#will doesn’t have a secret tumblr but god does

[self-ish-daily]

God rbed mine too idk what’s going on

God

song: cicada days (live at knitting factory, spokane, wa)

word: 60 / 323

[insert-this-fire]

Overpoweringly Sweet

Logan Howlett aka Wolverine x gn!nonspecified mutant! Reader

Summary: Somehow you contracted Hanahaki for a man you hardly ever spoken to. Cant end well can it?

W/C: ~9k Warnings: a little OOC, angst, graphic description of coughing up flowers with blood.

AO3 Mirror A/N: I never post actual fics on tumblr but I feel that it needs to be done here. So sorry if its kinda formatted weird? it will also be on AO3!. First x-men fic too so sorry if its a bit ooc. Not really based on any specific iteration of Wolverine. Also not edited like, at all. Also I take requests! :3

~~ :3 ~~

You know, having a crush on someone so unattainable is laughable at best. Having a crush on them and apparently somehow contracting Hanahaki is even worse. How does that even happen? You haven’t even spoken to the guy more than a few words. Too embarrassed to open your mouth to introduce yourself and you work together. Yet here you are, petals on the bathroom floor and a constricting feeling in your throat. Your head lying on the back of the stall door. Still heaving from the sudden onslaught of overly sickly floral-scented petals that spilled out.

Gardenias. Pure white and mocking. 

The smell of them made you nauseous. The sight of them even more so. After looking up what they meant. It just made things even worse.

Secret love. How fitting.

It’s a damn crush, and the world decided it was love. Love for a grumpy ass old man with hair that kinda made you think of a cat. Actually, he reminded you of a cat in general. One that you want to rest your face on and fall asleep. Bury your face in those pecs of his. Muscles may look hard, but they do have a bit of squish. By God, does he have muscles. You’ve caught him shirtless a few times. All by accident, of course. You weren’t a pervert. Anytime you think of it, your jaw clenches tight.

Ah, getting off-topic here. Back to the fact that apparently, hanahaki doesn’t care if you’ve ever talked to someone before.

The stall door was cool against your cheek when you turned your head, and it was less gross than hugging the toilet like you wanted to so you could flush the flowers down the drain. It was terrible. The petals surround you, and a single full bloom floats mockingly in the toilet.

You know how to cure it. The moment that the flower petals started to spill from your lips, you desperately looked for what it was. It wasn’t that hard to find, apparently some find it sickeningly romantic. Bet they never had to deal with the ache that was constant around your lungs. You found the cure for it as well. Should be easy to do, right? Tell the person how you feel and they return it, or get it surgically removed. The surgery should be the right choice. It’s the only choice. You’ve hardly spoken to the man who coveted your affection, but the thought of not feeling the tug of your heart when you see him was too much to bear. Which makes no sense! It’s a dumb crush.

God, you’re an idiot.

A deep breath fills your lungs slightly, and the pain wraps around your chest as you try to get a full breath. Your hands find purchase on the rim of the toilet, and you push yourself up. Now, on two shaky legs, you wipe your mouth. You need to clean up the petals before anyone comes in. It was still the middle of the day, and classes were still going. Thank God the coughing fit didn’t hit you till lunch, or you would have to explain to a classroom full of students. That would be embarrassing. Yeah sorry class, your teacher is in love with someone they can’t have, let’s continue with the lesson now! Embarrassing.

Your hands start to pick up the petals. Each one feels as if it was searing into your skin. One, two, five, ten, thirty. Thirty petals and one full bloom. You were screwed. You could go to Hank. See if he knew any other way around it, any way to fix the disgusting flowers that took root in your lungs. Maybe being a mutant changed how to cure the disease? That was just hopeful thinking, though.

After mulling over the choices for a few moments more, you finally unlock the stall door and walk over to the garbage, quickly discarding the petals that did not make it into the toilet.

Your feet then carry you out of the bathroom and, as luck would have it, right into the chest of the one person you did not want to face yet.

Logan.

You were right, though. The muscles on his chest were squishy. God you want to just motorboat him real fast. Would that be weird? Yeah it would be. As quickly as you ran into him, you tried to remove yourself from his personal space. You know the guy wasn’t too fond of touch. You think. You actually… don’t know. Words quickly spill from your mouth as you try to apologize. “Sorry, sorry. Didn’t see you.”

Logan just makes some gruff-sounding noise and continues on his way. You could faintly see as he walked away scrunching of his nose. He was probably able to smell the faint floral scent that was clinging to you. It probably wasn’t pleasant. You didn’t like the scent, it probably was a lot stronger on his end.

As you stand in the hallway after the sudden bump into your crush, you place your hand on your chest to calm your beating heart, and you walk in the opposite direction to your classroom. It hurt that he didn’t even say anything back to your apology, but that seemed pretty in character. To you, at least. If you were on friendlier terms, maybe not, but you doubt he even knows your name.

The thought of the surgery resurfaces in your head. Maybe you should get it. Ignore the deep-seated pain in your heart at the thought of losing your feelings for him. However, the repercussions of a botched removal is another reason not to do so. It could remove the feeling of ever being in love again. Would that be so bad though?

You shake your head. You have a class you have to get back to… and a phone call to make.

The day continued on like normal after that. Classes, grading papers, discreetly removing petals from your mouth into the trashcan by your desk as you graded papers. A new norm for you. It did seem that a few students had noticed a slight change in you. In fact, one of them even got you a get well soon card. Sweet, but it left a bitter taste in your mouth.

If you don’t get better soon, you will probably end up another statistic for the disease. How many people were there that had it and perished as the roots wrapped around the lungs and slowly filled the valves on the heart. Too many, probably. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at that. That’s why you were now sitting in your now empty classroom, making a phone call. You had found a number to a doctor who specializes in the disease. You would get some advice and decide from there what you want to do.

The phone rings, once, twice….

“Hello, this is Dr. Forrest’s office. How may I help you?” How fitting a doctor who knows about Hanahaki has a nature-based last name.

You quickly introduce yourself and ask if you could speak to him or schedule an appointment. Apparently the only way to talk to him is with an appointment. The next one isn’t for a few months. You don’t even know if you’ll last that long. You’ve been keeping track. A full bloom appeared today. A singular full bloom, no steam. The petals were loose so it had to be in the early start of the mid stages. It was taking its time infecting you. It must be due to not seeing Logan all the time.

You do tend to avoid him when you can. The thought of seeing him always makes your cheeks burn. Man was just too hot. It made it seem like you were in love with just his looks! You weren’t. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be coughing up all these petals. You’re pretty sure it wasn’t just his looks. The flower has a meaning, after all.

Maybe if you avoid Logan, actually stop trying to see if you can see him across the halls. Stop looking for him during dining hours. Just try to ignore him. Though unless he was going to go on one of those sudden long vanishing acts. Well, you doubt that you actually will be able to avoid him enough to live till the next appointment. You really are screwed. Shit.

Running a hand over your face with a groan you lean back in the chair behind your desk. What should you do? The surgery now seemed to be out of the question. So now you either confess and die, or you just die. Which definitely was not the ideal thing to do. You were screwed. Hands down. Your name is on the death warrant the moment the receptionist said months. Maybe you should go to Hank. Dude was a certified genius right? He would know something.

A knock at your door made you jump. Quickly you lift your head and look over to the closed door to your classroom. Could be a student, another faculty member? Whoever it was either needed you or the room.

“Come on in.”

Silence followed and then the door opened up. Your gaze turns to the door, ready to answer whatever questions that are going to follow. Till you hear the tall tale sound of boots, heavy. The sound of jeans rubbing against legs. A jacket rustling slightly from movement. Jeez, why are you suddenly so aware of the sounds?

Your eyes hone in on the man you’ve been thinking about. Logan. Twice. TWICE in one day you’ve seen him up close. See him in your space. He never seeks you out. You never get to see him up close like this more than once or twice a week. It’s like you’re in a fanfiction and someone is pushing the two of you together.

That’s silly though, this was real life.

“Oh, Logan. How can I… help you?” Could you sound any more awkward? You want to bang your head on your desk. Especially with how he was just looking at you. Should you have called him Wolverine? Mr. Howlett?

“You need to let up on that perfume you’re wearing. Can smell it all over the hall.” His face gives away the fact he smells something he doesn’t like. 

Perfume?... Perfume… The flowers. Of course he could smell it. The floral scent has been clinging to you since the first petals slipped from between your lips.

“Oh, heh sorry. I’ll try to use less of it.” You just laugh a bit, still feeling a tad bit uncomfortable, the sudden tickle in your throat reminding you that you could not stop the smell from permeating your skin. That it will linger on you till you no longer have these flowers growing inside of your chest. “If I use too much again I’m sorry. Can’t really tell when I use too much or not.”

Blue eyes narrow at you, you can tell he doesn’t believe you. That he should call you out on it. “Thanks bub, it’s masking everything else.”

With that he left the room as quickly as he came, there was a slight pause and you can tell he glanced at the trash can by your desk. The trash can that had a few petals thrown in haphazardly. Thought to be hidden by the papers that you threw on top. You hope that is all he sees.

That was such an awkward interaction. You slam your head on the desk once more. God why are you such an idiot.

~~ :3c ~~

Time continues on like normal, but recently you catch Logan at the corner of your eye. Which is normal, you usually do seek him out. Yet now it’s like he is everywhere you go. Walking in the gardens, he’s out there smoking one of his cigars leaning on a tree or the wall of the mansion. You’d be eating and you’d see him a table or two away, his eyes on you. You can feel them boring into your skin. You’ll be walking in the hallways and see him turning a corner before you fully spot him. More often than not you find him outside of the bathroom you were just in after coughing up a storm. Just standing by the door like a guard dog. Always scrunching his nose when the door opens and the aroma of flowers follows you out.

He knew. He had to. He had to know something was wrong with you. There is no way he doesn’t. The man has been alive long enough that he probably knows the signs of what you have. The disease that is currently ruining your life. He has probably seen all sorts of people who have had Hanahaki. You won’t be the first, nor the last person he has seen inflicted with it either. It’s probably why he’s keeping an eye on you. He must have found out when he came to ask you to stop using so much perfume and yet you still smell that sickeningly floral smell on you.

Unless you’re just suddenly more aware of him than you were before. Which you shouldn’t be. You were already highly aware of him due to your damn dumb crush that’s killing you. Eyes are always lingering on him.

It’s probably because of the scent that’s following you around. It is probably sticking out more than your usual scent, which was. You don’t know. What do you normally smell like? Apparently, it’s something non-distinct since the new smell is pretty overpowering. If you can smell it, it must be strong.

You wish you knew what was going through the man’s head. You couldn’t really ask him. You aren’t close to him like that. Can’t ask the people he is close to either because you aren’t close to them. You kinda just, are here in the mansion teaching. You’re not a part of x-men, you aren’t too interested in fighting anyways. You earned your keep teaching. You are vaguely close to Hank though. Well, in recent events at least. You could ask him?

Yeah, no, you aren’t. You’re going to suffer through this. You can handle it. You don’t need to know what’s going on in his mind.

Which reminds you, you need to actually go talk to Hank. You’ve been putting it off, but the full blooms are startling. Every other coughing fit brings one full bloom. It has only been a week since the first bloom and with the sudden influx of Logan sightings, it is speeding up. You needed an out and fast. Before it kills you.

Thus here you are walking through the mansion to head down to his lab. Quickly avoiding anyone you see. The scent of flowers following you through the halls like a wraith. Leaving a trail of sweetness to waft into the air. Disgusting.

As you make your way into the lab you spot Hank, or Beast? Shit, you don’t even know which one he prefers to be called. You really should ask, huh. Anyway, you spot him.

When the blue-furred man spots you, he quickly greets you with your name: “It is good to see you this fine evening. What do I owe the pleasure? It is not often I see you down here.”

If you could, you would sigh deeply. The rattling of vines stops the motion before it begins. “Hi yeah uh. I got into a delicate situation and I don’t know who else to go to? The doctor I had called can’t really see me and I don’t know what else to do and you’re like… The smartest person I know so I’m hoping… you could help?” The words spill out quickly.

Hank raises an eyebrow and fixes the glasses perched on his face. The man was upside down for some odd reason, and he quickly flipped to land on the ground. With grace you don’t expect for someone his size. Then again, you’ve seen some weird ass mutations. He motions for you to sit down on one of the beds stationed in the lab. One used when needed for situations like this. Medical, scientific, not something you can throw a punch at and fix.

After sitting down on the bed, you start to explain. Words flowing like a waterfall. He is the first person you have gone into detail about your condition. How the petals slip from your lips like a poison, the tightening of your chest with each breath. The fear of losing yourself to unrequited love and dying because of it. You do not mention who it is directed at nor the fact you thought it was a crush and did not deserve to have evolved into such a disease.

The room fell silent after your reveal, a silence that stretched on longer than you would have liked. God, you hope he has an idea about how to help you out of this mess.

“From my knowledge there are only two cures. I assume you already know.” A pause as you answer with a curt nod. “I do not believe there are any other alternatives other than what has been proven to work. I assume that you are here to find out if there are any or that you require the surgery.”

“I can’t tell them… I really had hoped that you would know. I don’t.” You sigh and run a hand through your hair, messing it up slightly. It was already a mess from earlier, but you know how hands are in hair. “It’s not an option to tell them.”

“I see. It will take some time, but I will see if I can learn the correct procedure so that there will be minimal to no complications.” Hank pats you on the shoulder and motions for you to head out. He had some things to do and research to go over. Escorting you out of his lab so Hank may do what is necessary. He didn’t give a timeline, but you trust that he can do it before your time is up.

You really hope that he can do this.

After leaving the lab, you had to pass some of the other faculty. Or X-men? Yeah, it seems they are setting off on a mission of some sort. You pass Cyclops, Storm, Jean and. Yeah, that is exactly who you don’t want to see right now. Logan. Seems he is going with them. To, wherever they have to go. You give them all a small nod in acknowledgment as you pass them. Each one provides you a small smile or nods back.

Logan though? He pauses when you pass him. His face contorted into something you weren’t too sure of. He probably caught another whiff of the flowers on you. Great. The others give him a look and he just grunts at them. Somehow they understand and continue on their way. Leaving you with Logan.

A hand grabs your bicep, fingers wrapping around the muscle. Your gaze drops to the hand, in another life you were sure it would be rough with use, but it was surprisingly soft. The grip was not, natural strength hidden behind the hold. A promise that you would not be able to pull away without exerting yourself.

“You’re smellin’ worse. Thought I told you to let up.” A gruff voice, oh how you want to roll in that voice. That was a weird thought, you should probably stop thinking of that like a weirdo. God are you a weirdo?

An awkward laugh bubbles up from your chest. You can feel your own muscles tense under his hold and gaze. Damn he’s never looked at you like this before. A slight glare, crinckled nose, and a slight snarl on his lips. You must be really weird because damn was that kind of a hot look. Which somehow in turn makes your chest tighten and the tickle of a cough is trying to break free. You swallow hard to bite it back. Yet you can feel the petals moving through your throat. 

“Sorry sorry, I guess I overdid it?” You pull your eyes away from his. Unable to continue to look at his face. Be it from your weird thoughts, the tickle in your throat or your inability to keep eye contact with someone. “I swear I’m not doing it on purpose.”

“You’re hiding that you're sick.” The grip on your arm tightens. Not in a painful manner no, but a reminder that you cannot run away from this conversation. Which is odd right? Why does Logan care? You two hardly know each other. Sure you apparently love the man, but you’re still sure he doesn’t even know your name. You’ve seen him care for others in the mansion, a good friend in an odd way. A father figure and mentor to some of the students. Also in a weird way. You’re sure he’d brush off that idea and say he isn’t. He is.

Wait, he just said you’re sick… “I’m not sick?” 

Logan's eyes narrow as he stares at you. Do you look sick? Sure you’ve gotten a little pale and eating has gotten a little hard so you haven’t been eating as much as you usually do. Does being sick have a smell to it? Fuck that is weird. Well, some animals could tell when others are sick before physical symptoms show. Maybe that's how he knew. No, that wouldn’t make sense because you aren’t really sick. You just have a big fat crush that's killing you. 

You can tell Logan doesn’t believe you. “Just fix it. Can’t stand the smell on you.” His hand lets go and he stalks down the hallway to where the others had walked off to. Your eyes linger on his form as he walks away. The ghost of a feeling on your arm where his hand had wrapped around it. The slight warmth seeping into your skin slowly vanishes. God you’re fucked. 

~~ >:3 ~~

And fucked you are. It’s been at least two months since you told Hank about the hanahaki. Hank is taking his sweet ass time researching the procedure, the doctor you called has called back finally and mentioned that his next opening for a consultation was still months away. Which you decide to say fuck that guy, you trust Hank can do it. The doctor probably won’t even work on a mutant. Logan is still always at the corner of your eye. A scowl or sneer on his face anytime he looks at you. Not to mention the flowers! They’re getting worse.

Full blooms, multiple at a time. Their petals no longer loose around the center. Now they are tightly packed, fully bloomed and speckled with blood as they escape through your throat. Occasionally there would be a flower that had not bloomed yet. Still wrapped tightly, not fully formed. You weren’t sure what that meant, but you’re sure it wasn’t good. At least they were not roses. You feel bad for those who dealt with that. Thorns were something you were happy that was not in the mix of your own flower hell.

The flowers aren’t fully developed yet. Stems have not fallen with them. Yet you are unsure if you would survive long enough to see the end stages of hanahaki. Your body is getting weaker and weaker each day. Your own mutation even fighting against you. You can hardly call on it now. Once you had wished to be a normal person, but that has been years ago. Now you feel like you are losing a part of yourself. These damn flowers truly are killing you. Both physically and emotionally. 

You had to leave class more often. The coughs that tore through your chest made it unbearable to speak long enough to teach an entire class to its completion. Students start to worry, other faculty seem to notice the sudden change as you have to start asking for people to cover your class for you as you rush to the restroom to hug the porcelain throne to exude the flowers of love. Each time more and more petals fall from your lips, tears stain your cheeks more often due to the pain and energy it takes to clear them out from your throat. 

It has gotten to the point where you had to ask someone to cover your class in full, or cancel it. You don’t want to cancel your classes, but at the rate you are going it will be the only thing you can do. Today is probably the last full class you can handle, you feel like shit. Your throat itches, your stomach aches from the lack of food. Your head hurts because of the lack of sleep from the coughing. Yeah, you might have to take a break from it all. What surprises you is that Logan is waiting outside of your classroom.

Ok it’s not that surprising. You’ve been catching him outside your classroom since he came back. It is like he is suddenly more aware of you. He doesn’t say anything, but you can feel his eyes on you. You would be excited usually, your crush suddenly paying attention to you! How great is that? Yet lately it just makes things feel so much worse. Especially with that sneer on his face. You know he knows something is up, he made it clear two months ago. Though he hasn’t brought it up again. Yet he is always there. Like a shadow. 

Which is honestly a bit uncomfortable. You aren’t used to this amount of attention. 

“You don’t have to stand out here you know?” Papers you needed to grade were in your arms. You may need to take a break, but you should at least grade these papers before someone takes the class over. Your last bit of work. 

Logan just stares at you. The slight glare, the wrinkled nose, the arms crossing making those muscles bulge out of his shirt. You had to quickly drag your eyes away from his arms so you aren’t caught staring. You don’t meet his eyes though. It was too intense. 

“You’re getting worse.” Way to point out the obvious Logan.

“Good observation.” A short pause follows after. Silence falls for a few moments. “I uh, it’s why I’m takin a break. Sick leave? Uh… Yeah…” You really don’t know how to talk to him. The tickle in your throat is back again. Too soon, you just hacked up half your lung just moments before. You really don’t want to cough in front of him. You thought he might already know what it is, but he still thinks the smell on you is perfume. So no way do you want him to know the truth. 

Logan stares at you a few moments longer, a slight grunt. His head motioned for you to follow him. That’s how you read it at least as he starts to walk down the corridor and only pauses to look at you. Looks like you’re following him. This can’t end well can it? 

The two of you walk silently through the corridors. Your arms are still full of papers, but it seems the two of you are heading out into the garden. Probably for the best, the crisp air outside will dull the floral scent. Hopefully at least. Even if it lingers on your skin and it has gotten to the point others have even started to point it out. The halls were mostly empty though at this time. Most students are already off doing their own thing, you can vaguely hear a laughter from down the hall as the two of you finally make your way outside.

Into the garden, the cool air bites at your exposed arms. You should have worn a jacket. Too late for that now it seems. The trees are already turning orange, autumn making its way across the land. Oranges, reds and browns. If you weren’t full of anxiety you would be enjoying the sights. Especially as Logan brings you over to a small bench by the man-made pond. A bit away from everyone, but still close enough to the mansion you can dash inside if needed. 

You take a seat first. The papers sit beside you. Logan stands in front of you. Arms crossed and eyes narrowed. He isn’t sitting. Why isn’t he sitting?

“So uh…” Your voice comes out first, awkward and a bit unsure. The tickle in your throat grows again as you fight it back.

“It’s not perfume on you is it?” Logan’s gaze never leaves yours, but you can’t help but look away. Too uncomfortable with the eyes boring into you. You never once used perfume, though you did use that as an excuse didn’t you?

Silence followed after. Your eyes looking at the ground as you kick your legs back and forth. Unable to voice the truth. Logan is still looking at you, jaw clenching most likely. You don’t have to look at him to know.

His voice finally cuts through the silence. Apparently he was sick of you beating around the bush and not answering him. Your name on his lips startling you slightly. You honestly thought he didn’t know your name, but it seems you were wrong. “What's makin you so sick that it’s leaving you to look like that and smell like that.”

You should tell him. Tell him. TELL HIM. 

… 

You’ll tell him without actually telling him. You don’t think you’d survive telling him the full truth. You’re a pretty good liar most of the time. He might be able to pick through the lie but he’s not that perceptive right? 

“I uh… It’s.” You feel like you’re stumbling over your words, your throat constricting. “I have.”

You couldn’t finish your sentence. Your muscles tensing as a cough tears through you. Violently. Your body lurching forward as your hand shoots up to cover your lips as the cough pulls out petals and blossoms alike. Your hand can’t catch all the petals as they spill to the ground. Your eyes clenching shut as tears prickle the corners due to how painful it was. The other hand not covering your mouth grabs at your chest. As if you could claw the roots out through your skin. It burns. 

It burns, it burns, it burns. 

It won’t stop. You can’t stop hacking up the petals. Each cough brings out a sob with it as well. It has never been this bad. The scent of gardenias explodes. It burns your nose. You hate the smell of it. If you survive you’ll never be able to handle this scent again. Your body retching forward as you double over. Body crumpling in on itself as you try desperately to get some air into your already filled lungs. You would think having plants living in your lungs would give you more oxygen. If only it didn’t wrap tightly around your lungs and neighboring organs. Leaving little space for what you truly needed.

You almost forget Logan is there with you. An unexpected presence sits beside you. Warmth seeping into your side. He doesn’t set a comforting hand on your back. Doesn’t say any words. But him sitting beside you is enough comfort. You don’t think you could handle physical touch anyways. Your body would probably jerk harder at it. Hanahaki really was a killing disease wasn’t it. It was going to kill you before even getting to the final stage. You can’t do this.

Slowly the coughing fit lessens. The petals and blooms spilling from your mouth as if it was all you breathed came to a stop. Your body still hunched over, tears filling your eyes as you finally, finally stopped coughing up the damned flowers. You were still shaking, trying to catch the lost breath.

“You’re ok sweetheart. Just try and breathe.” Something large, heavy, warm rests on your upper back. Small soothing circles. He called you sweetheart, that was strange. You don’t expect comfort. You don’t think Logan expected to comfort you like this either. It was an awkward movement, but comforting. You wanted to lean into it, lean into him. You weren’t going to though. Pain was radiating through your chest and you weren’t sure you would be able to sit up straight without coughing again. Fear that any movement will bring on another coughing fit settled inside of you like a vice. You can still feel the slight tickle in your raw throat. 

You taste blood.

It takes a few tries, gasping tries, before air finally was able to fill your lungs enough that you could breathe properly. Or well, as well as you can with roots wrapping around your insides. You pull out a few petals that were still stuck in your mouth and let them fall to the ground as you slowly sit up. Still slightly hunched over but no longer practically hugging your legs. You wipe your mouth on the back of your hand, blood from your lips smearing across your skin. Eyes on the ground where the mess you made mocks you. There's so much, white and red. White flowers that you would have thought beautiful covered in splotches of your own blood. Tainting the gardenias, tainting the meaning of secret love. Disgusting. You’re disgusting. 

Your eyes linger on the ground as you finally speak. Voice raspy and strained. “Sorry.” 

“Nothin to be sorry about, nasty thing you got. Seen it a few times.” Logan’s voice is gruff, yet there is a touch of something tender in there. Unexpected. You don’t like it. He shouldn’t be treating you like this. He doesn’t know you, he doesn’t know that you’re like this because of him, because of your dumb crush on him that the world decided was good enough to practically kill you.  

Ok that’s not true. You know under his rough and tough demeanor and the huge, insensitive ass he could be. He’s caring and trustworthy. Loyal as fuck and self-sacrificing. It’s what had drawn you in in the first place. The soft look he’d give to people he cared about when no one was looking. The way he treats the younger mutants. It was heartwarming. Your admiration for him turned from simply looking up to him to wanting him to look at you that way.

Silence falls between the two of you again as you continue to try to take in oxygen. The taste of iron and earth is still on your tongue. The sound of fellow mutants distantly chatting and the occasional bird cuts through the silence. You don’t want to talk, you don’t want to tell him who your affliction derives from. You doubt he would ask, but he might. You’ll need to think of an excuse. A lie. Anything to keep him from finding out it is him. He’d reject you. You know this already. You’ve seen him look at others. He doesn’t look at you like that. You just learned he knew your name too! The two of you hardly spoke before. This is the most attention you have ever gotten from him. He doesn’t love you the way the disease needs him to. 

“Who's the asshole?” His words cut through the silence again. Surprising you once more. This definitely is the most words he has ever spoken to you.

“Doesn’t matter… He doesn’t feel the same.” Your throat continued to feel raw. It hurt to speak, but you needed to answer. You couldn’t stay quiet when he asked. Your gaze moves from the ground to glance at him from the side. You try not to meet his eyes but you can see a look on his face that had never been directed towards you. In any other situation you would be happy, ecstatic. Right now though, it makes your stomach tie up in uncomfortable knots. 

A slight hint of anger crosses Logan’s face and his hand just rests on your back, no longer rubbing those soothing circles. You know he wants to know. The look he has on him makes you think he sees you as someone under his protection, it’s nice. Even if it is not really what you want at the moment.

“So you’re willing to die for him.” There was a short pause between his words. His tone is soft, you don’t like it. “Seen most with it die that way. Shouldn’t have to die like that.”

You decide not to reply to the fact that you were willing to die for these feelings. Why? Because you still don’t want to believe it is true. Even with the flowers clearly showing signs the crush was love. Infatuation. You hate this. “Dr. Mccoy is going to perform the surgery for me. Should be any day now.”

You at least hope it will be any day now. You spoke to him a couple days ago and he seemed a bit all over the place so you couldn’t ask him if he was ready yet. You know he hadn’t forgotten, you saw the books laying on one of the tables next to some tools, but time was ticking and it was ticking fast. You know it and now… Now Logan knows it too. You’re on limited time. 

“I… can’t tell him. He doesn’t feel the same, he can’t. I’ll die if I tell him. I have to do the surgery. I’d rather chance not feeling love again than to confess and die. I…” Your hands curl into themselves as you look back down at the flowers. The tightening in your chest squeezes harder. You don’t need to explain yourself, but you feel like you have to. This way you can come to terms with it. Speaking it out loud makes it all too real. “I trust Dr.Mccoy. He won’t fail. He… he can’t.”

“Lotta trust in the guy.” Logan leans back on the bench, his hand lingering on your back removes itself as he crosses his arms. You feel the itch in your throat again, it’s too soon for more petals. You at least hope so. Logan then continues, “Remember watching someone choke on their own blood cause of that shit. Don’t want to see you on that end sweetheart.”

Logan called you sweetheart, again. It made butterflies fly around your stomach, churning with the anxiety already there. It was not the most comfortable of feelings. You weren’t expecting it this time either. It was nice. Would be nicer in better circumstances though. “Thanks Logan, but I’ll survive this. I have to…”

“Still think you should tell me who this asshole is. Could talk to him.” You hear the familiar snikt sound, a clear sign he extended his claws. A glance over was all you needed to confirm he did, the light gleaming off the metal. 

“God no! Sure actions speak louder than words for him, but it wont help.” Because he’d be threatening himself. You couldn’t help but let a pathetic laugh bubble up. Pain radiating through your chest and throat as you do so. At least you can still find some humor in this. Logan’s claws go right back under his skin and between his knuckles at your words. Though you can tell he still seemed interested in using violence against who is causing this for you. God, you wish you could tell him.

The two of you fall into another silence. Your own thoughts are swirling through your head and you’re sure Logan is also dealing with his own thoughts. Your disease is now out there. What truly ales you has been revealed without you actually saying the words. You wished you could have said the words, said what it was, told him your feelings. Though things never work out that way do they. 

You aren’t sure how this was going to end.

Logan looks at you the same time you gaze at him. Your eyes meet his blue ones. You would wax poetic about his eyes, but that seems pretty cliche. Everyone always does when talking about blue eyes, how they look like the ocean, or the sky. Logan’s reminds you of steel, the silvery blue that almost matches the adamantium claws you see on occasion. There is something in those eyes though, something you can’t read. Something behind that wall everyone knows he puts up. You want to dig deeper, fall into those eyes to avoid all your problems. Be free of the pain you can’t escape. The two of you seem to just stare at each other far longer than it felt. 

“Tell me when you get the surgery. I want to be there.” 

“...Okay.”

And just like that, the two of you break eye contact and fall into a silence. A silence only broken by the occasional cough from you and the sounds of nature and other mutants about. You wish you could have experienced this sooner. Before your world decided to crash down on you. You’ll just have to enjoy the time with him like this while you can. Before the feelings you have for him are forever torn away. Leaving only a hollow space in your chest for the fellow mutant. 

You’re not ready. 

~~ :3 !! ~~

Hank Mccoy finally let you know he was ready to do the surgery a few days after your chat with Logan. You weren’t ready for it. You didn’t want to lose these feelings, you didn’t want the complications that may follow, but fuck you don’t want to die either. You will die if you don’t do this surgery. You can’t… You have to do this. 

Which is why you are outside of the room Logan usually occupies when he is in the mansion. You've been standing outside of his room for what felt like hours now. You knew he probably could hear your heartbeat, but he isn’t coming out. He asked to be there when you got the surgery. He wanted to support you for some reason. You could just go, leave and get the surgery without telling him. Your anxiety welling up along with the urge to throw up. Your hand is already raised before you could stop yourself and you knock three times.

Silence follows after. The sound of shuffling and the door opens. Logan standing there in one of those slutty little white tank tops and jeans. A classic look that was all too hot in your opinion. Your mouth feels dry as he looks at you.

“I’m getting it now.” You rub your arm, unable to look him in the eyes. You do look at his face though. Just long enough to see shock cross his face for a few seconds, which quickly vanished back behind his usual look. Logan steps out of his room and shuts the door, head tilting to the side a bit as he waits for you to start walking to Hank’s lab. 

The two of you walk silently through the halls. It was late in the afternoon. You could have gotten it earlier in the day but your body was so exhausted from the coughing fit you had that night that you couldn’t bring yourself to get out of bed. In fact you’re still in your pajamas mostly. Sweatpants and a t-shirt. Comfy. You’re going into surgery, you deserve not to dress up for it. Logan doesn’t comment on it either so it’s fine. You’re fine. 

Everything is fine.

The two of you enter the lab quietly. No one else seems to be here but Hank. After all, one else knew. People knew you were sick of course, but you kept a tight lip on what exactly was inflicting you.

Hank greets you with your name. A look of surprise as his eyes drop onto Logan. Quickly he glanced back at you and you just shrugged your shoulders slightly. Letting Hank know the situation. How Logan knew what was wrong with you and wanted to be here with you. Moral support from the emotionally constipated x-men. Well, mostly constipated. 

After going over the procedures and what needed to be done you step behind the curtains, changing into one of those flimsy hospital gowns. The cool air nipping at your skin as you bite your bottom lip. You were scared. You didn’t want this. You couldn’t do this. You can’t do this! You don’t want to lose your feelings for Logan. He just now is starting to show you attention. It’s not fair! You shouldn’t have to deal with this! You can’t, you can’t, you can’t, you can’t, you can’t, you can’t, you can’t. 

“Are you okay?” Hank's voice cuts through your spiral. Eyes watering and your chest heaving. Ohm you were crying. No, you were sobbing again. Your hands are shaking at your side. You glance at the curtain that hid you from the other two. You know they heard you crying, heard you falling apart. How embarrassing. Your hand grips at the gown, bunching it up at your chest as you take a shaky breath. Lungs barely able to hold a full inhale. 

“Yeah… Yeah sorry. I’m ok. I’m ready.” You step out from behind the curtain. Clear concern was on the blue mutant's face. You can’t read the others. You don’t like this. You silently pad over to the table, bed, whatever it is, that is set up for you. Another strained breathe and you sit on the surface. A glance at the two of them and you lay back. You’re surprised the professor wasn’t here to help out. Maybe he wasn’t needed. Hank could handle this on his own. You can handle this. Logan was here, you didn’t want him here, but it was a strange comfort knowing the man you loved was here to support you. Even if said surgery would remove all feelings for him. How poetic. 

You stare at the ceiling, unsure of what to do as Hank moves around you. Logan who had been leaning on the wall walks over and takes your hand in his. Holding it as if you would shatter at the softest of touches. You hate it. 

“Offer still stands darlin’. Can make the guy love you back.” Although the words would work well in a teasing tone. There was a hint of seriousness behind it. Like he didn’t want you to go under. To have the gardenias removed from your chest. Your hand squeezes his weakly. You knew you didn’t have much time left. You had to do this or confess. Only one of those was an actual option.

Hank returns and holds up the mask. You lift your head up as he slides it over your mouth and nose. It’s too late. You can feel the tears threatening to fall again. You’re scared. Your grip on Logan’s hand tightens as Hank moves around you, making sure you’re hooked up correctly. Your vision starts to blur slightly. You try to inhale the gas as deeply as you could, it hurt. Your lungs didn’t want to fill, you think you can feel the roots wiggling deeper through your lungs and closer to your heart. Your eyes are on Logan, fear clearly radiating off of you. Your own eyes showing the anxiety inside of you. Logan just stands strong next to you. Like a silent guard. 

As the world starts to blacken around you, the corners of the room vanishing slowly. You couldn’t help yourself. You were getting the surgery. You can say the words now. It won’t matter. Your head was already floating and consciousness was fading. Eyes focusing on Logan, like a tunnel. All you could see was him as the world around you slowly vanished into nothingness.   Three words slipped out of you without much thought.

“I love you.” 

The world shifts and the world goes dark. 

The quiet beeping echos. A steady rhythm that matches the slight pounding in your head. Your eyes slowly open, only to quickly shut again. The lights were a bit too bright and everything was… Numb. Your mouth feels dry and you physically can’t feel anything. Did the surgery go wrong? Why can’t you feel anything? A groan bubbles up from your throat as you force your eyes to open. That’s when you feel it.

You can feel every muscle, every fiber of the blanket covering you. The heaviness in your chest is gone. You take a breath. You can… You can take a breath. Your lungs are fully filled with oxygen. Chest rising higher than it has in months. You can breathe. Your eyes open again, the bright fluorescent lights above you illuminate the room. You tilt your head away from looking up at the ceiling. Eyes moving around the room. Gaze falling on the little monitor you’re hooked up to. The beeping was your heartbeat. Ok. That looked good. 

Your head turns the other direction as you take in another sweet deep breath. Eyes landing on Logan. He was still here, sitting beside your bed, head lolled to the side clearly asleep. Your chest tightens in the familiar feeling you have been dealing with for months. That can’t be right. You shouldn’t still be feeling this longing. You shouldn’t still be feeling the warmth that spreads through you over the fact that he had stayed. You shouldn’t be feeling the soft tug on your heart as you look at him or the soft smile pulling on your lips.

This was wrong. Something was wrong. You raise the arm that wasn’t hooked up to all the devices and set it on your chest. There was pain there, raw and uncomfortable, but there was no bump on your chest to show there was a bandage, no pain pulling at your skin. The pain you felt was all under your skin. This isn’t right, something is wrong. Your chest felt clear but you have no evidence that you underwent the surgery. You force yourself to sit up. Pain shoots down your spine. You groaned in pain and a hand was suddenly pressing down on your shoulder. Forcing you back onto the bed. Logan had gotten up.

“Logan?” Your voice was scratchy. It felt just like the times you coughed up all those flowers when he found out. “What… What’s going on? Why do I…” 

“Yeah it’s me. Lay back down. Can’t have you moving around too much yet.” Logan’s hand was still on your shoulder, a gentle pressure making you lay back down onto the bed. Your eyebrows furrowing in confusion at the look he is giving you. You can’t read him. “Don’t talk too much either. Hank said you got to heal.”

Yet you’re pretty sure you didn’t get the surgery though! You should be dead. You… You told Logan how you felt. How you still feel. Yet the urge to cough is gone. Your chest feeling lighter than it has since before the disease took its hold on your life. That has to mean something. Something happened when you went under. What happened? Why won’t he tell you? Why is he looking at you like that? 

Logan’s hand finally pulled away from your shoulder. He just stares down at you as you stare at him. Silence falls between you two. His hand then slowly moves again. Your eyes darting down to the hand. Slowly his hand goes to push some hair out of your face. The same look he has been giving you for the past few months crosses his face. You still don’t know what it means, but it is making your stomach flip. 

“Glad you didn’t die for a guy like me. World be a lot darker without you in it.” His hand gently cups your cheek, his thumb gently rubbing your cheek. His hand was soft and warm. The touch a bit too tender for someone like him.

Wait. Wait wait wait. He heard you. He heard what you said before going under. You didn’t go through the surgery yet your chest feels lighter than it should. That could only mean one thing. Your eyes go wide in surprise and your lips part as you go to speak. Pain still itching at your throat.

“You heard me…” Of course he heard you! He was right next to you holding your hand. He has enhanced senses. He heard you confess. He heard you say you loved him. You’re still alive, you still feel for him and you confessed! That has to mean. Your face suddenly lights up. Heat pooling both on your cheeks and in your stomach. There is only one explanation. There is only one way you were able to live and still feel this way. Logan loved you back. That doesn’t make sense though! Before you started smelling like flowers the two of you never spoke to one another. Yet he…

He loved you back.

“Yeah, I did. Could have told me sooner to save you the pain. Told ya I’d make sure the guy felt the same.” His hand leaves your face. He turns to grab the chair he had been sitting in before and pulls it over. The chair legs screeching across the floor making you flinch at the noise. Once the chair was next to you he sat down and took your hand in his again. Once more treating you like glass. Though you appreciate it, you feel like glass right now. 

Logan lifts your hand up to his face, blue eyes staring straight into your own as his lips find your knuckles. Leaving a soft kiss. You were already blushing before, but you swear you feel like you’re on fire. His lips brushing against your knuckles as he speaks once more. You really aren’t used to hearing him speak so much. “Looks like we got a lot to talk about sweetheart.”

You just silently nod, unable to break your gaze from his. Your hand is lowered, your heart beating out of your chest. You are sure he can hear it. You lick your lips, unable to speak a word out of fear you’ll embarrass yourself further. Logan just chuckles slightly, a deep reverberating one. 

“Guess I should say it, not really good with the emotions shit, but I love you too.”

A few blinks and then a small laugh comes out of you. A wince follows after, but the biggest grin spreads on your face. All it took was you almost dying to finally hear those three little words. You’ll never look at gardenias the same again, nor will you be able to stand the sickly sweet smell of a strong floral scent. That doesn’t matter to you though. You obtained something you thought was unattainable. The love of the man you were in love with. The secret love no longer hidden. 

You can now understand the look Logan was giving you. It was the same you had been giving him. You both were in love with each other but were unsure how to go about it. All it took was the flowers that no longer were growing inside of you. 

You finally say the words, more confident than when you went under. “I love you.” 

“Love you too sweetheart.” 

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Clandestine. Part Four.

Part One. Part Two. Part Three.

Chapter Synopsis - Death puts everything into perspective.

Pairing - Stewy Hosseini x Female Roy!Reader

Warnings - cursing. lots of talk about grief.

Word Count - 3k

Author’s Note - now I might just be the last person on tumblr still writing for stewy, but I am determined to finish this series. let’s ignore the fact it’s been a year since I updated it, shall we? one more part of this to go!! thank you, if you’re still here for my succession stuff <3

Series Masterlist. Main Masterlist. Inbox.

You’re floating around in a daze.

It’s been a week since Connor’s phone call. A week since the formidable Logan Roy died on the floor of his private plane, surrounded by his closest employees. A week since you’ve seen Stewy.

You’ve been crashing in Roman’s guest room, neither of you wanting to be alone. You go to your Dad’s apartment, have meetings with old white men that all look the same, pop into the office every now and again and go home to your brothers. You were barely speaking to Kendall before all of this happening, never mind now. You can’t remember the last time the two of you said more than three words to each other.

You’re sat at Roman’s dinner table when a strange feeling settles in the pit of your stomach. You watch him picking at his salad for a minute before you say anything.

“Have you… spoke to Kendall? Like, over the last few days?”

Roman looks confused by the question, but doesn’t voice it.

“Yeah, here and there. You guys are in a fight, right?”

“Uh, yeah. We were. I guess we still are. I’m just… worried about him. God knows his mental health has been in the gutter recently anyway, but now Dad’s dead, and… I don’t know. It just can’t end well, right?”

“All we can do is keep an eye on him, I guess. He won’t fucking accept it even if we try and help, so.”

“Yeah.”

You move the chicken around on your plate with your fork, neither of you having much of an appetite recently.

“So, you never told me what your fight was about. It all seems like this big ass fucking secret that only Roman doesn’t know about.”

You’re a little taken aback by Romans candour. Usually he’s pretty avoidant, happy to live with the not knowing. He’s done with that, apparently.

“You’re not the only one that doesn’t know, Rome. Ken is the only one that does.”

“Why?”

“Why?”

“Yeah, why? Why does everyone include Kendall in everything and leave me on the fucking sidelines? Why am I always the one who doesn’t get the joke, who doesn’t know the secret?”

“Rome-”

“I know he’s your favourite, but Jesus. You could at least try and include me sometimes.”

“Roman.”

“What?”

“Kendall only ‘knows the secret’ because he… walked in on the secret. Not because I sought him out and told him, or anything like that. I promise.”

“The fuck are you talking about?”

With what has happened over the past week, your perspective on almost everything has changed. Keeping your secret is no longer top priority - or priority at all. You’re realising that you don’t care, because it doesn’t matter. Not much really matters.

“I’m in love with Stewy.”

Roman’s silent for a moment, processing.

“Hosseini?”

You can’t help but laugh.

“Yeah, Rome. Hosseini. Do you know any other Stewys?”

He shakes his head, still visibly confused.

“Are you gonna tell him?”

“Tell him what?”

“That you’re in love with him.”

“Oh. Oh. Yeah, um… he already knows. We - we’re in love. With each other. We’re dating.”

“You’re dating him?”

“That’s crazier than me being in love with him one sided?”

“Uh, yeah.”

You chuckle, looking at him for a moment before a grin breaks out across his face. He’s always been the most easy going of your brothers, the most understanding. You’ve always felt a comfort in talking to Roman - he’s more open minded than he appears. He’s a surprisingly good listener, even when you think your problems are trivial or stupid.

“For how long?”

“Fuck, I don’t even know. Two years, give or take?”

“Two years?”

“Are you mad?”

“Mad? I’m mad impressed, Princess. I didn’t think you’d be able to keep a big secret like that from me for that long.”

“So you don’t hate me?”

You’re suddenly vulnerable, terrified that your big brother is going to think less of you. Your brothers are all you have, all you’ve ever had. The four of you learned to survive with each other, with no help from parents or nannies or any kind of adult. You have nothing if you don’t have your brothers.

“I don’t hate you, dummy. I could never hate you.”

You stand up and make your way over to him, perching on his leg like you used to when you were kids. You wrap your arms around his neck, exhaling when he wraps his around your middle.

“Love you, Rome,” you whisper. “Even if you are a pain in my ass.”

“Yeah, love you too,” he murmurs. “Even if you do keep important secrets from me.”

“I promise I won’t keep anything from you ever again.”

“Yeah?��

“Yeah. Promise. No more secrets.”

You pull back but stay sat on his lap, feeling six years old again, taking solace in the presence of your big brother.

“So Kendall… walked in on you?”

“He saw us leaving the gala together and got suspicious. He showed up at Stewy’s apartment the next morning, banging on the door and asking where I was.”

“Oh shit,” he laughs.

“It’s not funny,” you retort, but you’re holding back your giggles as you do it.

“And I’m guessing he didn’t take it well.”

“Not at all. He was cycling between yelling and swearing and then sitting really quietly just… staring into space. Then he got personal, which was expected, but that pissed Stewy off, so the whole thing got awkward again. It was… horrendous.”

“He’s horrible at feelings.”

“Says Mr Communication over here.”

He shoves you off his lap, chuckling when you slide onto the floor. You punch him in the arm as you get up, returning to your original seat. You sit in silence for a moment, neither of you quite sure how to continue.

“What now?”

“I… don’t know, Rome. I just don’t know.”

“I mean, the world hasn’t stopped spinning. Maybe it feels like it has for us, but everyone else has carried on.”

You’re confused by your brother’s sudden wisdom, until it clicks for you.

He’s free.

Sure, he’s grieving. You all are. But he’s lighter. Laughs a little easier. Gives out advice quicker.

He’s free.

You all are.

The shackles your father had placed on all four of you are broken. You are no longer bound to him or Waystar or his insane ideals as to what family should be or do or say.

“I need to get out.”

“What?” Roman asks as he cocks his head, quirking a brow at you in curiosity.

“I don’t want to be a part of this anymore. This… constant cycle of destruction and deception and stabbing people in the back. It won’t stop now that Dad’s dead. It’s the very foundation that his business is built on.”

“So you’re gonna… leave?”

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s exactly what I’m gonna do. I’m gonna sell my shares and I’m gonna get the fuck out.”

Roman laughs, now, all big and bold and beautiful. You don’t know what’s funny, but you can’t help but laugh with him.

“I am too.”

“Wait… what?”

“I’m doing the same.”

“Roman.”

“I’m serious. I don’t know who CEO is gonna be, but it isn’t gonna be me. It’ll be Kendall or Tom or someone completely different, but we all know neither you or I are capable.”

“Jeez. Thanks.”

“You’re telling me you could run the entire Waystar business?”

You roll your eyes, kicking him under the table.

“Obviously I fucking couldn’t. But at least pretend to have a little bit more faith in me.”

Your brother chuckles, leaning back in his chair.

“We’re not built for it, you and me. We’re meant for something different. Something better, Princess.”

You nod, chewing on your bottom lip.

“What about Kendall?”

“What about him?”

“I feel like we’re… abandoning him.”

Rome looks solemn, suddenly, thinking about your older brother.

“He’ll come around, you know. And he’ll understand. That’s the thing about Kendall - he can’t hold a grudge to save his life. He tries, but he can’t.”

A tear rolls down your cheek, lump in your throat choking any words that try to escape.

“Hey, hey,” Roman soothes as he walks over, standing above you.

He swipes his thumb across your cheekbone, wiping away your sadness.

“He loves you more than anything, you know.”

You shake your head, so your brother doubles down.

“He does. You’ve always been his favourite. He’d do anything for you - anything at all. He’s mad because you and Stewy kept a secret from him, not because you’re together. Trust me.”

“He looked at me that day like he hated me.”

“He couldn’t hate you if he tried. He’s just… emotionally unavailable. Everyone knows this.”

“I miss him,” you whisper, lip trembling. “I miss my brother.”

You’re taken aback by how much you miss Kendall, suddenly. You miss him so much more than you miss Logan, or your Mom.

“Give him time. That’s all he needs. He misses you, I know he does. But you know what he’s like when he feels betrayed. He shuts down and gets all aggressive.”

You look up at Roman, gentle smile making its way onto your face.

“When did you get so smart, huh?”

“I’ve always been smart,” he laughs. “Everyone underestimates me.”

“That they do.”

“Well, not anymore. We’re getting out.”

“We’re getting out,” you repeat, finally allowing yourself to feel happiness at the prospect. “We’re gonna get the fuck out.”

“Talk to Stewy about selling your shares and let me know what he says. The sooner, the better.”

“I will. I’m excited, Rome. The world is our oyster.”

“Me too,” he chuckles, ruffling your hair. “We’ll go to the funeral, and then we’ll never have to see any of those assholes ever again.”

“I can’t wait to not have to look at Karl’s stupid fucking face every day.”

Roman keels over laughing, wheezing as he clutches his stomach. You’re crying with laughter too, both of you lighter and freer than you’ve ever been.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

“You sure about this, Rome?”

“One hundred percent.”

You hug him tightly as you say goodbye, smiling when he presses a kiss into your hair.

“I’ll let you know what Stewy says tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay. See you tomorrow, Princess. Call me if you need anything.”

“You too. Anything.”

He ruffles your hair before sending you on your way, waiting at the front door to watch you go.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

“Stewy? You home?”

You drop your bags by the front door, kicking off your shoes and jacket as you do it. You’re about to yell again when he comes running around the corner, sliding across the wood floors in his socks.

“Baby.”

He breathes it, as if he can’t believe you’re really standing in front of him again.

“Missed you, Hosseini.”

You fly into his arms, burying yourself as deep as you can in his chest. His old, worn t shirt is soft and grey and smells like the love of your life and all of his memories spent at home. He tightens his grip on you, pulling you impossibly closer.

“How are you?” he asks without letting go, resting his chin on the top of your head.

“I’m okay. I’m good, actually. Really good.”

“Yeah?”

Now he pulls away to look at you, confused by the sudden change of heart. When you left to go to Roman’s a week ago, you were a shell of a woman, a little girl without a dad. Now, you’re back, brighter and more alive than ever.

“Yeah.”

You look at him, really look at him, for a moment, before taking a deep breath and saying the words you’ve been dying to say.

“Marry me, Stewy.”

He staggers back as if you’ve hit him, eyes blown wide.

“W-what?”

“Marry me.”

He inhales, exhaling shakily before stepping forward to cradle your face in his hands.

“Aren’t I supposed to be asking you that?”

“Maybe,” you laugh. “But I guess I got there first.”

“Honey, forgive me if I’m a little confused, but… you just came back after being gone for a week because your dad died and now you’re… proposing?”

“Me and Roman are leaving Waystar,” you explain. “We’re selling our shares and getting the fuck out.”

“Shit. Really?”

“Really. The only thing stopping me from leaving years ago was the fear of disappointing my dad, and now he’s gone. So… there’s nothing keeping me there. I wanna do something else. Something for me.”

“Yeah?”

He’s grinning, beaming at you from ear to ear. Light is practically pouring from him, radiating in all directions.

“Yeah,” you half yell, leaning up to press an excited kiss to his lips. “I’m done, Stewy. I’m free.”

He picks you up, wrapping his arms around you as the two of you spin. You shriek with laughter, the world blurring as it whizzes past you. Eventually he puts you down, both of you breathless.

“Life’s too short. I need to start living it.”

“I’m so proud of you,” he whispers, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “I love you.”

“I love you so much. More than anything.”

You kiss him tenderly, gentle and sweet and filled with so much adoration.

“So, back to my original question…”

“Wait,” he interrupts, halting your speech. “Let me do this the right way.”

With that, he runs off towards the bedroom, leaving you stood in the hallway as confused as ever. You wait patiently, desperate to be privy to his plans.

When he returns, still in his pyjamas, he kisses you softly before getting down on one knee, ring box in his hand.

“Honey. You are the love of my goddamn life. I bought this ring after we’d been dating for… three months? Call me crazy, but I knew. I just knew. It was always going to be me and you. Always.”

Your hands are shaking, breath caught in your chest as you try to soak in every second of this moment.

“So…. how do you feel about becoming Mrs Hosseini?”

“I can’t think of anything I’d love more.”

“Is that a yes?”

“The biggest, most sure yes of my entire life. Yes. Yes, I’ll marry you. Yes.”

He swoops you up into his arms, kissing you with more passion than you ever thought possible. You slip your tongue into his mouth cheekily, tangling your fingers into his hair to pull him closer as he groans.

You finally pull away for air, both of you panting like you’ve just run a marathon. Your eyes well up suddenly, a tear falling without you realising.

“You okay?” he murmurs, thumbs rubbing circles into your cheekbones.

“I’m so happy,” you whisper. “I feel like today is the first day of the rest of my life.”

“So do I,” he agrees, looking down at you with so much love you it makes your knees buckle. “Baby… if you’re getting out, then I’m getting out.”

“Wait, what?”

“If you want to get out of Waystar, I’m not gonna stay. If you’re washing your hands of it, then I am too.”

“But… your money.”

“Honey, those shares don’t mean shit to me. The only thing that matters is you.”

You look at him intently for a moment, searching for any traces of doubt. All you find is pure adoration.

“Stewy?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you gonna keep that ring in the box forever?”

He throws his head back as he laughs, opening the velvet box to show you what’s inside. He slips it onto your finger with ease, the diamond sparkling perfectly on your hand.

“It’s so beautiful. I’m the luckiest person in the world, Mr Hosseini.”

“I think I have to disagree with you there, Mrs Hosseini.”

“Say it again.”

“Mrs Hosseini.”

“And again.”

He kisses you, mumbling against your lips.

“Mrs Hosseini.”

“Mhmm.”

“My wife. The prettiest girl in the world. Mrs Hosseini.”

You can’t help but grin into his mouth, buzzing with the energy of it all.

“Now, I was about to make dinner before you came home, but we can go out and celebrate if you want?”

You shake your head, snaking your arms around his neck.

“All I want right now is a night in with you - that’s all the celebration I need. Let’s make that pasta you like, and then we can watch old sitcom reruns on the couch.”

“Sounds perfect.”

Stewy slides his hand into yours, his thumb playing with the shiny band of the ring on your finger.

“It’s gonna be like this forever, you know. We get to do this for the rest of our lives.”

“It’s all I’ve ever wanted,” you breathe, resting your head on his shoulder as you make your way to the kitchen. “You’re all I’ve ever wanted.”

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

As the sun sets through the floor to ceiling windows, you and Stewy dance across the kitchen, slipping and sliding across the tiles.

Your heart skips a beat every time your ring catches the light.

Your heart skips a beat every time you look at your fiancé.

Your heart skips a beat every time you realise that you’re not dreaming.

This is your life. And you’ve never been more excited to live it.

@justacaliforniandreamer @616wilsons @shawty-writes-a-little @isuspectitwasthenargles @thinemineours @buckysbae @jolie989 @allcheesemelts @nosebeers

[lichenes]

#1 dad(dy)

based on those tweets/tumblr posts: ⓪ ① ② ③ ④ ⑤ ⑥ ⑦ CW: mentions of smoking, actor au wc: 571 .  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚ .  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚.  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚.  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚.  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚

The sound of clapperboard was heard as the day of filming began. “Today, due to immense demand, Gabriel Fouché, will be reading your thirst tweets!” Said the director with a bright smile. A part of the contract with the studio recording “Arcane” was to take part in a few interviews, this one was a bit- unusual for him. 

“RIP to Silco, you would’ve loved vaping ‘bandaged heart’, you would’ve been doing crazy smoke tricks on tiktok ‘R. N’.” He chuckled. “What does R, N mean?” Laughs could be heard behind the cameras. Someone answered. “Right now.” Gabriel nodded. 

“Well I did have to learn how to smoke cigars and do tricks with the smoke for the role. I do have to admit I am a habitual cigarette smoker so it was infinitely easier to master the art.” He paused for a moment. “As for the tiktok tricks - I’m a jughead when it comes to technology so unless there would be someone doing all the recording… you aren’t seeing those videos any time soon.” 

“The children yearn for the mines, and my photo underneath it.” He burst out laughing, putting his hand on his mouth. “Ahahah- okay, okay. Yeah they do.” 

“I think about this Silco moment every day, my god he’s so hot here.” Gabriel tilted his head. “Hmm… it seems most fans of Silco find him most attractive when he’s kicking the camera. I wonder why.” He put his hand on his chin in faux thought and then laughed.

“Sorry but older Silco ‘greater-than’ young Silco. I actually have to disagree on that.” He said. “Younger Silco was in one scene and he captured so many hearts, both on set and amongst the viewers, that Older Silco didn’t manage to do with all his screen time. Younger Silco is something special…” 

“Hashtag Zaundads, actually!” Gabriel got closer to the camera and put his hand to his mouth almost as to whisper a secret. “Me and Gerard actually kissed to prepare for the alternate universe episode, to really get into character, you know.” Gasps were heard in the studio. “I’m joking.” He said winking towards the camera.

“Silco’s left eye is missing eyelids so I guess he was sleeping like this every night. Exactly what happened I can attest to that.” He nodded solemnly. “Actually, SIlco just doesn’t sleep ever, that’s how he runs Zaun, he does not let his guard down even for a moment. Poor guy, he needs to relax more.” 

“P, L, S - please, I assume? - Stop posting Silco thirst he looks like my dad, and a comment left under that, is your dad single? I’d love to meet my doppelganger! Send me a message and we shall schedule it.” He said half-joking as an email popped up on the screen. 

“And the final one- okay who the hell was all over my dash two years ago thirsting over Silco, I understand you now. I want his whole wardrobe and he can read the dictionary to me until I fall asleep. I actually have a deal to voice a certain someone in a new project we’ve been working on with the cast so keep your eyes open!” He said. “And as for my wardrobe, I’ve seen some pretty talented people replicating my outfits! So it’s clearly easy to steal Silco’s wardrobe.” 

“Thank you all for watching!!” He exclaimed with his million dollar smile as the cameras stopped rolling.

.  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚ .  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚.  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚.  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚.  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚

masterlist

[ceratedfish24]

I am currently in a bad mood due to this one Tumblr creator kinda dragging Scott repeatedly. Their takes just rub me the wrong way.

They made this one post, which is so hilarious (it made me want to put the phone) where they were talking about Martyn's betrayal in Limited Life and Scott's reaction to said betrayal.

They claimed that Scott felt the need to gain some sort of moral high ground just because he wasn't particularly upset (or showed he was upset) that Martyn killed him, and just — what????

And their general talks about Pearl and Scott also feel odd.

Man, that sucks. I bet they didn’t say anything about how Pearl wanted to give her life for Scar in Secret Life. If Scott not being mad that Martyn killed him cause Scott had already won is “gaining moral high ground”, then Pearl trying to sacrifice herself is exactly the same. Except, neither of them are clawing for moral high ground because that’s insane. They’ve just won before and wouldn’t want to win again. Scott is literally known for sacrificing himself for his allies, because why wouldn’t he? What would he gain from sincerely trying to win? They would’ve been so much angrier if Scott had won. What would they have rather Scott do? Throw a tantrum? In the last 5 seconds of his finale? Scott is the calmest person in the Life Series.

Scott was going to sacrifice his life to Martyn, and he knew that Martyn would take it without hesitation. It’s Martyn, and Scott was already a winner. In Limited Life, Bdubs sacrificed himself for Jimmy, even though they’re on opposing teams. Is that gaining moral high ground? In Secret Life, was giving hearts to players who needed it even though it didn’t really benefit you gaining moral high ground? The idea that every nice thing Scott does comes from a place of malice or selfishness is so terribly hypocritical.

I’m sorry, but they sound sexist.

A lot of the hate towards Scott comes from the stereotype of male villains with distinct non-masculine traits, like trickster gods. There’s this idea that non-masculine men must be insecure, otherwise they have some kind of secret or ulterior motive. Scott is a confident man who generally doesn’t fit most people’s definition of “masculine”, and that makes people think that he must be fake or up to something. People don’t fit into your ugly little stereotypes. People are not constructed to fit into boxes. It doesn’t matter how sweet Scott is or much good he does or how much his (overwhelmingly large number of) friends support him and refer to him as one of the most wonderful people they know (No for real I’ve never seen a bigger extrovert how does he maintain close relationships with so many people). Scott being a confident non-masculine man makes people think that he is a manipulator.

As for the Scott and Pearl stuff, if they’re saying what most other people who say weird things about Scott and Pearl are saying, then that is so incredibly hypocritical. I have seen a lot of people saying that Scott and Cleo shouldn’t have teamed with Pearl this season because they’re going to betray her (they did not)(why would they). This is strange for Cleo because Cleo has no history of betraying anyone without being provoked and Cleo has never been on Pearl’s team for an extended period of time, so there isn’t even history to refer to. This is hypocritical for Scott because Scott defended and avenged Pearl when he was her ally in Last Life and left her in Double Life because what was he supposed to do? Team up with Pearl for two seasons in a row? After he won the first season with Pearl? The same people complaining about him now would’ve been outraged. Scott leaving Pearl was provoked; it just wasn’t Pearl doing the provoking. It’s the fandom’s fault that Scott didn’t feel safe teaming with Pearl again, and what with what happened to Grian and Scar? It’s not surprising. Scott made the safest call for everyone. Don’t whine about Scott leaving Pearl when he did it because you’ve proven that you can’t handle when the same people pair up. The only exception is TIES and BEST, and that’s not entirely the same group of people.

Scott is a delightful person, and there’s no evidence of Scott having done anything that would suggest that he’s manipulative. Sometimes people are just normal.

That’s really rough, Anon. I’m glad that you felt comfortable seeking support here.🩵 Sending you a virtual hug and a slightly derpy photo of my dog, “Royal Caramel Sundae”.

[indestinatus]

2024 IN WRITING

tagging: @television-overload @benditlikepress @hopeless-nostalgiac @loudlooks @slouchingprovocatively @mrsmungus @mondlersswiftie @zeevah-ninja @pokingacave @natalias @loismagic @atlolevad4ev @hundan and addi (who doesn't have a tumblr) <3

1. List of works published this year: 16 (wow?)

She -> the fic I wrote knowing Ziva was coming back and no one knew it yet omg it was incredible

I'll crawl home to her -> finally got the courage to write a reunion of sorts. Can't wait till they reunite again on screen in Paris

carve your name into my bedpost -> post-season 17 Tony asks Ziva out on a date

you're too sweet for me -> the beginning of my secret summer obsession

sorry for not winning you an arcade ring -> Tony asks Ziva to marry him

we’ve already done it in my head -> second secret summer fic of the year, basically a sex dream from Ziva haha

no other shade of blue -> Tiva angst in the spin-off!!!

and the birds will sing our song in halcyon -> sugary sweet fic of the year, eternal bliss for those two beloved characters

rudely barging in on a white veil occasion -> Tony and Ziva burst into a wedding and the rest is history (in the spin-off omg)

when you were mine in the dark -> read this, please. It is my best work ever. Follows what happened in Paris on 7x13

Miss Congeniality -> I will continue this when I finish writing the ones I plan to post before the spin-off airs (stay tuned)

Coming Soon -> I was so excited to write a trailer and then the trailer got leaked haha

maybe we got lost in translation -> the beginning of me writing in clues, the intrigue and mystery never ends

page fifty-seven -> sex

we should just kiss (like real people do) -> Tony kisses Ziva in a Christmas party under the mistletoe

I hope you see me in your dreams -> another heartbreaking tale of Tony seeing Ziva's ghost

2. Work you are most proud of (and why):

when you were mine in the dark -> this is my favorite work of mine. I wrote it in a span of months, thinking about every bit of dialogue, action, emotion, and so on. So much research went into the source material and compiling different ideas of canonical events. God, I had so much fun. It's rare for me to be proud of something. I'm tremendously proud of this one.

3. Work you are least proud of (and why):

Coming Soon -> will probably delete it someday haha I was just too excited and published this one in a daze

4. A favorite excerpt of your writing:

from my favorite, when you were mine in the dark:

“Ha-ha, David. It isn’t me who is so uncultured she doesn’t know Ratatouille.” “I know ratatouille.” She passes past him to climb the stairs to their hotel lobby. Sending him a side-eyed glance, Ziva looks over her shoulder, saying, “The dish, yes? It is delicious. Tomatoes, zucchini, and peppers—I make a tremendous one.” It’s true. “But what does it have to do with a cooking rat?” “A rat chef. Not a cooking rat.” “So, a chef that is a rat?” “More of a rat that is a chef. Y’know what? Don’t sweat on it.”  “You already did for both of us, yes?”  “Don’t blame me for needing a shower. It was an eight-hour flight.”  “Oh, believe me,” she says, holding her breath. “I know.”

5. Share or describe a favorite review you received:

again (I say this with such a rare pride) from my favorite when you were mine in the dark:

"WOW. Your ability to draw on the depth of emotion and intimacy between these characters and weave it into something so beautiful and comprehensive could be studied by academics. This was the perfect story to read on a beautiful autumn day, like a warm hug of words."

Thank you so much, @vexthejester, for such a kind review. Whenever I need the strength to dive into writing again, I reread your words. They have affected me more than anything. Thank you.

6. A time when writing was really, really hard:

November 2024 (aka the hardest month of medical residency; I almost didn't sleep, let alone write. But hooray to battling through it, I got out of it alive!!!)

7. A scene or character you wrote that surprised you:

Writing about Somalia in (again LOL my favorite) when you were mine in the dark. That nightmare scene took a lot of me to write and it was so tricky to write about trauma and not make it traumatic.

8. How did you grow as a writer this year:

I think I matured enough to write about more serious topics in the Tiva timeline (Somalia, the secret summer, Tony alone during season 13, Tali's birth) with the degree of seriousness I wanted to.

The spin-off been revealed also pushed me to write about stuff I had always been afraid (sofia's take on 11x02 is coming!!! don't worry) in a way I liked. I had so much fun.

9. How do you hope to grow next year:

Next year will be a year filled with studies from me again (horrible) but I'll continue to dive into hard topics such as Tali's birth, Cairo and 11x02. Can't wait to write about them before canon changes haha.

Also... The spin-off? Like??? Until proven otherwise, we are all collectively dreaming. It makes me want to cry.

10. Who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer or beta or cheerleader or muse etc etc):

Gotta give this one completely to @television-overload. Haley is such a sweet soul and a loyal friend. We embarked on this journey of a Tiva Fanfiction Writing project together (which you can check on @tiva-challenges !!!) in a way I've always dreamed of. Thank you, friend. Here's to many more projects in the Tiva universe.

11. Anything from your real life show up in your writing this year:

Yes. You don't need to know more, but all the secret summer of sex fics are about me personally. Yes. All of them. Yes, I know what you're thinking. Yes. Yes, all of them.

12. Any new wisdom you can share with other writers:

Treat your audience like they're smart.

It changed the way I wrote things completely. I show more than tell now and I found out that is the key to mysterious writing (which I love), people are going to make the connections. Storytelling is so fun!!!

13. Any projects you’re looking forward to starting (or finishing) in the new year:

YES. I'm currently writing about Tali's birth for a big personal goal of mine and I also want to write about Cairo before canon changes.

Which, well... Expect me to write about every episode of the spin-off. I can't believe I can say this. What a dream. What a beautiful dream.

14. If you could recommend only one work from yourself published this year:

when you were mine in the dark

Everyone, make way—this is my favorite work, ever. Trust me. Please. Please, read this one. It summarizes everything I think about Tony & Ziva.

15. Year word count: 101,920

I can't believe I've written this much this year. And without any big uncompleted works. I had only written this much on the pandemic.

Thank you so much for all the support! I love writing. I'll continue to write about Tony & Ziva until all of you get tired of me. Yay!

[screamingmandrakes]

Just started writing my first Billford fic and I am so nervous wisjekdledlek

"Sixer."

The name is spoken clear as night, deceptively sweet in a way Ford knows all too well. He ignores it, a scowl forming as Bill zips around his head, moving so quickly that he’s little more than a blur. Ford’s focus remains on his work — what little he can manage under Bill’s watchful eye. His monster tells him he’s at the tip of the pyramid, a luxury at the end of the world. While everything Ford cherishes falls victim to violence beyond the penthouse walls, he remains trapped among grotesque mockeries of humanity: sentient couches made from living human skin, clocks that scream bloody murder at midnight. Sometimes, Ford swears the walls are breathing.

The good news is that he’s nearly indestructible here — except at the hands of Bill. The bad news is that escape seems very unlikely.

"Still plotting your escape, huh?" Bill asks cheerily as he settles on Ford’s shoulder. Ford grunts dismissively, mumbling under his breath about his hatred for geometry and some vague threat of revenge. It doesn’t matter much; his desire to destroy Bill is no secret, and shouting threats has accomplished nothing so far. Ford allows his eyes to flutter shut for a second, feeling the strain of exhaustion lay heavily on his body. He doesn’t know how long he’s been here or if he’s even where he was told he is, but he understands something he has known for a long time: sleep is weakness. He cannot afford to be weak, not now.

He inhales deeply. The room smells overly of vanilla, like a cheap candle never having been snuffed out.

He may be a God, but I am a scientist.

Right. He’s a scientist, and a damn good one at that. There has to be something, a variable he isn’t seeing about the situation — a loophole! Magic doesn’t abide by the laws of science, but the very fabric of earth does, and that’s what he has on his side.

Bill watches as the quill scratches sharply across the parchment, summoning his cane with a snap of his fingers. “Oh-ho! Impressive! Look who's been burning the midnight oil, IQ. But tell me, what’s the plan this time, genius?"

(My Billford Tumblr is @onesixerplease !! I posted this on the wrong account LOL. Excuse any typos/misspellings, this hasn’t been checked)

[romanarose]

Puzzle Pieces Drabbles: part 2

Ben Miller x Fem!Reader

Fic Summary: You're dating Tom, a whirlwind romance that came at a low point in your life. Within months, you live with him and he's not as nice as he was in the begining. Tom does things that upset you, Benny finds a way to make it better.

Chapter Summary: Tom won't come look at your tomatoes. Based on a tumblr post I cant find.

Warnings: IDK what to call this but it's def shitty behavior throughout. Will progressively get worse during the series but let's start with this. Drinking. Someone not appriciating your excitment.

A/N: This will be a short series of comfort drabbles where Tom does something shitty and Ben makes it better. No smut. I'm at a low point rn and just want softness.

This is my submission for Triple Frontier Write-a-Thon !!! come join in the fun and follow @triplefrontier-anniversary to find more fics!!!

************************

“TOM!!!!!” You scramble up from your garden patch to where you were tending to your plants, standing to see Tom and Ben drinking on the porch.

Tom turns, looking worried. “What? What happened?!”

“My tomato’s bloomed!!!” You say with a wide grin, giddy with excitement.

He relaxes. “Oh my god. Is that it? Woman, you scared the shit out of me.” He went back to his grilling.

Your shoulder slump a little. “Sorry… I was just excited…” You point to your garden. “It’s just… the tomatoes!!!” Ben is watching curiously, but he doesn’t say anything.

Tom flips a burger. “Uh huh. That’s nice honey.”

Ben asks a question now. “The tomatoes?”

Muttering, Tom explains with a wave of his hand. “She was trying to get the tomatoes to grow forever.”

“So will you please come see them?” You try to get him to come over, but he just looks over the railing.

“Uh-huh, they look great.” 

Your hands drop to your side. “Tom, you can’t even see them.”

“They look… so cool” Is he… laughing? He’s laughing at you. You don’t turn to look at Ben, you couldn’t bear to see him laughing at you too. So, you simply go back to your garden, tending to the weeds, trying to immerse yourself in the classical music you heard helps plants grow. You don’t even hear him walk up to you at the garden bed.

“Oh!” Your startle when Benny kneels down next to you, getting in the dirt with you.

“Shit, sorry.” Ben chuckles, his floppy dirty blonde hair falling in his eyes. You wonder if he ever had an emo phase. “I wanted to see the tomatoes”

You roll your eyes but laugh. “You don’t want to see my tiny green tomatoes.”

He is completely sincere, blue eyes shining in the summer sun as he smiles. He has a pretty smile. “I do, actually.” You ignore the flutter in your chest.

So, you show them to him, Benny sounding very impressed as he looks. He tells you how his therapist wanted him to try getting plants to have something to take care of, briefly mentioning that he feels like he was always the one being cared for. He chuckles when he says ‘guess I’m not responsible enough to keep a succulent alive’, but you can feel the truth behind his words. You offer to help him if he wants to try again. Benny lights up at that.

You want to know what he’s in therapy for, why he feels like he’s not responsible enough for a plant, you want to know so much more about him… but you don’t ask. Ben isn’t your boyfriend, Tom is. You loved Tom, you were going to marry Tom. Ben… Ben was just a nice bonus, right?

***************

Remember, if they dont care about the things you care about, they arent the one!!! someon will care <3

follow @romana-updates for more!!

@my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction@itspdameronthings @miraclesabound @missdictatorme @rubyfruitjungle @axshadows @pimosworld @casa-boiardi

[monstersholygrail]

Do you have any monster OCs? or any OCs at all? :o

You are opening Pandora’s box with this question, my love. Goodness gracious, I’m gonna put it all under the cut because the answer is yes, I have many OCs both monster, cyborg, and otherwise!

Thank you so much for asking btw, it was super sweet of you <33

If anyone would like to send in any asks about these then I’d be more than happy to talk about them 👉🏼👈🏼

Tumblr OCs

So, starting off with on my blog, I have 2 OCs! I have Demon Prist, my special boy. His story is that he is a fallen angel who is desperately trying to get back into Heaven and God’s good graces when you come into his life. He’s convinced you’re a gift from God for his devotion all these millennia as you take his pain away.

I also have Ghost bf whose name is yet to be revealed although I do have one! His story (lore drop!) is that when moving to a new city, you’re looking for an apartment and you find him! The two of you talk for weeks before agreeing to a sort of trial run. But before you can get there, Ghost bf dies and you show up to an empty apartment and you expect him to be back soon. When he reveals himself to you the two of you contact each other in weird ways and fall in love along the way.

More to come too!

Book OCs

Then I also have Monster OCs that I would like to introduce here and later possibly turn into books! The first being Wren and Emery. Wren is a bigender Eldritch monster whose favorite show is a monster hunter show where they find monsters and study them. Not actual hunting. Emery was the host of this show with her bf Jonah when a bad werewolf accident happens and Jonah kind of takes over the show. Wren decides to invite the show to his manor to essentially… catch him. All in order to help Emery. It’s very rom-com vibes. Wren and Emery are the main couple (Jonah is bad)

I have Delilah and Augustine with their friends Ivory and Sivan. I want to write their story through an anthology. It’s basically flustered vampire x bimbo human. Delilah is insanely smart, she’s a mortician ironically. But she misses a lot of things right in front of her, hence the bimbo type personality. So it’s a collection of like Augustine constantly getting caught being a vampire bc he’s not smooth or sneaky (anymore) and it just doesn’t click for Delilah. Which makes Ivory, her best friend that’s also a secret vampire, insane. She’s a hypocrite but her and Auggie have a fun dynamic.

Thirdly, I also have Zella and Senén. Sen is a hybrid wolf who ran his own mafia when his men thinks he betrayed them and the cops are on his tail. So hides as a puppy hybrid in England with an American woman named Zella who’s there looking after her sick grandmother. He has to maintain his facade even as he finds it all super demeaning. But he falls for Zella and starts getting comfortable in this new life when trouble turns its head back around on him.

Next I also have this idea for a futuristic serial fiction that would span over at least 100 chapters. It’s sci-fi fantasy. Think Nimona-ish but darker. It’s ultimately kinda cyberpunk but from the opposite perspective of it for the most part. It follows Nora or Noor and she’s in the II (Iridium Imperium) also known as the eyes. It’s a guild that protects the city like law enforcement and they’re all cyborgs with special magical gifts. Their whole city runs on guilds it’s a requirement to be in one within city limits. Only those with magical gifts can join The II. The story covers the climatic and intense downfall of The II and ultimately Nora herself as everything she’s ever known is destroyed and she’s the last to accept it if she ever really does. She has at least 3 romantic partners over the course of the series but I’m unsure if I want her to end up Ren, her enemies to lovers man from outside the city limits who understands her far too well, her ex Gio who abandoned her in order to join the resistance but always comes back for her whenever she needs him, end up with them both in a throuple, or if she should end up alone! It’s a huge world and many OCs within this world.

The working title of this next one is called Grimoire Gargoyles! It features Giselle who’s a librarian working in France at a super old library. She finds herself in the restricted section and reads out loud from a book. Accidentally releasing two French Revolution Gargoyles from their prison stuck on top of the library. Now that Francois and Bastien are free they try and leave but find themselves drawn back to Giselle. Revealing themselves to her she isn’t afraid given that monsters are a normal sight in their world. Though Gargoyles have been extinct since the Revolution. Together they work together to try and finish the spell to release them from their curse and fall in love along the way.

More include a heist trilogy with a Dragon jeweler for the King and a thief, a dryad who accidentally performs a mating ritual with an ancient dragon at a festival celebrating his supposed vanquishing, a vampire stalker who stalks a human after tasting her blood for the first time but then stops and she starts stalking him bc she’s upset he stopped stalking her, a dragon hybrid and a griffin hybrid who exchange mating symbols as kids and basically betroth themselves to each other but he’s meant to marry her sister and years later they go through the marriage trials together not knowing it’s impossible for him to marry someone else.

Other Book OCs

My oldest OCs are from last November and it’s called Crafting Constellations. It’s an elf world and all high fantasy. The first book follows Soleil and Peracles. Peracles is the heir to a Kingdom that’s only ever had female rulers and Soleil is his general. They have a forbidden romance going on and have to work together to figure out the evil plot against the crown by an unknown force. See art of them here. Its sequel features Cane, Peracles’ royal advisor and Soleil’s ex, in his heartbreak when he saves Pera from being poisoned. He gets into an enemies to lovers with Pera’s assassin named Astraea. Then the third book features the antagonist as the main character Nova and she kidnaps Viyan, a co-worker of sorts with Astraea in order to get revenge. Then I have a secondary series featuring all 4 of Peracles’ brothers with love interests. Also a prequel that’s a sapphic tragedy with Peracles mother and her own general.

Then my second oldest OCs named Prudence and Narada. It’s another sci-fi fantasy series. Prudence is a part of a faction that has the power to get into another persons mind and read it and control it. A long time ago her faction was deemed too dangerous to stay alive so they made them extinct. And for over 100 years they’ve been living in secret and pulling the strings of their entire world Janeus. Her coven sees into the future and ensures fate stays on course. So they kill the emperor of one of the empires so that his son takes over: Narada. Prue goes there, hiding her eyes as their powers are revealed through eye color. And she successfully manipulates him but they fall for each other along the way and she ends up betraying her coven and revealing herself and their plan for the young emperor. Prue is convinced that she can fix things and manipulate fate all on her own but their world slowly begins to perish and she realizes her mistake. When she gets a “chosen one” prophecy with herself as the one to defeat, she learns to accept fate and that you can’t control it as she thought.

More include a fae hunter x fae lord that’s kinda similar to Lion King 2: Simba’s Pride lol, two demons and a human working at a casino and underground fighting ring that helps them hide from the world when their pasts catch up to them, and a biblical apocalypse where the world is split into the seven deadly sins and the Lord of Greed and a man working for the Lord of Lust inadvertently work to bring the second coming of Christ.

And I’m sure there’s even more that I’ve forgotten or that have slipped my mind!! I have so many plots in my head that it’s hard to focus on any of them lol.

[shieldofiron]

Vibe Check Part 6

The Party Never Dies

The Frat Boy Au

Read Previous on Ao3 or tumblr.

Beer tastes like ash when Steve is mad at him. He says he isn’t but there’s something about the way he’s acting, the way he always has his head in his phone now, hardly wants to hang out… it’s driving Billy crazy.

But beer is beer and the bass is heavy and he’s looking at Jason Carver wondering how he didn’t see it.

Jason is dancing with Eddie Munson and girls Eddie procured from nowhere, part of an endless parade. Tinashe is pounding from the speakers, and a girl is grinding against Carver’s jeans and he looks just sort of vaguely embarrassed by the whole thing. his hands keep jumping around the girl’s body like he’s not sure what to do with himself.

Munson is cackling, conjuring another girl out of thin air, and he doesn’t seem to notice Carver’s discomfort at all, which explains one thing at least.

Carver was still awfully bold leaving the lube and hardcore dvd out in his bedside table with his loudmouth of a roommate. But Munson probably knows. Has to know, right?

It would explain why Carver doesn’t seem to care about Munson’s girlfriend, if Munson is covering for his secret too. Billy hasn’t seen Carver on the apps but he seems like a real one trick pony so he probably has some secret boyfriend.

Billy’s not sure if he wants to do anything about it yet, but he also isn’t sure he wants to do nothing either. It’s not like Steve is around to talk to anymore, not really.

Billy drifts away from the dance floor back to the kitchen where Steve is holding court. He has a huge bucket out, like the sort you might wash a large dog in, and he’s pouring in bottles with reckless abandon. A little of this, little of that. He turns to Billy, and the smile on his face falls off.

Steve brought a girl. Or this girl has been hanging around him, Billy can’t say. She sidles up to Billy now, eyes curious.

“Can I get you another?” She asks.

He frowns, “Isn’t that my line?”

She blinks at him, “come on, it’s no bother.”

He downs the rest of his beer and shrugs, handing his bottle over.

She half climbs around Steve’s mess of bottles, hand lingering on his shoulder. She doesn’t look like Steve’s usual type, black polished chipped on her fingers, smudge-y liner around her blue eyes. But she’s pretty. Billy’s certainly not going to start picking her apart now, or he won’t be able to stop. This used to be Billy’s job, back when Steve gave him the time of day.

The thought occurs for the five hundredth time. That Steve knows. That he’s sensed something and is just too nice to say it, doesn’t want to out Billy. But they can’t go on like this.

Or to be more accurate, Billy can’t go on like this. His palms itch. He’s sweaty and out of place in his own kitchen, with his own supposed best friend.

He turns and leaves, ignoring the girl’s squawk when he does.

He stalks over to the dance floor, “Hey, Carver!”

Jason’s head whips up from where he’s looking at Munson grind with two girls.

“Stevie needs more supplies. You sober enough to drive me?”

Carver frowns but nods, whispering something to the girl he was dancing with and patting her rather awkwardly on the arm, like a stereotypical dad at a barbecue.

Billy has never been so happy to leave a party. They head out towards Carver’s truck, and he dutifully starts up, staring his left turn signal to turn towards the closest liquor store. A Christian rock station is playing quietly, and Billy switches it off as soon as Carver looks up at the road.

“No,” Billy says. “Go straight.”

The irony of those words isn’t lost on him, but Carver just nods along.

“Does he need something from Meijer?”

“No. We’re going to the Cottonmouth.”

“What’s that?” Carver asks after a beat too long.

“Come on man. You looked like God’s weakest soldier out there.”

Carver’s eye twitches. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Well I do. Because. Because,” Was he really doing this? “Because if I have to see Steve hang out with that Robin girl one more second I’m going to go batshit.”

Carver whips his head around, “you’re serious?”

“Yeah, I’m fuckin’ serious. I wanna go to the Cottonmouth and I wanna dance with like five twinks at least, and I think only you or Argy would go with me.”

Carver’s eye twitches again. “Yeah. Ok, I can do that. Fuck yeah.”

“That won’t get you in trouble with a boyfriend or anything?”

Carver doesn’t move his eyes off the road, but rolls his fingers on the wheel. “Not tonight.”

Billy nods. “You want me to sober up for the drive home?”

Carver shrugs. “Or we get shithouse drunk and call someone for a ride home. I have a title on the mechanical bull, I get a free drink whenever I go.”

“Bullshit you do.”

“Check it if you don’t believe me.”

“How have I never seen you there?”

Carver shrugs. “I was thinking the same thing.”

They both seem to hold a breath for a second, and then break into a slightly nervous laugh.

“How’d you know?�� Carver asks, grin still on his face.

“Now don’t shit a brick but I was in your room lookin’ for my weed and I saw your nightstand.” Billy cringes. “But then I just started looking closer. I don’t know how I missed it.”

“Don’t know what you mean,” Carver smirks. “I’ll have you know I’m totally masc.”

“Please. You just have fraternity letters on,” Billy laughs. “You really have a boyfriend? Do I know him?”

“It’s complicated.”

“Is that an answer to the boyfriend or the knowing him?”

Carver just shrugs. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“Just trying to figure out if I need to stop you from going home with someone tonight. Do I?”

Carver glances at Billy as they stop at a light. “Do I have to stop you?”

“No way, man. I’m going home with someone tonight come hell or high water.”

Carver just nods. “Unless I show off my mechanical bull skills. No one will look twice at you.”

“You’re on, Carver. And I’m beating that record tonight.”

Carver just scoffs. “You wish.”

[yeonboy]

𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐲 ♡ choi beomgyu.

He aches to be the one you would have snuck off with; to be the one you would want to share secret kisses with. He aches. And in that moment, he realizes his feelings have gone too far. They have caused him to stop being a true well-wisher to you; he is being selfish. He needs to take a step back. Or, Choi Beomgyu is head over heels in love with his best friend – and she simply doesn’t feel the same. 

❧ choi beomgyu x f. reader | 16+ | college!au ♡ best friends!au ♡ unrequited love!au ♡ angst ♡ drama.

❧ 4.7 k words

❧ warnings! profanity, an extreeeeeme amount of pining, one-sided feelings, unrequited love, jealousy, heartbreak, some self-deprication, one (1) mention of drinking and partying, one (1) mention of making out, maybe an innuendo or two! mostly just buckets full of mopey, pining gyu </3 and a hopeful (?) ending (:

❧ note! i wrote this because i was listening to m5’s whiskey and crying and thinking of gyu so take that how u will </3 please note that the lyrics are there just to set the tone, not to be taken too literally. i just love this song, man. please don’t hate me for the ending, i changed it thrice and then settled on this. it just felt perfect to me this way :”) also! pls excuse the lack of dividers, tumblr won't let me add them without hiding the post from the tags for some reason :/

❧ masterlist | inbox ⁘

i never knew that love was blind; till i was hers and she was never mine…

“So, I have a question for you.”

Beomgyu blinks at your words, letting the steel straw escape his lips as you pull his strawberry milkshake away from him. 

In fascination, he watches the way your lips wrap around the shiny tube in the exact place where his own had been. You slurp once and pull away, leaving a tint of pink – pinker than the drink, pinker than Beomgyu’s cheeks, pinker than the love-goggles that are permanently on his eyes when he’s with you – on the edge of the straw.

“Gyu?”

He wants to wipe that pink away with his lips, so bad. But your hand comes in with a tissue to clean that precious speck of your lipstick away, before he can even blink a second time.

Now he blinks again and looks up at you. God, you’re so gorgeous with your brows all furrowed and lips all pouty. He is so thoroughly ruined by you. Why does he continue to subject himself to this torture instead of keeping his distance like a sane person? 

He doesn’t fucking know.

“Y–yeah? What question?”

“A hypothetical one. Very important, nonetheless.” You stare into space with your eyes squinted, perfect cheekbones reflecting the light from the evening traffic beyond the glass walls of the cafe you’re seated in. “If long time BFFs happen to develop feelings for each other, should they confess?”

Beomgyu chokes on air, freezing like a solid block of ice.

What did you just ask?

“You know… Just imagine! Two people who have been the best of friends for ages. And then one of them realizes they’re in love with the other.” Your rounded eyes turn to him with a hint of worry in them. “Should they confess and live their dream? Or should they take this secret to their grave and protect their friendship?”

Beomgyu is a mess. 

Why the actual hell are you asking him that? Him – the one guy in your entire life that doesn’t have to imagine this specific situation because he’s been living it for years, now?

Now, he’s not panicking because he thinks you might have figured him out and are trying to pave a path to confession. No, he's self-aware enough to not be deluded. And his panic kinda stems from this very fact. 

He's self-aware enough to know that while he's looking at you and daydreaming of a picket fence and good-morning kisses, your mind is stuck on someone else. Choi Soobin. Older than him, taller than him, cuter than him. Guy checks all boxes of the type of guys you like so well, Beomgyu wonders if Soobin is the reason why you created those boxes in the first place.

So he's scared out of his mind that you're paving a road to confess to Soobin.

“Wow, aren’t you super helpful this evening?”

Your whine of frustration pulls him out of his spiral. He clears his throat and shrugs his shoulders. “I don’t know, man. That’s a very subjective question.”

“Subjective?” You tilt your head in thought and Beomgyu dreads the next words you would say before you have even formed them: “Okay, let me answer it subjectively first then! Like, imagine if you had feelings for me. I wouldn't want you to confess them to me, like, ever.”

Ouch. Not that he plans to ever confess them to you, but still pretty ouch.

Slightly hurt, he drags his milkshake back to himself and slurps away the rest of it before smacking his lips and shaking his head. “Well then subjectively, it’s the complete opposite for me.”

You look at him with an extremely confused frown. “But what if I lose the friendship because you don't feel the same?” 

This hypothesis is making him lose his damn mind. 

“I… well, what if we lose the chance to be something much more amazing just because you were scared?”

Moment of introspection: he hopes to all the powers in the universe that he isn’t losing the chance to be something much more amazing with you just because he’s scared. You don’t like him like that, you won’t ever like him like that. 

He’s being smart and self-preservative. Not scared.

You're lost in thoughts for a moment, and then you suddenly get up with a jump. Grinning at him, you lean down to peck his cheek and rush out of the cafe before he can even fully absorb the warm brush of your lips against his skin. “You're the best, Gyu, thank you so much!”

In a daze, he brings his fingertips to brush against the apple of his cheek. 

Why did you run away like that? Why did you sound so excited? Fuck, are you going to confess right now? 

He pulls his fingertips away. 

They are pink.

yeah i was reckless, but i let it burn; i let it burn, yeah…

“And if they show up hand-in-hand, then what? Then what, huh, Tyun? It’s easy for you to say I’m overthinking, but you aren’t thinking nearly enough!”

Kang Taehyun, the university’s Student Council member who is in-charge of overseeing the set-up for tomorrow's inter-uni basketball game – and also Beomgyu’s best friend of fifteen years – rolls his eyes so hard, it’s a wonder they don’t fall out of their sockets.

“Why do you keep setting yourself up for more pain, man? Why don't you try to invest these emotions somewhere they will be appreciated?”

“I can't just compel myself to start or stop feeling, dude…”

Shin Ryujin suddenly appears behind the bleachers that the two of them were covering with a banner, both hands planted in the back pockets of her jorts. They should look incredibly lame, but she somehow pulls them off. 

Beomgyu looks at her with wide eyes, wondering how much she heard.

“Yo, dumbass! Are you coming to the game tomorrow?” She’s smirking at him but there's a sparkle in her eyes that makes him chuckle at the name. 

“The name's Beomgyu.”

“That's what I said. So, are you coming?”

Beomgyu has actually been trying to think of an excuse to get out his regular movie night with you - and this sounds like the perfect one. He shrugs a shoulder. “Don’t really got any plans, so… Maybe I will.”

Taehyun gives him a weird look because he knows Beomgyu always had plans on Fridays.

Ryujin grins wide. “Perfect! Well, just two requests.”

He squints with interest. “What requests?”

“Wear my jersey! And, uh, don’t bring a date, please?”

She looks extremely bashful while saying the second part of the sentence. Which is somewhat jarring. It’s Shin fucking Ryujin, she eats men for breakfast. Why is she almost blushing?

But then Taehyun is cackling, which reminds Beomgyu of the first request she made. He immediately scowls. “Hey! I’m not wearing your jersey like some groupie!

She rolls her eyes, but her lips are quirked up because he didn’t say no to the second request. And he knows he won’t; you're the only one he ever asks to accompany him to places, and he's only going to the game tomorrow to escape you. 

“Your loss. Just so you know, boys are lining up to wear my jersey…”

Scoffing, Beomgyu goes back to handing Taehyun more pins. “Yeah right.”

“What? You don’t believe me?” Ryujin scoffs. “Watch this - ayo, Heeseung! Wanna wear my jersey tomorrow?”

A screech from the Students Council’s Vice Prez is followed by a high-pitched: “For real? Yes, please, I—” 

“Sike! Haha, gotcha, little bitch!”

Taehyun is doubled over in laughter and even Beomgyu can’t hold in his chuckles at the look of utter devastation on Heeseung’s face and victory on Ryujin’s. She raises an eyebrow when their gazes meet. “See?”

“How much did you pay him for this skit?”

She smacks his shoulder with an irritated whine. “You’re way too fucking cynical for no damn reason, dude. Okay, no jersey - but get a no. 17 placard for me, at least?” 

Rolling his eyes, he finally nods. 

“Great! See ya tomorrow, loser! Bye, Tyun!”

Taehyun waves at her as she leaves, while Beomgyu cups his hands around his mouth to yell out: “The name’s Beomgyu!”

“That’s what I said!”

“Man, it’s been so long since I’ve seen you actually enjoy talking to a girl.” 

Offended to his very bones, Beomgyu gapes at his best friend. “Dude! I enjoy talking to girls! I’m straight! Or did you forget how I threw up that one time when you kissed me during spin-the-bottle in seventh gra—”

“Yes, I remember!” Taehyun smacks him with a scowl on his face. “But that’s not what I meant. Gyu, you only ever talk to Y/N. Or have you not realized that? And look absolutely lovesick and physically pained while doing that.”

“Nahhhh, untrue. It’s just—” He cuts himself off to purse his lips. Taehyun is one-hundred percent correct. “It’s just a little difficult to mask my emotions all the time, but I manage…”

Taehyun just shakes his head in obvious disappointment. Then he tilts his chin up towards the direction where Ryujin is laughing around with some girls from the cheer team. “She obviously likes you a lot. Don’t hurt her.”

“I won’t,” he mumbles, lips forming a pout because this is so confusing. “But isn’t she basically signing up for the hurt if she’s doing this despite knowing where I stand with Y/N?

“Just…” Taehyun sighs. “Yeah, just don’t give her false hope.”

Beomgyu feels like he’s giving himself false hope every single time he talks to you, but what can be done.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

You end up texting him first, that night, to cancel tomorrow’s movie night. You apparently have “plans” with a friend. 

Bile rises up Beomgyu’s throat at the thought of you finally going on a date with Soobin. 

He can’t get himself to directly ask if that is the case, but fuck, why won’t you tell him? He goes to sleep with a pain in his chest that night.

the feeling it was bittersweet, realizing i was in too deep…

As fate would have it, Beomgyu bumps into you at the very gates of the basketball stadium, the next evening. You look like a dream in your short skirt and varsity jacket.

He feels nauseous at the thought of discovering Soobin trailing behind you with a large drink with two straws, or something.

“Uh… these are your plans?” He says in a way of greeting.

Your eyes widen when you see him, but then you pout. “Yeah! Why didn’t you tell me you were gonna be here? We would’ve come together!”

He immediately thinks of his promise to Ryujin and shakes his head. “Ah, actually… Shin Ryujin invited me.” 

Your mouth forms an O, a lost expression crossing your face. He’s never been great at reading people, but with the way his brain gets fuzzy around you, he’s doing an even worse job right now. Because he can absolutely not tell what this look on your face means. 

Right then, the girl herself arrives, a wistful smile on her face. “Thought I told you to not bring a date? And she’s wearing Chaewon’s jersey, hmph.”

“Oh! We didn't—”

You cut him off with a chuckle that somehow sounds a little strained. “Ah, I’m actually here with her sister!” 

Yunjin? He didn’t know you were friends with her… But that means no Soobin, right? Which might mean that no confession happened yesterday?

“Dude, Chaewon’s our Forward and our captain. No hard feelings!” Ryujin throws up a peace sign at you, and the two girls laugh.

After you leave to look for Yunjin, Ryujin stays back, smirking at him. But there’s a distinct look in her eyes that he can, for a change, recognize. Partly because the fuzz in his brain left along with you. And partly because he sees this look in the mirror everyday. 

“I don’t even stand a chance, do I?” She doesn’t sound upset, just… regretful.

Taehyun’s words come back to him. “Ryu, I—” 

“Nah, it’s fine. I knew what I was getting into, Choi.” She smiles, this time, pointing at the ‘17’ placard in his hands. “I’m gonna score a basket just for this, though. Cheer loudly, ’kay?”

she was a lesson – i had to learn, i had to learn, yeah…

Beomgyu had gone to the game only for Ryujin, not for you. He literally came here to escape movie night with you.

Yet, he sits in the stadium with his eyes straying from Ryujin’s great moves as Point Guard, reaching across the court, to land on you. It’s so annoying and makes him feel so helpless, he wants to scream. But there’s something magnetic about your presence that just won’t let him exist peacefully.

Is this how love is supposed to feel? Exhausting and painful at all times?

What adds to the exhaustion and pain is the way you are seated with your eyes bright and teeth on display, Yunjin on one side and…Soobin on the other. 

Though he saw it coming, Beomgyu still finds it really hard to swallow the pain that pricks at his throat at the sight of you giggling into Soobin’s side and looking at the guy with eyes full of a million stars. He tries to seek comfort in the way Soobin seems to reciprocate your happiness, but it’s really hard.

He isn’t even jealous at this point, he’s just tired. If he could stop himself from feeling so much, all the damn time, he really, really would.

The crowd suddenly cheers, drawing his attention away from you – thankfully – and back to the court. And then his eyes widen in surprise. Ryujin stands with her hands braced on her hips, gaze directly directed at him. Well – she said she would score a basket for him and she did. She lifts a hand to point at him, causing a louder cheer to roar across the stadium, and Beomgyu cannot hold back the loud chuckle that escapes him. He raises both his hands up in a double thumbs-up.

Somewhere from three rows below, Heeseung shouts out an expletive at him, but the game has resumed again so everyone around the guy asks him to shut up.

Like clockwork, Beomgyu’s gaze slowly floats back up at the stands, slowly zeroing in towards your seat – only to stop short. You’re not in your seat. And neither is Soobin.

Oh.

Oh.

Now again, Beomgyu should be prepared to face this as well. But he’s once again at a loss.

Unwittingly, his brain conjures up images of you and Soobin finding a secluded, dark corner to make out in. He envisions the brightness he just saw in both of your gazes, imagines the tinkling giggles you would release, pictures the darkening of your cheeks. 

And in that moment, he can’t find it in himself to be happy for you. He can’t pretend to like Soobin. 

He aches to be the one you would have snuck off with; to be the one you would want to share secret kisses with.

He aches.

And in that moment, he realizes his feelings have gone too far. They have caused him to stop being a true well-wisher to you; he is being selfish.

He needs to take a step back.

i used to try to forget her…

“Dude, the one thing I asked of you was to not hurt Ryujin. What the hell do you mean you’re taking her out?” 

Beomgyu pinches the bridge of his nose, almost regretting disclosing his plans to his best friend. But he needed Taehyun to be on his side to make sure he doesn’t chicken out. Although given the tone the guy is using with him right now, Beomgyu’s purpose might be failing either way. 

He puts his phone on loudspeaker, extracting a jacket from his closet to match the blue t-shirt he’s wearing.

“She was awarded MVP for yesterday’s game for the first time in this season. When I congratulated her on it, she called me her lucky charm—”

“Ugh, it’s as if she wants you to hurt her,” Taehyun murmurs and Beomgyu can hear the grimace in his voice through the phone.

“So I asked her if she wanted to celebrate the win with her lucky charm, and she said yes…”

Taehyun gives a sigh. “You literally flirted with her.”

“I did. Weren’t you the one telling me I should focus my feelings where they will be reciprocated?”

“Yes, you should. But do you even feel anything?”

“I do, yeah…” Immense sadness and despair with a brush of frustration. “I feel like I’m gonna have a good time with her.”

“Yeah, I don’t doubt that.” Taehyun gives another sigh. “Just be smart, okay? Don’t lead her on, Gyu.”

“I won’t, man.”

Settling on a black denim jacket that goes with his jeans and boots of the same color, Beomgyu leaves his dorm in the half a decade old Corvette his parents have permitted him to keep on campus. He’s meeting Ryujin at the cafe, which saves him from spending time in the car with her.

When he enters the cafe, though, Beomgyu begins to wonder if he has somehow offended some higher, superior power by some action of his, for which he is now being punished on the daily.

Because before he can even begin to look around for his date, a giggling Soobin catches his eye. He’s sitting facing the door, feeding spaghetti to his date. 

His date.

You.

Your back is to him, but Beomgyu can still see how you’ve styled your hair in a way that is different than usual. You’ve always complained that your hair is too silky to be held up in an updo—a remark Beomgyu can never understand because he, personally, loves the texture of your hair—and so this complicated bun feels so strange on you.

And the off-shoulder dress instead of your beloved full-sleeves. And the dangling earrings instead of your usual studs. And—

Holy fuck, this isn’t you.

This isn’t you.

Beomgyu is fully frozen in his spot now, stunned and panicked at the same time.

Soobin is on a date – with someone else.

Should he be happy or concerned? 

The sweat accumulating on his palms indicates the latter. 

“Gyu!”

The call snaps his attention to a corner of the cafe, where Shin Ryujin sits with a grin on her face. Pushing his lips up, he waves at her. But his eyes involuntarily swim back to Soobin once more – only this time, both the taller boy and his date, Kim Chaewon, the basketball captain, are looking at Beomgyu with matching smiles.

He doesn’t know how to respond. Or react. His smile is frozen on his lips and his hand is still up in a wave, however, so the couple take that to be his greeting and go back to talking among themselves. And Beomgyu pushes himself to finally walk towards Ryujin’s table.

“I see you already spotted what I was dying to gossip about,” Ryujin grumbles with a scowl when he settles opposite her. 

Beomgyu blinks. “Uh… Soobin?”

“Who?” This time Ryujin is the one to give a clueless blink. But then her eyebrows rise. “Oh, the boy. Yeah, in a way, I guess? But Chaewon, obviously. She’s finally on a date with her crush of a whole ass year.”

What? “O–oh?”

The waiter comes over to take their orders, right then. Beomgyu asks for a club sandwich and beer, while Ryujin chooses an extra cheese loaded pizza and a virgin mojito.

“You don’t want me drunk around you, loser.” She winks at him but her smile is forced enough to make guilt unfurl in Beomgyu’s chest. “Anyways! Chaewon! She’s finally winning at life and it’s all thanks to your girl.”

Beomgyu’s heart jumps up to his throat for multiple reasons.  

His girl? You? Who else could it even be.

He drily swallows. “My…?”

“She was so hard at work during yesterday’s match! Fuck knows what magical words she said to both of them but they finally stopped their cat and mouse chase for good.” A fond look enters Ryujin’s gaze as she peeks past him to look at the couple. “It was sickening, watching Chaewon pine day in and out. Kinda like it is to watch you.”

Ryujin is laughing at her own joke, but Beomgyu’s mind is stuck on the information she just imparted. “Yesterday’s match?”

“Yeah. She arrived with Yunjin, remember? They both sat with Soobin and talked about Chaewon the entire time. Then she said something to Chae during break, and boom – this scardy ass dude was finally asking Chae out at the end of the match!”

Oh, fuck. This is why you were sitting with Soobin yesterday.

You were setting him up with Chaewon. 

This is probably why you have been hanging out with the guy and generally interacting so much with him recently as well.

Wait, was this why you asked him that question about having feelings for a best friend? As far as his general university knowledge goes, Chaewon and Soobin have been best friends since before college.

Oh fuck, indeed.

Beomgyu really blew things out of proportion and let his overthinking mind carry him away.

“Speaking of – when do you plan to confess, Choi?”

Beomgyu scoffs at the question. “Never.”

Ryujin looks genuinely confused at the response. “What? Why?”

“She doesn’t feel the same, Ryu. And she’s my best friend. I can’t risk it.”

“How do you know she doesn’t feel the same?”

That’s – an odd question. One that Beomgyu feels like should be very obvious to answer, but when he opens his mouth to do just that, he has to shut it back again. Because ‘I just know’ is going to sound as stupid out loud as it does in his head. 

But then what else does he have? He thought you had feelings for someone else but that was obviously not the case. 

“I… I mean isn’t it obvious? She would’ve hinted at it… said anything at all if she felt anything…”

The moment Ryujin narrows her eyes and clicks her tongue, he knows he messed up. “Like you have? You’re sitting on your hands, too, dumbass. Does she even know that you don’t go on dates?”

“I’m on a date right now.”

“Keep talking like that and you’ll leave this date with a black eye.”

The waiter arrives with their food, and as Ryujin dives right in, Beomgyu takes a moment to actually think about what the girl has been saying.

You not having feelings for someone else doesn’t automatically imply that you’ve suddenly stopped viewing Beomgyu platonically. Which is why he doesn’t want to suddenly drop his plans of moving on and go back to pining over you.

He wishes for this to be a smooth transition – getting rid of his romantic feelings for you while also staying friends. But if he pays mind to what Ryujin just said, he will block this way for himself.

Because the moment he confesses, it will be a one-way street. You’ll never talk to him again and he’ll be too embarrassed to even show you his face.

Now, of course, he isn’t even considering what could happen if you actually ended up reciprocating – because he’s done enough of that for years now and he’s honestly… tired.

Loving you, as he has concluded time again, is painful and exhausting. He just wants to be happy again.

“How about you stop giving me love advice and start looking for someone new to crush on?” Beomgyu raises an eyebrow at Ryujin, who picks up an olive from her pizza to throw at his face with a scowl.

But then when she dissolves into giggles, sprinkling her happiness and beauty all over him, Beomgyu has to pause to wonder if she doesn’t actually need to look for someone new to crush on.

He offers to drop her off at the end of the date and Ryujin thanks him for the treat. His hands feel a little clammy when she grins at him with a tilt of her head, short hair flying up with the wind.

“Will… will I see you again?”

“Uh, yeah? You see me everyday, dumbass.” Ryujin gives a chuckle but it doesn’t sound natural.

“No, I mean – like this. On a date.”

Her shoulders deflate and her smile leaves her face. Pursing her lips, she looks at him in what could only be defined as disappointment. “This wasn’t a date, Beomgyu. And I won’t be your rebound.”

He’s not asking her to be – except, maybe he is. He doesn’t know anymore.

She seems to know more than him because she gives him another one of those wry smiles of hers and pats his shoulder. “Tell her how you feel and get out of this stupid limbo. I can be your shoulder to cry on, but not a heart to play with. Good night, loser.”

He truly feels like a loser when she walks away from his car.

but now i smile when i remember.

Beomgyu has heard people talk a great deal about ‘right person, wrong time’ or ‘wrong person, right time’, but he has never felt the gravity of it the way he does now.

You’re sitting on the bleachers with Lee Heeseung and giggling your heart away like he’s the funniest man alive. Heeseung, to his credit, is looking at you with a sparkle in his eyes that rivals the entire galaxy.

And as Beomgyu watches the scene from next to the water dispenser in a discrete corner, the bottom of his stomach feels strangely calm. 

It’s been a week since he had that confrontation with Ryujin. He didn’t exactly take her advice and run to confess to you, but he certainly did drop hints. And he certainly did observe your reactions.

At the end, he ruefully finds himself exactly where he always has been – watching you offer your affections to someone else from afar.

“How long has he been keeping this in?” he asks around a scoff when Heeseung shows you some magic trick and gloats in your excited clapping.

Taehyun hums as he screws the lid of the water dispenser tight and dusts his hands off to come stand next to Beomgyu. “Fuck knows. I think he’s always smiled a little too brightly at her whenever—oh my God, did you see that? Butterfingers! I could see that card from here. Making a joke out of the best card trick in the books!”

Beomgyu laughs at his friend’s grumbles. Then he gives a sigh. “She looks happy, doesn’t she?”

���Yeah, she does. But I don’t really think she’s on the same page as Lee. Or even you for that matter.” Taehyun settles on the ground and Beomgyu follows his lead. “She’s enjoying her college days like a normal uni student. And maybe you should too, Gyu. Enough of this pining, enough of being in love. Don’t you want to get drunk off your ass and makeout with some ditzy freshman at a party?”

Beomgyu’s horror must show on his face because Taehyun snorts when their eyes meet. 

“Okay, maybe not all of it. But… we’re young, buddy. You’ll have plenty of time to fall in love. Hopefully this time with someone who loves you more?”

Beomgyu watches the way you lean closer to Heesung to whisper something in his ear, and as the guy’s cheeks grow red in response, he frowns to himself. 

“What about all those times when she seemed jealous? Or upset I wasn’t paying attention to her?”

“Dude, for real?” Taehyun punches his shoulder. “You get like that too when I’m not available at your every beck and call.”

Beomgyu slowly exhales, leaning back on his palms and tilting his head up to let the sunlight wash over his face.

He really is stepping out of his delusions, this time.

You don't like him like that. You don't have feelings for him.

You and him are going to remain just friends.

He's finally ready to face the fact and move forward.

“Yo, loser! Wanna play catch?”

He’s smiling even before he has opened his eyes. Taehyun clears his throat in an exaggerated way with his eyebrows raised. “Never seen you grin that brightly in a while, my man…”

He looks around towards the source of the voice, his grin turning into laughter at the evil gleam in Ryujin’s eyes as she hurtles the basketball towards him.

Somehow managing to catch it with an enraged gasp, Beomgyu wastes no time in chasing the girl with it.

Somewhere in his peripheral vision, he notices the way you have cuddled up with Heesung and how the two of you are laughing at his antics with Ryujin.

When he briefly meets your eye, you give him a thumbs up with your grin.

And for the first time in years, he is able to smile back at you without an ounce of pain in his heart.

and i was so young till she kissed me like a whiskey… like a whiskey.

FIN.

© yeonboy 2023 // do not steal, copy or repost. respect your local content creators, kaythanks.

[hheartsdramas]

I guess this tumblr is just me documenting my live reactions as I watch dramas, here’s inside my head while watching the last 4 episodes of Blossom:

Ep 31

is her dad the biggest idiot on this show or a secret scheming mastermind?

ugh I thought we were shot of Lady Wei when her brother died

and why did Ji Yong have to go evil?? naughty boy and not in the fun way *shakes finger at Ji Yong*

the emperor sucks, I can’t wait for him to die

I don’t know what to think of Ji Yong anymore. like he’s keeping Dou Zhao safe but the way things have gone I can’t put it past him to let Song Mo die

this episode made me so angry, I want to smack so many smirks off of so many faces

Ep 32

Dou Zhao’s dad’s backbone always grows only when its way too late to really matter

I literally squealed “PUPPY!” because I am a cliche

oh god whatever this substance is I hope Song Mo can hold onto his sanity and stab Evil Eunuch Guy in the face

do you think spitting blood is written into every studio contract? what happens if an actor or director wants to try conveying illness/injury some other way?

this dream sequence!!!!

grandma’s back! girl where have you been shit’s been going down and could use a little matriarch smack down energy

did anyone else notice that the moon isn’t magically full in this episode? doesn’t actually matter to anything but it makes me laugh to notice what the moon does in cdramas

are they trying to make uncle out to be a good guy? a double agent of some sort? I don’t understand and I don’t buy it. he’s horrible and deserved a much shittier death

honestly this version of house arrest looks divine

Ep 33

I’m glad An Su has finally started recognizing that the flags are RED red but I fear t won’t end well for her

why do poisoned emperors always put things together when they’re about to die and not, like, the one of the first five times their wives smile evilly at them?

ohhhhhh okay so empress does have a backstory and now I totally support women’s wrongs. kill that rotten man!

this idiot emperor I—

how do you make taking medicine romantic? well you make one of them dying and delirious and the other trying to save them by doing mouth-to-mouth delivery of the medicine. like with a baby bird.

I’ve decided the white hair is hot, but it’s more that he’s hotter the less put together he looks. cuz this “I’ve been delirious but got tumbled by my wife” look with all the tendrils is a good one

there have been so many tertiary dude characters in this show I don’t even remember who this Gu Yu is or why he cares about Song Mo or why he’s easily convinced to commit treason

wait! Dou Zhao what are you doing there, this is so obviously a trap I can’t even

well this was obviously a trap, I shouldn’t have doubted…or should I have? oh no, I shouldn’t have

except that’s a lot of soldiers

FINALLY someone stabbed Evil Eunuch Guy!!!

are Song Mo’s soldiers wielding…trees? what am I looking at?

okay folks final episode!!!

so Ji Yong didn’t go evil? phew that’s a relief

damn that acupuncture point must really be something else

“kindly return” in Dou Zhao’s letter to the crown prince is honestly peak comedy

I’m sorry did you see that man duck because he somehow KNEW his wife was about to save his ass? destined for sure

Song Mo that punishment is DIABOLICAL my jaw DROPPED

“do you really want to leave me?” sir you are old and an idiot and his wife is beautiful and puts out. it’s really no contest

OH FUCK YEAH AN SU!! (I guess this is supposed to be emotional but honestly I feel bad exactly zero amount)

the emperor gave him the antidote? wait ARE YOU TELLING ME THAT AWFUL MAN HAD THE CURE THE WHOLE TIME

ohhhhhhhh. *grumble* I still don’t like him

I’m honestly surprised that we weren’t all terrified when we found out Dou Zhao was pregnant because with genes like that any child would be an absolute terror (affectionate)

personal headcanon: An Su and Official Su are girlfriends. (took til the last episode to find a decent sapphic ship but I’ll take it)

and they all live happily ever after yayyyyyyyy

I had a great time with this drama! Nothing spectacular or awe-inspiring, but highly entertaining and beautiful to look at with a satisfying ending, plus a well-matched, drama-free main couple. I’m glad MZY and LYR are getting their due for it!

[itsnotablogsblog]

NOAH CONTROVERSY JUST GOT WORSE - FANS EXPOSE SECRETS - RUMORS OF JORDAN AND POPPY DATING BUT NOT NOAH

Well uh. I see things are going a bit differently.

Hello, and welcome back to another tea rant.

Today we will delve into this topic of anons exposing secrets about “Noah’s Lifestyle” or should I say “Hate blogs”

Now don’t come at me because I know these things. I just scroll on Twitter and find spicy tea to tell you all.

Let’s get started :D

FANS EXPOSE TEA BLOG

So for starters. The crap you put online is actually hilarious.

But anyways.

What I don’t get is that many of you seem to have this “obsession” when it comes to Noah.

Why do tea blogs expose these types of secrets? From stating that Noah is “dating poppy”

Even if you do claim you’re actual “fans” why do you have tea blogs stating the opposite? You shit talk about anything when it comes to Noah’s personal life.

Heck even stating to other people that they’re “fans” for disagreeing or “disrespecting” Noah as a person???

It’s actually insane.

You guys are way too obsessed with Noah and it shows.

Even knowing Noah’s life, to knowing what he does and what he doesn’t do.

Well it sure seems like you guys are really hating on this guy, and to say that he’s ugly?

You do realize he’s 29 years old right?

But anyways I think you guys need to chill out and stop spreading misinformation just because he has his own personal life going on.

Even if these anons spread and talk about how Noah is and how Noah acts is ridiculous. It just feels very invasive you know?

But anyways, I’m just here to spill the tea and the drama.

NOAH SEEN HOLDING POPPYS DRESS?? Leading fans to be angry and upset

This leads to my next topic about a fan who recorded Noah at Jimmy Kimmel yesterday.

A lot of that went to Twitter.

To say the reactions of how these fans tweeted out was a lot.

The more I learn about this fandom, the more I see how people take it.

I think it’s more than just obsession over one singer who is in his prime 20’s looks like a hot model and sings very seductively.

I think you guys have it over your heads to be fair.

Why do you want to know about Noah’s life? Why do you guys obsess over him?

You know how invasive and toxic that is to know someone’s personal life? It’s crazy.

The thing that bothers me most though the continuity of poppy “being” in Noah’s life.

DO YOU REALIZE THIS IS ALL JUST A PR STUNT AND NOTHING ELSE FOR GOD SAKES??? NONE OF THIS IS REAL

And here’s The proof

Jordan Fish and Poppy but no NOAH.

Noah’s no where near poppy

This actually makes my heart content

But Jordan Fish hahaha

Prepare yourselves because the drama between anons and bad omens twitter are just beginning

To be fair there’s a lot of tea blogs/hate blogs on tumblr that I am aware of.

It makes me think that you guys just want attention just for wanting to know a certain person. Let me be real for you.

He will never know who you are. Noah doesn’t talk to fans. I don’t think it’s our business to know Noah personally.

We only know what he put online.

Yeah I get it the parasocial thing is obviously annoying.

But do you obviously know that you guys have an unhealthy obsession over Noah Sebastian? A grown man who gets to do the fuck he wants whenever he wants?

It’s obvious we will never know the real Noah. We are all delulu and very romanticized by his persona and public image.

FANS HATING ON NOAH

My only question about this issue is that it started with Poppy.

Noah isn’t ugly.

Poppy is an issue.

Jordan Fish…well I think there might be something there with Poppy.

As of now, since I am just learning about if Jordan is actually dating Poppy, then things might change around.

Something is definitely going on with Poppy. But what though?

In the meantime, this is all Fuckery.

I feel like the issue surrounding Poppy is because she’s a well known person. Which in this case makes me think that she just agrees to everything surrounding projects in the industry.

Let’s start with

EVERYONE IS FOCUSING ON BAD OMENS

Even though, this controversy has lead to Noah being involved with poppy, yes this is all PR.

I think I’m seeing a bigger picture, where not only she has collaborated with Knocked Loose, but she also has collaborated with other bands such as

Avenged Fold, Thirty Seconds to Mars, and more recently SpiritBox

The big question to this is that In this particular fandom fans are way too focused on Noah’s personal life, and how they see poppy as an invasive species that just leaches onto you and sucks the life right out.

I feel as if no one in this fandom enjoys how bad omens collaborated with Poppy or as the anons call “Floppy”

I’m not really surprised.

The issue is definitely that fans are being too focused on Bad Omens.

I think we created an issue that’s been happening since they dropped Violence Against Nature. So much so that we made a small circle in playing “grab the chicken before the chicken runs loose”

Have you guys ever thought about taking a break? I mean all of this sounds mentally draining.

OTHER BANDS WANT TO COLLABORATE

I think Sumerian has something up their sleeve that they’re not telling the audience. Maybe this is all a plan.

But with other bands trying to collaborate with Poppy it seems like Sumerian has something between Poppy and the label.

My only concern or question to this is why have they put Poppy in front of Bad Omens?

WHAT WAS NOAH DOING ON JIMMY KIMMEL?

As you saw, Noah was backstage holding some kind of garment on a hanger.

But what exactly was he doing there to begin with?

It wasn’t for Poppy.

But this also leads to where the other three band members were during this. There was no sign of Ruffilo, no sign of folio or Jolly. Including Matt Dierkes.

Where were they?

We only saw Noah talk to some people, but where was he going?

Also what was Jordan doing at the show??

Let me know your thoughts 💭

I will be updating this as it goes on

[vee-crytraps]

Kiss Me More | Ch 3 | { Eau D'bedroom Dancing}

Chapter Summary: 🔞A curious Robin perches on your windowsill. AN: New to posting fics on Tumblr, feel free to read here or over on Ao3 under the username VenusCrytraps. Same bat time, same bat channel.

{Trigger warning/Themes Masterlist}

I'm in the sky when I'm on the floor The world's a mess and you're my only cure There's no time for me to act mature The only words I know are "more", "more" and "more"

Your phone was still on its charger, and it was definitely not ringing.

You had hoped that the absurdity of your lie and subsequent exit would mean that they would drop their crusade. It would have been par for the course for your family. Despite the fact that you should mostly be out the other side of it, they were used to your teenage drama. While they still certainly cared about you, there was no denying that your troubles, secrets and even lies were likely far from the baseline of what they would consider concerning.

The tension in your shoulders rolls off of you with the sleeves of your robe. The silk pools around your feet, your fingers twitching for the hem of your shirt before you pause. With an annoyed groan, you face your fluttering curtains and the chill breeze that carried them. Your window hadn’t been open a second ago. 

“Damian, I swear to god-“

“Not quite.” Your eldest brother interjects, vaulting over the windowsill. With catlike balance, he perches on it with a stabilizing crouch. He’s wearing that smile again, the one that manages to convey a confidence that he was allowed to invade your personal space in such an insane way, while also boyish and sheepish enough to convince you not to be mad about his assumed welcome.

The wind rustles his slightly damp hair. His eyes glint with the usual mischief, and something else you’d rather not place. He doesn’t move. Just crouches there with his wrists resting on the caps of his knees, a knowing smile on his face.

You may not have the training he does, but you don’t need refined Robin instincts to know that your big brother clearly knows something and was trying to see if you were going to play along.

“So, do you want to talk about it, or are you going to keep acting suspicious?” His attitude is playful and teasing, but there’s something more serious underneath. Something that makes your senses tingle and your stomach flip.

It’s so fucking unfair, to have to witness his athleticism up close. You can see the way his muscles move under his skin as he steps off of the windowsill and into your room, moving from his crouch to lean back against the ledge. He watched you the way he did when you two were younger, with a casualness that was usually reserved between two siblings of the same gender. Like he was expecting you to keep undressing.

If things normal, maybe you would. You would slip off your frilly rich girl pajamas and pad over to your dresser for a department store bra and opaque tights. You could ask him which perfectly pressed skirt went with which blouse, and might even kneel before you and help you slip on a designer shoe with a modest heel. As if he were your own prince charming. But that was before. Before your mouth started going dry at the sight of him applying chapstick. Before the sight of him without a shirt literally made your mouth water. Before the awful ache in your core that refused to go away in the presence of a man you’d known for the majority of your life.

You stand there, your hands hover at the hem of your shirt as you quite visibly weighed the pros and cons of winning this particular game of chicken. Forcing yourself to relax, you casually saunter over him. You refuse to drop your guard, no matter how much worse this could get. Don’t give anything else away. Just because he knows something doesn’t mean that he knows about Jason, and even if he does, he might not be aware of just how far you two went. It’s fine. And probably nothing.

“Don’t you just look like the cat that got the canary.” Crossing your arms over your chest, you lean forward with a look on your face that is all business. “So. What’ll it be?”

Dick is leaning forward enough for you to reach out gently pinch his cheek without much effort. His gaze softens as it meets yours. His eyes are not searching yours, it feels more akin to…gazing, in a way you don’t think you’re ready to unpack. “What’ll what be?” He asks, leaning into your touch.

“The price of your silence.” You hum, flattening your palm against his warm cheek. One of his hands wraps around your wrist to keep it there. His skin is so soft and clear. You’re as jealous as you are charmed.

Laughter bubbles up from the back of his throat, and you do your best to beat back the warmth that wraps around your heart. “How nouveau-riche of you, baby bird,” 

Leaning back up, he allows his fingers to slip, the pads of the warm digits brushing against the sensitive skin inside your wrist on his way to hold your hand. “This guy you’re hooking up with must’ve been pretty good, if you’re being this secretive about him.”

You try not to let the relief you feel manifest on your face. At this point, you’re so full of it, it might as well start coming out of your pores.

“You know what dad is like. We may not be blood related, but he still thinks of me as a little girl. If he finds out I’m hooking up at all, he’ll go on a rampage.”

Removing your hand from his, you run your nails along your scalp. You don’t think you can handle so much direct contact with Dick when he looked at you like this. You try to snuff the building tension by collapsing back onto your bed somewhat dramatically. You bounce.

“I don’t get why that matters to you,” Dick mused, pushing off of the ledge to stand a little taller, and he walks towards you, his toned arms bulging under the sleeves of his well fitting t-shirt as he crossed them. “You’re your own person. You don’t owe him an explanation about your sex life.”

While you’re focused on staring directly into the bulb of your bedroom chandelier, Dick approaches the edge of the bed. He leans forward, looming over you. As he blocks your light, you realize in horror that your attempt to burn out your own retinas is as unsuccessful as it is short lived. You can still make out his gorgeous features. You’re so fucking doomed. He looks at you pointedly and his lips curve into a sly smile. “Oh my God, are you in love?”

The fear that your over dramatic behavior might be communicating something way worse than the actual truth makes you bolt straight up in bed. “I’m not in love! I just…don’t think Bruce would exactly approve, you know?”

Rolling away, you continue your slow speed chase by sitting on the other side of the bed. You begin to unfurl your hair, desperate to focus on anything other than the scent of Dick’s body wash and the way the beads of water in his hair catch the light. “Come on, BB. You used to tell me everything. Who’s got you all twisted up into knots?”

His eyes soften as he watches you, the way your fingers twitched nervously as you unbraid your hair. You don’t give him an answer, and he sighs. The bed dips behind you with the weight of another person. Dick settles behind you and reaches out.

“You know, I could help you with that.” He offers.

His large, warm hands engulf yours and pull them from your tangled nest, and you allow yourself to relax as his fingers help unbraid your hair.

It’s a quiet moment, almost peaceful. You nearly forget why you were tense in the first place as he works at a leisurely speed behind you. It brings back memories of picture days, dance recitals and galas, when Dick would help take your meticulously styled hair down before bed. “You’re still really good at this,” You comment, lost in your head.

“I’m good at a lot of things,” Dick teases, and you cannot help but flush at the joke.

He plucks at your braid, dexterous hands gently teasing and working out the knots that have formed over time. His tone is warm and playful. 

“You know,” Your eyes widen when you feel him lean in from behind, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “We don’t always have to act so…” He pauses, either trying to find the words or savoring the anticipation that builds up within you as you wait for them. Knowing Dick, it’s probably the latter. “Sibling-y.”

He was notorious with flirting. Be it an investor, an interviewer, or you- it never mattered. He often did it to get smiles out of you when you were younger, bringing you trinkets and flowers. Not much has changed since then, as he had always been happy to play the role Bruce had assigned him to- your kind, attentive ‘older brother’. You were used to it. Or rather, you should be used to it. You didn’t know if it was something in the air, or your newfound proclivity for daydreaming of racy subjects- but there was something about this time that felt different. Charged. 

It wasn’t like the usual adorable dynamic you’d cultivated over the years. Even as your childhood crush on him matured. Even as you matured. You wonder what had changed between then and now, unsure if the swell of your breasts and rounding of your hips could truly be so influential. You stare forward, not noticing the way he gently inhaled the scent of your shampoo. 

“How should we act?” You ask, unable to let the silence grow any longer.

“Depends,” He hums, his tone turning from mischievous to almost gentle.

“…On what?” You ask quietly- and far too hopeful. You twiddle your thumbs as you await his answer, but it never comes.

“All done.” Dick says moments later, reluctantly drawing back his hands as he admired his work- your hair sufficiently unbraided and detangled.

The mood doesn’t shift, so you try to force it. Turning towards him, you conjure up a smile that you hope is bright and grateful. “Thanks.”

You don’t expect Dick to pull you into his lap, his hand cupping your jaw from behind. You pout as his fingers press into your cheeks, and he laughs at your expression. 

“Dick,” You whine, and his heart fucking skips.

“After all the work I’ve done, a simple ‘thanks’ is all I get?” It’s not right. He knows that it isn’t, but you’re not the same girl he used to weave flower crowns for. You’re different. Softer. Older. It drives him mad.

“Oh my god. Fine,” You manage to say, though it’s hard with him squeezing your face like this. Dick likes the way you roll your eyes, but he’d much rather see them roll back. 

You know what he wants. Or you think you do. Leaning your head back against his chest, you reach up to grab his face and press a kiss to his cheek. It’s hard to do this while sitting in his lap, with your back to his chest- and you somehow manage to catch the corner of his lips.

If you weren’t a total sicko, you might have just brushed off your terrible aim. But you’re you, and you’re young, and your body is telling your brain to do all sorts of things you might not agree with in hindsight. His hand falls from your face to rest gently on your collarbone, your skin warming under his palm. His free arm is wrapped around your waist, and it tightens imperceptibly. 

Dick leans down, his eyes darkening as he brushes his lips against yours once. Then twice.

Even upside down, in this awkward, god awful position- your eyes are so gorgeous. They seem to almost sparkle with the same hope, confusion and desire that twists inside of him. You haven’t learned to keep your emotions in check. He thinks it’s what he likes most about you. It’s so easy to trust in you, to guess what you’re thinking and how you’re feeling. There’s no manipulating or schooling your expression, because you’re not a hero, an assassin, or a ‘girl-in-the-chair’. You’re just you. Perfect, civilian, you.

He expects you to recoil at his attention, but you don’t. There’s this wistful look in your eyes, as if you were trying to figure out if you were dreaming. And he can’t help but wonder.

Did you dream about him?

Your eyes slip shut as you lean back against him, dropping your chin. His fingers gently play with the ribbon at the neckline of your frilly pajama top. The blue silk end of the thin bow wraps around his index finger, and the fabric slides with the slightest amount of pressure. One twitch of his hand and the bow is undone, the neckline of your shirt falling open to the first pearlescent button.

And you’re sitting there, in silence. Letting him toy with the thought of undressing you.

Dick leans down, this time opting to press his lips against the junction of your neck and shoulder. He savors the way you shudder. How your knuckles turn white as they curl in the material of your shorts.

“Was it a good date, at least?” He mumbles after a long while, breaking the gentle silence.

“Dick,” You sigh. Half pleased, half annoyed. He chuckles against the side of your neck as he continues a trail of experimental kisses. Where at first they seemed feather light, each one began to grow more tangible than the last. You don’t know when the three uppermost buttons of your top came undone, but you know it must have, if you can already feel his lips against your bare shoulder.

“Did he make you come?”

The silence following his bold question rang louder than before. 

“I saw you this morning. Bundling up your dirty sheets and trying to squirrel them away into the washer before Alfred got to them.” Dick explained, his lips moving against your shoulder. “Whoever he is. I know he fucked you.”

You don’t think you’ve ever heard him like this before. Vulgar. Possessive. Dark. “I’m gonna ask one more time, baby bird.” His voice dropped low as his touch settled over your clothed breast. “Did he make you come?”

Wetting your lips with your tongue, you could only nod, unable to join him in breaking the unspoken agreement that had been starting to form between the two of you.

“Hard?” Dick asks, his thumb gently brushing against one of your nipples. The attention makes it peak beneath your thin cotton night shirt.

“What does that even mean?” You ask, chuckling breathlessly at the absurdity of the question. Dick doesn’t join you in laughter as he tweaks your pebbled nipple between his forefinger and thumb.

“Did your toes curl? Did your eyes screw shut?” He nipped at your ear, shifting you in his lap. You don’t think that you’re sitting on his Escrima. “Did you chirp for him, baby bird?”

“I don’t chirp, Dick,” You mumble. The emphasis on his name is a cheap shot, but you’d do just about anything to bury the mixture of embarrassment and arousal that churns within you.

“Oh no?” You should have known better than to challenge him. He presses his nose into your hair as the hand secured around your waist descends over your stomach and downwards, into the waistband of your shorts.

You manage to slap a hand over your mouth, whining into your fingers as his own sample the wetness between your thighs. Even in this moment, you refuse to let him win. It brings a smile to his lips as he kisses your temple. 

“So stubborn,” he tuts. “And yet? So wet.” 

He sinks a finger into you, and he groans softly at the sensation. Another broken moan escapes you, but he doesn’t bother stopping to scold you as he begins to pump his soaked digit in and out of you.

“You can take another, can’t you?” Dick asks softly, now using the same gentle tone from when he was braiding your hair. He whispers praise into your ear as you nod again, and a second finger soon joins the first, sliding into your slippery cunt.

“So good for me, gorgeous.” You were an absolute sight to him, flushed and panting through your fingers as you tried to keep yourself quiet- perhaps holding onto some juvenile sense of plausible deniability, that this would be so much easier to process if you kept it inside. He just knows you’re aching for it. Why else would you be rocking yourself into the palm of his hand? 

Dick wished he could get a good look at you, but your mirror is positioned all wrong and is much too far away. He figures he’ll have to make do with the feeling of your greedy cunt sucking on his warm digits, and the soft wet sounds that fill the room as he fucks you with his fingers a little faster.

“God, you’re so worked up…” The heel of his palm brushes against your throbbing clit, and you chase the friction as much as he’ll let you. Every time you try to jerk towards his hand, he hooks his fingers into a spot that makes you cry out. You barely register the satisfied chuckle that leaves him at his discovery, but you manage to force your ass back against him in retaliation.

The groan that leaves him is one of pure suffering. He’s just dying to be inside you, but he can’t make himself cross that line just yet. 

The sounds you make are downright evil, but he savors them for the cold shower he’s going to have to take after this. He kisses along your flushed shoulders as you begin to shake in his arms, your hands clutching at his working forearm. “D…Dick. Dick, I…Don’t stop. Please. Please-“

“It’s alright, pretty bird. I have you.” He promises, bucking his fingers faster into you. Before long, you’re crying out his name, your lips quivering with the strength of the climax that rolls through you. 

“Fuck. There it is. Good girl.” Dick offers a string of lusty praises against your neck, not daring to remove his fingers until your twitching thighs (mostly) stop. Your eyes are screwed shut as you attempt to catch your breath. Dick draws his fingers to his mouth and sucks on them as if they were covered in honey.

They might as well have been.

“That was amazing, baby bird. I knew you’d sound good for me.” He coos at you some more, telling you how lovely you were for him. How soft and beautiful and tight. You’re just beginning to relax against him when your eyes snap open, another whine escaping you as he dips his fingers back into your soaked core.

“I could listen to you chirp all day.”

There's no fear when I'm in my room It's so clear and I know just what I want to do Eau d'bedroom dancing To you, I wanna say you're my thing...

[buggitino]

2025 predictions cause i just remembered this is MY tumblr account and i can post whatever i want (ft. my husband zandik) (he contributed a lot to this go say thank you @r0wdypuppy)

the leaning tower of pisa finally falls and it IS an american tourists fault

Honey (the web extension) gets a huge class action lawsuit and like 100 other apps/extensions/websites/etc are exposed along with it

trump gets the norovirus

multiple attempts on his life, all getting dangerously close but none succeeding. his god complex and the right wings collective ego gets bigger and bigger with each unsuccessful attempt

elon and trump fight. it starts private but eventually goes public in a way only two celebrities going through a breakup can be made public

elon is deported (probably due to the above) (bonus points if he acts like leaving the country was his idea and that it’s just a big, fun vacation for himself)

trump attempts to buy greenland and sell puerto rico, neither of which go through but the attempt was made

mitch mcconnell dies

mass casualty cybertruck event. bonus points if no recall is made, warranty/insurance is denied for everyone involved, and/or if elon makes excuses as to how it’s user error and not his or the manufacturers fault (much to his PR teams dismay) (or delight, i dont speak for them)

another plague of biblical proportions. bonus points if christians (specifically republican/conservative/MAGA christians) deny it as a sign from god. or bonus points if they accept it as a sign from god but use it as a way of being like “this is because the woke left is ruining our country!!! god is punishing them!!!!!!”

blackface becomes a trend. again. there are absurd defenses made that somehow manage to convince too many POC that what is happening is ok

purity culture makes a comeback. there are pamphlets teaching the “importance of abstinence” handed out in elementary, middle, and high schools. there is a shocking lack of resistence

andrew tate gets caught with a man in some form or fashion. this includes but is not limited to a secret grindr/gay dating app profile, getting caught at a gay bar or club, a man stepping out to talk about his experience being with andrew with nearly impossible to fake and incredibly detailed proof, making a freudian slip during a recording (forgot to edit it out/didn’t notice it), etc

gen alpha goes woke and gen z criticizes them for it

we run out of oil

a game made almost entirely with AI is released. every female character is fanservice. techbro incels have a twitter movement consisting of arguments such as “heh…looks like gaming is back boys….” and “game of the year amiright….”. they do not take any criticism of their beloved game or its developer(s) well, retaliating with threats of physical and sexual violence. the game is dogshit. obviously.

Disney or some other major animation company lays off half of its staff and uses AI script and video generation to make the next movie. it does better than it should have. they’re already planning a series and 5 more AI movies. bonus points if its revealed that the AI was trained on their staff covertly and it doesn’t result in a copyright/general infringement lawsuit

Inside Out 3. it’s even worse than the second one. bonus points if it’s made using mostly AI

Disney makes a live action Princess and the Frog, which sparks the continued/new “reverse racism” movement on twitter

SIA has another “creative project” similar to “Music”, except this time it touches on LGBTQ+ experiences. it goes just as poorly as “Music” did. she handles it by re-coming out as queer, using the timeless excuse of “well, this is just my experience with queerness” as buffer. bonus points if she included an interpretive dance segment that graphically exhibits a gay child getting assaulted and abused, not unlike the restraint scene in “Music”

billie eilish officially comes out as lesbian or pan. her twitter fans riot over the fact that she’s not bisexual

people try to cancel chappel roan over nothing again. bonus points if sabrina carpenter almost gets caught in the crossfire when she comes out in support of chappel roan but is ultimately left alone

tik tok ends up not getting banned for a second time. bonus points if 2020 fandom/pop culture makes a comeback

will stetson calls out a vtuber on twitter for being an abuser, a pedophile, or both. nobody listens but he blows up a few months later when receipts confirming his claim are posted

will stetson covers another freaky vocaloid song and people get real mad about it

either ethel cain reveals she’s been going to therapy and is better now or she posts her suicide note on here in the form of song lyrics and no one takes it seriously until they notice she hasn’t posted in months. either way, she releases a new album. its reception depends entirely on whether shes medicated or dead

coryxkenshins new comic gains enough popularity to project a future animation (lower budget but still!!)

Resident Evil 9 is announced. it features chris + leon and makes rosa the protagonist

madoka magica movie disappoints fans and people who have never watched the original series. everyone is pissed

a new Dead By Daylight copycat is released. its fanbase is positive that it will replace DBD. the copycat dies within a month of release. bonus points if another LoZ/Genshin copycat goes through the same thing

Mihoyo fucks up the Snezhnaya part releasing this year and everyone who cares about the game quality quits

Columbina’s leaks reveal that she’s been boiled down to nothing but waifu material

Sandrone is either killed off OR they nerf her model and gameplay because rigging the robot would be too hard for the amount of development they’re going to give her (none)

Every cool harbinger except Dottore dies. Dottore is either turned into gooner bait or they make him in love with the traveler tsun/yandere style. they amp up the dere stuff for Lumine because gay people don’t exist

Genshin devs release an eighth region to distract from Snezhnaya’s non-release. they make something up about a secret, dead, and/or missing archon. the story is bullshit. the characters are bullshit. everyone hates it

Genshin ends the Natlan character releases with 2 barely tan characters and the rest being sickly pale. the fandom considers this a diversity win

Pantalone leaks reveal he has an NPC model

Pantalone is revealed to be Baizhu’s brother OR they’re the same person OR they pull a Dottore and call Baizhu a segment (or segment adjacent)

Genshin has another My Little Pony moment (the power of friendship or whatever) and it works despite everything in the story quest leading up to it showing that it can’t work and would never work in a million years

10 or fewer total playable male characters are released. the only people upset by this are fans of the game and fandom members who want more men to drool over

Dahlia turns out to be fanservice, is twinkified to shit, and is made to be in love with the traveler

A mihoyo game voice actor gets cancelled or called out for grooming. again.

Mihoyo gets called out for tracing art. again.

A new XingYun event that really pushes censorship. they have to make up for it by brother-fying their relationship afterwards

PJSK canonizes KanaMafu and MizuEna

MinoHaru, AkiTouya, or AnHane has a “Trap For You” moment

PJSK accidentally makes AkiTouya too implied and has to damage control by crumb-ing AkiAn and/or TouHane. OR this happens to RuiKasa, RuiNene, and EmuKasa respectively

the PJSK movie sucks. the fandom pretends it doesn’t to preserve their interest and keep their faith. it’s never spoken of again

Mafuyu is mildly transphobic. bonus points if mafuyu stans defend her by also saying mildly transphobic things, mizuki stans are upset by this (as everyone should be), and kanade stans are split down the middle depending on how little or how much they ship KanaMafu. double bonus points if i delete PJSK

Fortnite x One Piece. the Luffy model looks HORRENDOUS

Fortnite x Pokemon

more of a prayer than a projection, but fortnite x project sekai, as well as another arcane run 🙏🙏🙏 please i’ll be so good i prommie just lemme have mizuki and jinx in fortnite

a movie about cannibalism and romance that is A24 levels of pretentious art student is released. everyone loves it because the romance is between a pathetic, vaguely bisexual looking man and a woman who should have been a lesbian. they are both white, obviously, because the use of cannibalism as a metaphor for all-consuming desire and a love for someone that transcends life and death itself was made with straight white people in mind.

shapeshifting becomes real

this is an incomplete list but this is all im gonna add 👍

[daeyeol4you]

The Chay Rewatch Ep. 4

As part of my KP Rewatch, I’m going to be commenting on each episode and analyzing the different Chay scenes. He’s my favorite character, and I thought I’d put down my thoughts (as well as timestamps for his scenes) as a fun way to express that.

Ep 1 & 2, Ep 3

This one is gonna be two-parter because Tumblr has character limits, please look at the reblog for part 2

Episode 4 - The Chay Drought ends, KimChay begins

Gang we are finally back to seeing Chay outside of the previously on segment

Y’all when I tell you I was so excited for this episode

I’m so intrigued by what Porsche says in the sauna. Nampueng why the hell did you say that to baby Porsche? It does develop her character beyond the silent attic wife trapped by Korn though. Clearly, growing up as an adopted child in the mafia world hardened her enough that she felt okay saying this to a child.

Also her saying this about Chay is very telling. Porsche is the heir, the one trapped by parental expectations in a world he doesn’t like (like Kinn???). He has the responsibility to bear whatever he has to in order for Chay to be free. Chay was always meant to be outside of the mafia narrative and escape in a way Nampueng knew her first born never could. Or maybe she wanted to raise a fighter and a strategist, who knows.

Time: 26:00 – 31:19 – Return of the Best Boi

Our longest Chay scene yet, this scene is so long and I kept pausing it to write down every thought in my head.

Chay, I thought we’d never see you again

Sidenote, what’s the name of the friend Chay is with? I think the fandom named him Ohm? Because I’ve seen that name used in fanfics

 “We’ve got a kind graduate that will share his experience with us.” – I know this may be a translation thing, but isn’t Kim still a student at this university? We see him on campus later on in the series getting ragged on for not going to classes, so did the MC actually mean senior? Or maybe he graduated and then is doing his master’s at the same school?

Also, very glad we somewhat got an age on Kim since if he’s a graduate or a senior that puts him in the 21-24 age range, and since Chay is looking at schools to apply to, he’s probably 18/19 age range (yes I know Barcode was younger than that at the time of filming, but Jeff is definitely older than 21-24 so I’m not going to go by actor age). Not the worst age difference, but definitely one that exists.

Chay’s Outfit: Chay immediately stands out in the crowd with his baby blue school uniform and khaki pants. Almost every other student is wearing a very, very pale pink or blue shirt with dark shorts or skirts. The viewer is immediately capable of picking out Chay among the crowd and keeping an eye on him, a hard thing for costuming to achieve when the scene is meant to be a bunch of students all dressed nearly the same. Also, Chay’s school crest says BOC International and he doesn’t have his name sewn onto his shirt like the rest of the students (I’m assuming those are names, if I’m wrong please correct me)

“Who’s that?” “It’s Wik. How could you not know?” – Chay babes, please don’t attack your bestie like that.

Chay’s friend not knowing who Wik is when Chay literally has a whole obsessive fanboy thing going on, very interesting. I understand this is to tell the audience who Wik is, but it also says a lot about Chay’s relationship with his friends. Chay is really good at hiding things when he wants to, we see that throughout the series. The only person he doesn’t really hide anything from is Kim, and that’s honestly partially because Chay has the self-confidence of a god and Kim likes ferreting out secrets.

“I want to study here because of him.” – Oh Chay, you cute little delulu stalker. I know this gets ignored because there are so many other, bigger red flags in this story, but Chay deadass stalks Kim. And no joke, Kim falls for him because of it and later stalks him back. Soulmate behavior I guess. Chay’s red flag is a high school story red flag instead of a mafia storyline red flag so it gets buried. And Chay’s friend 100% sees that. Bro nods his head while internally going damn the delulu runs deep in this one.

Kim’s Wik Outfit: The brown leather jacket with the red lining and silver studs, the insane amount of silver jewelry, the white pants! This is such an outfit. The tendrils of hair artfully hanging in his face. Good shit. Did I stare at Jeff’s hands to see if he was wearing his family ring? Yes, and I won’t be taking questions about it.

“I’ve realized that you’re my good memory. The empty calendar is now full of your name.” “Your laughter that makes me feel like it’s Friday.” - Now I want to dissect this song because this song foreshadows the KimChay relationship so hard, and you don’t really pay much attention to it during your initial viewing because obviously the viewer first time round has no idea what kind of angst KimChay is headed for. Why Don’t You Stay gets all of the praise (obviously she’s the work horse of this drama) while this song gets crumbs. Kim singing this song in front of the person he’s going to fall in love with, who turns into the one good thing in his life, who’s ‘tutoring sessions’ (i.e. the two spy missions and medley of dates afterward) take over his calendar, and who’s laughter makes his heart warm (and 100% haunts him after he makes Chay cry)

I’m really interested in how big of a star Wik is. Chay’s friend doesn’t know him, but he’s obviously popular enough that his university (probably in exchange for some extra credit since Kim skips so much) has him as a headliner for their open house. He even draws a good-sized crowd who seem very knowledgeable about his work not just randoms who are touring the school like Chay’s friend.

I’m sorry bowl cut, drumstick boy has the best reactions throughout this scene. During Wik’s performance, dude is rocking out, and his exuberant thumbs up to what Wik says kills me. He may not be as wild as Chay, but bro is a big Wik fan so I support him. In comparison, Chay is very calm and quiet while watching his idol. He only shows his emotions when he can’t answer the questions and rants about Wik’s MVs.

Kim comes off so cold throughout this scene. The look on his face after he finishes his bit and the MC comes back on stage is dead inside. He is done. He does not want to be here. He wants to go write some songs and add pictures to his conspiracy board. I’m not saying that Kim dislikes performing and being Wik, no. I just think Kim likes the music more than he likes the performance. The public persona of Wik definitely helps him stay away from Korn’s machinations, but I think if Kim could have his music without the people aspect of being a musician he would in a heartbeat. But he puts up with it to stay away from his father.

Chay knowing all of the answers and correcting people. The looks he give the people who answer instead of him is as close to murderous as he gets in this series. If not for the laws of this land and the fact that Porsche doesn’t let him have a knife, he would have stabbed a bitch.

Anyways, there’s my obsessive fan boy! I am not joking when I say Kim fell for him because of his obsessive stalker tendencies. And his friend hyping him up, saying he’ll get the next question, and even trying to get the MC to pick Chay when literally less than an hour ago he had no idea who Wik was or the scale of Chay’s obsession. Need me a friend like that.

Speaking of, the absolute change in Kim’s expression when Chay goes on his little tangent. Bro deadass finally had some life in his eyes. He is shook and falling in love all at the same time. MC has to nudge Kim to get him out of his heart eyes moment.

I maintain that if Kim hadn’t gone all Kimlock Holmes about Porchay being Porsche’s brother he still would have obsessed over the cute boy who has the same obsessive red flag as him. KimChay are freaks who love a bit of stalking.

Bowl Cut’s “Even I didn’t know that. Who the hell are you?” – bro does Wik only have obsessive fans? Also yes, fear Chay’s power Bowl Cut Boy.

I am not gonna lie Barcode towering over people around him is so funny to me. He is baby, but that baby is six feet tall.

Chay is so happy when Kim offers to give him something else!!