered the room, both of you refusing to speak.. or leave. You told yourself time and time again you hadn’t missed Choso, that you were done; stuck on the path you’ve chosen. Yet here you were, anxiously waiting for something, anything to happen. You just.. couldn’t let go.

You gripped the bottle you held, eyes drifting back to him, zoning in on the bracelet he wore. It had red and black beads, ones all to familar to you. Starboy, was the words etched onto seven of them. You knew this, given you had your own pink and white charm bracelet labeled Stargirl.

“You still wear that?” The words left you before you could think, Choso blinking from his thoughts and glancing at his wrist. The man breathed softly, nodding soon after. “Yeah. I do.”

“Why?”

Choso went silent, leaning his head back against the wall as his eyes turned up to the ceiling. Finally he shrugged, “I don’t know.” He spoke lowly, causing you to bite your lip. Feelings you had pushed to the back of your mind began to flood within you, flashes of memories you had kept locked away following after.

You turned, rapidly blinking to eliminate the tears threatening to tread down your face. You were kidding yourself for months, thinking you hadn’t missed him. Thinking you were better then the woman in your life, able to cut a man off without a second thought. Yet your heart betrayed you in the most painful way, wanting nothing more to leap into his arms and cry.

His cologne became stronger, a gentle, familiar hand hesitantly being placed onto the one that held your bottle. Your eyes drifted to his face, spotting the concerned look he wore. That was enough for you, tears spilling and traveling down your dark brown cheeks, mouth opening but unable to speak.

But Choso knew what you wanted to say, knew how you felt. The man gently grabbed the bottle from your hand, placing it off to the side whilst his arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you into his chest. He ignored the wet feeling that tainted his shirt, resting his chin onto your head all while continuing to hold you. Choso breathed as your shaky hands reached around, grasping his shirt as your buried your face deeper into his chest.

“I’m so sorry Choso..” You managed to whimper out, sniffling shortly after. The words escaped you again, delving into a soft mantra that caused the man to pull you even closer, softly shushing and soothing you. You stood there in his arms, feeling every bit of resolve melt away.

You missed Choso so much, it hurt. The pain rendering your whole body limp, using him for stability.

It took a moment to calm yourself down, soon pulling away, warming as the man reached over to wipe your tears. Just like he did a year ago and so many years prior.

“Why are you apologizing?.. You don’t have to—“

“I didn’t compromise. I was so stuck on myself, running at the first sign of conflict.” You spoke softly, leaning into his palm the moment held your cheek. “I want to try again.. I want to be with you again, Choso. You don’t know how much I missed you.”

The words had barely left you before his lips were covering your own, taking your breath away easily. The familiar, wonderful feeling took over your mind, hands sliding up to wrap around his neck; fingers curling into his messy hair. The moment his tongue swiped across your bottom lip you were parting them, pressing your body into him as a needy sigh escaped you. His hands traveled to the underside of your thighs, lifting you up and placing you on the counter— all while continuing the kiss.

Your legs opened wide, locking around him the moment he stepped between them. The kiss deepened, his hands resting on your ass as soft moans and hisses entering the atmosphere. Sooner then you hoped the kiss ended, pulling away as soft pants fanned on each other’s skin.

“I missed you too.. so, so much.” Choso murmured softly, gripping your plush form as if you would disappear in thin air. No other words followed, the man capturing your lips with such intensity you were tugging at his tresses. Languidly moving his lips, leaving you breathless, threatening to devour you. Your legs tightened around his form, feeling hot beneath your clothes.

His name fell from your lips in a soft whimper, pulling back and resting your head against the cabinet— gasping the moment his lips attached to your neck. Your eyebrows knitted close together, biting your lip as his teeth gently grazed your skin. “Choso, Choso.. not here— we can’t..”

While his lips didn’t stop he listened to your warning, sliding his hands underneath you and lifting you off the counter. You tightened your arms around his neck, face hot with embarrassment as he walked you from the kitchen and towards the back of the house— everyone luckily none the wiser given they were all in the backyard now.

Moving towards a random bedroom he opened the door, shutting and locking it behind him. Waltzing over to the bed he sat down, placing in you in his lap all while his lips continued to press gentle kisses against your neck, collarbone, and throat. Your hands traveled, finding the edge of his shirt and tugging on it, feeling his hands fall from your body to his shirt— peeling it off for you. Tracing his skin, feeling his sculpted sink in the moment your feathery touches reached low— gasped as Choso gently bit your neck, pushing to lay you down on the soft blankets.

“Missed this.. missed your touch, smell, how you taste..” His words drifted, catching onto the the edge of your shirt and slowly pulling off your body. Choso breathed, taking in your naked chest, leaning down. The cool, silver chain he wore tickled your skin as his lips ghosted your chest, a warm hand grabbing your breast to gently squeeze.

You gasped as his tongue glided across your areola and slowly hardening nipple, feeling his free hand flicking the button on your shorts, entering them shortly after. Choso began to suck on your hardened bud, all while his fingers breached your panties, two fingers slowly circling your clit. Your legs rose, hips rising into his touch as your head leaned back against the mattress. Soft breaths of pleasure escaped you, gripping his hair as your eyes were pinched closed.

“You missed this, pretty girl? Missed how easily I could drive you crazy from just my fingers?..” He questioned softly, fingers lowering to push into you, hissing at the way your walls clung to his digits all while his thumb busied itself, rubbing tight circles onto your hard button.

You nodded, clinging onto him as his fingers thrusted and scissored inside of you. “Yes.. fuck— yes.. Missed this so much, Choso.” You gasped, whimpers escaping you as another finger came to stretch you. Wet muffled squelches carried with each thrust and curl into your pussy, bruised lips parted as melodic moans escaped you.

The man hummed softly in enjoyment, leaning down to capture your lips in a sweet kiss. Sweeter, softer then the way he was ruining you with his fingers, pushing against your gummy walls affectively leading you closer and closer to your orgasm. You whimpered in his mouth, nails dragging from his hair to his arm, feeling the muscles tense with each movement of his hand.

You legs tightened around him, pulling back to gasp, throwing a hand over your mouth the moment you came— muffling the moan that escaped you. Your mess soiled his fingers and your panties, legs shaking as you felt him slowly withdraw his fingers. You breathed into your palm, barely registering his hands latching onto your shorts and peeling them off your body, panties following.

There, his hands slid to the inside of your thighs, pushing them open to reveal the price between them. Choso moaned softly from the sight, hands rising to place his thumbs onto your soaked folds, spreading them. “So messy, princess.” The man teased softly, reaching to press his thumb against your sensitive clit, grinning at the way you whined.

“Choso, please..” You breathed, watching as his body lowered, breath hitching the moment his cool breath fanned across your wet cunt. You whimpered as his thick tongue dragged a stripe up to your clit, the tip circling the button. Your legs threatened to close, causing the man to pull you closer, legs stretched out and resting on his shoulders. Your fingers curled into his hair, crying out the moment his lips wrapped around your clit, sucking and running the flat of his tongue against it.

The man pulled back for a moment, hands sliding under your ass and gripping the warm globes, lifting you a little just to smother himself in your pussy. His tongue moved wickedly, gliding up and down your slit before dipping into your warm entrance, thrusting and curling against your walls.

Your fingers clung to his hair, free hand placed against your mouth as you bit your palm, covering the desperate moans that escaped you. Your hips moved, grinding into his face as little tears built within your eyes. Slurping and lapping, enjoying every single drop that dripped from your pussy, moans escaping him. His hips ground into the blankets, chasing your orgasm with such intensity.

Your stomach clenched, arching up off the bed as a muffled swear escaped you, creaming all over his face, feeling his hands tightened as he licked you clean. Your limp body fell back against the blankets, breathing heavily as your legs shook. Soon enough he released you, rising from his spot between your legs and dragging his hands from your ass to your thighs, soothing the warm flesh.

Pushing forward he leaned over your body, hand carrying to your throat and gently grabbing it, pressing his wet lips against your own; you softly moaning at your taste. Slowly, the two of you continued to kiss, his other hand drifting to his sweats to push down his body, boxers following.

Choso pulled away, placing his forehead against your own, sliding his cock between your slit— rubbing against you slowly. Your fingers locked around his wrist, desperate pleas escaping you as your hips rose, searching for more. The man gave a breathy chuckle, smoothing his thumb against your throat. “Needy aren’t we?” The man mused, leaning to kiss between your eyes, hearing you whine.

“Need you, Choso..”

“You need me so bad, put it in yourself.” The man spoke, watching you bashfully blink at him, grinning as you attempted to shy away from his gaze. His hand rose, grabbing your wrist and carrying it between the two of you. Your much smaller hand wrapped around his cock, a hiss escaping his lips from the touch. “Go on, princess..” Choso breathed, gripping the sheets beside him as your hips rose, adjusting to line him up with your entrance before slowly sinking inside.

You never got accustomed to how Choso stretched you— not the first time and definitely not now. Your lips parted, soft moans escaping you as your hips continued to slowly rise. A choked cry escaped you however the moment he flicked his hips forward, burying himself deep inside. “Ch—choso! You..” You whimpered, walls pulsing around his heavy length, feeling him kiss your cheeks.

“Guess I’m just as needy as you baby.” Choso spoke, lip twitching into a subtle smirk. He rose, releasing your throat and resting on his hutches. Hands found the back of your knees, a steady grip as he slowly pushed them down to your chest, watching you breath sharply. Pulling his hips back until the tip was inside, Choso thrusted forward, taking in the way your body jumped and the prettiest moan escaped you.

His rhythm stared quickly, hips snapping back and forth, reaching deep inside; pushing against a spot that caused you to see stars. Your fingers balled up the sheets underneath you, moans escaping you. You had long forgotten the party going on outside, long forgotten the fact you two were separated for an entire year— your mind only focused on how his cock so easily ruined you, toes curling and anklet jingling with each thrust.

The man leaned down, folding you even more as he pressed a hand against the bed, the other curling in your hair, lifting you into a messy kiss. Tongues curling, teeth bumping into each other, eating up the other’s moans as pleasure consumed you. His chain tickled your heated skin, dragging across each time he rutted into you.

“Fuck..” Choso gasped, pulling back to breath, hand moving to gently grabbing your cheeks. “Keep your eyes right here, princess.. that’s it.. look so pretty like this.” He spoke, feeling you clench with each praise that left his mouth.

You felt so damn good, hugging him close; sucking him in each time he pulled back. Your arousal dripped down his length, a sticky ring forming at the base of his cock. Just when your hand rose to cover your mouth again, Choso was snatching your wrist, pressing it against the bed.

“No, no— waited far too fucking long to have you covering your mouth.” He hissed harshly, intertwining your fingers as he buried himself deeper, hitting your cervix.

The pain was quickly washed away with pleasure, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you came around his cock— a high pitched cry escaping your throat. Tears trickled down your cheeks, other hand falling to his waist to push, and whine; the overstimulation becoming too much.

All for Choso to simply shake his head, pace quickening as he drilled you into the bed. “Know you got another in you.. come on (Y/N).”

You whimpered, head pressed into the blankets as sobs escaped you. “Cho—Choso! Hah.. Can..can’t think, fuck!”

“Then don’t.” The man chuckled in a breathy tone, leaning close as his lips ghosted your lips. “Let me fuck everything out of your mind except for how good I’m making you feel..” A groan escaped him shortly after, eyes glossing over as he felt himself getting close.

Thrusts became desperate, the two of you dissolving into pathetic fits of moans and whines, hands moving across the other’s skin to grip and mark up. Just when you felt your mind going blank you shook, convulsing as you came all over his cock again.

Choso was close behind, burying himself deep and coming; eyes pinched close as he gripped you tightly. His hips stilled, heavy pants escaping the two of you.

The man pulled out shortly after, rolling off your body and falling to your side. Choso didn’t leave you alone long, reaching for your waist and pulling you into his side, turning to place a feverish kiss to his forehead.

A blissful silence covered the silence, simply enjoying the other’s company and warm bodies. Soon though, you rose up slowly, ignoring the aching of your body as your hand found his cheek. “I love you, Choso.”

He smiled at you, thumb caressing your skin as he kissed you gently— mumbling the same on your lips. Moments passed before you two pulled away, you snuggling in his neck arm strewn across his body.

Until.. you blinked, glancing around the room. “Wait.. whose room is this?”

“It’s a guest room.” He murmured back, chuckling softly after. “Gojo might be a little pissed if he finds out about this.”

You shook your head a little, sighing softly. “Choso..”

[fandomloreblog]

i need post-dmc5 headcanons for nero im begging 🥀/lh

AAAAH COMPLETELY FORGOT TO SHARE THESE!!! I’ve been out of the country for the last week I forgot to feed le masses 🤣

This post also counts as my announcement that I am accepting post DMC headcanon requests now :3

⚔️ Post-DMC5 Nero Headcanons 🍇

Again! While these are takes for my DMC6 sequel, you are more than welcome to use these for any sort of fanart, fics, whatever! Just please tag me, not for credit or anything, just because I wish to see what I accidentally inspire in y’all! I’m parched for DMC content!

Warnings: Mentions of PTSD and Trauma from DMC4, but otherwise all fluff!

Probably has the healthiest body out of the whole Sparda family. While he is on the leaner side, both Kyrie and Vergil make sure he has a healthy diet (unfortunately). He and Dante have cheat days where they sneak out and order pizza or other junk foods. Somehow Vergil always finds out, though.

Takes on a more emo/punk attire after Vergil and Dante get back, piercings, lots of torn jeans and shirts, the works. Part of him did it to contrast with his dad’s more prim and popper attire, but another part of him did it because we wanted to.

Still rocking the faux hawk, only because he tried dying his hair a bit ago and realized that color DOES NOT come out of white hair without God themselves intervening, so Kyrie had to buzz it all off so it grow back normally. He cried and looked like a shaved kiwi for almost a month. Dante never let him live it down.

Ends up getting really into DIY stuff. Mostly it’s with clothes and outfits, such as cutting up his own jeans and shirts and styling them into something he’ll like, but he does end up helping Nico when making new devil bringers. Strictly in a cosmetic sense, she never lets him touch any of the mechanical components.

He tried doing that once and ended up causing the prototype she made to combust and nearly set the van on fire. Since then there has been a “Nero Isn’t Allowed To Touch Nico’s Shit” rule.

Preferably spends time with Kyrie when not doing missions for DMC. Kyrie went to college after the events of DMC 5, so whenever she’s busy with schoolwork or classes, he’s at the Orphanage in Fortuna he and Kyrie own, helping out and watching over the kids.

Inadvertently has become somewhat of a Credo figure to the orphans, which he’s extremely conflicted about. Technically he’s almost the age Credo was when he died. (Nero’s 25 ATP, Credo died at 26 in my lore)

Speaking of Credo- He’s still hung up over his death. He still blames himself for what happened, and it haunts him. On the worst days, he’ll end ip having nightmares of what happened, or worse. It usually ends with him just lying awake in the living room playing shitty videogames or watching some childish cartoon show.

Occasionally Vergil or Dante wake up and join him as well. They don’t judge or ask why he’s up, just if he wants some snacks or why he chose Power Rangers to watch or something.

Kyrie also occasionally catches these moments. She usually just gives him hugs and cuddles and asks if he wants to talk. Sometimes they do, about how Credo was and funny memories. Sometimes they don’t, and just wallow in the silence until Nero starts crying. He’s been looking into possibly doing therapy, but then again, try explaining to a mental health professional that yes, demons are real, my older brother figure got killed by one, and no I’m not crazy.

Somehow has become MORE reckless after DMC5. Because all regrowing his arm taught Nero was that he could do that. And now he gives Vergil and Kyrie a heart attack whenever he comes back missing a leg or a hand because “Dante said the fish didn’t bite”.

Absolutely despises (and enjoys) how close Kyrie and Vergil have gotten. His girlfriend and his dad now tag team on him to take care of himself.

For hobbies, he mostly does artsy stuff. Sketching is his main go-to when bored, drawing concept art for a new Devil Bringer, or sneakily sketching one of the DMC members before they spot him. Has a whole sketchbook that is just pure Kyrie art which she stole from him. (He was embarrassed about it until she went “This is my most treasured possession now”)

He still also plays video games, mostly teaching Dante how some of them work. He’s basically the only computer literate one in DMC, so he’s the one that gets summoned when the wifi router breaks or when Dante can’t figure out the controls.

Also got into writing a little bit, mostly from Vergil. The poem book he left inspired him somewhat, so he started messing around with that. Vergil accidentally found one of Nero’s poems and assumed it was some lost page from his own book from “how good it was” which nearly made Nero cry. They occasionally have little poem/book club sessions.

Speaking of family- he ends up meeting Patty 3 days after the events of DMC5 because she kicked down their door with a sword questioning why Dante went AWOL. They end up getting along really well, with Patty teaching Nero most of what she knows about DIY. She started helping around at the mobile branch as an assistant, getting trained by Dante how to use some of the weapons until Dante says she’s “demon ready”.

He’s also been looking more into his mother and her disappearance. Not out of a familial sense, more so as just a way to get answers on his family tree and genealogy. He honestly assumes her to be dead, but he doesn’t verbalize it after seeing how hung up on LIR Vergil was. Also because a small part of him wants her to be alive too.

An even smaller part wishes that if she were alive, for her to come back and they could all be a proper family.

[dannyphantomr0ck5]

Creep Vlad Masters/Misunderstandings Prompt{DpxDc}

so y’all prolly don’t know this but I LOVE the misunderstandings trope with Vlad and Danny, but I usually like to turn the dial a bit from ‘old man just wants a kid to be his son’ to ‘creepy old man wants a son so bad he has children with ANOTHER child’ BOTH sound horrid, correct? WELL that’s because that’s BASICALLY how it is in the show. And well I’m OFF A BIT but Vlad in the cartoon is a fruit loop with wayyyy too much money and uses it to get CLOSER to a boy WHO he shouldn’t be!!! AND if I’m correct(can’t remember if this is canon or fanon) Vlad has planted BUGS IN EVERY ROOM IN DANNY’S HOUSE?!??! WTH VLAD??? MIX WITH DANTE/DAN AND ELLIE/DANIELLE BEING HIS CHILDREN AND TRANS DANNY?!??! YES PLS!!!

HERES THE PROMPT;

Damian has known the strange new student for roughly five days two minutes and…He looked at his watch…Six seconds. He totally is not counting because he likes the boy. No. In fact he couldn’t care less about Daniel! “Hi Dami!” GOD Damian HATED that smile! It made his stomach hurt and his face feel hot….DANIEL MUST BE POISONING HIM!!! OF COURSE! Why didn’t he think of that?! The boy must be poisoning his for his own nefarious agenda!!! He shall pay…Right after he says hi…

“Hello Daniel, we have a class project together. Your house,” he demanded. He HAD to know how and why Daniel was poisoning him. What if Daniel had done that to others?!??

—Fast forward to going to Danny’s house—

As they worked in the slightly messy living room, a baby cried out inside the house leaving Damian as Danny pounced up and almost slammed into almost every object he owned as he rushed down the apartment and into a room, Damian soon after. Inside the starry painted room was Daniel holding two children who looked like twins. They both had pitch black hair(same as Daniel’s…) and blue blue blue so blue eyes…Which matched Daniel’s eyes so…So..Perfectly…

“Daniel?” He was suspicious.

“yea…?” He sounded slightly upset, not at the children or Damian but more at the situation.

“You have siblings…?”

“Children.”

“What?”

“They’re my kids; Dante and Ellie…”

“What.”

“I had them at-“ he started to share before Damian put a hand up and silenced the boy.

“How old are YOU Daniel?”

He winced,” please don’t call me Daniel,” he whispered what sounded like ‘only he calls me that’ and continued,” I’m fifteen.” That was adequate, Damian himself was fourteen.

“When..?”

“When I had them?” Damian nodded,” twelve…”

that was when Damian decided this boy is now under his protection, he declared as such to Daniel only for the boy’s pale skin flush with a pink red of blood.

-End of Prompt…-

[plum-berry]

Casual

Summary: You've known Paddy for years. Things have always been casual between you two. You want it to change.

A/N: Ask and ye shall receive! More smut… bc why not. (I feel like I’m running out of ideas. I need some of y’all to pick up the slack and write fics I can read.)

You’ve known Paddy Pimblett since before the Octagon, back in year 10 when he was just a lanky kid kicking rocks on the way to school, shaved head and braces on his teeth. Back then, he was all elbows and untied trainers, more noise than boy and wide smile. He got detention for swearing in the halls at school and made you laugh until your ribs locked up in the back of science class. He passed you notes that said stupid things like “wanna skip?” with a crudely drawn smiley face, and you always wrote back “obviously.”

He’s still just Paddy to you. Even when the fights started — the real ones in cages instead of behind the school bleachers — you were there. You watched the school boy you knew become someone people chanted for. Tall and glorious, brights lights glittering in his eyes, blood on his gloves, and victory in his teeth.

But with you, he never changed. When he sang songs and danced playful in the ring, you still saw that boy you watched climb trees and fail history tests and sneak snacks into the library.

He still called you after big wins, breathless and buzzing, like you were the only person who mattered. You’d say something simple and safe, full of pride — “Proud of you, you absolute legend!” — and when he’d reply, you could always hear the smile in his voice.

You never told him that your heart jumped every time he called. You certainly never asked if his did too. And you definitely don’t talk about the nights you stay up scrolling through clips of his post-fight interviews, or how you hold your breath when he takes a hit, or how your lips tremble until the referee lifts his arm high and mighty. You never ask him what he thinks of you, and he never asks if you’re watching.

You both know the answer.

You've never admitted you love and care for each other. Not in those words, anyway. You say it in other ways. In takeaway dinners dropped off after training. In voice notes sent at 2 a.m. when you’re both delirious, brains racing. In the way he touches you without thinking — your knee, your shoulder, a strand of your hair flicked gently aside.

But then he always pulls back.

And when he’s gone, Liverpool gets smaller.

You notice it on the days he’s training elsewhere or off doing media rounds. He still sends you pictures of his dinner and memes, and you send back long voice notes about how shit British weather is to make him feel more at home. Even then, the city feels quieter, and you stay in more than you should. You become reclusive, and yet, you never really said it aloud. How much you miss him.

You’ve thought more than once that maybe you’d both be happier if you just left and found somewhere quieter, smaller. Somewhere no one expects Paddy to be. Somewhere he doesn’t have to smile when he’s tired, or talk when he wants silence.

You imagine a flat with two mugs in the sink and your jackets tangled on the same hook. Your shoes piled at the doorway together, your pillows next to each other. You imagine waking up late, grocery shopping together on a Sunday, watching old movies with the curtains drawn.

“I ever tell you I hate how everyone stares?” he says once, while you’re both sitting on the steps outside his mum’s house, sharing a bag of crisps. It’s a cool autumn day, and you’re both sat watching the sunset bleed into darkness.

“Only about twenty times,” you reply, passing him the bag. You shiver and rub your arms a bit before pulling your knees to your chest.

He looks at you then — soft, quiet. “D’you ever think about leaving?”

You lean against your knees, and from this angle, the milky reds and pinks of the sunset set his blue eyes ablaze. Your heart stutters.

“All the time,” you say. And after a pause, you nudge him with your shoe, “But I think I’d be real sad without you.”

He doesn’t say anything. Just nods and hands you the last crisp.

And that’s really what it’s about.

It’s about the way he leans into you when he’s laughing, the way his fingers unconsciously tap against your thigh when he’s driving you around places. The way he lets his head drop on your shoulder when he’s exhausted, the way he always gives you the last bite of a snack.

You’ve shared beds before — when traveling, when drinking, when you’ve stayed up so late talking there’s no ride shares. Always under the guise of friendship. Always, it’s too dark, it’s not safe to go home.

You remember one night in particular.

The press was loud with opinions after a match. They reported that Paddy’s fights were rigged, and he wasn’t as good as he was being made out to be. He wasn’t talking much, and you knew it had gotten under his skin.

You stayed with him in his hotel. Didn’t ask questions, didn’t push.

That night, you laid side by side on top of the covers, his arm brushing up against yours, the room wrapped in darkness and silence. You whispered something about hating fanboys. He laughed once, tired.

“I don’t care what they think,” he murmured, shuffling to turn on his side.

“Well, I care.” You crossed your arms and huffed, “I think they’re all braindead losers.”

He didn’t respond, but you could feel his gaze in the darkness. You had rolled over to face him, barely able to make out the outline of his face in the dark. Gently, you placed a hand in between the two you, “You’re the strongest person I know.”

And he reached for your hand, linking your fingers without thinking. You stayed like that until the sun crept through the curtains.

When you both woke in tangled limbs, neither of you mentioned it in the morning.

But you think about it all the time.

Especially nights like tonight.

He’s finally home from Miami. He’s a bit bruised and jet-lagged, but he’s buzzing and burning with leftover adrenaline. He is still insistent on celebrating when he lands. At some point, you drift away from each other. You’re dancing with your friends, swaying to the rhythm, the air hot and thick with perfume and sweat and alcohol.

Your eyes keep drifting back to him.

You hadn’t really had the opportunity to talk to each other. You both shared a large group of friends, and they had his attention first. You knew your turn would come, though.

Paddy stood near the bar, one arm resting on the counter, drink in hand, eyes steady with yours. His jaw was tight. Even from across the room, you could tell he was trying to look casual and cool, but the set of his broad shoulders told you everything. He was watching you like he couldn’t help it.

And maybe that was the reason your smile lingered longer than it should’ve. Maybe it was why you swayed your hips just a little more deliberately.

You were barely a few beats into the next song when a guy you didn’t recognize slid up beside you. Tall, with a backwards cap and a cologne that felt like lit napalm in your nose.

“Hey,” he said, leaning in. “You here alone?”

You gave him a polite smile, pushing your body closer to your oblivious friends. “Nah, I’m with friends!”

His eyes dipped lower than they should’ve. “That so? Didn’t see anyone next to you.”

You shifted away, but not too suddenly. No need to be rude. Still, your gaze flicked up, over the guy’s shoulder, and straight to Paddy.

He hadn’t moved. He hadn’t blinked.

You held his stare.

Even from across the club, you could feel it. Something that had been growing for too long fizzled in the air. You hadn’t seen him look at you like that before. It was hot and heavy, and it had you bothered.

His mouth was set in a firm line, eyes darker than usual.

The guy kept talking, but his voice faded beneath the beat. Something about grabbing a drink, or maybe heading outside. You barely heard it. You didn’t care.

“I’m good, thanks,” you said firmly, offering a quick smile before pushing through the crowd, leaving him behind. You headed straight over to Paddy.

He didn’t say anything when you reached him, just raised an eyebrow.

“Why’re you standing over here like you’re guarding something?” you teased, chest rising and falling from dancing. You grab him by the arms and shake him gently, “We’re supposed to be celebrating!”

Paddy smiled crooked at you. “Guardin’? You mean keepin’ an eye on you before one of them idiots tries anything stupid.”

It was probably the alcohol that made you bold enough to slide closer and say, “You’ve been watching me all night. Are you jealous?”

He didn’t answer — just let his eyes wander a little too long over your lips, your neck, the way your chest rose and fell from dancing. The weight of it made your stomach flip. You reach for him, fingers brushing his wrist. He flinches. You’re suddenly nervous.

“Have I done something?” you ask quietly.

“No,” he says too quickly. “You’ve never done anything wrong.”

Later, when the group spills out into the street, a brisk downfall of rain starts, sharp and sudden. You yelp and throw your arms over your head, laughing giddy at the cool relief. Paddy shrugs off his jacket before you can even complain, swinging it over your head. It’s warm from his body, and it smells like him. He pulls you forward, clasping you in the jacket with his hands. You blink up at him in surprise.

He’s grinning, a little smug. “Didn’t want you soaked to the bone.”

You roll your eyes, but your cheeks are hot.

By the time you get back to his flat, your legs are soaked and you’re shivering. He disappears for a second and comes back with a hoodie — oversized and soft.

“Here,” he says, avoiding your gaze, tossing it at you gently. “Get warm.”

You change in the spare bathroom, trying not to overthink it, stay casual and calm. When you finally step into his bedroom, barefoot and swallowed by his hoodie, he’s already in the main bathroom.

You crawl onto his bed. It smells like him too. You curl into the pillows, scrolling your phone, waiting for him so you can pick a movie like you always do. But this night doesn’t feel like always. Your skin is still buzzing from the way he looked at you earlier. From the heat of his hands brushing your waist when he gave you the jacket. From the way his eyes dropped to your lips and —

Paddy walks out of the bathroom in low-slung joggers, a towel around his neck, hair wet and curling. His eyes find you and suddenly you’re embarrassed at how you’re a little too comfortable in his bed and his clothes.

He freezes for a second, like he’s seeing you for the first time and all at once. It’s never been like this before.

You tuck your knees into his hoodie. “You okay?”

He doesn’t answer. Just stares for another beat.

“Patrick,” and you never use his full name, “what is wrong? You’ve been all weird and distant, and I don’t know if I’ve done something or —”

But then he walks toward you slowly, towel dropping from his neck to the floor, hands dragging through his hair like he’s trying to shake something off. He stops at the edge of the bed.

“I’ve been trying to ignore this,” he starts, quiet and keeping his distance.

You crawl closer to the edge of the bed. You feel like a child, desperate for his attention and guidance. “Ignore what?”

“You.” His voice is hoarse.

You blink, heart hammering. You open your mouth, but he’s already leaning in, eyes locked on yours, giving you time to pull away.

You don’t.

He reaches out and grips your hoodie, lifting you up to your knees. He presses his forehead into yours, and you sit there briefly, just staring at each other. Neither of you say anything for a beat, content to listen to your breathing sync. And then, “You can touch me, Paddy. I don’t bite.”

He smothers his lips along your neck, down to your shoulder, teeth nipping against the skin. He’s quiet for a moment as his hands slide under your thighs. Then he says, “Don’t go back home.”

You pull him down to the bed so that he’s hovering above you. “I’d never leave you.”

He breathes through his nose and grips the nape of your neck closer, licking into your mouth, hand sweeping against your ribcage, pushing the hoodie up and over. It sparks a hot feeling down in you, quick and liquid fire.

You don’t have the chance to be timid when you’re both undressed because he is crashing his lips back to yours. He is not careful or slow. It’s years of longing and frustration and everything unspoken burning hot to the surface. He kisses like he fights — fierce and focused.

He settles himself over you, pinning you down with his weight and trapping you against the bed. Your kisses become more urgent, and you wrap your legs and arms around him. You hope you never get over the feeling of skin against skin, because it feels so good every time he touches you. You just want to be consumed by the heat of your bodies pressed tight together. You fit so well into him, and it spreads that molten heat further into your body.

Eventually, his hand finds its way between the warmth of your thighs, fingers lightly dancing around your clit and entrance. A shockwave of pleasure rolls through you as he thumbs at your clit. His rough fingers spread your folds and dip to press in without warning. He slips two fingers into the knuckle, slowly pulling out to push back in, rhythmic and playful. Your breathing is shallow already, but when you look down at his fingers slowly pumping in and out of you, a broken sound escapes your throat.

When he presses his erection hard against your thigh, you can feel how heavy and thick it is. You throw your head back, bucking into his hand, eager and hungry.

“I’m going to fuck you tonight,” he promises, whispering huskily against your throat.

You shudder at the words, sharply breathing in.

He quickens his pace, fucking his fingers into you. His other hand rests on the trembling plane of your stomach, pushing down as his fingers hook up and glide roughly. A bundle of nerves tightens and flexes in your stomach. You’re near-sobbing, writhing and whimpering and drawn tight. You bury your hands into his hair, huffing shakily into the air between the two of you. His fingers curl against that bundle of nerves again, shooting electricity up your spine. You hold your breath, stars dancing underneath your eyelids. You instinctively spread your legs wider, trying to take his fingers in deeper.

“That’s it,” he encourages. “Spread your legs for me, just like that, pretty girl.” 

You grip at his shoulders, squirming, “Paddy, please.”

He kisses a trail up your neck, “Please what?”

You writhe under him, needy and dripping into the sheets, “Please, Paddy, please fuck me!”

Before you can process what’s happening, he’s pushing his cock inside, slow and steady, inch by inch, and god, he fills you just right. He praises you with his lips, pressing kisses against your face as he forces you open, stretching you open. You screw your eyes shut, gasping out as the air is pushed out of you. You pull him down by his hair, curling your body up and off the mattress into his chest. His body covers yours so easily, and it feels so right to be there. 

“Open your eyes,” he demands, “I want to watch you.”

He wants you to see him, to know who was fucking you and claiming you. When he shifts his hands to your hips to yank you down into the thrusts, you roll your hips down with a needy whimper. He thrusts hard right up into you, and you cry out, digging your fingers into his shoulders.

“Baby,” he says, body covering yours again, pressing sloppy kisses on your collarbone, “so good for me.”

He grabs you by the chin, kissing you forcefully. He raises your hips up off the bed, tilting them so that he’s deep inside of you, right where you want him to be. Where you’ve wanted him for so long.

You clench and quiver around him, and his thrusts speed up, brutal and punishing. He fucks you into the mattress, hammering into the spot that makes you feel ready to fall apart with pleasure.

You shudder and shake against him, clinging onto his back for stability as you finish hard with a bright, keening sound. The bundle of nerves in your core unravels and explodes, igniting your nerves. You feel him everywhere, shaking numb with pleasure. You clench hard around him in waves of sensation, milking his cock. He goes to pull out, but you lock your ankles around him.

“Cum in me,” you beg between kisses, “I want you to fuck it into me.”

Paddy groans low in his throat as his body shudders, and he’s coming with a growl, spilling his seed deep inside, pushing it deep into you with solid, sure thrusts. He collapses on top of you, blanketing you with his body. You close your eyes, trying to catch your breath. You can feel him twitch inside of you, his forehead pressed to your cheek, both of you slick with sweat.

“Hey,” he pulls you closer to him. You turn your cheek against his arm, peering up at him through wet eyelashes. “Are you - are you okay?”

You realize you’re shaking, skin vibrating and flush. You have no idea what to say, except, “I’m pretty sure I love you.”

He blinks, slowly, shocked. “Do you?”

You feel vulnerable and soft and small. “It scares me. Saying that.”

“That’s okay.” He reaches out, running his fingers from your cheek down to your shoulder. He smiles sweetly and whispers in your ear, his breath hot against your chin. “I love you, too.”

[mariquitaaa]

childhood bsf riri

reader moves back to chicago and riri acts a fool!

a/n: lesbian alert yall know the drill. riri loves lucky daye cause @inmyheadimobsessed headcannons it and now i do 2. tw mentions of natalie im so sorry cuties but she seemed so necessary!!!!

- everyone knew. but you. and her apparently.

“you like her riana”

“no- what! why would you say that?”

- your family moved back to chicago when you were a junior. you used to visit every summer but stopped in recent years. as a child, you played with, zelma, natalie, xavier, and riri, but you didnt know what to expect after so many years

- as a housewarming gift for your family moving back to chicago, ms.williams came flowers and a meal. when they arrived, you opened the door to a beautiful ms.williams and a shy riri standing behind her.

- the whole time the two were there, riri was just staring cause she didnt remember you looking like that???

- of course y’alls moms were not only excited your family is back, but also for you and riri to be close again

“go on to the room! talk, have fun.”

and both of yall are just standing there. awkward asl.

“alright..”

- riri was so shy when you guys first reunited. that girl could barely hold eye contact and constantly fidgeted with her hands. but even though you made her nervous, your presence calmed her

- she saw some music posters in your room and folded on some kehlani shit

“you listen to lucky daye?”

“you dont?”

- you guys spent the rest of the afternoon talking about music. her eyes lit up during her rambles. she couldnt help but admire you when sharing your playlists either

- by the time dinner came around the two of you constantly stole glances from the other

- when she left her mother gave her the biggest side eye

“so.. your new friend.”

“oh. my god. mom.”

“i see you two are getting along.”

“its nothing!”

- riri helped you refamiliarize yourself with chicago. her friends were now your friends and vise versa

- her help even extended to school

- “lemme walk you to class” meanwhile hers is across campus

- in class she’d ask you for help. 99% of the time she knows the answer but she gets to hear you talk

- she found excuses to spend time with you with suchhhh ease

“we have to study for this midterm, you free?”

“i wanted to show you this thing i made, come over”

“you haven’t seen this part of chi in sooo long though”

- since you moved back, ms.williams even noticed a difference in riri’s behavior

“alright mama i’m out”

“with your girlfriend?”

“with my friend mama!”

- asks you what hairstyle she should get. she wanna look good per your suggestion!!

- xavier is getting sick of yall and quick! cause why are you guys texting one another in a room full of people.

“y’all are deadass right next to eachother.”

“memes cant be spoken xa.”

- at some point zelma has to ask wtf is going on cause every time she hangs out with her friends she immediately becomes a third wheel.

“can lesbians not be friends zelma??”

“not when yall are oogling at eachother like that, no.”

- across school people have already assumed yall are together (you guys arent)(you think)

“we arent together, she doesnt even like me like that.”

“so y’all didnt kiss just now?”

“what? no, natalie. we’re just friends.”

- yea cause friends definitely pick flowers for eachother and cuddle when watching niche movies and ‘don’t’ flirt with eachother

“you look good today”

“i look good everyday”

“and thats why i tell you everyday”

- ms.williams knew something was definitely going on when riri was taking you to her dad’s garage and showing you her gadgets

“sweetie you know my love for you is unwavering. and i love her!”

“mama!”

- her confession was very riana williams

- you met her at the garage where she was (very nervously) molding metal for a project. she grabbed her bag and y’all went on a long walk, stopping by the river. she pulled some snacks and a blanket out of her bag. the two of you sat, and talked, and ate, and enjoyed the other person.

“im really happy you exist. im even happier you’re in my life.”

she pulled a scrapmetal bouquet out of her now empty bag

“shit, uh, i dont know how to say it so im just gonna do it. can i be your girlfriend?”

- smiles into every kiss ever

- still calls you the nickname you had when you were kids

“yea, okay princess”

- no matter how long the two of you have been dating she will forever be nervous

- cannot go 5 mins without touching you but god forbid you lay a hand on riri her heart will stop and her tongue will tie itself

“shit.”

“you got me fucked up, damn”

- gets tense asf when people hit on you

- whenever someone doesnt know where riri is they ask you

“is riri with you?”

“you know where riri is?”

- since you guys have known eachother for so long, she trusted you easily. her favorite pasttime is having deep conversations with you. not only cause she gets to learn more about you and hear you talk and look at your pretty face but also cause she can share her ideas with someone who genuinely understands

- now believes in her moms crystals n spiritual stuff

“damn that rose quartz really worked.”

so basically reader w childhoodbsf!riri is goals and i #needthat

[rosygames-archive]

hello!

Hello, everyone. I apologize for the year and a half long silence. I have my reasons. Last I posted here, I was talking about how the heatwave in the Philippines had gotten so severe that I was having headaches and missing classwork. It did get better! However, there was a problem with itch.io where it wouldn’t work on our internet provider (Globe, I don’t know if any Filipinos here had the same problem a year ago). We had asked for help but apparently the site was blocked for our internet provider and we were asked to pay extra to have it unblocked. We didn’t do that since it was quite expensive for a monthly bill. It started working again, for some reason. I don’t know if it’ll go back to being unusable but it’s been going well for some months now.

Then, late last year something had happened in my personal life that I don’t wish to share. It’s incredibly private and basically affected every part of my life for the next year. I had to drop a few classes, and that did cause me to not graduate “on time”. Again, I don’t wish to share because it’s still sort of a sore topic and it’s incredibly private but it affected basically our entire household.

For quite some time, I was ready to just not continue this game. For months, I mostly focused on getting work done on academic projects instead of doing anything creative just for myself. I also wasn't sure if people would still be interested in reading this game, anyway, so I was scared to come back and put effort into it.

However, I did still keep coming back to mess with the code of what I’ve done for the Twine rewrites, and I kept adding more information to the lore I’d created. I kept trying to fix problems, writing down new ideas. To graduate, we’re supposed to work on a “special project” and I also picked this game to work on it because I wanted to work on something I was into, instead of the number of other less exciting (imo) options. Clearly, I wasn’t done with this game.

For the past few months, I’ve been working on the game. I did it for my project but since I was going deep into the game, I thought why not just continue it here? I haven’t been pushing updates because I am still working on basically overhauling the entire game. I added to the UI of the game and the lore, and I’m fixing the characters (and romantic options) so it isn’t too daunting in the long run.

I only have the prologue at the moment and it isn’t fully ready. I’m polishing some things and I’ll be busy the rest of the year, but I think I can get the prologue up and running early next year, then Chapter 1 some time after. I will be creating a new account since this is filled with old lore and I wanted to separate my personal account from the game dev account.

For those still interested, I’ll post about the new account once it’s ready. I do apologize for the long break, it’s unfortunate but life was not kind to me and I entered a burnout phase because of it. I also had to prioritize my catching up to everything I missed academics-wise late last year to the first half of this year. I hope even just a fraction of y’all are still interested!

I’ll be back with the new account and the prologue soon. Have a happy holidays, everyone! I hope the next year is kinder to all of us!

[swrkn]

Between the lines (part 2)

Highschool!hyuk x Highschool!reader

Genre ; sfw , fluff

Author note ; i said i was gonna do a part 2 to this story so here it is today ;)

Hyuk found himself walking to the library after school more often than he expected. At first, he told himself it was just about getting better at math. You were a great tutor, and his grades were actually starting to improve. But deep down, he knew the real reason he kept showing up was you.

Every session started the same way: you would wave him over to your usual spot by the window, where the afternoon light streamed in, illuminating notebooks and textbooks. You’d go through the problems, your patient voice guiding him through each step.

But over time, your conversations began to drift away from equations and formulas.

“So,” you said one afternoon, leaning back in your chair after you’d finished a particularly tough problem set, “how come you never talk much in class?”

Hyuk glanced at you, quit surprised. “Didn’t think anyone noticed.”

You smiled. “I notice. You’re always staring out the window, like you’re somewhere else.”

Hyuk shrugged, a little embarrassed. “Guess I just don’t like drawing attention to myself. People assume I don’t care about school, but it’s not that simple.”

You tilted your head, curious. “Then why don’t you show them what you’re capable of? You’re smarter than you let on, Hyuk.”

Your words caught him off guard. He’d never heard anyone say that before—not like they really believed it.

“Maybe,” he said, his voice softer. “I don’t know. It’s easier to just… stay in the background.”

You didn’t press further, but the way you looked at him made Hyuk feel like you saw right through his defenses.

“What about you?” he asked, changing the subject. “You’re always so focused. Don’t you ever get tired of being perfect all the time?”

You laughed, a sound that made Hyuk’s heart skip. “Perfect? Far from it. I just… I guess I feel like I have to prove myself. My parents expect a lot, and sometimes it feels like I’m always racing to keep up.”

Hyuk frowned. “That sounds tough.”

“It is,” you admitted, gaze dropping to your hands. “But that’s why I like these study sessions. It’s different. You’re different.”

Hyuk blinked. “Me?”

“Yeah,” you said, your smile returning. “You don’t pretend to be someone you’re not. It’s refreshing.”

Hyuk felt his face heat up, and for once, he was glad you weren’t looking directly at him.

As the weeks went on, your bond grew stronger. You’d laugh over dumb jokes, share stories about classmates, and sometimes, just sit in comfortable silence. Hyuk started to look forward to those quiet moments in the library, where it felt like the rest of the world didn’t matter.

One day, as y’all were packing up, you looked lire you were hesitating about something.

“Hey, Hyuk,” you said, with your voice a little nervous.

“Yeah?”

“There’s this school festival coming up next weekend. I was wondering if… you’d want to go with me? You know, as a break from all this studying.”

Hyuk stared at her, caught off guard. “Like… together?”

You nodded, looking embarrassed. “Yeah, I mean, if you want to.”

Hyuk’s heart raced. He’d been waiting for a moment like this, but now that it was here, he could hardly believe it.

“I’d like that,” he said, his voice steady despite the butterflies in his stomach. “Let’s go together.”

Your smile lit up the room. “Great. It’s a date, then.”

The festival was everything Hyuk had hoped for and more. The two of you wandered through the booths, playing games and sharing snacks. You laughed freely, your usual seriousness replaced by a playful energy that Hyuk couldn’t get enough of.

At one point, you found yourselves sitting under a tree, watching the sunset as the festival lights flickered on.

“This is nice,” you said, with a soft voice.

“Yeah,” Hyuk agreed, slightly glancing at you “It is.”

There was a brief silence, the kind that felt more like anticipation than awkwardness.

“Y/N,” Hyuk said, his voice a little hesitant.

You turned to him, with curious eyes. “Yeah?”

“I’ve been wanting to say something for a while now,” he admitted, his heart pounding. “I really like spending time with you. You make everything… better.”

Your eyes softened, and you reached out your hand, gently brushing against his. “I feel the same way, Hyuk.”

Hyuk’s breath caught. “Really?”

You nodded, your smile shy but sincere. “Yeah. I’ve liked you for a while now.”

Hyuk couldn’t help but grin. “Guess I’ve been pretty slow to catch up, huh?”

You laughed, squeezing his hand. “Maybe a little. But you’re here now, and that’s what matters.”

As the festival music played softly in the background, Hyuk leaned closer, his nerves fading. You met him halfway, your lips brushing in a gentle, tentative kiss.

When you pulled back, both of you were smiling, the weight of unspoken feelings finally lifted.

From that moment on, everything felt lighter, brighter. You weren’t just study partners or friends anymore. You were something more.

And for Hyuk, life suddenly felt a whole lot more meaningful.

✵

[shesthespinstersimmer]

Pod (9) (Lavender /2)

Previous / Next / Beginning

🎩 tip @riverofjazzsims

Transcript 👇🏾

BABS: Shout out to ÅŞÉ - I heard that place is amazing. Did you enjoy the class?

SOREN: It’s beautiful. And the vibes are immaculate.

Kind of wish my skills were a little better; I felt like I wasn’t really worthy of the place.

BABS: but you’re really fit; was it that much of a struggle?

SOREN: Yoga is a completely different beast. Believe me. But I did my best.

BABS: So – you told me to buckle up and I’m still waiting; doesn’t seem very bumpy so far.

SOREN: Right. After some thought, I’m not sure I wanna talk about it on air.

BABS: Tell you what - It’s commercial time. Why don’t we talk about it on the break, then we can decide what you feel comfortable sharing?

You gonna get me beat up; the chat is going nuts. Calm down y’all; me and Soren are gonna have a little talk and we’ll be back right after this break. If y’all want something to do, may I suggest getting your tickets for the summer events – they’re selling out fast. We’ll be right back.

[ STARTS COMMERCIAL BREAK AND MUTES THE MICS ]

BABS: What the hell happened?

SOREN: Bro - she slipped out on me, man; I complemented her and she lost it.

BABS: What?? ‘Flipped out’ how? What did you say, exactly?

SOREN: All I did is ask her what she’d like to do for her date.

BABS: You had to have said more than that. What did she say? What did she do?

SOREN: She asked me where I was taking the other girls. I told her I haven’t met them all yet.

She then asked me some weird question about how many points she got?? I told her none; this isn’t a competition.

That really set her off. She said she knows for a fact that this is a contest. She doesn’t like that, but at least she wants a fair shot.

BABS: Oh my God. I’ll have Blair call her and explain everything; don’t worry about it.

SOREN: No need – we hashed it out.

I told her this wasn’t a competition; hell, even I didn’t want to participate in a competition when it came to dating. I told her it was all about vibing with people, meeting new people, and seeing if I clicked with anyone.

I told her let’s just enjoy the experience and have fun. She chilled out after that.

BABS: i’m still gonna get Blair to check on her. Time to come back from commercial; we’ll pick this up later.