#will become the most annoying person u know

[suguslve]

thinking about loser (perv) idia .ᐟ

♰ pairings. idia shroud x shy fem! reader

♰ warnings. suggestive content. loser! idia at first but then he becomes a pervert (yum). noncon (?). pantie sniffing and stealing. stalking. uhhh idk what else. mdni

♰ word count. 1.5k

♰ a/n. i was on idia brainrot these past few weeks and decided to whip a lil something up ;) enjoy reading and lmk your thoughts!

— loser! idia who kept his head down, ignoring everyone, why does crowley need ALL housewardens to attend to a stupid meeting in the first place? he was busy uttering curses in his mind when your sweet voice broke the ruckus. his head snapped up just slightly, just enough to steal a glance at you. w-wait were you stuttering?! and you weren’t just stuttering—you were anxiously fidgeting with your hands too!! are you nervous because of the meeting? because of someone? or—wait—what if you’re nervous because you hate crowds too?! oh god, did he just find a fellow social avoidance expert??

— loser! idia who actually wanted to approach and talk to you, but obviously he’s a coward. yeah, nope, definitely NOT happening. he’d literally rather fight a final boss solo with no revives than approach you right now. and so, as the meeting adjourns, he quickly and quietly leaves the room (with his heart racing wildly and his face burning). 

— loser! idia who desperately tried to avoid you at every turn—but it was like the universe had other plans. no matter where he tried to hide, there you were. his carefully scouted, ultra-secret, 1000% normie-free safe zones? infiltrated. by you. of all people. what kind of cruel RNG was this?! ugh, this was turning into a way bigger side quest than he signed up for. his usual gaming hideout behind the school? you were there, sitting on the steps, quietly reading. the abandoned hallway near the library? you showed up, looking just as startled to see him as he was to see you. EVEN THE ROOFTOP—his ultimate last resort—had somehow become your preferred quiet spot?! and the worst part is sometimes, he’d see you there… and instead of running, he’d hesitate. just for a second. because—ugh, he’d never say it out loud—but you weren’t loud like the other normies. you weren’t disruptive. you were just… there. quiet. fidgeting. existing in your own little world.

— loser! idia who finally gained the courage to approach you. oh but trust him, it wasn’t like he wanted to—he just… happened to be in the same spot as you (again), and instead of immediately running in the opposite direction like usual, he somehow convinced himself to stay. which, might have been a huge mistake because the second your eyes flickered up to meet his, his brain immediately started screaming. abort, abort, abort— but you’d already seen him. his escape route had been cut off. and he just stood there, shifting on his feet, pulling at the strings of his hoodie like it was a lifeline. his mouth opened. closed. opened again. say something, you coward! 

— loser! idia who mumbled the weakest, most pathetic greeting ever known. “u-uh…yo?” his voice cracked, and he wanted the ground to swallow him up whole there on the spot. that was so cringe!! seriously?! ‘yo’?! what am i a generic background delinquent?! while he was having a crisis, you chuckled softly before greeting him in return. idia.exe has stopped working.

— loser! idia who didn’t know how this “friendship” between you even started. at first he avoided you like the plague and the next thing he knew, you two were hanging out like it was normal. at first, he figured you were just another shy person suffering through NRC, but the more you talked, the more he realized—wait, you actually get him?! you didn’t just tolerate his rants about games, anime, and how normies were a blight upon existence—you joined in. he slowly let his guard down around you. he didn’t even mean to, but you were just… easy to talk to. there were no expectations, no forced small talk, no annoying social pressure. if you two sat in silence, it wasn’t awkward. if you talked, it wasn’t exhausting. before he knew it, he was complaining about gacha rates and actually making jokes without wanting to crawl into a hole and die afterward.

— loser! idia who slowly fell for you and your little quirks. but hey! it’s not like you can blame him. you were stupidly cute in ways that made his heart do dumb things. you matched his energy—avoiding crowds, hiding from normies, nerding out over random things. you got excited about the smallest details, and somehow, somehow, you even made him feel like maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t the biggest loser in existence.

— loser! idia who slowly became possessive and obsessive over you. it started as just worry, okay?! totally normal levels of concern. but then his mind started spiraling—what if something bad happened to you and he wasn’t around?! NRC was a literal villain academy, full of shady, power-hungry weirdos, you can’t trust any of the students here—well, aside from him and ortho but that’s besides the point! you—with your big doe eyes and painfully sweet personality—were basically walking around with a giant “EASY TARGET” sign on your back. you can be easily taken advantage of!

— loser! idia who swore to be your protector. it wasn’t even a choice at this point—it was a necessity. so what if he wasn’t exactly the heroic, sword-wielding, normie-approved protector type? he had brains. he had strategy. and most importantly—he had a highly advanced AI-powered little brother who could do background checks on anyone who so much as looked at you funny. he might be a loser, but if he notices someone teasing or making you uncomfortable, he’ll reluctantly step in. “H-hey, back off, normie… uh, I mean, don’t be rude, or whatever…” then he drags you away like a panicked introvert escaping a social interaction.

— loser perv! idia who set up cameras all over ramshackle dorm to “keep an eye out on you.” it wasn’t stalking! no no, this was just preventative security measures! NRC was dangerous, okay?! a totally defenseless, magicless, too-trusting person like you? living alone in a rundown, ghost-infested dorm? that was basically asking for trouble. anyone with half a brain would’ve done the same! (right?)

— loser perv! idia who watches you 24/7 watching everything. the way you got ready for bed. the way you sighed and stretched when you thought no one was looking. the way your shirt slipped off your shoulder sometimes. and oh god, when you absentmindedly played with the hem of your skirt or chewed on the end of your pen? yeah. he was so beyond saving. okay so maybe he checked the cameras a little too often. maybe he kept the feed open on one of his monitors at all times. maybe he watched you even when there was no actual danger. but it’s not like he was doing anything weird! just… making sure you weren’t lonely!

— loser perv! idia who became utterly obsessed with you. he’d watch you from afar, his eyes tracing every movement, every smile. his room was filled with pictures of you, some taken without your knowledge. his obsession grew darker, more twisted. his obsession became all-consuming. he hacked into your social media accounts, reading your private messages and learning more about you than you ever intended to share. he’d watch you through hidden cameras he installed in your room, feeling a twisted sense of satisfaction as he invaded your privacy.

— loser perv! idia who snuck into your dorm one night as you were asleep. he watched you for hours, his heart racing with excitement and fear. oh how he wanted to touch you, to feel your skin against his. but he knew he couldn’t risk waking you up. instead, he roamed your room. touching your things, smelling the perfume you use, looking at the plushies you kept, but it wasn’t enough, so he made his way to your bathroom and went through all your dirty clothing. sniffing the clothes you wore, rummaging for ages until he found it. your soiled panties. he took them all, moaning as he smelt your scent on them. god he can feel himself growing hard right now. he took your underwear and kept them all on the pocket of his hoodie. but before he left he made sure to give you one look, and well maybe a peck on your cheek, but it’s not like you’d find out, right?

— loser perv! idia who rushed to his dorm room and locked it to make sure no one would disturb him. 

— loser perv! idia who watched various amounts of hentai that night, imagining it was you writhing and moaning under him. he pulled off his sweats and boxers and let his cock free. he hissed as the cold air hit his cock—then, he pulled your panties from where he had kept them. one hand sniffing it, and the other jerking himself off. he was so close, he could feel it, and so he took your underwear and jerked himself with it. oh fuck, he couldn’t take it anymore.

— loser perv! idia who couldn’t help himself from moaning your name over, and over until he came hard. his mind filled with dirty thoughts of defiling your innocence. god, he can’t wait to ruin you. he jerked himself faster, and faster until he came. his fluids soiling your panties. his breathing was labored, cheeks flushed. ah shit, this wasn’t gonna cut it, he needed more.

all rights reserved to © suguslve.

[you-me-we-04]

All my Succession S4 thoughts in one post

What it says above fair warning some of these will contradict each other, some  have evidence some based of ~ vibes ~ some i just think would be funny some also come from bits of leaks so read at your own risk and if you want more depth on any of these let me know. 

- Tom and Greg are not Team Logan, their Team Tom Greg it just so happens that Logan best severs their needs for now..

- Everyone but Greg dies in a plane crash, Greg only lived cause he went home to grab his weed, because he is the last man standing he just gets give the company 

- After the fight we see in the trailer Tom will storm off, Shiv all alone will break down, later on Kendall will be the one to comfort her 

- The rebel alliance works for about 2 seconds before it all falls apart 

- Tomgreg kiss early in the season pre Tom’s divorce, so Greg goes full breakdown mode since he feels like he’s becoming his dad after not talking to Tom for an episode or two (during this Ewan also dies cause why not), adding more to Greg’s breakdown. At some point during Connor and Willa’s wedding he caves and goes to talk to Tom, this will lead to the Tomgreg sex scene (that we will all have to sit through)

- Shiv dates a woman, its great 

- Everyone kinda ends up back were we started, Tom and Greg still are outsiders (chilling in the gay art galley), While everyone else is dealing with a Logan health crisis Kendall wants everyone to think he has his shit together so he can take over the company, Roman is working in waystar but still feels like he hasn’t been able to reach his full potential, Shiv is back working in politics/pr outside of waystar and Connor and Willa are just kinda hangout  

- The ending get meta Willa writes a tv plot about the family it gets pick up by HBO, the family is pissed but Connor kinda just turns into a proud house husband (or she writes a play about the family that does well)

- Logan dies and their some surprise in the will (love child, Connor gets everything, Greenpeace gets everything, take ur pick) 

- The Kenstewy hug happens right before news about that kid Kendall killed leaks (For Kendall to be happy, Kendall must suffer right after, this is how succession works)

- We never find out what wrong with Roman 

- Roman Roy breakdown 

- Shiv actual gets pushed down the stairs 

- Logan (or Kendall) dies in the last episode and it cuts to black we never find out what happens after (sopranos style)

- Logan dies mid argument with the rebel alliance 

- We get ONE Mr darcy joke from greg 

- In the final Hour a famous romcom actor shows up as Greg’s gay dad 

- Some bullshit about the Succession ending at s4 but the show get renamed to something else like Successor which is how we end up with the kinda s5 following the family after Logan death

- They forget to write Kendall’s kids into the season 

- Gerri ends up on top but kills Roman in her rise to total power (We stan)

[gallusgalluss]

please unleash your inspekta thoughts

your art is amazing i cant stop looking at it

i hope you have a happy new year!!

end of jan edit: when i wrote this i only really played through the game once :V after playing the game a few more times some of my thoughts n analysis parts of this have changed a lot. not gonna go in an change it all cause I Dont Have The Time. but just a heads up ig 👍 inspekta is still the evil worm that lives in my brain at all times

happy new year anon n thank you :]!!!!

also ur so evil ur letting me unleash my Inspekta thoughts,,,,how cruel how cruel

im going full yapper mode + there's spoilers so Watch Out

I like Inspekta, he's a little freak and a really interesting character to think about. While, for me, the twist with him wasn't totally a surprise (I did Not trust his cuteness the second i saw him lmao), I REALLY liked the way his character progressed throughout the game. He's your buddy! He's your pal! Don't worry about all these posters and weird plushies and standees and propaganda of him everywhere and how he keeps being called “the one and only god”, it's Fine it's Fine! He's sillay :D!!!

I'm generally just obsessed with characters who are put into leadership positions who absolutely Should Not have that amount of power over people, and I think Inspekta's a perfect example of that type of thing for me.

He had his own fears, loneliness, and jealousy cloud his judgment and that resulted in some Really Fucked Up Stuff. As a mortal he wanted to be special in the eyes of the public, so he gained enough popularity to get elected to be a god! Yay! But now he's scared of being forgotten and there's a new possible god being elected, wuh oh! Time to ruin Literally Everything because what's the easiest way to be remembered, worshiped, and loved by all if there's no more competition for your rule? Empty heavens, baby!!! Let's bring in an apocalypse!!! Yay!!!!!

Bro's fucked up and I like that.

I love how despite it all he still tries this whole Cute Buddy Friend act, even at the end with this Worm Form. Cause he KNOWS the other gods would trust and believe him and the lies he's spread about King's shocking letters, cause why wouldn't they? He's just a silly lil cutie pie! They all trust him! He's the God of Leadership! How could a Leader lead others astray? And he knows the Bizzyboys will follow him as well since he's been leading them pre-godhood for several years. He's a role model to them all, starting from nothing and now he's a god! He's just so trustworthy and sweet and will totally save the day!

Also I just wanted to include this somewhere. I really like this section (after Chapter 3, I think???)

He has this brief moment of vulnerability/sincerity/something that made him drop his “Cutesy Voice”. Like aside from this scene, near the end of chapter 5, and i Think a few parts i'm 100% forgetting, I don't think we actually see this more contemplative n genuine side of Inspekta.

He does instantly goes into gloating about himself and how he's Clearly the MOST IMPORTANT GOD OF ALL (before correcting himself to include the other gods, of course, of course).

Like if he didn't have that Ego-the-size-of-the-galaxy + Saddest Scaredest Loneliest Most Jealous Withdrawn Loser combo, all he had to do was to just Talk To People. He could've Talked to people about his Fears and Insecurities. Even the other gods; after all he's done, were still there for him! Like “Hey dude this is fucked up, we all already love you dummy, you can talk to us ya know you're allowed to feel scared!”

He's just the cutest most moe creature with soooo many issues and problems he needed to figure out.

NOW WITH HECTOR

Most of my Inspekta Thoughts can just be applied to him but slightly modified. I think it's interesting how he chose to go back to being a regular person, it makes sense cause he's like Aware of the amount of damage he's done/could've done. While he certainly won't be forgotten after Everything he's done, he isn't going to be as Grand and Powerful as he wished to be.

He's just a guy in his 50s who's trying to get over his God Complex of 33 years and also attempt to gain back the trust and respect of the Grove’s people. He's definitely going to be bearing the weight of what he's done for the rest of his life probably, but it IS interesting thinking about what he'd do to actually improve himself now, learn how to be a person again n such.

He’s also a sad miserable booboo beast of a man and i think him suffering in anguish is awesome!!!!!!! yay!!!!

This turned into more a character analysis of some sorts instead of solely my own personal thoughts, whoops. Anyways i think his designs, all 3 of em are really fun to draw. He's cute n stretchy and marketable, as all gods should be.

so ya basically inspekta/hector sucks, i hate him, and we should kill him with hammers. now. thank you 💖💖💖

[1o1percentmilk]

*picking my nose* i should become a lawyer

[unearthedheart]

yk generally im very nonjudgemental about people with weird or annoying laughs. they usually make me smile because- even if it's grating or too loud and overstimulating- it's a sign that theyre comfortable and confident in themselves and if nothing else happy. but my brother sure does put a fucking wrench in that appreciation with his current laugh

[revelboo]

The speed in which you crank out fics is concerning. Like, I appreciate it WHOLLY, but are you good? R u ok?

Rest is overrated, I run on stress and coffee. Yes, I’m good. I can write short form like this pretty quickly if I’m not at work or busy.

Humans Are Weird/Cute Headcanons

Humans elicit one of two reactions in Cybertronians. It’s not like they haven’t seen organic life before, but the fact that we look vaguely like most Cybertronians in form? Our faces, our body shapes, two legs and two arms just like them? It either creates an unconscious association that we look like tiny, organic Cybertronians or that the similarities are just unsettling. Compounding it is the way we move, the gestures we use that are so eerily like their own. To make it worse, we’re just so helpless compared to them. Fragile. There’s a tendency to react to us like we would a newborn kitten. And for that protectiveness to eventually slide into possessiveness.

TFP Knockout

• Primus. The first time he saw you in full racing leathers, boots, gloves, and that helmet, he just stopped short in surprise. Thinks of the rare times he’d seen minicons and how you look like one instead of just another squishy, little human. And while he’d initially just been invested in figuring out how an inferior, little human beat him in a race, it doesn’t take long for him to start looking forward to those almost nightly meetings. It becomes less about winning and more about the bull session between you two after. Enjoying when you stand up to him, argue with him, even though you must realize he could hurt you so easily if he wanted to.

IDW Bumblebee

• It’s honestly such a pleasant surprise how tactile humans are. You seem to have no sense of personal space and he loves it, because it’s less lonely when you’re near. You don’t mind being picked up and carried, your little frame so warm in his hands or cradled against him. Always so curious, your little hands exploring his servos, while you smile to yourself. Then holding out your own hands so he can carefully manipulate them with a single servo. It’s like a game between you, showing off your little, blunt teeth so he will bare his denta for you as you sit on his thigh.

IDW Bluestreak

• Knows he can be a bit annoying to some bots, but you never seem bothered by his chatter. Actually asking him questions, interacting and it means so much to him when you stretch out against him, laying a cheek on him to listen to the sound of his voice rumbling through you. Liking it when he talks, wanting to be near him. The big surprise, though? How protective you are of him, not even thinking twice about throwing a shoe at Sunny for making a rude comment aimed at him, your little face red as you snarl at the much bigger bot, who’s too shocked at the outburst to respond.

IDW Starscream

• Having so little to call his own, he’s extremely possessive of you. It doesn’t hurt that you’re always happy to see him, greeting him when he returns from patrol, fussing over his injuries like you’re trying to take care of him. No conniving or plotting in you and no ulterior motives for seeking out his company. Aside from leeching body heat, and he hardly minds that, enjoys the feel of you sprawled against him, the peaceful silence.

TFP Soundwave

• Even though he initially took you because of the effect your strange organic thoughts have on him to try and understand why he can’t shut you out, it’s impossible to stay impartial. Every day he tries to inoculate himself against your thoughts, strengthening that connection through touch. And when you start reaching for him in return it’s a surprise. Eventually you sing for him not because he asked you to in an effort to distract you and focus your thoughts on something so they’re less painful to him, but because you want to. Because you think it makes him happy and it does.

ES Megatron

• He’d never paid much attention to humans until he’d met Dorothy, he’d fought alongside her and suddenly humanity wasn’t just something vaguely annoying getting in his way, under ped. It’s harder to not care after getting to know humans. Harder to not be overprotective about you after making it his mission to look after you. And maybe he’s a bit overzealous about it, because you’re not Dorothy. She can stand on her own and take care of herself, but you? You need him.

IDW Optimus

• He’s so used to being bigger than most Autobots. Of being looked up to, but you’re even tinier than they are. Small enough to carry in one hand even though he’s awkward about asking you to let him carry you at first. But after the spark twisting anxiety of watching you walking where bigger Cybertronians are walking? Seeing it not even occur to you that you might get stepped on? He insists on carrying you for your own safety, though, truth be told, he enjoys the feel of you in his servos, that little bemused smile you aim at him.

IDW Thundercracker

• He feels guilty sometimes about taking you, but it’s for the best even if you’re upset now. He’s seen enough movies to know how to coax you, win you over. He became obsessed with human love stories, the drama and romance. And he wants that for himself. Needs it. So he tries different tactics, little gifts and acts meant to convince you to love him. It’s so easy in the movies.

TFP Megatron

• The game you two play has become something of a guilty pleasure of his. Watching you pretend. Pushing you to see how far you’ll allow before you snap at him. Pretending you aren’t scared of him, though he’s seen the fear in your eyes once or twice and while it had amused him at first, he prefers you snarling back at him, all attitude. Your fear twists unpleasantly through him, but that angry defiance? So lovely.

IDW Soundwave

• He never meant to get so attached to you after he’d found you in Starscream’s quarters that day. You’re just so small and you’d looked at him in fear, your wild emotions almost crippling him since he couldn’t shut it out. Even after you calmed, days later, he finds himself reaching out a thought. Finding you and monitoring you from a distance. Again and again until he’d finally had to check on you in person again. After all, what did Starscream really know about caring for anyone, let alone a human. And that hesitant, little smile had warmed him when you’d looked up at him.

IDW Jazz

• The fact that you can see through his lies and will call him out on it? It’s a surprise and a relief. Letting down his defenses, letting you in takes time. He’s worn that smiling, carefree mask for so long. But he slowly lets it fall away when it’s just the two of you, feeling the absence of that weight he’d carried for so long. Getting to know who he is under the facade.

IDW Prowl

• Has to protect you since you don’t seem to understand just how small and delicate you are. Standing up to him and any other bot with zero fear. Something about that reckless anger calls to him. Around the other Autobots, he has to be the one in control, the one with a plan no matter what. Never allowed to falter or hesitate. You spark his own temper, making it easier to drop the act. Be frustrated or angry when it’s just you two. Be real.

Next

[haechani4ever]

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: pet names✧

╰┈➤ how nct dream would react to you calling them by a pet name for the first time

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋpairing ot7 x gn!reader

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋgenre fluff

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋnote hii. srry for not posting (again, im so srry) hope u like this <3

✦➼mark lee

✦- he will be surprised because you have been together for a relatively short time for you to call him by a nickname. he gets a little nervous trying to hide how happy he is about you calling him that way. after a while he will start calling you the same way, always a little shy and waiting for your reaction. he is simply very much in love with you and only wants to see your smile when he calls you that.

✦➼huang renjun

✦- at first it would seem like it didn't affect him, but it's just his way of showing that it doesn't really bother him and that he likes it. you felt a little bad because you thought he didn't like it but he would return the nickname unexpectedly with a light smile on his face. in the end it would become something special between the two of you and it would be your way of calling each other in private.

✦➼lee jeno

✦- he will probably pretend that it didn't affect him at first and just give you a smile. but in reality he is confused because he doesn't know what to do and he becomes very shy, although he doesn't show it. likewise, the sparkle in his eyes and how he stays thinking afterwards totally gives him away.

✦➼lee donghyuck

✦- as soon as he heard you, he started to make fun of you. he would constantly repeat the nickname and then give it back to you by exaggerating it with the most corny and ridiculous pet name he could think of. it was annoying for you. you just kept a serious face while he laughed subtly. he actually loved it when you called him that but he would never miss an opportunity to tease you.

✦➼na jaemin

✦- he will give you the biggest smile when he hears you. he feels lucky that the person he loves calls him in a special way. he will start calling you the same name because he finds it as something to bring you closer and have a better relationship. obviously he also has 1000 other names that he will call you from now on.

✦➼zhong chenle

✦- he'll probably laugh and tease you a little, but not as much as haechan. he'd tell you that he likes it and that you should call him that more often. he'd also give you a nickname and use it casually, in addition to using the one you told him in the first place.

✦➼park jisung

✦- jisung would get so shy. as soon as the sweet nickname comes out of your mouth he would turn red and look away. he's not used to it since you two haven't been together that long but he would love it. it would be hard for him to admit that he likes you calling him nicknames. he would return the nickname in private in the cutest way with the biggest smile in the world. he's just so cutee

[kisakis-boyfriend]

OH SHIT UH baizhu x monster reader because I've been thinking about him lately. maybe something dubcon-y? I love pathetic men whimpering and crying 🎃

Author's Note: My mind went places, y'all… very horny places. ��

Pairings: Baizhu x male reader

Warnings: Male plant monster!reader, dom/top!reader, sub/bottom!Baizhu, sort of gullible Baizhu, dubcon, handjob, facial, riding, aphrodisiac, mild dumbification

Why he had to run out of this particular herb was beyond him. As if that wasn't annoying enough, his suppliers were out of stock and wouldn't be able to ship him any more. The location of this herb has become increasingly dangerous, and no one could figure out why the men sent to gather these herbs came back… weird, to say the least. Nonetheless, Baizhu needed those herbs to treat his patients.

Was it a stupid idea to travel out there by himself and gather them by hand; yes, most certainly, and Changsheng told him as much, but a doctor's mind is a puzzling thing.

And that's how he ended up here; in the high mountains of Chenyu Vale. Normally, one would expect to run into a few monsters, at the very least, but Baizhu had yet to see a single one during his trek. There were plenty of other creatures, and the foliage didn't seem withered, so it's not as if this place was devoid of life nor on a biological decline—there was simply a lack of danger. Which is a strange occurrence, considering the reports he'd read…

That fact really should be comforting to the frail doctor, but in truth, it made a shiver run down his spine. His eyes nervously scanned over the immediate grassy grounds, hoping to catch a glimpse of the herb he so desperately needed — desperate enough to set foot on this mountain alone.

It took a bit more searching, but the herb in question was flourishing just around the back of one particular mountain. Baizhu carefully made his way towards the area, picking one herb and inspecting it to check its quality and that it was, in fact, the correct herb. Picking a few more, Baizhu comes across one plant that refuses to be plucked — an unusually tough herb, resisting his attempts to yank it out from the dirt.

As he goes to inspect the stem, a soft voice cries out; “U-um… excuse me? Could you help me…?” Looking over his shoulder, the doctor spots a person's head sticking up out of the ground—except their skin has a pale green hue to it, and as this person rises up, he notices how the ground around them shifts; as though the ground is a part of them.

Baizhu turns halfway, cautiously keeping an eye on you as he questions, “…What do you need help with?” The way your body flows effortlessly when you move—creating ripples in the immediate area around your torso—piques Baizhu's curiosity.

“O-oh! Um… it's a little embarrassing, if I'm being honest, sir…” you begin, “As you've probably guessed, I am not a human — think of me as a type of dendro spirit, I guess? Uh, anyways, there's this…ritual, of sorts, that only a human can help me with–”

The whole time you're explaining this predicament of yours, Baizhu keeps a watchful eye on you to make sure you're not tricking him. Even though you come across as rather sheepish.

“…I understand if you don't trust me, I just don't know what else to do…humans don't come around here too often, and the pain has become so much worse–”

“I'll help you.” He interjects. The sparkles in your eyes force him to hold back a chuckle as you thank him a million times over. “Please take me to this plant of yours.”

You excitedly take off, essentially a torso and head gliding halfway inside the ground, while this kind human with green hair trails just behind. Arriving at your destination, Baizhu kneels down, giving you a glance, and you return it nervously.

Baizhu eyes the plant inquisitively, staring at the odd shape and strange fleshy texture of the whole thing.

“Go on, doctor, I-I'm ready…” you prompt, giving the man a shy smile to mask your nerves.

With a quick breath to strengthen his resolve, the doctor raises his hands, wrapping them both around the plant and lightly squeezing it until a wet substance seeps out through the petals. “A-ah! aAh-” you gasp suddenly.

“I'm sorry—did that hurt?!”

You shake your head, nearly whimpering as you try to assure him, “N-no… just surprised me. Your hands… they're a bit cold…”

“My apologies, they should warm up soon enough. Shall we keep going?” Said like a true doctor. This stranger with kind eyes has been nothing but gentle with you so far, helping out a non-human creature whom he only met a few minutes ago, even if he finds your request a tad strange.

More wetness falls down his hands, pouring from the plant the more he squeezes and twists his hands around the elongated object. He experimentally moves his hands to other areas, and when Baizhu's thumbs rub and press on the tip of the plant, you're unable to hold back a sharp intake of air. Your eyes roll back momentarily, and you chomp down on your lower lip to conceal the noises threatening to escape.

The doctor eyes your pained expressions with worry written all over his face. “It's… fine — I'm fine. The pain… is not that bad… please, don't stop, doctor.”

As you wish, Baizhu milks more and more liquid from the plant, creating a pool of it underneath the stem of the plant—gradually creeping towards his knees and threatening to soak his pants. For the most part, it feels and looks like regular water, but there's a faint sensation of stickiness on his palms, close to the surface of the plant.

While this is supposed to be a medical procedure, Baizhu can't help feeling a bit… embarrassed by the whole situation. This plant of yours—it is a bit phallic. Not to mention how the method used to wring out the liquid is akin to… uh, a specific hand movement performed on phallic objects. The suggestive sounds coming from your mouth don't help that either. Baizhu can't ignore you when you moan out “Faster… faster, doctor- aah~ Keep stroking it like that… it's definitely woRKING-!”

The more Baizhu watches himself squeeze the glistening liquid from your plant, the deeper into a trance he falls — soon enough he's fallen so deep that he shamelessly jerks off the phallic plant until the tip opens up and explodes like a volcano; shooting thick, honey-like ropes all over Baizhu's pretty face.

The substance drips all down his features — clumping in strands of hair, clinging to his glasses, dripping from his nose and chin, and even a little sliding into his open mouth. “A-ah! Y-you… you did it… you made me release it all, doctor~” you comment — your words are the only thing penetrating that fuzzy mind of his right now. “Thank you soooo much~ But, could I trouble you with one more thing?” you lean forward, gently holding the doctor's chin so that he can't turn away from you. “Won't you help me again? It's the only way for me to feel all better.”

“Aah…? I don't… understand…” Baizhu breathes, confused and seemingly in a daze. It's such a precious sight to behold, really.

You reach out and slide a hand up and down the doctor's stomach, teasingly pushing his top up a few times before moving towards the edge of his pants. “You'll help me, won't you? You're such a kind doctor, after all~” you remind him. Baizhu's pants are quickly yanked down, removed the rest of the way by vines that the good doctor never noticed before…

With his sensitive areas laid bare for you to see, Baizhu gasps, frozen in place as your hands feel up his waist and thighs, pushing the latter apart so that you can inspect his body. Sliding two fingers towards his rear, you find that special hole humans have and tease around the rim of it. “Aha! There it is. I'm sorry to ask so much of you, but… I really need this right now.”

While he has no idea what you mean, the doctor senses something amiss within your words. Your fingers attempt to push inside of him, and Baizhu clumsily refuses. “I-I don't think… don't think that I can do that, young man… mm ooh~”

Impatiently, you lift him up and pull him towards you, hovering his hole right above the plant he'd previously milked. A little burst of liquid shoots from the tip, splashing against Baizhu's entrance, which startles him. The consistency of the liquid feels just like the substance it coated his face in earlier; thick, sticky, and warm.

While Baizhu's mind tries to resist, his body is doing quite the opposite, already lowering itself down until the tip of the plant is entering his ass. “A-AAH! Wait–!” he begs. But it's too little too late as your phallic plant penetrates him with ease, thanks to that honey-like fluid. The fleshy appendage pushes a wave of liquid inside his hole, and it creates a wet mess all over his ass, thighs, and the ground below as you begin to fuck him.

“Mm doctor… you feel incredible~ Hehe, look at that—this little guy is having fun too~” Baizhu blushes deeply, shaking his head while you watch his cock bounce every time your plant cock thrusts in.

“N-no… please, harder–! This is weird… aah~ so good~ ” the doctor grits his teeth, biting his lower lip as he grows frustrated by his own mouth betraying him. The cutest whimpers are the only sounds coming from his mouth as you continue your assault on his hole, thrusting your plant deeper and deeper. The amount of liquid gushing out of Baizhu's ass is ungodly now; sticky, squelchy, slick fluids that overflow with every thrust, filling his tummy until it hurts with how full it is.

“You're doing amazing, doctor! That terrible ache is almost gone, I j-just need to– guh!” you suddenly slam your hips into him, laughing as a pang of pleasure wracks your body and causes you to bury your cock in him. Your hands fly to his waist, and you bounce the human while he whimpers some more.

Tears begin to roll down Baizhu's cheeks, staining his glasses with a salty film as you release another round of that thick substance; this time inside the doctor's body. You pant wildly, mere inches from his face while your plant cock spreads open inside of his hole, releasing far too much liquid inside his belly.

[hannieehaee]

Hiii i love your writing sm that is always look forward to anything you write . Pls remember to take care of yourself .

Imagine chan having a younger s/o , doting on her , taking care of her protecting her 😭😭😭😭 it would be so cute

them having a younger s/o

content: small age gap between reader and member, established relationship, etc.

wc: 1056

a/n: thank u hehe u take care too!! <3 also i wrote this assuming the age gap is nothing too crazy!! just something like 3-5 year difference for hyung line and 2-3 year difference for maknae line c:

masterlist

seungcheol -

he was MADE to dote on and care for a younger s/o. his credit card would literally be your own. his home would be yours. would treat you akin to kkuma in the sense that he'd coo at you incessantly any time he was away from you for more than a few hours and would love dressing you up in cute outfits to match his own (in a low-key, fashionable way, of course). he'd adore a younger s/o because he'd feel like he could really provide for you with both his wealth and wisdom.

jeonghan -

being the one of the elders of the group and having a younger sister, he's literally been trained for a younger s/o. im completely convinced he'd adoooore a younger s/o that he could dote on and baby in every possible instance. he'd use his preschool teacher voice on you all the time and coo at you so much that you'd literally have to beg him to stop. at some point he'd start doing it just to annoy you lmao.

joshua -

tbh i feel like he would be kinda indifferent about you being younger than him, but would still acknowledge it at times. would coo at you and baby you in exaggerated manners to tease you over being younger than him. but! this would just be a veiled way for him to take care of you.

jun -

how is he supposed to baby you when he's the embodiment of baby himself? however, the creator of the aegyo cat set would still manage to coo at you and attack you with constant aegyo to show his affections towards you. all in all, though, i think he would be a lil indifferent about you being younger than him. maybe it'd inspire a little extra protectiveness from him, making him always keep you close to him in public spaces and use his massive shoulders to shield you from crowds or any danger.

soonyoung -

he'd baby you at times but for the most part would be pretty indifferent about being older than you. however! he would let his childish/immature side come out more often while around you, reasoning that you brought out his more youthful side. would probably match your energy at all times. he'd 100% use the 'im older than you' card to try and win arguments/disputes (it wouldnt work).

wonwoo -

absolutely endeared by you!!! have you seen the way he looks at chan? if you were around chan's age, he'd give you the chan treatment but a thousand times over. would cackle at any joke you made, always keep his adoring gaze on you, bring you snacks even when you didnt ask for them, make space for you on his lap whenever he played games or watched movies. you'd be his baby.

jihoon -

he'd try to hold back for a while, but he'd eventually break and feel an instinctive need to take care of you in a way he would a younger member. even if you were a very independent and self-reliant person, he would still take care of you in his own low-key way. would make sure you always had all your meals, make space for you in his studio and provide you entertainment so you could accompany him in there in the long hours of the night. he'd feel a special type of love for you knowing he could dote on you so freely.

seokmin -

he'd be obsessed with you!!!! would baby you constantly and take care of you in every way imaginable. youd also kinda activate his cuteness aggression without him realizing. he'd wanna be the one and only man to protect you and become a rock for you to rely on. would feel happy and proud to be a person you trusted and someone you could look to whenever you needed.

mingyu -

yet another member who would go insane over being older than you and use it as an excuse to baby you at any given opportunity. would treat you like loyalty and would act as if it was a crime if you ever did mundane stuff on your own instead of allowing him to do it for you. walking to the other side of the room? why when he can just piggy back you there!! packing your own lunch in the morning? nope! he's cooking you a whole meal!

minghao -

ive always felt like he'd go for someone younger just for the traditional aspect of it (idk i have no basis for this belief lmao just a hunch). he'd enjoy playing the role of the dependable boyfriend with a younger s/o to provide for and dote on. it'd just bring him a special type of satisfaction to know that you could look to him as a reliable source of comfort. would be the ideal boyfriend and take care of all your expenses and all your emotional needs.

seungkwan -

he'd be so damn overbearing in the way he took care of you im ngl. would keep tabs on your meals to make sure you had all your meals every day, would push vitamins on you, and just have huge concern for your health overall. he'd also feel insane cuteness aggression for you at the most random times, becoming overly affectionate and expressing how cute he thought you were (even if your age gap was teeny tiny).

vernon -

gives me the vibe that he wouldnt really care if you were older or younger. however, seeing the way he dotes on his little sister and gets along with her, i think he'd be similar with a younger s/o. wouldnt really bring up your age difference much but would still use it as the butt of jokes or use it as an excuse to take care of you at times in which he just felt a little extra affectionate towards you.

chan -

as the youngest, he'd love the idea of him being able to baby someone for once (ik he has a younger brother ok). would use the 'im older than you' line to death and be so fucking annoying about it. however, he would also feel satisfied knowing he was a dependable figure in your life who could take care of you in the same ways his members always took care of him.

[keepthedelta]

thinking about the rosberg family and how a kardashian or dts style documentary about them would be amazing.

you have keke rosberg, a hard racing cigar smoking legend of motorsport from one of it's most dangerous eras, whose name literally means pixie rose mountain. the man who basically invented formula one in finland but was hated by his own media for being too cosmopolitan and when they tried to recognise his achievements refused to let them put his face on a postage stamp because he wouldn't make money off of it. studied to be a dentist but missed the entrance exam and became a racing driver instead. got out of having to take german in school by persuading the master that he would never need it but as soon as he met a hot older german woman went so insane over her that he proposed just months after meeting her and agreed to make it their primary language at home. set a record for the fastest lap in f1 history that lasted until 2004, won his first f1 race and then won a world championship before he won his second. known as a crazy racer who would go through you if you didn't let him past. also the softest dad who loves his baby boy more than anything else.

then there's sina, the coolest person in the rosberg family. was so hot and smart and talented that a man willingly sacrificed his cultural identity to be her husband. professional interpreter who knows a bunch of languages and taught them to her polyglot son. married a f1 world champion but hated his driving so much that she drove herself everywhere, even to events that she attended with him. showed up finland's independence day ball in a suit and bow tie against all dress customs. planned to give birth on her own because it's basically the same thing as going to the dentist, and she doesn't need a man for that. has an f1 champion husband and son and still banned f1 talk in her house for nico's entire career. got so nervous watching her baby race that she vacuumed the entire apartment each time. ditched her husband in dubai so that she could make it to the track to see nico become world champion in person. got drunk and talked about keke's sperm on live television.

nico rosberg, the saddest wettest kitten who ever lived. the most beloved baby in the world. cried at everything as a child. cried when he lost at tennis and when he won. uber competitive. incredibly athletic, competing internationally in karting and tennis. total nerd who had no trouble with his schoolwork despite missing school constantly and got accepted into imperial college london to study engineering. at the time the youngest person to ever drive an f1 car. the biggest single cause of sexuality crises in motorsport since 2006. was once sponsored by the german version of mtv. nicknamed after a teen pop sensation. met the love of his life when he was four and hit her over the head with a bucket while they were making sandcastles. had an incredibly difficult incredibly public divorce from a man he was never legally married to. dropped the mic said thank u, next and is so so happy in his retirement. has stripped down to his underwear on television and done a river clean up in designer coats. boy mom to an orange cat, girl dad to human children. loves his daughters more than anything, the kind of man who will leave a 2 million dollar car on a hill to hitchhike, with his videographer, to his daughters's christmas party. can pinpoint the amount of time lost in a corner exactly and needs everyone to know about it. deeply annoying, absolutely hilarious, incredibly kind.

and of course, vivian. ceo of the rosberg family. still planning the long game revenge on nico for hitting her with a bucket when they were children, born in germany, studied design in milan, can party harder than f1 drivers. has done the interior design for private jets, because apparently that's a thing. owner, creator and namesake of the best rated ice cream shop in the balearics. makes her daughters matching outfits for a taylor swift concert and publicly teases her husband for not being a fan. stages elaborate christmas photos with a different colour theme every year. wore a white dress with turquoise louboutins and chanel bag to match nico's race suit in one of the most iconic and yet deeply underappreciated wag moments in f1 history. ruined them with champagne but didn't care. wants her children to be happy. definitely pegs her husband.

most interesting motorsport family of all time. forget dts, i just want to know about them

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

can you write a fic where emily is on her period, annoyed at work, irritated, and really needy but is lowkey embarrassed to ask reader for relief? reader basically then calls her silly and tells em she loves her always and then helps her? and heavy smut takes place

(reader also works at the bau)

thank u!! - and no problem at all if u don’t feel like writing this <3

I got u, anon! ❤️ Hope you enjoy! – illdowhatiwantthanks

Touchy

Emily Prentiss x fem!reader Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, graphic sex, fingering, afab body parts, menstruation, explicit language (let me know if I've missed anything!) Word count: 2.7k

Summary: You and Unit Chief Emily have had a secret thing going on for a while, but when she starts lashing out at you and the rest of the team, you suspect something's wrong. Turns out, it's something you are very capable of fixing. 😏

Emily sat hunched over a book that she clearly wasn’t reading, massaging her temples. She’d been touchy this whole trip. Touchy with the rest of the team, with local law enforcement. Thank god JJ was in charge of dealing with the press, or she would have been touchy with them, too. And now she was touchy on the jet.

Usually on the last night of a case, when the end was in sight or when you were headed home in the morning, or even on a night where she was frustrated that they hadn’t made progress, Emily would come to your room. She’d knock softly, in the dead of the night, slip into your room, into your bed, into your very body. And she’d be gone before your alarm went off in the morning.

You’d waited and waited last night for Emily to come to you, watching the minutes go by, then hours. You knew you hadn’t made any plans, nothing concrete. There was never anything concrete when the BAU was out on a case. But, nevertheless, you missed her. You missed the warmth of her body next to you, the way you’d talk and laugh about nothing while she sat in bed, naked, and smoked a cigarette after she’d thoroughly fucked your brains out. You missed the way she’d vent to you about the case or tell you something personal, something she wouldn’t tell anyone else, as you fell asleep together, tangled in some random hotel’s sheets.

You’d been seeing each other for months now and, outside of work, had some semblance of a typical relationship. But at work, you were just an agent and her unit chief. Friendly colleagues, at most. You and Emily were always careful to appear impartial. And you were profilers, so you were pretty good at avoiding tells that your relationship was more than it seemed on the outside. But you were worried about her today. She was angry and irritated and… not herself. You were trying to figure out a way to ask her what was wrong, but you couldn’t figure out how to move seats to be near her without arousing suspicion. Not to mention the fact that Emily would never tell another member of the team that something personal was going on. So she couldn’t tell you. Not here, not on the jet.

You tried not to look too interested when Reid sat down across from Emily, playing with the string on his sachet of green tea. “Are you okay, Emily?”

She made a noncommittal sound of affirmation, then muttered. “Just a headache.”

“You know,” he started, and you could just tell he was prepped for an educational monologue. “Headaches are simultaneously one of the easiest and one of the hardest medical maladies to solve, depending on their cause. There are over 50 reasons why one might have a headache, usually categorized into two overarching categories: primary and second–”

“Reid,” Emily snapped. “I am begging you to shut up unless you want to become one of the 50 causes of a headache.”

Reid shrank into himself, and you immediately felt sorry for him. Sure, he could come off as a know-it-all or annoying, but he was goodhearted and kind and smart and cared about the team. It wasn’t like Emily to belittle him.

When you’d all debarked from the plane and made your way to the parking lot, you waited for the other cars to peel out before approaching Emily’s. You tapped on her window and she rolled it down for you.

“What?” she growled.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” you asked, voice full of concern. “You seem off.”

“I’m fine,” she stated. “God, I wish people would just fucking leave me alone today. And stop asking all these questions.”

You were taken aback, hurt. You weren’t “people.” You were, for all intents and purposes, her girlfriend, everywhere but at work.

“Well, um…” you stuttered, unsure how to proceed or respond. “Do you still want to come over tonight?” She almost always did the night after getting back from a case.

“Y/N,” she groaned, massaging her forehead. “No offense, babe, but what part of ‘I wish people would fucking leave me alone’ did you not get?”

You felt like crying, but you’d be damned if you were going to let Emily see it. “Whatever, Em.” You shook your head. “I’ll see you on Monday.”

You watched Emily zoom out of the parking lot and, once she was gone, you let yourself cry. At least it wasn’t just you she was upset with; clearly she had it out for everyone right now. But still… Emily was usually different with you. She was softer around the edges, kind and thoughtful, a little bit silly. This wasn’t like her at all.

The more you thought about it, the angrier you got. How fucking dare she blow you off like you were no one!? She’d been rude and dismissive and snappy and weird with everyone this whole trip and, dammit, she was not going to get away with being like that to you, too. Either something was wrong with her or something was wrong with the rest of you that had pissed her off. Either way, you were determined to figure it out. So when you sped out of the parking lot, teary and determined, you headed not to your apartment, but to Emily’s.

You knocked angrily on Emily’s door until she threw it open, looking as pissed as you’d ever seen her. “Y/N,” she said, frustration evident. “I told you I didn’t want to see you.”

“Yeah, well,” you said, pushing past her and into the apartment. “Sometimes you don’t get what you want.”

You poured yourself a glass from the open bottle of wine she had on the counter and took a sip. Emily stood across from you, still massaging her temples and looking generally annoyed.

“What, Y/N?” she groaned. “What do you want?”

You set your glass down so aggressively the wine sloshed a bit. “What the fuck is wrong with you, Emily!?” you railed. “You’re being so mean and so… not yourself. Is something going on!?”

She sighed heavily and lowered herself into a chair and, for a moment, you thought she might cry. You surged toward her and tucked her hair behind her ear, holding her face, softly, delicately, in case, as she had all day, she decided to pull away again.

“Honey, what’s wrong?” you said softly, your thumbs lightly tracing the circles under her eyes.

Emily leaned into your touch and you knew she was finally there, finally at a point where she’d stop fighting and let you in.

“I’ve got fucking fibroids…” she mumbled, avoiding your eyes. “And I’m on my period and… they’re always bad, but they just make it so much worse.”

“Em,” you sighed, letting her rest her head on your chest. “Why didn’t you just say that?”

“It’s embarrassing…”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “Periods aren’t embarrassing, honey. They’re just a part of life. A shitty part.”

When she didn’t answer and kept her head buried in your chest, you started playing with her hair. “What do you need, huh? What’ll make you feel better? Do you have pain meds? You want to take a bath? Lie down for a bit?”

Emily pulled back and looked away, shrinking into herself.

“Hey, don’t start that again,” you scolded, taking her hand.

“Babe, just tell me. What do you need, hmm?”

She mumbled something under her breath, so quiet that you couldn’t catch it.

“What?”

“I need you to touch me,” she whispered, blushing furiously. “But that’s not fair of me to ask.”

You smiled, relieved. This is what Emily had been so frustrated about!? You chuckled and leaned forward to kiss her head, her cheek, then sunk your lips into hers. You felt elated by the way she grasped your shirt, the way she pulled into you.

When you broke apart, she was breathless, her pupils blown, but she still looked so deeply embarrassed, almost ashamed.

“Come on,” you said gently, leading her by the hand toward the bathroom. “And to think this whole time you were just really fucking horny.”

You turned on the shower, made sure it was the right temperature, and started stripping your clothes off.

“Wait, wait, what are you doing?!” Emily asked, leaning against the bathroom counter.

You stared at her. “What do you mean what am I doing?”

She gestured at your now nude body, as you folded your clothes into a messy pile.

“I’m getting in the shower,” you explained. “And you’re getting in the shower, and then I’m gonna make you come.”

If possible, Emily’s face reddened even more. “Uh… no,” she protested. “No, no. Did you miss the part where I said I was on my period?”

You gestured toward the steaming shower. “Did you miss the part where we’re in the shower so it doesn’t matter?”

“It does matter,” she argued. “I don’t– I’ve never… It’ll be messy, Y/N. I don’t want you to have to–”

You stared at her, mouth slightly agape. “You’ve never had sex on your period?”

She looked at the ground. “I… I mean, I guess I’ve never been with someone who… wanted to.”

Your heart broke then, just for a moment. For sweet, needy, embarrassed Emily, hugging herself in the corner of the bathroom.

“Well,” you said, approaching her and slipping your hands under her shirt. She gasped as you bent to suck on her neck. “That’s their loss.” You lifted her shirt over her head and unclasped her bra, quickly taking one of her nipples in your mouth. She moaned and sank her fingers into your hair. “I can assure you that I…” And you planted a kiss on her chest. “Very much…” You gently unzipped her pants and placed a kiss there, just below her stomach. “Want to.”

Emily pulled you back up and kissed you hungrily, desperately, as she kicked off the rest of her clothes, pushing you into the shower so she could discreetly remove her tampon. You pressed her up against the cool tile, letting the warm water rush over you both. It’s not that you were normally rough with Emily or vice versa, but you were careful to be particularly gentle with her tonight, knowing that her body was sensitive and in pain.

You kissed Emily slowly, deeply, making your way down her neck, across her chest, tracing slow, indulgent circles around her nipples as she let her head rest back against the tile. You could feel her heart beating underneath your tongue and it drove you wild.

When you crouched to move lower, holding yourself steady against her thighs, she pulled you back up, eyes pleading with you. “Just your hands. Please.”

You brushed a wet strand of hair off her forehead. “Are you sure?” You smirked. “I really don’t mind getting messy.”

“I know,” she replied, still breathing heavily as your thumbs drew circles against her hips. “But I mind.”

“Whatever you want, honey,” you breathed into her ear as you ran your fingers through her warm folds.

Emily shuddered and pressed her head into your shoulder, bucking involuntarily into your hand. You let your thumb idle around her clit, slow and rhythmic and gentle, until you had her panting and whining against you.

“More,” she begged, and you happily obliged, softly pressing two fingers into her pulsing entrance. You picked up speed as she pressed into you, her breath high and hitched, with small noises of effort and pleasure echoing around the shower.

“Wait, stop,” she gasped, even as she thrust into you. You stilled your movements, and waited for her to tell you what she wanted. “I feel like I might collapse,” she gasped.

“In a good way or a bad way?” you asked, both of you giggling.

“A good way, but…”

“Here,” you said, moving her arms so they were wrapped around your neck and inching forward so that your thigh was between her legs. You wrapped your free hand around her waist and planted a kiss on her neck. “I’ve got you, okay? I’m not gonna let you fall. Just let go, baby.”

Emily didn’t need any more encouragement, riding your fingers as if her very life depended on it. And when she finally reached her peak, when she finally let herself fall apart, nothing in the world could have made you let go of her. You held her up as she shook, her walls pulsing around your fingers, her mouth wide and warm against your shoulder.

“There you go,” you whispered, bringing her back down and planting fluttery kisses wherever you could reach as you held her steady. She shook against you, holding onto you, and when she finally found her way back to her feet, you kissed her again and again, all over.

“Feel better?” you asked her, cupping her face in your hands. She nodded and wrapped her arms around your neck in an embrace and, for a while, you just held her there, hot water pouring over you, heartbeats dwindling back to a normal rate.

“Thank you,” she said, her voice vibrating against your skin. She stood and looked at you apologetically. “Sorry I was such a bitch.”

You shook your head and kissed her again. “It’s okay. Everyone’s a bitch on their period.”

Your heart was in your throat as Emily let you wash her, let you lather shampoo into her hair and rub soap gently across her body, making sure she was clean and cared for. She was so soft under your touch, so soft and pliable, such a contrast to how she was at work with everyone else. She always acted so tough. And she was tough, but she could also be so soft. You loved that she was soft for you.

You dried her off, you kissed her shoulder, you told her to go ahead and get in bed, that’d you’d be right there. And when you returned and found her in bed with wet hair in an oversized t-shirt, you were struck by the realization that you never really wanted to go to bed with anyone else. That what you’d really like is to be in bed with Emily every night. Not just random nights on the road. Not just after the dates you spent at places you chose because it didn’t seem like any other member of your team would be there. You loved her. You were falling in love with her.

You handed her the glass of water you’d prepared in the kitchen, and thought about how not to accidentally tell her you loved her. She sipped gingerly at the edge of the bed and looked deeply at you.

“What?” you asked, shrinking under her gaze.

“Do you want to stay here?” she asked.

“Duh,” you replied, already climbing into bed next to her. “I always spend the night after. And we don’t have work tomorrow.”

“No, I mean…” She picked at her fingernails, avoiding your eyes. “Do you want to stay here… for good. Like, would you want to move in?”

You felt like the breath had been knocked out of you. “Are you serious?” you asked, gaping at her.

Emily shook her head. “Forget it. Sorry. It was a stupid question.”

“No, no!” You grabbed her hand and held it between both of hers. “I just… I didn’t know what this was for you. If you wanted to… keep it casual, I guess.”

She sighed and looked into your eyes and you knew then, you knew that whenever it slipped out, whenever you were ready to say it, she would say it back. “I haven’t been casual about you for a while now, Y/N.”

And you kissed her. You kissed her again and again, kissed her until she was giggling and squirming, until you had her wrapped in your arms under the covers.

And when she reached to turn the light out, when she curled into your body, you let your words venture out in the darkness, soft and quiet, almost imperceptible: “I love you.”

And like a light, her voice, vibrating against your skin as she fell asleep in your arms: “I love you, too.”

[neoraso]

bf things with riize

shotaro:

is always your biggest cheerleader. listens to all your concerns and comforts you in the best way he can

loves meeting your friends and having you be close with his

is so excited to get to know you and learn everything he can about you - don't mind him he's just collecting data so he can love you even more ;>

is very much in it for the long haul with you- like he wouldn't be with you if he couldn't really see a future with you. he's pretty young and wouldn't really want to settle down until the future but he's planning on being with you as long as he can-often tells you this

wants to be the most positive, safe and uplifting person in your life. expect a lot of big hugs with back rubs, high fives where he intertwines your fingers ♡

eunseok:

he's pretty masculine but also very nonchalant about it. your man. takes care of things for you wordlessly, tucks you in, carries your bags etc.

pretends to be cocky/annoyed by your clinginess but literally becomes a "where's my hug at?" guy when he walks in the door. like if u don't at least give him a kiss hello he's like wth,,, is everything ok with my baby

will pretty much go along with whatever you want.. like if you want to watch a disney movie he'll be like i'm completely indifferent on what we watch but as long as it makes u happy

peels fruit for you and feeds it to you because he likes watching you eat.

so attentive. makes sure you're taking your medicine/vitamins, that you're sleeping well and making it to all your appointments, fulfilling all your responsibilities.

sungchan:

prefers to stay at your house over everything,, u gave him a key and he abuses the privilege- like you come home from work/school and he's just in ur bed .. sometimes even asleep and ur like ok sure??

idk how to explain ,, he's like that typical older guy like brother's best friend vibes just always playful, flirty, teasing but all out of love.

ur just his which he reminds you of daily .. "how's my baby," "my favorite girl doing ok?" "you know you're my angel right?"

loves to attack you with love. pushes you on the bed so he can lay all his weight on you (WILL fall asleep like this if you're not careful), tugs on your hair to get you to look at him , pokes or tickles you if he thinks you're not paying enough attention to him

in that vein, very protective of you. if someone is bothering you or just making life difficult he is ready and willing to throw hands. you can tell bc his jaw clenches and his nose flares just a bit until ur like,,sungchan it's really fine just annoying,,, and he's like mmhm sure (still rubs your arm and back to calm himself down..)

wonbin:

holds your hand as long as he can wherever yall go. like if he's saying goodbye :< waits until the door is about to smash his hand to let go of yours

once you get to the stage where he trusts you to share his worries with ..,,, u are locked in like u are 4lifers

teases his friends a lot but is literally putty in your hands like he will do anything for you and would never want you to question his affection for you

best listener . full eye contact (even if it makes you blush) usually playing with your fingers too. brings up things you've mentioned before and ur like,, how do you even remember this I don't even remember this

lowk needs reassurance and his heart gets so warm when you sincerely tell him how you feel and how much you love and appreciate him

seunghan:

finds anything remotely heart-shaped and points it out to you or texts you a picture.

you are literally his baby.,,, even if you're older, you are his baby. adores you, dotes on you, spoils you, feeds you, etc.

so affirming and validating whenever you rant to him. pets your hair and pouts "really baby? that sounds so frustrating but you're doing so well handling it. i'm here if you need me to fight someone :>" (has never fought anyone in his life)

hypeman hypeman hypeman. encourages you in everything you do and will show his support in forms of kisses, sweet words and texts

unlike sungchan he wont be so ,,... intrusive when he can't see you often but he does video call you as much as he can because he NEEDS to check on his lovely lover sweetie pie angel

sohee:

thinks all your quirks are so endearing and makes him fall even deeper for you

wants to learn your native language so bad so he can be closer to you and meet you halfway in communication

sooooo appreciates how you listen to him and his day, his worries, his dreams. wants to be there for you just as much ♡

i think he'd like to leave you little gifts even if it's like a post it note with a candy and a little encouraging message, or something bigger like shoes or a jacket or jewelry you've been eyeing

though he has so much energy, he also loves recharging at home with you, just snuggling and sharing little kisses and snacks.

anton:

appreciates how you never push him out of his comfort zone, grabs your hand as a silent ask for support.

loves to have fun with you ,, going out with you, watching and making silly tiktoks even just laying around and chilling with you makes him so happiiii

will hug you or backhug you and for some reason gets shy and shocked when you kiss him bc he's so cute

yall definitely started as besties ,, so you're already pretty close as a couple except now you get to kiss and stuff which he thinks is pretty great.

has 282922892 pics of you in his phone, printed , polaroids. he’s too shy to hang them up but he keeps one in his wallet and in his phone case to feel like you’re with him all the time :>

[astrow1zar6]

Astro Notes- 21

Aqua Venus’s love style is NOT distant & aloof. If they are distant with you or u don’t know where u stand with them 9 times out of 10 they are very uninterested. When they find that one weirdo (cuz they love unconventionals) they are so romantic and clingy. When they find their person its usually their best friend & they do everything together. I think people assume their love nature is distance because that’s how they treat most people but once they find that person it’s nothing like that at all. They’re just really specific & will ice out anything they don’t vibe with. They are really flirty when they have a crush.

Gemini mars are normally amazing with their hands , if uk what I mean 👀😏

Venus in Libras are really amazing party planners. They are really artistically talented when it comes to decorating & hosting social events. They know how to make their environment aesthetically pleasing & make others comfortable in the process.

Sagittarius risings have really loud laughs. They’re those people that when someone says a joke their laugh is usually funnier than the joke 😂

Cancer risings are always victimizing themselves. If underdeveloped this can be one of the most manipulative cancer placements.

Cancers and Taurus always end up together.

Moon in Scorpios can like attention just as much (if not more) than Leo’s. This may sound really shocking given how reserved this sign usually is. But I notice these people really shine in the spotlight. Most really big celebrities have their Moon in Scorpio.

Venus in Taurus love when people put a lot of thought in when buying/making them gifts. They value sentimental things that you can’t just buy anywhere like a knitted blanket, or art you made, pottery, jewelry etc. they like to know you really pay attention to their interests compared to just getting something name branded or a gift card.

Libra risings are always talking about their exes (they normally have a lot of them) they will always randomly bring them up in convos saying how certain things remind them of their exes. It can get a little annoying sometimes 😂

Aries Venus’s tend to not mind being single for long periods of time. I’ve seen this placement never marry or wait really late to finally decide. They are very independent by nature and it’s usually difficult to keep their attention for the long term. Their flame burns bright in the beginning just for it to burn out just as fast. They need a partner who will keep them on their toes constantly. This can be challenging however because they despise things that become to “stable” & “dull” which is why many just stay single. I also notice the women enjoy flirting & talking to men who are taken or married? I have no idea why but I always see women with this placement in that kinda predicament at-least once in their life. Their need for excitement I believe causes them to go for men that are taken for a sorta “challenge”. (This usually never ends well or how they wanted however).

Neptune in the 10th house people can be confused on what career path to take or can have very delusional unrealistic expectations for their careers. (Ex: wanting to be a famous NFL quarterback but never really practices for it). HOWEVER once they do finally decide on a path people can completely idolize these people to an almost worshipping degree. (I believe Jesus Christ has his Neptune in the 10th house). They can be amazing religious/spiritual leaders as well.

A lot of cult leaders have Pluto in the 11th house. These people can also have a very worshipping fan group if they get big in whatever they’re into but their followers have a darker more intense vibe than Neptune in the 10ths. People can easily be obsessed with these people and will do a lot of irrational things to please them. They can persuade people to do anything.

Lilith conjunct ascendant in synastry can be very scary sometimes. The Lilith person will do anything for the ascendant person even if it could ruin their life. Lilith becomes almost hypnotized by the ascendant person. Gypsy rose Blanchard and her bf at the time Nick had this aspect. Nicks Lilith was conjunct her ascendant & she was able to convince him to murder her mother.

[foreveia]

c(alc)ulus ⤨ tsukishima kei

⨭ genre; hard 2 explain but there's a happy ending so u shld read (jk its a college!au, frat boy!au)

⨭ pairing; tsukishima kei x f!reader

⨭ word count; 9.7k

⨭ descriptions; you're the last person kei wants anything to do with, but not even he can deny it: he, and the entire frat, needs you.

⨭ warnings; frat boy levels of alcoholism, explicit language

⨭ a/n; i love math but love blondes more. i also love rly long fanfics with plot and pretty language and feelings, so hope y'all enjoy this super long mess of a frat!universe haikyuu with college-core drinking habits, calculus talk, and a whole lot of simping for kei <3

one.

Kageyama is failing calculus.

This statement wouldn’t necessarily be a big deal—after all, he had barely passed most of his classes his whole life, getting into college solely with his athletic skills and having zero intentions to stay in academia in the future. He’s in university primarily just to have something to fall back on, and he has made it exceptionally obvious that he does the bare minimum to get his degree by sleeping through his lectures and procrastinating his homework to the night it’s due. He doesn’t, and has never, cared much about school, and has somehow made it through life anyway, so really, in most circumstances, Kageyama failing a class wouldn’t be a big deal at all. 

However, in this circumstance, Kageyama is also a brother of Kappa Alpha Rho, and therefore his grades reflect not just him but the brotherhood, meaning him failing a class has fully become Tsukishima’s problem, making this, in fact, a very, very big deal. He thinks he’s screwed.

And it’s completely your fault.

Tsukishima glares at the email notification sitting at the top of the screen, clenching his jaw so hard that he feels his back molars ache. 

ASU Policy Update: New Funding Requirements for Student Organizations

He’s already read it twice, but he clicks on it again anyway, as if the words would magically change now that it’s his third try. His fingers drum against the desk, anxious and annoyed all at once.

Effective immediately, all university-funded student organizations must maintain a collective GPA of C+ (2.3) or higher to remain eligible for financial support from ASU. Organizations failing to meet this requirement will be placed on academic probation for a select amount of time, after which, if under the minimum, will be denied funding for the academic year. 

He exhales sharply through his nose and shuts his laptop a little harder than necessary. His knee bounces under the desk as he stares at the wall, running the numbers through his head. A D- average to a C+? That’s not a small jump. That’s a fucking leap.

And it’s because of you. But then again, of course it is.

Tsukishima doesn’t even know you personally, but he knows of you. Everyone at Furudate University knows of you. It’s honestly impossible not to.

Your name gets thrown around like a fucking urban legend: the math department’s golden girl, every professors’ favorite. The kind of student whose name gets printed in bold on the Dean’s List every semester, top of the class in every single way, looking down at everyone else from your haughty position up there.

You’re the poster child for academic excellence, and this is exactly the kind of sanctimonious, holier-than-thou rule someone like you would pass.

He can practically see you in his head, sitting in some committee meeting, smug as you argue for “higher academic standards,” completely unaware of the absolute nightmare you’ve just created. 

He rubs his temple. He doesn’t have time for this. If Kappa Alpha Rho loses funding, they lose access to the house stipend, the event budget, the formal venue deposit—

“Fuck,” he hisses under his breath, already clicking through the chapter’s internal roster. He zeroes in on the worst grades. Not surprisingly (albeit disappointing nonetheless), Kageyama’s name jumps out immediately.

He has a 37 in Multivariable Calculus.

Tsukishima closes his eyes and counts to five. It doesn’t help. His laptop screen just glares back at him, the double-digits in bright red. He’s dragging the entire GPA down, significantly so. 

So if Kageyama fails, they’re all fucked. 

Tsukishima opens the frat group chat.

(11:42 AM) tsukishima: who here actually passed multi calc

It takes all of five whole seconds before the chat explodes.

hinata: LOL NOT ME yamaguchi: barely but yea? noya: i didn’t even know multi was real lmao

Tsukishima pinches the bridge of his nose. They’re useless. They’re all fucking useless.

(11:43 AM) yamaguchi: wait is this about the gpa thing? are we actually losing funding? tsukishima: we will if kageyama fails calc hinata: bro just make him pass it then tsukishima: do you think i control his brain (11:44 AM) tanaka: wait hold on. are you saying if we fail we’re actually broke?? yamaguchi: tsukki wouldn’t joke about this lol hinata: WHAT DO U MEAN BROKE. LIKE. BROKE BROKE?? noya: LIKE WE GOTTA PAY FOR KEGS OUTTA POCKET BROKE???

Tsukishima watches the messages roll in, each response growing increasingly more unhinged. He feels his blood pressure rising, ticking up with every single one.

(11:45 AM) tanaka: WE CAN’T LOSE FUNDING FORMAL IS IN 3 MONTHS hinata: NOOOO NOT FORMAL noya: NOOOOOOOOOO NOT FORMAL tanaka: WHO THE FUCK IS GONNA PAY FOR FORMAL

Tsukishima sighs, dragging a hand down his face. This is exactly what he didn’t want. The second these idiots realized the frat’s funding was actually on the line, everything was going to implode. Where’s the rest of the exec board right now? He misses them.

(11:46 AM) yamaguchi: okay but seriously what’s the plan tsukishima: kageyama needs to pass calc obviously tanaka: okay but like. how

Good fucking question.

Tsukishima leans back in his chair, thinking. Kageyama isn’t stupid—not in the traditional sense, anyway. He just doesn’t give a shit. If he had a decent tutor, someone to force the information into his thick skull, he might actually stand a chance.

(11:47 AM) tsukishima: does anyone know a decent tutor (11:48 AM) yamaguchi: y/n

Tsukishima physically recoils.

(11:48 AM) tsukishima: like… vpaa y/n??? yamaguchi: yeah?? she’s the best tutor in the math department hinata: wait isn’t she the one that profs never shut up about lol tanaka: bro we’d be paying for a 5-star tutor with beer money noya: u think she’d go for it tho?? hinata: tsukishima just bat your pretty little eyelashes and get her to help us 🤩 tsukishima: i will block you

There is no way in hell he is asking you for help. Absolutely not. Because if there’s anyone on this entire campus that would not hesitate to let Kappa Alpha Rho crash and burn, it’s you.

But then, Daichi—super convenient timing for the president to come in right now—sends the real kicker.

(11:49 AM) daichi: Text Y/N. Now.

Tsukishima grinds his teeth. His fingers hover over the keyboard. For a very, very long moment, he just stares blankly at the screen, until finally, he types.

(11:50 AM) tsukishima: someone send me her number.

And Tsukishima thinks, for not the last time, that he’s absolutely screwed.

two.

For someone who’s actively ruining his life, you’re surprisingly… okay.

At least, you were over text. You responded within minutes, and—without sarcasm, without question, without any needed negotiation—agreed to a tutoring session the next day. 

Tsukishima thinks he should be wary of this. Surely you have some ulterior motive, something that’s meant to prove to him (and yourself) just how much smarter you are than everyone else. 

Ah, yes. That’s probably it. You’re going to use the dumb frathlete to make yourself feel good.

After some contemplation, Tsukishima decides that he should be there. As idiotic and annoying as Kageyama can be, he’s still his brother, and Tsukishima isn’t about to let some pretentious academic just mock and insult him; Kageyama is shitty with words, so the least Tsukishima can do is be there to snap back for him. 

Tsukishima is almost certain that you’re doing this solely to stroke your ego. After all, why else would someone like you agree?

That being said, twenty four hours later, sitting across from you at a library table, he’s forced to admit—begrudgingly—that you’re actually not… terrible.

Tsukishima watches you carefully, arms crossed over his chest, waiting for the moment you slip up—some trace of superiority, some indication that you think this is beneath you. But to his surprise, you don’t smirk, you don’t sigh in frustration, you don’t roll your eyes every time Kageyama gets something wrong.

You’re just… patient. Shockingly, infuriatingly patient.

“Okay,” you say, tapping the corner of Kageyama’s notebook with your pen. “Walk me through your thought process. How did you get to this step?”

Kageyama stares at his paper, scowling. “I don’t know.”

“Well, you got this part right,” you say, circling something in the equation. “So let’s build from here.”

Kageyama frowns deeper, pressing his pencil so hard that the lead tears a little hole—Tsukishima expects you to finally snap, to lecture him for not paying attention, but instead, you just tilt your head and try again.

“I think you’re having trouble with double integrals, so let’s break those down first, okay?” you say, not at all unkindly, before flipping open your notes and locating the respective chapter in the textbook. Tsukishima notices, with mild surprise, that you don’t even have to check the table of contents—you go straight to the right page.

And then, even stranger: your own notes are written beside the original text. Your annotations are precise but casual, breaking down the wordy explanations into clear, digestible pieces; your diagrams take up the margins, and where there’s extra blank space, you’ve doodled functions, arrows, sometimes little stick figures interacting with equations.

Tsukishima shouldn’t care. He doesn’t.

But something about it—about how thoroughly you understand this shit—sticks with him.

And as you start explaining, Tsukishima quickly comes to understand why they call you the best in the department. 

Your voice is even, steady, and you don’t just read from the textbook—you reframe the concepts completely, breaking them down into comparisons, real-world applications, diagrams that actually make sense. It’s the kind of familiarity that takes years of experience and countless hours of practice, and you obviously have gotten to an incredible degree of expertise. And most importantly, when Kageyama hits a block or stumbles over the formulas, you don’t get irritated.

You just adjust.

Again. And again. And again.

Until finally, something clicks.

Tsukishima watches, arms crossed, as you do something no professor, no TA, and certainly no frat brother has managed before: you make Kageyama think. You make him care. Kageyama straightens slightly in his seat, gripping his pencil a little tighter; he scribbles something down, then nods to himself, like he actually understands. 

Tsukishima leans back, exhaling through his nose. 

He hates to admit it, but Yamaguchi was right: you really do know your shit. 

three.

An hour passes like this. Slowly, but gradually, Kageyama works through his problem set, stopping every so often to ask questions. You answer every single one without hesitation, without even having to double check, with the complete confidence of someone who simply knows that they’re right. 

Then, completely unprompted, you ask, “So, do you play volleyball?”

Kageyama pauses mid-writing. The question catches him off-guard—catches both of them off-guard, actually.

Tsukishima gives you a sharp look, but you just smile, amused.

“You retained information best when I used sports analogies to explain,” you continue, tapping the end of your pen against the table. “And when I used a volleyball as an example for triple integral applications, you corrected me on the radius in like, two seconds.”

Kageyama blinks. Then, looking somewhat sheepish, he mumbles, “Wow, that’s crazy. I’m on the university team.”

“That’s cool,” you say simply, clicking your pen. You doodle absentmindedly on an extra sheet of paper, this time drawing a little volleyball in the corner. “Our executive VP is on the team too. Sakusa.”

Kageyama hums an affirmation. “Yeah, we’re both starters.”

“As a sophomore? That’s really impressive,” you say. Tsukishima thinks that you’re pretty impressive too, considering you’re a sophomore just like them, but you don’t seem to be even thinking about that. “Why are you taking calculus, then? What’s your major?”

“Physics and kinesiology.”

“I didn’t peg you as a STEM guy,” you muse, still sketching in the margins. You’ve now switched to drawing a little banana.

Tsukishima, despite himself, huffs a quiet laugh.

Kageyama flushes slightly. “I, um, want to go pro after college,” he admits, ears bright crimson as he speaks. “So kinesiology felt right for an athlete. And for physics, well, I’m a setter, so I want to, um… I want to be able to calculate the velocity of the balls I send with more accuracy.”

It’s a ridiculous reason. Maybe even a stupid one. Definitely the stupidest reason Tsukishima’s ever heard for taking an incredibly intense and complex major like physics.

But you don’t laugh.

You just nod, smiling to yourself. “Thanks for letting me help you with your process, then.”

There’s a moment of silence, before Tsukishima bluntly remarks, “You’re weird.” 

It comes off slightly ruder than intended, and you pause, your pen coming to a halt on the paper. He adds, quieter than before, “I mean, you notice things like that?”

Your nose and forehead scrunch up in slight confusion, expression so befuddled as if he were simply asking you if the sky was blue. 

“Well, yeah.” You say this as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. “Everyone is different, with different interests and learning styles, and things get easier to understand when you break things down on their terms as opposed to yours. So of course I’ll pick up on things like that. I try to be observant of all the people around me.”

When your eyes meet his, he instinctively is on edge. Your tone is still light, but there’s something pragmatic about your eyes that makes him feel apprehensive, like he’s standing at the edge of a 50-foot fall and you’re watching to see if he’ll take the jump. It’s like you’re taking all of him in, like you’re taking everyone in. Like you see things other people don’t. 

If Tsukishima is being honest with himself, this perceptiveness is something he lacks. He willingly disregards much of the people and the things around him; it's a defense mechanism he has perfected over the years. It’s easier to stay detached. It’s easier to keep to himself; it’s easier to be indifferent. 

To be blunt, your astuteness unnerves him, and it’s a sensation he’s not used to grappling with. There’s a raw honesty in your gaze that feels almost invasive, peeling back the layers of his carefully constructed facade. You two had just met, but for a brief moment, he wonders if you can somehow see through him because despite your cheerful and carefree attitude, you are looking to understand people in a way he never has.

He quickly looks away, breaking the intense eye contact. “I guess that’s one way to look at it,” he mutters.

You don’t reply because your attention has already shifted back to Kageyama, with you leaning over his notebook and exclaiming, “See, you got this!” 

Kageyama has solved the several problems you gave him, his work still amateur but complete. You scan his notebook, pointing out the few areas where he could simplify his work, but the overwhelming beam on your face is nothing short of proud, and it incites a completely new determination in Kageyama. Despite his usual stoicism, your encouragement has visibly boosted his confidence and Tsukishima watches as the boy smiles and nods along when you flip the textbook to a new chapter, declaring loudly, “Okay! Let’s move onto vectors!” 

As you continue to explain, Tsukishima watches the two of you with a slight mixture of exasperation and something else he can’t quite put a name to. You are honest and true and it’s wholly unfamiliar, tiring in a way where he is overwhelmed. He’s not quite sure how to describe how he feels right now, sitting here with you together: maybe it’s a touch of admiration for you, maybe it’s just relief that someone else is dealing with Kageyama’s math woes for a change, but either way, at the end of it all, he finds himself settling back into his chair, a small, almost imperceptible amusement playing at the corners of his mouth. 

Minutes turn into hours, and before you know it, the sun is dipping lower and lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the library floors. By the time the library's closing announcement echoes through the halls, you have made it through half the vector fields unit and Kageyama has filled several pages of his notebook with neatly written solutions. 

“Well, let’s finish up. I think we’ve made some good progress today,” you decide, stretching your arms above your head. You begin to gather your things—if you’re not all out soon, the librarians will come and yell at you for sure.

“Thank you so much, Y/N,” Kageyama says earnestly, closing his notebook. “I think I’m starting to get it.”

“You are. Just keep practicing those problems, okay? You’ll pass this week’s quiz for sure if you keep at it,” you say cheerily. “Just text if you ever need any help. I’m always around.”

Your enthusiasm seems genuine, like you really do want to help Kageyama succeed. Tsukishima’s not sure what to do with this information.

He should be suspicious. Should assume there’s something in it for you—some academic accolade, some resumé boost, some smug satisfaction in proving you’re better than everyone else. But you don’t gloat. You don’t even act like this is a favor Kageyama—or, by extension, the frat—owes you for the rest of time. 

You just offer your help like it’s nothing. Like it’s normal to give this much of your time, your energy, your effort.

It’s strange. It makes him uncomfortable.

“You’re always around?” he says, unable to stop himself. His voice comes out dry, skeptical. “Sounds like you have way too much time on your hands.”

You blink, then laugh, genuine and light.

“Not really,” you say, slipping your notes into your bag. “I’m just good at making time for things that matter.”

Your eyes flicker up to meet his, and for some reason, that sentence sticks in his brain.

Good at making time for things that matter.

Before he can think too hard about what that implies, Kageyama—completely unaware of the odd shift in atmosphere—stands, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “I’ll text you,” he says. “Uh. If I get stuck.”

“Good,” you say, satisfied. “See you both next time.”

And with that, you’re gone, stepping out of the library doors, the evening sun catching in your hair before you disappear down the hall.

There’s a brief silence.

“…She’s nice,” Kageyama says, stuffing his hands into his hoodie pockets.

Tsukishima sighs, shaking his head. “Don’t be weird about it.”

“I’m not.”

“You sound weird about it.”

Kageyama scowls but says nothing, already distracted by whatever thought process is rattling around in his thick skull.

Tsukishima, however, lingers.

He doesn’t want to admit that today went better than expected. That you weren’t condescending, that you didn’t treat Kageyama like a lost cause, that you were actually kind of impressive to watch. That there’s something about the way you carry yourself—the way you see people, notice things, care about things—that makes his stomach twist in a way he doesn’t like.

He exhales sharply. Nope. Not going there.

Instead, he shoves his hands into his jacket pockets and starts toward the exit, brushing off whatever this feeling is. After all, this is just the first session.

There’s still plenty of time for you to prove him right.

four.

After the fifth tutoring session, Tsukishima notices two things.

First: since you’ve started helping Kageyama, his calculus average has jumped dramatically from a 37 to a 60. Considering he has to catch up on the whole semester, this much progress in such a short amount of time is insane, and Tsukishima—who has spent years watching Kageyama be a stubborn idiot—is actually kinda baffled by it.

Second: it’s not that you look down on him, or Kageyama, specifically. You just look down on Greek life as a whole.

It takes him a while to realize it. At first, he assumes it’s personal—that you have some vendetta against Kappa Alpha Rho, some deep-seated superiority complex. But then, over the next few weeks, he starts paying closer attention.

You don’t sneer at Kageyama’s jersey. You don’t mock him for struggling, don’t look at him like he’s a dumb jock barely worth your time.

But when Tanaka and Noya come to pick Kageyama up after a session, still wearing their frat hoodies from some brotherhood event, Tsukishima catches the way your eyes flick to their letters. The way your lips press together, just slightly.

When Kageyama makes an offhanded comment about formal, you barely react—just a small exhale through your nose, something unimpressed.

And then there’s today.

You’re explaining another concept—Tsukishima isn’t really listening; Kageyama is nodding along, so he figures he doesn’t need to pay attention—when Hinata, of all people, shows up at the library. He bursts through the doors like a chaotic, overexcited golden retriever, completely disregarding the quiet study environment as he waves both arms above his head.

“Kageyama!”

Kageyama physically tenses. Tsukishima watches, vaguely amused, as he slowly turns to the orange-haired idiot now bounding toward them.

Hinata slaps a recruitment t-shirt onto the table. “You left it at the house, dumbass! Daichi said to bring it to you.”

Kageyama looks vaguely murderous. “Shut up.”

Tsukishima smirks. And then, he glances at you.

And there it is again: that brief flicker of something. That same exhale through your nose.

You don’t say anything, don’t react much at all—but Tsukishima sees it.

You hate frats.

And now, he wants to know why.

Luckily for him, it actually doesn’t take much to find out. 

It comes up casually, in the way most revealing things do—offhanded, unguarded, something you don’t realize you’re giving away. 

Kageyama is the one who brings it up. Not intentionally, obviously—he's never been intentionally insightful a day in his life—but between scribbling down an answer on his problem set, he suddenly asks, “Why’d you make that rule, anyway?”

You glance up, caught off guard. “Huh?”

“The GPA thing,” he clarifies. “You’re the VPAA, right? So it was your idea.”

Tsukishima watches as you blink, your grip tightening just slightly around your pen.

Then, after a moment, you exhale, setting it down. “It wasn’t just me,” you say. “It was a committee decision.”

“But you agree with it,” Tsukishima says, leveling you with a look.

Your lips press together. There it is again—that tiny flicker of something. Then, you sigh. 

“It’s just frustrating seeing people waste their potential,” you say finally, voice careful, deliberate. “I mean, don’t you want to succeed?”

Ah. So that’s what it is: you think that all fraternity boys are idiots who only care about partying and drinking games. You think they don’t care about their futures. That they’re lazy, entitled, wasting the opportunities they have.

Tsukishima exhales slowly through his nose, tipping his chair back just slightly. He should be annoyed. He should be pissed off.

But instead, he just smirks.

“You think we’re all just dumb party boys, don’t you?”

Your eyes flick to his. You don’t answer, which, really, is answer enough.

So obviously, he challenges you.

“Come to the house,” he says. “See for yourself.”

Your expression shifts into something guarded, something skeptical and unimpressed. “Why would I do that?”

“Because you clearly don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” Tsukishima says simply.

Kageyama, ever helpful, chimes in: “Hinata’s even worse at math than me.”

Tsukishima watches you pause, purse your lips, obviously considering. It’s a long pause, you staring down at the desk for a full minute, until finally, you sigh. “Fine.”

Oh, you’re in for a disaster.

five.

Walking into the Kappa Alpha Rho house for the first time, you’re not sure what you were expecting.

Whatever it was, it wasn’t… this.

The first thing you’re hit with when you enter the house is, simply put, noise. 

The music is loud—too loud for a weeknight, you think absently, because there’s no way none of these guys have morning classes tomorrow. Someone in the kitchen is yelling indistinctly over the sound of clinking glass, and from somewhere deeper inside the house, there’s a resounding crash, followed by an enthusiastic, “It’s fine, it’s fine, don’t worry about it!”

Tsukishima watches as you visibly tense, shifting your weight from one foot to the other, fingers tightening around the strap of your bag. You’re standing near the entrance like you’re considering leaving, like maybe you’d rather walk straight back out the door than step even a foot further into this chaos. You wouldn’t be the first: he’s seen people walking into the house for the first time and immediately regretting every life choice that led them here. The frat is loud, messy, chaotic in a way that isn’t easy to handle if you’re not used to it. And you—pristine, calculated, Type-A to your very core—are definitely not used to it.

He watches you closely, waiting for you to scoff any second now, to turn around and walk out.

But then, you hear it. 

“Integrate or drink, loser!”

As an applied and theoretical math double major, the sentence instantly piques your curiosity, and you can’t, in your conscience, just walk out after hearing that. So you square your shoulders, and saunter in.

And when you see it, you stop in your tracks.

The scene before you is, frankly, absurd. Kageyama is standing at the end of a beer pong table, furrowing his brows like he’s solving a differential equation rather than playing a drinking game, and Hinata, vibrating with excitement, looks one misplaced shot away from combusting. Around them, the rest of the guys are watching with varying degrees of amusement: Tanaka and Nishinoya are grinning like they already know something Kageyama doesn’t, Yamaguchi is stifling laughter behind his hand, and Tsukishima—leaning against the wall, arms crossed—is watching you.

You glance at the table. The setup is questionable, at best. The cups are unevenly spaced, some tilted at an angle that defies both gravity and common sense. The whiteboard behind them has the remnants of what was probably meant to be a scoring system, though it's mostly illegible thanks to a combination of bad handwriting and smeared marker. And then, of course, there’s the absolute nonsense of what just came out of someone’s mouth.

You shift your gaze to the ping-pong ball in Hinata’s hand, then to Kageyama, who still looks personally insulted by whatever just happened. You blink once, then twice.

“What,” you say flatly, “am I looking at?”

“The future,” Nishinoya says dramatically, throwing an arm around Tanaka. “The greatest intellectual drinking game of our generation.”

“That’s one way to put it,” Sugawara mutters. You didn’t even notice him and the other two, presumably, seniors, sitting lazily on a couch against the wall and supposedly monitoring. 

“It’s simple,” Hinata says, barely containing his enthusiasm. “You make a shot, the other guy has to solve a math problem right, or they drink.”

Silence. You stare at him.

Kageyama’s expression darkens. “It’s stupid.”

“You’re just mad because I got the last one right,” Hinata shoots back.

“No, you didn’t.”

“Yes, I did! The integral of sine is cosine, dumbass!”

“The answer was negative cosine—”

“Same thing!”

“It is literally not.”

“You know what,” you interrupt, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Forget I asked.”

At this, Tsukishima makes a quiet noise—something between a laugh and a scoff—but you don’t look at him. You’re too busy assessing the catastrophe in front of you.

Because, to be honest, this is ridiculous. A complete mess of a game, poorly thought out and even more poorly executed. But…

You bite the inside of your cheek.

The concept isn’t terrible.

It’s just wrong. And you, for better or worse, cannot let a flawed system stand.

Tsukishima watches as something in your expression shifts. You set your bag down with purpose, stepping closer to the table, eyes narrowing as you take in the setup. Then, voice completely serious, you say, “You’re playing it wrong.”

The entire room pauses.

Tanaka, who has a ping-pong ball balanced on the tip of his finger, squints. “Huh?”

“You’re playing it wrong,” you repeat, arms crossing as you survey the table like it’s a crime scene.

Hinata frowns. “No, we’re not.”

“Yes,” you say, “you are.”

Tsukishima raises a brow, intrigued. You’re not mad at them for playing. You’re not disgusted by their antics. You’re just… offended by the execution.

“The whole premise doesn’t work,” you continue, gesturing vaguely at the cups. “You can’t just shout out an integral and expect them to solve it in two seconds. You need rules. A system.”

Tanaka exchanges a glance with Nishinoya. “Bro,” he says, in awe. “We don’t have a system?”

“We do have a system,” Kageyama huffs.

You promptly ignore him, already reaching for a marker. “Okay. If we’re going to do this right, it should work like this.”

And just like that, you take over.

In what seems like an instant, the frat house—which is usually ruled by sheer chaos and barely functioning groupthink—is now operating under your direction. You’ve got the whiteboard in a chokehold, a marker uncapped and poised between your fingers as you outline a system so airtight, so horrifyingly efficient, that even Tsukishima has to admit it’s impressive.

Suddenly, the game makes sense. Instead of random, impossible integrals, each shot now corresponds to a category—concepts from the last five chapters, ranked by difficulty.

And as if just to add to the disbelief, everyone is listening.

Kageyama, glaring at the rules with an unreal intensity, is following along, his brows furrowed like he’s mentally poking holes in your system but failing to find any. Tanaka and Noya are nodding like you’ve just changed their lives. Ennoshita, who had previously been lurking near the drinks table, is watching you rewrite the game’s structure with increasing fascination.

Even Sugawara nods sagely. “She makes a good point,” he says solemnly. “The game did lack structure.”

“Thank you,” you reply, as if this is a serious academic debate and not an impromptu beer pong overhaul.

Tsukishima can’t even be mad about it. Not when you’ve very quickly become the most interesting thing in the house.

And especially not when he watches you, against all fucking odds, join in. As if you were some god tier frat boy in a past life, you sink a cup with infuriating ease on your very first throw, the ball arcing perfectly without any slightest bounce back. You don’t even blink. 

As if on cue, the whole house erupts.

Tanaka and Noya nearly combust on the spot, clutching each other in sheer exhilaration, while Kageyama’s jaw drops so fast you think it might actually unhinge. Even the seniors look mildly impressed. 

And Hinata… well, Hinata looks very afraid. 

“You—” he starts, pointing at you like he’s about to accuse you of something heinous.

But you don’t let him. You simply cross your arms, unimpressed, and say, voice smooth as ever, “Basic derivative. Give me an answer, or drink.”

There’s a split second of silence.

Then, absolute carnage.

Hinata scrambles for the marker like his life depends on it. “Uh—uh—five x to the—no, wait—”

You tilt your head. “Is that your final answer?”

“Shit, no—”

“You took too long,” you say, entirely unsympathetic. “Drink.”

Hinata lets out a strangled noise of distress as Tanaka and Noya dissolve into laughter. Even Daichi, who up until now has been observing like a wise elder, shakes his head in amusement as Hinata accepts his fate, downing his drink in defeat.

Tsukishima watches the entire thing unfold, eyes half-lidded, expression unreadable.

Huh.

He’d expected you to bail before even stepping past the threshold. Expected you to scoff, maybe say something scathing about how frat boys had the collective IQ of a teaspoon, and leave without looking back.

And yet, here you are, rewriting the rules of a drinking game with the kind of ruthless efficiency that would put actual math professors to shame. Even worse: you’re winning.

By the time you sink your third consecutive shot, the rest of the guys have gone from mildly entertained to genuinely invested. Even Kageyama, who Tsukishima assumed would be sick of math by now, is begrudgingly playing along, answering derivatives and integrals like his pride is at stake.

Tanaka and Noya have fully accepted you as one of their own, chanting your name every time you land a shot. Hinata, despite his earlier humiliation, is practically buzzing, clearly determined to redeem himself. Even Yamaguchi, who usually prefers watching Tsukishima verbally eviscerate people from the sidelines, has been sucked into the chaos, trying (and failing) to solve an integral before Kageyama can.

It’s a disaster. A ridiculous, mathematically-inclined disaster.

And you—poised, serious, utterly deadpan as you call out equations like you’re running a boot camp—are the reason for it.

Tsukishima doesn’t even realize he’s staring until Yamaguchi elbows him.

“You’re enjoying this,” Yamaguchi says, low enough that only Tsukishima can hear.

Tsukishima scoffs. “Please.”

But Yamaguchi just gives him a knowing look, then pointedly nods toward you.

Toward the way you command attention without even trying. The way you challenge their game without hesitation. The way your focus sharpens when you're confronted with something that, even in the realm of absurdity, still needs to be corrected.

Tsukishima exhales slowly, shaking his head.

Of course you’d walk into a frat house for the first time and immediately take over. 

Of course you’d turn a drunken joke into an actual intellectual challenge. 

Of course you’d be—

“Tsukishima.”

He blinks.

You’re looking at him now, one brow arched, an extra ping-pong ball in your hand. The room quiets just a fraction, the weight of attention shifting ever so slightly. “You haven’t played yet,” you say simply. Your gaze is intense, and it makes his stomach twist, his chest strangely warm. 

Tsukishima stares at you for a long moment.

Then, very slowly, he pushes off the wall. Rolls up his sleeves.

“Alright, genius girl.” He steps up to the table, arms loose, completely at ease. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

The room erupts once again.

And for the first time that night, you grin.

six.

After two months of knowing you, Tsukishima notices something else.

Your bag always contains not just the calculus textbook but several others as well. Every time he sees you on campus, you’re sprinting from place to place, dashing between study halls and libraries and the ASU building. Whenever Kageyama does need help, you’re true to your word and always there, but Tsukishima observes the way you rub at your temples when you think no one is looking, the way you blink a little too long, like you’re stealing micro-moments of rest in the middle of a conversation. The way your hands tremble slightly when you reach for your coffee, as if you’ve been running on caffeine and sheer willpower alone.

So one day, after Kageyama has already run off to his volleyball practice and it’s just the two of you in the frat house’s study room, Tsukishima finally asks the question he’s been wondering for weeks.

“Why do you do this?”

You still, your hands stopping midway as you pack up your belongings. You pause, looking up at him. “What do you mean? Tutoring?”

“Well yeah, tutoring, but also everything else—ASU, TA-ing… all of that. Why?”

You hum as you think over his question, a thoughtful look gracing your features. For a minute, it’s just silent in the room.

“I mean, do I need some grand reason to do it?” You decide after a moment of consideration, shrugging. “There’s a few reasons, I guess. But the biggest one is just that I genuinely like helping people. Like, being there for them and getting to see things click for them. That’s super rewarding in itself.”

“And the other reasons?” He watches you intently.

Clutching your laptop to your chest, you sigh, biting your bottom lip tentatively. It’s the first time he’s really seen you look vulnerable, now that he thinks about it. You’re always so calculated.

“Well– I guess it’s actually only one other reason. It’s also just… the only thing I’m really good for– sorry, at. But whatever, that’s kind of just–” you’re stumbling through your words before you cut yourself off mid-sentence, shaking your head. “At the end of the day, the only reason that matters is that I like seeing other people succeed.”

He nods slowly, sensing your discomfort and deciding not to push any further. “Yeah, okay.”

A small, wistful smile grows on your lips. “In the end, I’ll still be here. The time will pass anyway. I might as well spend it helping people find the happiness I find in math, you know?” 

“So you’re tutoring him again tomorrow?” 

You nod. “Mhm, from noon until two. I would go longer, but I think he has practice, so I’ll probably just do some work. I have a few policy briefs to go over.”

“Were you not busy enough today?” He drawls, gesturing to the sagging bag on your back. 

You laugh with pink cheeks, almost as if embarrassed at the question; you slightly scratch the back of your head. “Um, well, I don’t know. I had a really early class and then I had TA stuff, and then two tutoring sessions, and then a committee meeting and then this. So a pretty packed schedule, I guess,” you admit. Tsukishima gives you a look, and you quickly wave your hands. “I’m good though! I like all of it, so it’s not like it’s bad. It’s a lot, but not the worst, so it’s okay.”

Tsukishima watches you closely, taking in your words and the lilt in your voice. He can see the fatigue etched on your face, the prominent dark circles ringing under your eyes, but there's also a light in your eyes that speaks volumes about your genuine passion for what you do. It’s the same look that sparks up when you watch Kageyama succeed at a problem, the one that makes your eyes look like they’re dancing with fire and sets that weird fuzzy feeling in his stomach going again. It's both admirable and concerning, and he can't help but feel a strange mix of respect and worry.

“You really care about this, don’t you?” he says softly, almost more to himself than to you.

“Yeah, I do,” you reply. Your voice is purely sincere, completely direct. “Even if I’m super busy and stressed out and tired, it’s all worth it because I get to be a part of someone’s life becoming even just a little bit better.”

He’s quiet for a moment, processing everything you’ve said.

He used to hate you. He deemed you pretentious for the GPA rule, assuming you were just another overachiever with a superiority complex, or someone who enjoyed making things harder for people like him and Kageyama. Even beyond you personally, he’d always mocked people like you for flaunting their overtly virtuous and self-righteous personas, always seeming to crave attention and recognition for their altruism. 

But now, for the first time, their actions don’t seem self-serving: it’s a sacrifice, a genuine and earnest effort to make a difference that has nothing to do with personal gain. You don’t push people to do better because you think you’re above them. You do it because you believe they can be better. Because you care. Because, despite everything, you genuinely want to see people succeed. You dedicate all of yourself to others, to strangers unaware of your existence, simply because it’s the right thing to do. Simply because you can. 

You’re standing there, shoulders weighed down by the sheer number of responsibilities you carry, yet still speaking with unwavering certainty. You don’t expect anything back—in fact, you barely even take credit for the work that you do. You are just kind for the sake of being kind; even when you’re exhausted, even when you have nothing left to give, you keep going. You work yourself to the bone for the sake of everyone else, and no one seems to notice—not your professors, not the students you tutor, not the countless committees that rely on you.

Except now, Tsukishima does.

And because he doesn’t know what else to do with this realization, he sighs and just says, “You should eat before you go.”

You blink at him, caught off guard. “Huh?”

“The house is making dinner.” He shrugs, shoving his hands into his pockets. “You’re here anyway. Might as well eat something before you collapse.”

You huff a quiet laugh, but there’s something warm in your expression, something soft. “I’m not going to collapse.”

Tsukishima raises a brow. “Yeah, well. You look like you might.”

You roll your eyes, but to his surprise, you actually consider it. Then, after a pause, you sigh. “Okay, fine.”

And when you follow him toward the kitchen, Tsukishima tells himself it’s nothing. That he doesn’t care. That he’s just making sure you don’t keel over in the middle of a lecture hall somewhere.

But later, when you’re laughing at something Yamaguchi says, plate balanced in your hands, that strange, unfamiliar warmth creeps up his spine again.

And he thinks, not for the first time, that he might be screwed.

seven.

Since the first day you had dinner with them a few weeks ago, you’ve come to spend more and more time at the KAR house. 

And well, you admittedly didn’t see it coming, but you like the Kappa Alpha Rho boys.

They’re loud. They’re class clowns. They spend many, many weeknights drinking and blasting 2000’s pop at maximum volume, so much so that you can hear the telltale tunes of old Miley Cyrus and Britney Spears from halfway down Frat Row. They are, in many ways, exactly what you expected.

They’re also… really sweet. 

They’re all extremely determined to help each other to succeed. They care about each other so deeply; they’ve opened their arms to you, too, without question or complaint. They’ve looked after you in a way that you’ve never been cared for before. They gifted you a frat hoodie—your initials stitched beside the KAR letters. You have a designated mug in their kitchen cabinet. They don’t even ask if you’re staying to slide a plate in front of you at dinner. Tsukishima watches you closely whenever you pick at your food, and you pretend not to notice when he scoops an extra helping onto your plate.

They’re driven too, in their own way: as if inspired by Kageyama’s improvement, they’ve all begun to care about school, even if their study methods always seem to include some variant of rage cage or beer pong. You’ve seen how passionate they’ve grown about it, celebrating each small academic win as if it were a final exam. The whole fraternity has been clawing their way out of academic ruin, grinding through assignments, struggling through tests, pulling their GPAs up one painstaking decimal point at a time, going from one of the organizations with the lowest GPAs to being so close to the C+ minimum.

They’re so close. So close.

But technically, the frat still falls under that 2.3 minimum.

You realise this, sitting at your desk in the ASU building, because the deadline for organizations on academic probation to get their GPA up is inching closer and closer. The deadline that you set. From the policy that you put into place.

You stare at your desktop screen, at the open PDF of the passed policy, unblinking. The text is sharp and unforgiving. Academic probation lasts one semester. Organizations must raise their cumulative GPA to at least 2.3 by the end of that period or risk losing university funding. No exceptions.

You remember writing that clause, steady in your resolve at the time. It was supposed to be fair. Cut-and-dry. The goal was to push organizations to take academics seriously—to ensure that no fraternity or club skated by on empty promises and minimal effort. But now, the words feel different. They feel wrong.

You click open the academic records, searching for Kageyama’s name. His grades appear on the screen in neat rows: a scatter of past failures, single digits that make your chest ache, then a stark and steady climb. He’s sitting at a B-average now, a remarkable turnaround considering where he started. 

But as you do the math quickly (a habit at this point), calculating projected GPAs based on their current grades and the remaining assignments for the semester, you realise the bitter, indisputable results: no matter how hard they push, it won’t be enough. KAR’s overall GPA still won’t meet the minimum.

The weight of that realization settles deep in your stomach.

Your policy is flawed. 

For the first time since writing it, you see its error clear as day: it measures results, but not effort. It punishes past failure while ignoring present growth. It demands perfection in a system that, by design, allows only for progress in small, slow steps.

Something about that feels deeply, fundamentally unfair.

You think about the very principles that allowed you to sit here in the student union building, to have earned the title of Vice President of Academic Affairs. Because you’re not a natural genius, either: you’ve put in countless hours of hard work and effort into your studies, pulled countless sleepless nights and worked through countless practice problems just to get things right. Your policy was meant to encourage others to do the same. 

To reward hard work, and drive. 

And you’ve witnessed it for yourself, out of a group of rowdy, rambunctious frat boys.

You inhale sharply and sit up, rolling your chair forward. The cursor blinks in the empty document in front of you, a quiet invitation.

Slowly, carefully, you begin to type.

eight.

The night before the deadline, the Kappa Alpha Rho house is unusually quiet.

It’s strange. Even with music thumping from the speakers, even with bodies packed into the living room and voices rising in conversation, the usual energy—the chaotic, unrelenting, borderline obnoxious joy—is gone.

The party isn’t really a party. It’s a wake.

They all know what’s coming. Without funding, they’ll barely be able to keep things running. They’ll have to gut their budget, cut out every major event, every tournament, every social they used to host. They’ll lose their momentum, their presence on campus. They aren’t naive; they know what happens to a fraternity that can’t sustain itself.

So they drink. They celebrate what they were while they still can.

Tsukishima stands near the kitchen, beer in hand, watching the scene with a quiet irritation that hasn’t left him in days. It’s not just the situation—it’s you.

Because you’re not here.

And you haven’t been, not for days. No texts, no calls, no sudden appearances at dinner. No slipping into the house with your laptop and a resigned sigh, no sarcastic quips over Tsukishima’s shoulder while he studies. He knew you’d take this hard—he’s watched the way you’ve thrown yourself into their academic comeback, has seen the way your eyes light up when someone passes a test or raises their grade.

But he never thought you’d disappear.

The realisation sits heavy in his chest, unfamiliar and unwelcome. It bothers him more than he wants to admit.

“Have you heard from her?” Yamaguchi asks, appearing at his side with a drink in hand.

Tsukishima exhales sharply through his nose. “No.”

Yamaguchi frowns, but doesn’t say anything else.

The thought festers in Tsukishima’s mind as the night stretches on. He should be angry at you. A part of him is angry at you. But mostly, it just doesn’t make sense: no possible explanation he comes up with does. You’re not someone who runs from responsibility; if anything, you take too much of it on yourself. But if you’re not here, if you can’t even look at them, then maybe you really do feel guilty. Maybe you really do think you failed them.

The idea makes something twist in his gut, makes the irritation curdle into something else.

He doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do with that feeling.

So he stands there, arms crossed, listening to the frat he’s come to love mourn itself in real time.

And then the front door opens.

The music isn’t loud enough to drown out the sound—the soft creak, the shuffle of movement as someone steps inside. Tsukishima looks up, and the irritation he’s been holding onto vanishes in an instant.

Because it’s you.

You look exhausted. Shadows hang under your eyes, and your hair is slightly disheveled, like you’ve spent too many hours hunched over a desk. But still, you’re here.

And in your hand is a folder.

You walk straight toward him, weaving through the crowd, your expression unreadable. His breath catches in his throat before he realizes he’s holding it.

You stop in front of him, holding out the folder.

“Here,” you say simply.

Tsukishima doesn’t move. He just stares at you, at the folder stamped with the massive, obnoxious university logo, at the way your hand doesn’t waver. Hesitantly, he reaches out and takes it, fingers brushing against yours as he pulls it open.

His eyes scan the page.

ADDENDUM TO THE ACADEMIC PROBATION POLICY

His heart stutters.

It takes a moment for the words to register. The fraternity’s cumulative GPA is still below the requirement. But this—this thing you’ve spent the last few days working on, the thing you’ve evidently been breaking yourself over—it changes everything.

Organizations that show substantial improvement will still qualify for funding. As long as they continue to raise their GPA, they won’t be penalized.

He blinks. Once. Twice. The words blur slightly as he rereads them, brain struggling to keep up.

And then he looks up at you.

“You did this,” he says, voice lower than he intended.

You smile, small and tired but real. “You deserve it.”

Tsukishima feels like the air has been knocked from his lungs. 

For a moment, he can’t speak. He can’t move. He just stares at you, at the quiet certainty in your expression, at the exhaustion lining your face, at the way you’re standing here, in his house, telling him that they deserve this. He’s digesting the fact that you cared enough about them, that you respected their effort so much that you admitted your system’s faults to the entire university, published and notarized with physical proof.

Then, without thinking, without planning, without hesitation—he grabs your wrist.

The folder nearly slips from his grasp as he pulls you toward the center of the room, toward the rest of the fraternity. Someone notices first—Hinata, probably, judging by the sudden yell of surprise. Heads turn. Conversations still.

“What’s going on?” Kageyama asks, brow furrowed.

Tsukishima doesn’t answer. He just holds up the folder.

And then he watches it happen. The shift. The confusion, the realization, the moment the words sink in.

Kageyama’s eyes go wide. Yamaguchi’s jaw drops. Someone swears. Someone else shouts. And then, chaos simply erupts.

Because the next thing Tsukishima knows, they’re celebrating.

It’s different from before. This isn’t a goodbye party anymore. It’s loud, and wild, and joyful. There’s yelling and laughter and Hinata practically tackles you in excitement before you’re pulled into a flurry of hugs and cheers. Someone turns the music up. Someone else pops open a bottle of champagne that they were definitely not supposed to be saving for this occasion.

Tsukishima doesn’t join in.

Instead, he watches you.

Watches the way you’re laughing, exhausted but triumphant, surrounded by the people who care about you more than you realize. Watches the way they pull you into the celebration like you’ve always been one of them.

Watches the way you belong.

And for once, he doesn’t fight the way his chest tightens at the sight.

nine.

The party winds down eventually—not the joy, just the noise.

Most of the fraternity has either passed out in their rooms or sprawled out in various corners of the house, too tired (or too drunk) to make it any further. The music is still playing, but softer now, reduced to a faint hum that drifts through the open windows. Even the air feels different—lighter, easier, like the very house itself is breathing again.

Tsukishima finds you on the back porch, sitting on the steps, nursing a half-finished White Claw. He hesitates for only a second before stepping outside, letting the screen door creak shut behind him.

You glance up at him but don’t say anything as he sits down beside you. There’s no need to. The silence between you isn’t uncomfortable. It lingers, settled, like something well-worn and familiar, like you’ve known him forever.

It’s Tsukishima who breaks it first.

“Why?”

You tilt your head. “Why what?”

He huffs, staring down at his beer. “Why’d you do it?”

You blink at him, then let out a quiet laugh, shaking your head. “Because I was wrong.”

Tsukishima looks at you then, sharp eyes flickering with something unreadable. You don’t waver under the weight of it, and he remembers the way you look when you simply know something, that quiet certainty, that unshakable conviction. It sends a warmth through his chest, the same warmth he’s been trying to ignore for weeks now, the same warmth he always seems to feel when he’s with you.

“They deserved to have their efforts rewarded,” you continue, voice steady. “I wrote that policy thinking I was setting a fair standard, but all it did was punish people for starting at a disadvantage. They—” you gesture vaguely toward the house, where distant laughter still filters through the walls—“worked their asses off. I watched them do it. I wasn’t about to let that mean nothing.”

Tsukishima doesn’t respond right away, but he doesn’t need to. The way his jaw tightens, the way his fingers drum once against the step before curling into his palm—he gets it. He knew before you even said it.

“You didn’t have to kill yourself over it, though.”

You roll your eyes. “I didn’t.”

He levels you with a look.

You sigh, glancing away. “Okay. Maybe it wasn’t easy.”

That’s an understatement, and you both know it. You don’t admit just how much effort it took, how much red tape you had to cut through, how many meetings you had to schedule, reschedule, and push through just to get the addendum approved in time. You don’t tell him about the sleepless nights, about the pages of drafted revisions, about the quiet, gnawing fear that it wouldn’t be enough. You don’t tell him how you single handedly powered through academic records for every single organisation on campus, just to make sure this change gets written into law. 

You don’t have to.

Tsukishima already knows.

He clicks his tongue but doesn’t push the subject further. Instead, he shifts, stretching his legs out in front of him, leaning back on his hands. “Tanaka and Noya are already losing their minds over events now that the funding’s secure.”

You snort. “I can only imagine.”

“They’re talking about a full house party lineup, a tournament series, and some kind of insane spring break trip.” He exhales sharply, something that vaguely sounds like a laugh. “It’s exhausting just listening to them.”

You smile softly. “Sounds about right.”

He hums in agreement. Then, almost offhandedly, he adds, “They mentioned formal, too.”

You nod, swirling your drink absentmindedly. “Makes sense.”

A beat of silence.

Then.

“…Can I take you to formal?”

You freeze.

It’s not like you haven’t been asked out before, but it’s different coming from Tsukishima. Maybe it’s the way he says it—not cocky, not casual, not even teasing. Just direct. A little uncertain. A little careful.

You don’t mean to hesitate, but you do. Just for a moment.

It’s a moment too long.

Tsukishima sighs, looking away. “Forget it.”

And that’s when you see it—so brief, so subtle, but there. The way his shoulders tense, the way his lips press into a thin line, the way his fingers twitch like he’s bracing for something. Like he expected you to say no. Like he’s already trying to convince himself that he doesn’t care.

Before you even think about it, you reach for his hand. Your fingers lace through his, warm and solid, and you squeeze lightly, grounding him.

“Yes,” you say. “I want you to take me.”

Tsukishima goes still. He stares first at your joined hands, like he can’t quite process the fact that you’re holding his. Then, slowly, his gaze flickers back up to yours.

His voice is quieter when he asks, “…Not out of pity?”

“Have I ever done anything out of pity?”

He considers that for half a second before huffing out something that’s almost a laugh. “…No.”

“Exactly.”

You don’t let go of his hand, and he doesn’t pull away. Instead, you shift slightly, moving just a little closer, lifting your interlocked fingers as you lean into his side. It’s easy, natural, like something inevitable.

For a moment, Tsukishima doesn’t react.

Then, slowly, hesitantly, he squeezes your hand back.

The porch is quiet, the sounds of the house fading into the background. Somewhere inside, Tanaka and Noya are still arguing about something, Kageyama is grumbling, someone bursts into laughter—but out here, it’s just you and Tsukishima, sitting in the soft glow of the porch light, hands entwined.

Neither of you says anything else. You don’t need to.

And in that moment, Tsukishima is certain that he’s screwed. But right now, with you curled up next to him, knowing you deeply the way you seemed to know him the first time you met him, remembering everything that has brought you two here, to this moment, he is equally certain about this: he will be there. He’ll keep noticing things about you that you think no one bothers to see, and he’ll be the support that you always offer to others but never ask for. He’ll let you—make you, if he has to—rest; he’ll take care of you the way you do for everyone else. 

And above all, he’ll be the person to prove to you that you are incredible. Not just for being good at tutoring, not just for being good at math, not just for being good at school, but that he’s in awe of you and who you are. 

He’ll love you how you should be loved. 

He swears it.

⨭ closing notes; very very attached to this one bc i started it in 2019. yes, 2019. she's gone through an insane amt of rewriting and cuts, but i am super proud of this final draft and i rly rly love it. this is also 1/3 of my asu trilogy so look out for that!!! as always #comment #like #reblog i literally see them all and it keeps me going :') thank u all sm if u made it to the end!

[bbyobbyo]

Ever since you stopped using his Spotify account in the mornings, you find other ways to mess with your boyfriend.

A short continuation of this fic, but can be read as a standalone.

content: fluff, established relationship, idol!Jihoon, banter, reader and jihoon just have a permanent jam session going on, they’re in love i swear

wc: 857

note: ahhh they’re back!! thank you to everyone who read the first part and gave it love😊 this has been rotting my brain for a while and i originally was playing with this concept for the original but couldn’t pull it together but we’re here now! shoutout to @highvern because it was partly inspired by her fic “Between the Titles” which is such a great read that i highly recommend along with literally everything else she writes!! all the songs featured here are real and from an era of kpop I hold near and dear to my heart so if you recognize any of them, you’re a real one 🥰

Jihoon is not a morning person, never has been. As he sits in the dressing room of the filming studio, he can feel his eyelids getting increasingly heavy. Some of his members are actively sleeping, in fact, and Jihoon knows he’ll be joining them soon if Wonwoo takes any longer in that makeup chair.

Blasting in his ears is his usual Bruno Mars playlist, a sad attempt to try to recover his energy before he knocks out next to Mingyu sleeping on a mat on the floor, but to no avail because his mind slowly slips away until a piercing airhorn noise jolts him awake.

SEVENTEEN TEEN TEEN NEOWANA SAI E

Uhh. This was definitely not his Daily Bruno Mars Mix.

He immediately searches his screen to find out what happened when he finds his answer in the form of a text from you.

[8:18 am] good morning sleepyhead :)

[8:18 am] hope I didnt scare you too bad :)

He scrunches his face up in disbelief, half amused that you managed to catch him off guard with possibly the most annoying wake up song on Seventeen’s discography, and half annoyed at the realization that he must’ve forgotten to cancel your Spotify Jam session from yesterday.

He decides to leave your text on read. After all, he has plenty of time to be petty today. Furiously searching through his library, he queues up a song and before Mingyu can finish singing the first chorus, he smashes the next track button in smug anticipation.

Now Playing: Fxxk U • Gain, Bumkey

And he doesn’t have to wait long before he gets your reply.

[8:20 am] oh i see how it is

Now Playing: This is War • MBLAQ

If Jihoon wasn’t awake before, he definitely is now. Even as he gets called in to do his makeup next, he thinks carefully about his next move.

Now Playing: LOSER • BIGBANG

…

Now Playing: WHO, YOU? • G-DRAGON

An audible scoffs escapes from his lips as he involuntarily tilts his head back in amusement, much to the dismay of his makeup artist who had just started on his foundation. He mutters a shy sorry before resuming his search for a reply. Maybe he needs to take a different approach to this if he hopes to continue having Jam sessions with you in the future.

Now Playing: Whatcha Doin’ Today • 4Minute

As Jihoon eventually discovers, his hopes to change the topic of conversation were in vain as two songs were suddenly queued one after another.

Now Playing: Why Don’t You Know • CHUNG HA, Nucksal

Next in Queue: Mind Your Own Business • Ailee

Jihoon thinks he’s met his match, coming to the realization that he could never out sass the love of his life. But he wasn’t willing to back down so easily either.

Now Playing: I’m so sick • Apink

Next in Queue: Because of you • After School

Your next move nearly sends him to tears.

Now Playing: Excuse Me • AOA

Next in Queue: You Don’t Love Me • Spica

Next in Queue: I ain’t going home tonight • Navi, Geeks

Next in Queue: I Don’t Need a Man • miss A

As he chuckles to himself for what seems like the hundredth time this morning, this newfound form of entertainment suddenly becomes incredibly precious. Although you see each other nearly every day, Jihoon realizes just how much he misses you, talking to you about everything and nothing at all, bantering like you’ve known each other for your entire lives.

Now Playing: Am I too easy? • U-KISS

...

Now Playing: Mystery • Beast

Even though he couldn’t be with you physically, he knew you were enjoying yourself just as much as him on the other side. He could almost picture your smile of satisfaction as you found your next song, knowing that he would appreciate your humor. And appreciate he did, happily tapping away at his screen until his makeup artist puts on his finishing touches and tells him to call the next member.

Now Playing: Gotta Go • CHUNG HA

Next in Queue: I’m Busy • 2NE1

Next in Queue: Plz Don’t Be Sad • HIGHLIGHT

…

Now Playing: Okay Dokey • MINO, ZICO

Little does he know that his members are in the corner snickering at the sight, knowing that only one thing could have their producer smiling like an idiot at his phone the whole morning.

Soon enough, Jihoon and his members get swept up into their schedule involving the filming of various contents for their Youtube Channel, a task that usually takes the entire day if a game is involved. Thankfully, the game allowed for members to go home early, a rare treat considering how competitive his members can get when it comes to shooting content.

After his usual rounds of “good work everyone” to the company staff and his members, he gets ready to see the person who been on his mind (and in his ears) since the morning. Taking out his phone, he queues one last song while exiting the building.

Now Playing: Run to you • SEVENTEEN

[pasta-in-the-pudding]

ERM LIKE IMAGINE JEFF TOBY AND SLENDERMAN WITH A ZOMBIE S/O THAT'S LIKE CLINGY N STUFF AND IS A LITTLE DIMWITTED BC THEY'RE BRAIN IS LIKE GONE N STUFF BUT THEIR RLLY SWEET (platonic or romantic u can pick)

- 🧟

Summary: Jeff, Toby and Slenderman with an S/o who is a zombie. Zombie shenanigans ensue

Genre: Silly fluff

Warnings: Mentions of body parts popping off, body decaying while still being alive(ish), zombies

Credits: Jeff the killer- Creepypasta, Ticci Toby- Creepypasta, Slenderman- Creepypasta, Lacy heart divider- kodaswrld on tumblr, Lighter divider- sister-lucifer on tumblr

A/n: ok, let me first say how much i LOVE this concept!! It's so freaking epicsauce ourghhh.....also as for the relationship i did blurred lines?? Like zombie reader just is silly, creeps dont know what they're up to

Thank you so much for requesting!

Jeff The Killer

You're his favorite person in the manor (besides Ben)

Because everyone else is either stupid or weird, and that pisses him off

But you're only stupid and weird bc most of your brain is rotted out

And that's badass

You also don't talk much, so that's a big plus

You just kinda....cling

Instead of just saying "Hi Jeff!" or maybe a "omg my most favorite person in the world who is so beautiful and could rival that of jesus himself" you just kinda squeal in excitement and cling to his arm

You drool a lot, and have a bit of a biting issue

So when you cling to him he almost always also gets a mixture of slobber and blood from your previous meal on his hoodie

He's gotten used to this, so he just continues whatever he was doing while you follow him around, still clung to his arm and bent at a 90 degree angle, giggling and biting him every now and again

I think the only quirk of yours he doesn't like is when you lick him

Because it's always a big ass stripe right up his face

Have you ever smelt rotting flesh mixed with bad breath? No? He has.

You have a good reason for doing it though!

With how often his smile re-opens, you only notice the faint smell of blood

And with your seemingly never ending hunger, and way of thriving solely on instinct, you just kinda....slurp

He does NOT like that

The only creature allowed to lick him is Smile Dog, and that's because that's his son

He takes your arms away as punishment

No arms for 30 minutes >:(

Much to your dismay, because now you cant cling to him

So you make do with gnawing at him instead

Slenderman

You like to follow him around, even when he has to work

Which if you were anyone else he might be a bit annoyed

But you are harmless, and honestly what's the worst you could do?

So he allows you to stay, because it keeps you from doing something silly like losing one of your limbs in the maze like hallways of the manor

Which has happened before

it took 4 hours to find

You like to gnaw on him as well, and it is actually your main form of communication with him since he's so tall and you can't really cling to him good

You don't get bored either, i think your brain is a little bit too rotted to become bored

So a lot of times you will just wrap around his leg and gnaw at him, humming and grunting happily while he works

Every now and then he will give you a paper he doesn't need for you to chew on instead of his expensive suit

It keeps you busy for a few minutes, but nothing is better than really expensive suits

It is very quickly into your office hang outs that he begins taking your limbs from you also

Because sometimes you like to go wander

Which is fine, but those are the only limbs they have for you

So i hope you can roll around

He'd also probably be the best non-doctor creep to put your limbs back on

He has no understanding of human anatomy, but he knows that if he gets a pop its a good sign

So even though you cant understand what im saying rn bc your brain is rotted DONT LET JEFF DO IT HE WILL SNAP YOUR ARM IN HALF

Ticci Toby

Ok so we all know this guy is a nervous wreck

Well imagine that x10 around you

His main chore when he's not working is chopping firewood for the manor

Often times, doing that takes up all day so as long as you just sit there and be good, he won't have as much nerves

But we all know that the second you see a butterfly or smth, you're off chasing after it into the woods

Cut to him tying you to the nearest tree so you cant get up and run again

Which works until your arm pops off

He doesn't even notice it at first, as he was too busy chopping the wood

But the second he does notice, he screams like a little girl

"When did that happen??!?!?" he'll say worriedly as he picks it up

He knows you are a zombie, but what he doesn't know is that your limbs are able to be put back on

Cue him freaking out bc he thought he broke you or something

So he takes you to E.J, tripping over his words as he tries to explain that he has no clue what happened and how sorry he is

And E.J just....pops it right back on

"Oh." Toby mutters

The next day he decides that chopping wood is too dangerous for you, even if you aren't the one doing the chopping

So he puts all of his hoodies on you as a make-shift bubble wrap

As well as a bunch of layers of pants

And then he ties you to the tree

Which works fine!

Until you start eating dirt

"No- Hey! Don't eat that!!"

You are just happy he is showing you some attention instead of just letting you sit there all day