#you can try and convince me this didn’t happen

[pacofprunes]

DARK / TOXIC SQUID GAME REACTIONS TO YOU TRYING TO LEAVE THEM

CONTAINS — namgyu x reader, thanos x reader, myungi x reader, inho x reader, sangwoo x reader, saebyeok x reader

WARNINGS — toxic relationship, domestic violence, baby trapping, manipulation, guilt trip, prepare yourself for namgyus that’s the worst probably, mentions of suicide (thanos)

masterlist

THANOS / PLAYER 230 / CHOI-SUBONG — manipulates you / would let you leave and crawl back to him

doesn’t take it well at all. he’s going to laugh and think you’re joking, but after realizing that you’re not, he’s quickly going to scream at you. telling you that you’ll never find anybody better than him.

“do you really think anybody else will want you? if you leave me you’ll never find anyone else. you’ll never find anybody better!”

he’ll start breaking shit. punching walls, shit, he’ll even break your own phone if it’s in arms reach. if you still insist on leaving he’ll say he’s gonna overdose. he tells you that he’ll kill himself if you step out that door while pressing a blade up to his arm. if all else fails, he’ll totally act like he didn’t just beg you to stay and scream at you to go then and not to come running back.

“fine bitch, go ahead and leave! but don’t come running back to me for nothin’.”

in reality, he’s definitely stalking your socials, making fake accounts you haven’t blocked him on, stalking your friends accounts to see other photos of you, visiting the club every night (not that he didn’t already do that) to try to see if you’d show up. after about a month or so of doing this and going out and fucking other girls to get over you, he can’t do it anymore. he’ll send you some fake heartfelt text that he probably used ai to make and call you while making himself sound like he was crying, trying to make you feel bad and convince you that he’s changed and that he can be a better boyfriend. if you fall for it, you’re doomed. the relationships only going to be a million times worse than before. instead of knocking glass over and breaking shit, he might slap you. in public, he might grip your wrist ten times tighter, scared you’ll run away. when he finally lets go, his fingers will be embedded in your skin. he might even guilt trip you into getting a matching tattoo with him. “if you really loved me and forgave me then you would.”

if you really don’t go back to him though, no matter how many times you block him, you’ll get a new video sent to your phone from some unknown number of him fucking a new girl. he sent you the videos in hopes of making you jealous or something. he’s not going to stop for a long time. if you don’t go back to him, he’s going to harass you for the rest of your life. and if you do go back? you’re in for a world of hell.

NAMGYU / PLAYER 124 — would threaten you, would actually harm you

“you’re one funny bitch. you know how much shit i got on you?”

he finds it admirable, honestly. but still, fucking hilarious, that you, you, think you can leave him. what? when did you grow some balls? yeah, no. you just hurt his ego and that’s about the stupidest thing you could ever do to him. he’s not very empty with his threats. if he says he’s leaving? he’ll leave. (for like a week…) if he says he’s gonna hit you? you’re gonna be bruised for a while. if he says he’s gonna kill you? well, you haven’t gotten to that point yet. but keep this up and you sure will.

he keeps every nude and threatens to release it. sure you’re his and all, but that doesn’t stop him. so what if some other guy sees your body? he could care less. now if another guy touches you? let’s not think about what would happen. threatens to send the pictures to your family and threatens to send every sex tape of you two that he filmed behind your back.

“what the fuck is wrong with you namgyu? when the fuck did you film that?”

don’t raise your voice at him. once he hits you and you fall to the ground, he’ll keep kicking at you with his foot over and over until he thinks you’ve had enough. don’t speak up to him, don’t speak against him, and don’t piss him off. just sit there and be pretty, okay? he’s going to be bolder now. next time you two have sex he’s just going to shove the camera in your face. he’s going to manipulate and force you to take nudes for him since you don’t want to anymore after he threatened to send them out. sometimes he’ll force you to strip and then he’ll just take the pictures himself. all in all, sometimes he might just say no and leave it at that. but if you keep pushing, he’s going to threaten you. and if you still keep pushing, he’s going to go through with those threats. you really are just some whore to him, don’t think he’s above killing you.

MYUNGI / PLAYER 333 / MG COIN ★— would let you leave and crawl back to him (except he’s the one who crawls back), babytrapping

“really? fine, if that’s what you want then leave.”

he acts like he doesn’t care because he thinks his annoyance will make you turn right back around to him. he acts like he doesn’t care because he’s trying to not get so bent out of shape about it and move on quickly. but when he hears your footsteps disappear and the door shut, he immediately balls up his fists. you seriously left? he didn’t expect that, but whatever. he doesn’t need you.

he tries to move on but after barely even a week, he can’t do it. he contacts you, but when you block him, he makes more and more numbers. he thought you’d be running back to him, not the opposite. he sends you pictures of you two together in hopes you’d change your mind, but when you just keep blocking him, he’s knocking on your door demanding you open it up. he tries being nice but when you don’t open it, he starts banging on the door. really? you’d been together for months and you’d already gotten over him? no. no no no. you don’t get to just move on! what the hells wrong with you? when you still don’t open the door, he leaves and goes back to his place and sits on his bed while he ponders his next move. he decides for now just to stalk your page and harass you from more and more numbers. he’s not going to stop until you at least respond. oh, you’re gonna get a restraining order? you’re funny. you think that’ll stop him? don’t go back to him. if for some reason you give in, the next time that you two have sex, he’s going to make sure that you can’t leave. he’s sure that you’ll look so pretty with your stomach swelled up.

INHO / YOUNGIL / PLAYER 001 — straight up says no / baby traps / makes you feel like you’re going crazy

straight up, no. you want to leave? no. he doesn’t even care for an explanation on why, you’re not leaving. completely ignores your words and changes the whole topic. everytime you try to say you’re leaving he just completely overrides you with something different.

“inho, i’m serious. i’m leaving you! i’m packing my shit right now and i’m not coming back, i swear to you.”

“what did you want for dinner again? i have to go back out to get some groceries so there’s not too much…”

maybe it’s on purpose, maybe it’s not. but it makes you feel like you’re losing your mind. then he will deliberately go out of his way to make it seem like you’re crazy.

“i’m leaving because of what you’ve been doing behind my back, inho. it’s fucked up and you’re insane.”

“baby, you could follow me around tomorrow. i’ve got no idea what you mean.”

and he says it all with that stupid small polite smile that he gives everyone. you just want to strangle him. if somehow he can get you in bed with him after you just got so pissed, he’ll be more passionate than ever. he’ll treat you nice, focus on your pleasure before his and then quickly when you’re blissed out, he’ll pull out of you, slip the condom off and slide right back in. you don’t notice at all, but he makes sure to tell you like the cocky fuck he is. but he does it while he’s thrusting and when you can tell he’s about to cum. poor you, it’s too late to stop him :(.

“i’m about to fuck a baby in you — agh, i — i took the condom off. gonna have a beautiful—fuck—fucking baby with you.”

how could you leave now? do you have enough money to take care of a child without him? and would you really deprive your child of their father? you’ll get an abortion? he’ll find a way to keep you locked up in your house. you’re still going to leave? he’s going to guilt trip you to the max. and if that still fails? once again, he’s just going to find a way to keep you locked up in your house. he’ll figure it out as you go on, but for now, have your happy little family with him.

KANG SAE-BYEOK — straight up says no

she’s not going to entertain you at all. she might not even say no, opting to just stay silent instead. if you get in her face about it because she’s ignoring you, she’s just going to push you away. if you keep nagging her about it, she’s going to slap you. if you decide not to drop it, she’ll drag you by your hair and lock you in a room. are you stupid? don’t start this shit first thing in the morning.

“saebyeok, this isn’t working. we should go our separate ways.”

“no. did you hit your head or something?”

you should just drop it and move on with your day. nothing you say is going to convince her and if you piss her off too much, like said before, she’s just going to lock you away until you stop sounding ‘crazy’. she’s very cold, but she’s generally pretty nice to you still though. she’s a good girlfriend to you, just a little possessive, but it’s never gotten out of control. you just didn’t think the relationship was working and that it just wasn’t the right time. all in all, if you don’t push to much, you won’t see the shitty side of her that she never shows you. however, if you keep pushing the idea, she’s going to give you a real reason to break up with her.

SANGWOO — would let you leave and crawl back to him

“you want to break up? fine.”

it leaves you shocked at the sound of him not caring. it was as simple as that. you want to break up? bye then bitch! it hurt. it almost made you want to change your mind and say never mind and just stay with him, and that’s exactly what he wanted. that’s exactly why he said it like that. but that didn’t work and you just walked out the door. that’s fine though, you’d come back to him, he knows it.

he makes sure to post old photos of you two on his Instagram. not ones with your face in it, duh, but he posts the photos that you took of him where you’re behind the camera or ones where your arm or your hand is slightly showing. he knows you still stalk his socials. he’s posting these knowing that it’s going to hurt your little heart and make you crawl right back. he leaves every photo of you two up on every platform, not deleting a single thing. for a little while, he even keeps his pfp the same. you two holding hands. whenever he posts something, he always makes sure to put something in the caption that he knows you love. you liked tulips? he’ll put a tulip emoji in the caption. you loved cats? he’ll put a cat emoji in his bio. all these subtle things where you won’t know he’s doing it on purpose, but it’ll be so much of a coincidence that you’ll think this is a sign to run back to him.

he’ll tell his friends to ask about him to you whenever they talk with you.

“how are you and sangwoo doing?”

“oh he talks about you all the time.”

he tells them to act like they don’t know that the two of you have broken up. he makes sure to get in your head and eventually? you’ll come running back. if for some reason you don’t, he might have to pull some strings. spread some rumors about you so that your friends want nothing to do with you and so all that you have to run to for comfort is him.

[treatbuckywkisses]

one thing abt me is im going to read angst no matter how much it hurts me :')

their friend group is so cute & fun I loved the relationships you made between them

     “ Bucky, thank you for the offer, but-” Bucky interrupted you before you could continue,” Come on, doll. Just one date. I’ll keep it friendly,” there was a hopeful look in his eyes. There was a clear conflict of interest as coworkers if you said yes. If you said no, then things could go back to the way they were. You would, however, never get to see what Bucky was like on a first date. Something you found yourself intrigued to find out. He's so dreamy!! doll gets me every time 🥹

     You tensed up, Bucky pulling away when you did. “ Doll, was it bad? Did I do something wrong?” You shook your head profusely,” No, Bucky, you did everything right. This has been the best date I’ve ever had. It was amazing and you’re amazing, but this. . .this can't happen,” you tried to make yourself clear, but your voice faltered towards the end. He looked wounded,” What? Why? Y/n, I have feelings for you and I can tell you have feelings for me too. The way you kissed me now-” you stopped him there,” Please forget about the kiss. Forget about this ever becoming something more. It can’t and it won’t.” He was baffled and could barely form any words,” Why? You just said this has been the best date you've ever been on. How can everything be going so wrong now?” He leaned against the capsule, shaking his head in disbelief. The sight of him made your heart ache. NOOOO:( this hurts my tummy bucky is literally so precious and simply just trying to have a good time & follow his heart why would anyone break it 😭

     “ I’m not,” with that said, it's like you threw the key back at him. The ferris wheel came to a stop, neither of you moving to leave. Bucky was looking at you as if you were a stranger—maybe you were now.  I'm actually going to be violently ill over this for DAYS. how could you do this 😭😭 

     Nevertheless, Bucky insisted on convincing you otherwise, following you with the teddy bear in hand. You weren’t the only ones leaving, so the crowd was dense and easy to get lost in. In less than a minute, however, he lost sight of you. His hand no longer in yours making sure that didn’t happen.  UGH NO:(, the hand comment I'm ACHING :( this is so devastating 

so according to the law (my rb of the prequel thing) i must sue you, so pay up🫶🏻 (just make them in love)

Conflict of Interest

Pairing: Detective!Bucky Barnes x Lawyer!Reader

Summary: After the many failed dates Natasha set you up on, you decide to give up on the dating scene all together. That is until Bucky makes it his mission to change your mind, but will he be enough to change it?

Word Count: 2.9k

Warning(s): angst + fluff / mentions of homicide and case details / cheating (from side character) / drinking / failed dates / heartbreak

a/n: In Five Years Part 2 is taking me longer than expected to write, so here’s a small fic in the meantime! My finals are in two weeks and I can’t wait to get them done and over with to finally have more free time to write! Thank you for reading! ❤️

➵ Prequel Drabble // ➵ Part II 

     “ No more, Nat. I can’t go on another date,” you shut down Natahsa’s latest offer, taking a sip of the freshly brewed coffee she made. She rolled her eyes, sitting next to you on the leather couch in your joint office.“ Y/n, you’re seriously going to turn down another guy? I haven’t even told you anything about him yet,” she egged the idea on. You shook your head, handing her the latest case you were assigned to prosecute. “ Can we please just focus on this case? The trial is in a few weeks and we need to be prepared,” you refused to entertain this conversation any longer. 

     “ I just think you’ll really like th-“

     “ No.”

     “ But this guy is really cute and a doctor an-“

     You gave her a stern look,” No, I’ve decided to stop dating all together. They never end well and at this point emotionally, I can’t handle it.” You stood up to grab one of your law books. You needed to brush up on the precedents for previous crimes of passion in New York. Natasha sighed, glancing over the first file,” Your dates haven’t been that bad.” 

Keep reading

[heartsriki]

SYMPHONY OF US ⌇음악

FLIRT ALERT! series⌇Park Jongseong | Next

pairing ᝰ jay x fem!reader — word count: 4.6k+

⌇ … warnings & genre ↺ college au!, friends to lovers, mutual pining, bantering, song composer x guitarist, fluff, kissing.

synopsis — As music majors in college, You and Jay have always been seatmates in class—passing notes, sharing playlists, and teasing each other between lectures. But when you get paired for the annual Valentine’s Open Mic Night, your usual banter turns into long practice sessions, late-night coffee runs, and a song that sounds a little too much like a love confession.

lee's ₊˚⊹ ᰔ comment ┊Hey Ermmuhh I couldn’t sleep so I cooked this one up and I actually like it. Guys I would do anything for guitar Jay, whos with me.. raise your hand..

The first time you ever sat next to Jay, it wasn’t by choice.

The lecture hall had been packed, students filing into seats with that first-week energy—half of them eager, the other half exhausted. You had arrived late, the only open seat left beside a guy in a coat, his foot tapping lightly against the floor in a steady rhythm.

“Bad day?” he had asked as you slumped into the seat.

You had barely looked at him before muttering, “Bad parking.”

That had made him chuckle. “Yeah, parking’s a nightmare.” Then, as if he could sense your irritation, he slid a packet of sheet music onto your desk. “Here. Since you missed the first part.”

That was the beginning of it.

For the rest of the year, Jay remained your unofficial seatmate. You didn’t plan it—it just happened. Every class, every semester, no matter the time or the professor, there was an unspoken agreement that you would end up beside each other. He passed you scribbled jokes in the margins of his notes, you stole his guitar picks, and somehow, you two had developed a routine that made even the dullest lectures bearable.

So when the Professor announced that the Valentine’s Open Mic Night would be a graded project this year, it wasn’t a surprise when he paired you and Jay together. What was surprising was the flicker of hesitation on Jay’s face when your names were called.

“You good?” you asked as you packed your things after class.

Jay blinked, snapping out of whatever thought had been on his mind. “Yeah. Just… never done a duet before.”

You raised a brow. “You literally performed at the Winter Recital last semester.”

“That was different.”

“How?”

He adjusted the strap of his bag, glancing down at his shoes before flashing you a lopsided grin. “I didn’t have to sing with you.”

You rolled your eyes, bumping his shoulder with yours. “Relax, I’ll try not to make you sound bad.”

And that was it. That was how your simple routine with Jay turned into something a little bit more.

You would think that after almost a year of sitting next to each other, sharing notes, and teasing back and forth, you two would have naturally grown closer. But there had always been a boundary—an invisible line neither of you dared to cross. You weren’t sure if it was because of the way Jay always seemed so effortlessly cool, or because you had convinced yourself that your dynamic worked best when there were no expectations beyond the classroom.

But something about today felt different.

As he turned to leave, you blurted out, “Would you like to get some coffee?!”

Jay froze mid-step at your sudden outburst, then turned slowly to meet your gaze. The smirk that curled at his lips sent a flicker of heat to your face.

“You asking me out?”

Your entire body stiffened. “No! No,” you rushed to say, waving your hands frantically. “I mean—for our music piece. Y’know? So we can brainstorm or whatever.”

Jay tilted his head, pretending to consider it, even though you could tell he was enjoying your flustered reaction way too much. After a beat, he shrugged. “Alright. Lead the way.”

Fifteen minutes later, you were sitting across from him in a small café just off campus, a half-empty coffee cup between your hands. The place was cozy, the hum of conversation mixing with the soft jazz playing overhead.

Jay had abandoned his coat, rolling up the sleeves of his long sleeved shirt as he leaned back in his chair, watching you with mild amusement. “You’re overthinking it.”

You frowned. “What? No, I’m not.”

“You totally are,” he said, tapping a finger against your notebook. “Look at this. You’ve got three different song structures written down, but you haven’t committed to any of them.”

You groaned, running a hand through your hair. “Because I don’t know what works best. I mean, do we go for something upbeat? Or do we lean into the whole Valentine’s theme and make it, like… disgustingly romantic?”

Jay huffed a laugh, picking up his coffee. “You sound like love songs personally offend you.”

“They do when they’re forced,” you muttered, tapping your pen against the table. “I just don’t want it to sound fake, y’know?”

Jay was quiet for a moment, watching you carefully. Then he leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. “So let’s not make it fake.”

You blinked. “What?”

He nudged your notebook toward you. “Let’s write something real. Doesn’t have to be some cheesy love song. Just something that actually means something to us.”

The sincerity in his voice caught you off guard. For all the teasing and banter, Jay had a way of slipping in these unexpectedly earnest moments that made you pause.

You exhaled slowly, nodding. “Alright. Something real.”

“Good.” He grinned. “And if it just so happens to be a love song, well…” He shot you a teasing look. “Guess that says something about us, huh?”

Your heart stuttered in your chest, but you forced yourself to roll your eyes. “Don’t make stupid jokes.”

Jay just laughed, but even as you refocused on your notes, you couldn’t shake the feeling that, somehow, things were changing between you two.

The two of you sat in comfortable silence for a while, the low hum of the cafe filling in the gaps as you both stared at your notebooks. Every so often, Jay would absentmindedly tap his fingers against the table, a steady rhythm that somehow made it easier for you to think.

You glanced up at him. “So, what’s something real to you?”

Jay’s fingers paused mid-tap. He looked at you, eyebrows raising slightly, as if he hadn’t expected you to actually ask. Then, after a moment, he shrugged. “Music, obviously. Late-night drives. My guitars. Oh, and good coffee.” He lifted his cup in emphasis before taking a sip.

You hummed, jotting down a few words in your notebook. “Alright, so we’re writing a love song about caffeine addiction.”

Jay chuckled. “That’s what you got from that?”

“You said ‘good coffee.’ That’s passion.”

He rolled his eyes but leaned forward, glancing at your notebook. “Okay, your turn. What’s something real to you?”

You hesitated, tapping your pen against the page. It was a simple question, but answering it felt more intimate than you had expected.

“Uh… sunrises,” you said finally. “When you’ve been up all night, and everything’s quiet for a few minutes before the world wakes up. That first breath of cold air in the morning. And…” You trailed off, feeling suddenly self-conscious.

Jay tilted his head, waiting. “And?”

You exhaled, deciding to just go for it. “That feeling when you’re playing music, writing it, and for a second, it’s like… everything just clicks.”

Jay was quiet. When you looked up, he wasn’t smirking or teasing. He was just watching you, something unreadable in his expression.

“Yeah,” he said, voice softer now. “I get that.”

Something shifted then—an unspoken understanding settling between you.

Jay reached for his guitar case beside his chair, flipping open the latches. “Alright,” he said, adjusting the strap over his shoulder. “Let’s see what we’ve got so far.”

You bit your lip, flipping through your notes. “I mean, we don’t have much yet, but…”

Jay started strumming, a simple, easy melody filling the space between you. You listened, letting the rhythm settle in before you hesitantly hummed a melody over it.

Jay’s lips curled into a smile. “That works. Keep going.”

And just like that, the song started to take shape.

Hours later, you were still at the café, empty cups pushed to the side as you sat next to Jay in the booth, your notebooks a mess of scribbled lyrics and crossed-out ideas.

“Alright, what about this?” Jay said, adjusting his guitar. He played a soft progression, nodding toward you. “Try it with the lyrics we just fixed.”

You took a breath and sang the first few lines, the words tentative but starting to feel more natural the more you repeated them. Jay watched you as you sang, his eyes focused—not in the way he usually looked at you when he was about to tease you, but in a way that made something in your chest tighten.

When you finished, he nodded slowly. “That was good.”

You laughed lightly, nudging his shoulder. “Yeah?”

Jay’s grin returned, but there was something gentler about it this time. “Yeah. We still have a lot to work on but.. its good.”

You glanced at the clock, realizing how late it had gotten. “We should probably head back before they kick us out.”

Jay sighed dramatically, strumming one last chord before setting his guitar aside. “Fine. But only because I don’t want them banning me from my favorite cafe.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled as you started packing up your things. As the two of you stepped outside, the cold night air bit at your skin, and you shivered. Before you could react, Jay wordlessly shrugged off his coat and draped it over your shoulders.

You blinked at him. “Jay—”

“Don’t start,” he said, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “You looked cold.”

Your heart did a stupid little flip, but you quickly masked it with a playful smirk. “This is just an excuse to save your seat tomorrow isn’t it?”

Jay shot you a playful hurt look. “Wow, you think so little of me.”

You laughed, hugging his coat closer around you as the two of you walked back toward campus, the melody of your half-written song still lingering in the air.

The next few days fell into an easy rhythm—class, study sessions, and sneaking into the music room whenever it was free. You and Jay spent more time together than ever, working through melodies, tweaking lyrics, and getting lost in conversations that had nothing to do with the song at all.

And somehow, somewhere between all of that, the line between “just seatmates” and something more started to blur.

“Okay, one more run-through,” Jay said, adjusting the tuning pegs on his guitar.

You groaned, leaning your head back against the piano bench. “Jay, we’ve done like… twelve run-throughs.”

He shot you a look. “And yet you still mess up the second verse.”

“Hey!” You sat up, pointing at him accusingly. “I wouldn’t mess it up if you didn’t look at me like that.”

Jay smirked. “Like what?”

“Like you’re trying not to laugh every time I hit the high note.”

“I am trying not to laugh,” he admitted, eyes twinkling. “Not because of your singing—your singing’s great. It’s just…” He paused, grinning. “You scrunch up your nose when you go for high notes. It’s cute.”

Your breath hitched for a second.

Jay must’ve realized what he said, because his fingers fumbled over the guitar strings. He cleared his throat, suddenly focused on his instrument.

You stared at him, the warmth creeping up your neck completely unrelated to the heated room. Instead of responding, you exhaled and picked up your lyrics sheet. “One more run-through,” you mumbled.

Jay glanced at you, lips twitching. “One more.”

By now, late-night practice had become routine. But this was the first time you’d ended up at Jay’s apartment.

“Make yourself comfortable,” he said, tossing his keys onto the counter.

You glanced around, taking in the space. It was exactly what you expected—minimalist, with music posters and a guitar stand in the corner. A few records were stacked near a player, and his desk was cluttered with sheet music and unfinished compositions.

“You live like an actual musician,” you mused, running a finger over a worn-out lyric book on his desk.

Jay snorted. “I thought I gave off business major energy.”

You rolled your eyes, but your gaze landed on the couch, where a soft-looking blanket was draped over the armrest. You raised an eyebrow. “You keep a blanket on your couch?”

Jay glanced over and shrugged. “Yeah?”

You smirked. “Didn’t take you for a cozy guy.”

He leaned against the counter, arms crossed. “I have layers.”

You laughed, shaking your head as you settled onto the couch. Jay sat beside you, guitar in hand. The song was almost finished now, just a few refinements left before the performance.

“You wanna run through it again?” you asked, pulling your knees up.

Jay nodded, but he hesitated, fingers hovering over the strings. When you looked at him, he wasn’t smirking or teasing like usual. There was something thoughtful in his gaze, something… uncertain.

Jay’s fingers moved over the guitar strings effortlessly, the melody filling the space between you. Your voice wove through it, soft but steady, carrying the lyrics you’d both spent hours perfecting.

But tonight—tonight, the song felt different.

It wasn’t just words on a page anymore. It wasn’t just an assignment. It was something heavier, something unspoken. Something neither of you dared to name.

When the last note faded, silence settled between you.

Jay exhaled, setting his guitar aside. “That was…” He trailed off, as if searching for the right words.

You nodded slowly, barely above a whisper. “Yeah.”

Neither of you moved.

You were still sitting cross-legged on the couch, his blanket draped loosely over your shoulders. Jay was beside you, leaning against the cushions, his arm resting on the back of the couch. Close. Closer than before.

The tension hung thick in the air, pressing against your skin.

Jay’s gaze flickered to your lips for half a second—so quick you might’ve imagined it. But then his fingers twitched against his knee, his throat bobbing as he swallowed.

And suddenly, you knew.

You knew that if you leaned in, if you closed the space between you, something would happen.

Your pulse pounded.

Jay shifted slightly, his knee brushing against yours. He wasn’t smirking, wasn’t teasing—just watching you, waiting, like he was caught in the same pull that had tightened around your chest.

Your breath hitched.

Jay tilted his head just a little, like he was debating something. Like he was giving you the chance to stop this before it went somewhere neither of you could take back.

Your heart was a drumline in your chest.

Your fingers curled around the edge of the blanket.

You should move. Say something. Anything.

But you didn’t.

Instead, your gaze dropped—just briefly—to his lips. And that was all it took.

Jay leaned in.

Your breath tangled with his, warmth ghosting over your skin. Your lashes fluttered. He was close enough now that you could see the night shine in his dark eyes, close enough that you could feel the slight hitch in his breathing.

A fraction of an inch. That’s all that was left.

Then—

BZZZT.

Jay jerked back, exhaling sharply as his phone vibrated against the coffee table.

The hypnotic spell shattered.

You blinked, heart still hammering, trying to process what almost just happened.

Jay cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. “Uh. I should… probably check that.” His voice was slightly hoarse.

You nodded stiffly, gripping the blanket tighter around your shoulders. “Yeah. Yeah, go ahead.”

Jay reached for his phone, glancing at the screen. “It’s my friend Jungwon,” he muttered, like that somehow explained the whiplash of the moment you’d just shared.

You took the opportunity to stand, needing space, needing to breathe. “I should—um, I should go. It’s late.”

Jay’s head snapped up. “Wait—”

But you were already grabbing your things, shoving your notebook into your bag. Your fingers still trembled slightly.

Jay stood too, stepping toward you, but he hesitated. Like he wasn’t sure if he should stop you. Like he wasn’t sure what to say after what just happened.

And honestly? Neither were you.

So instead, you forced a small, strained smile. “See you tomorrow?”

Jay held your gaze for a beat longer, something unreadable in his eyes.

Then, finally, he nodded. “Yeah. See you tomorrow.”

You turned quickly, stepping out of his apartment before you could second-guess yourself.

The night air was cold against your burning skin.

And as you walked away, heart still racing, one thought repeated in your head over and over again.

What the hell just happened?

The Valentine’s Open Mic Night had arrived.

The auditorium buzzed with energy—students chattering excitedly, couples whispering to each other, friends hyping up performers. The warm glow of stage lights bathed the room in a golden hue, casting long shadows against the red-and-white Valentine’s decorations.

Backstage, you paced.

“Stop doing that,” Jay said from his spot on a folding chair, tuning his guitar for what had to be the hundredth time.

You shot him a look. “Doing what?”

“Walking back and forth like you’re about to confess to a crime.”

“I feel like I’m about to confess to a crime,” you muttered, rubbing your arms. “Why does this suddenly feel so intense?”

Jay smirked, resting his guitar on his lap. “Maybe because we wrote a song that sounds suspiciously like a love confession?”

Your heart jumped in your chest. “It’s not a love confession,” you shot back, a little too quickly.

Jay arched an eyebrow. “Are you sure?”

You opened your mouth—ready to argue, ready to insist that the song was just a song, nothing more—but the words didn’t come out.

Because the truth was, ever since you’d started rehearsing for this performance, something had felt… off. Not about the music itself—the melody was strong, the lyrics flowed effortlessly—but about the way it made you feel.

Every time you sang it, every time Jay harmonized with you, there was this undeniable weight behind it. Something unspoken, something too close to the surface.

And the more you listened to it, the more familiar it felt.

Like you’d heard it before.

Like you’d felt it before.

You swallowed, voice quieter now. “…Jay.”

His smirk faded slightly. “Yeah?”

You hesitated, but then the realization hit you so hard, you couldn’t stop the words from spilling out.

“This song,” you murmured, gripping the hem of your sleeve. “It sounds like us.”

Jay stilled. His fingers froze on the guitar strings.

For a moment, neither of you said anything.

Then, he let out a slow breath, tilting his head at you. “You just figured that out?”

Your heart stuttered. “You knew?”

Jay’s lips twitched—not in amusement, but in something softer, something almost… shy. “I had a feeling.”

Your pulse roared in your ears. “And you didn’t say anything?”

Jay shrugged, glancing down at his guitar. “I figured you’d realize it eventually.”

Your mind spun. You thought back to every late-night practice session, every lyric you had painstakingly written with him, every melody that had come so naturally between you. You thought about how easily the words had formed, how every note had fit perfectly.

And then it hit you.

This wasn’t just a song.

This was your song. Yours and Jay’s. A reflection of everything between you—the teasing, the late-night conversations, the moments you’d never dared to name.

It wasn’t a forced Valentine’s song. It was real.

And it was about him.

The announcer’s voice crackled through the mic. “Next up, we have a duet from two of our very own music majors. Give it up for—”

You barely heard the introduction. Your heart was hammering too loudly, your thoughts running too fast.

Jay stood, slinging his guitar strap over his shoulder. But before he could step forward, he turned to you, eyes searching yours.

There was something unspoken in his gaze, something that said, We don’t have to do this if you’re not ready.

But the thing was—you were ready.

Because now, standing here on the brink of something terrifying and real, you knew one thing for certain.

You weren’t just about to sing a song.

You were about to tell Jay—in front of an entire audience—exactly how you felt.

Even if you hadn’t meant to.

Even if he already knew.

You took a deep breath, steadied your racing heart, and stepped onto the stage with him.

The last note hung in the air, trembling like a secret waiting to be spoken.

Then, silence.

For a split second, everything stood still—your hands gripping the mic, Jay’s fingers frozen on the last chord, your breaths coming fast and uneven. You could still feel the weight of the song between you, still hear the echoes of every word that had slipped past your lips.

Then the auditorium erupted.

Applause, whistles, cheers—loud and overwhelming. The sound crashed over you, breaking through the haze that had settled during the performance.

Your chest rose and fell, heartbeat still trying to catch up with everything that had just happened. Slowly, you turned to Jay.

He was already looking at you.

The stage lights painted him in gold, catching the softness in his gaze, the hint of something unspoken lingering in the way his fingers were still curled around his guitar.

For a second, neither of you moved.

Then, Jay exhaled, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He tilted his head slightly, eyes searching yours.

We did it.

You nodded.

And just like that, the moment passed.

Jay turned back toward the mic, running a hand through his hair before giving the audience a lopsided grin. “Well,” he said, voice slightly breathless. “That was fun.”

A few laughs rippled through the crowd.

You could still feel the rush of adrenaline in your veins, your mind spinning from everything—the song, the way Jay had looked at you, the way the lyrics felt too real.

The host walked back onstage, grinning as he clapped his hands. “Wow. That was… incredible.” He turned to you and Jay, eyes twinkling. “Now, I gotta ask—was that just a performance, or was that something real?”

Laughter and teasing whistles rang through the crowd. Your breath hitched.

Jay glanced at you.

The stage lights made it impossible to see the audience clearly, but you could feel every pair of eyes watching, waiting.

Jay hesitated for only a second. Then, with a smirk, he leaned toward the mic.

“I guess that’s up to interpretation.”

The crowd groaned in playful frustration, but Jay just chuckled, sending you a quick, unreadable glance before standing up and adjusting his guitar strap.

You huffed out a breathless laugh, shaking your head as the host ushered you both toward the wings.

The second you stepped offstage, the noise of the crowd muffled behind the curtain, a strange weight settled in your chest.

Jay stood beside you, shifting his guitar on his back. He didn’t say anything right away, just let out a quiet exhale before turning to you.

For a moment, it was just the two of you again. No audience. No stage. No expectations.

Just you, Jay, and the song that had said everything you hadn’t.

He opened his mouth, like he wanted to say something.

But before he could, someone called his name from the other side of the curtain, and the moment slipped away.

Jay hesitated for half a second, gaze lingering on yours—like he was waiting. Like there was something unfinished between you.

Then, with a small, knowing smile, he gave you a nod.

“C’mon,” he said softly. “Let’s go.”

And just like that, he walked away, leaving you standing there—heart still pounding, lyrics still echoing in your head, and a quiet, unshakable feeling that whatever this was between you and Jay…

It was just beginning.

BONUS 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

It started slow.

Not because either of you were unsure—because, really, after that song, after that performance, there was no denying what had been brewing for a while between you two—but because neither of you wanted to ruin what was already there.

The playful banter, the late-night coffee runs, the way you always saved him a seat in class, the way he always texted you first whenever he found a song he knew you’d love.

So for a while, nothing changed.

At least, not obviously.

But then there were the small things. The little shifts that made it clear that something was different.

Like the way Jay’s arm would rest along the back of your chair a little longer than necessary. The way his fingers would brush against yours when he handed you a sheet of music, lingering just a second too long. The way his texts became softer—not that they weren’t teasing, because Jay would always be Jay—but now they came with an undertone of something more:

Jay:

Late-night practice? I’ll bring coffee.

Song idea. I need your genius input. Also, your voice.

Are we calling this “studying” even if we just end up talking the whole time?

(Not that I’m complaining.)

And then there were the moments between the music.

Like the first time he reached for your hand without a joke to hide behind. You had been sitting in the empty auditorium after a long practice session, your head leaning against the back of your chair, exhaustion weighing heavy in your limbs.

Jay had stretched, rolling out his shoulders, and then—without looking at you—he just took your hand.

No teasing smirk. No offhand comment. Just his fingers curling around yours like it was the most natural thing in the world.

And it was.

Or the time he had walked you home after another late-night coffee run, and instead of his usual casual “See you tomorrow”, he had hesitated at your doorstep, looking at you like he was thinking about something.

You had raised an eyebrow. “What?”

Jay had tilted his head, lips twitching in amusement. “Nothing,” he had murmured. “Just… realizing I might be in trouble.”

Your heart had flipped. “Trouble?”

“For liking you too much,” he had said easily. “Feels dangerous.”

And you had laughed—because of course Jay would confess something like that with a smirk and a joke—but you had still felt your face heat up.

(And okay, maybe you had reached for his hoodie, tugging him forward just enough to kiss him on the cheek before quickly ducking inside and shutting the door behind you.)

And then there was now.

Sitting in the music room, your back against the grand piano, Jay’s guitar resting across his lap as he absently strummed through a melody you hadn’t heard before.

You tilted your head. “New song?”

Jay hummed. “Maybe.”

You arched an eyebrow. “Let me guess. Another love song?”

He smirked but didn’t deny it. “What can I say? Got a lot of inspiration lately.”

You rolled your eyes, but your heart fluttered anyway.

Jay’s fingers slowed over the strings as he glanced at you, expression thoughtful. “You know,” he said, “I don’t think I ever actually asked you.”

You frowned slightly. “Asked me what?”

Jay set his guitar aside, turning to face you fully. “If I can be your boyfriend.”

Your stomach flipped. “Jay—”

“I know, I know,” he interrupted with a grin. “It’s kinda obvious at this point. But still.” His voice softened, eyes meeting yours. “I wanna hear you say it.”

You exhaled, shaking your head at him. Hopeless.

But still, you smiled, nudging his foot with yours. “Jay, you’ve been my boyfriend since the moment we wrote that song.”

His expression shifted—just slightly. Just enough for you to catch the flicker of something real in his eyes.

Then, in typical Jay fashion, he smirked. “Oh, so you’re admitting it was a love song?”

You groaned, laughing as you reached over to shove his shoulder. “Shut up.”

Jay caught your wrist before you could pull away, tugging you toward him. And before you could react, before you could even tease him for it—

He kissed you.

Soft. Unhurried. Just enough pressure to steal your breath, just enough warmth to send a slow, steady hum through your veins.

When he pulled back, he grinned, voice barely above a whisper.

“So, you wanna write another one?”

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[nellasbookplanet]

What with cr3 ending and me having semi-recently read dungeon meshi and currently replaying mass effect, I find myself pondering characters coming back from the dead and the nature of (happy) endings.

The thing is, I generally prefer a happy ending, and I don’t really agree with takes that they're boring. I do, however, want my happy endings to feel earned, and not in a 'the characters went through a lot of hardships and deserve it' way but in a 'this is narratively satisfying' kind of way. Dungeon meshi (which I'm about to massively spoil) ends in an incredibly happy way, with virtually no one dying, and a huge cast of characters coming together to resurrect the lead's dead loved one. However, the plot throughout also massively focuses on the inevitability of death and of how to handle mourning and moving on. It features a character who, like Keyleth, has a very long lifespan and is desperately seeking a way to save herself the suffering of seeing loved ones die, even as they repeatedly tell her they don’t want the 'solutions' she’s offering. In the end, she does come to terms with things, and before attempting the resurrection admits she’s no longer as scared of the possibility of it failing or losing people in general because now she knows how to move on and find new happiness. When the resurrections succeeds, it doesn’t feel like a cop out or her backsliding in her growth, but rather as immensly satisfying. The nature of the happy ending is also overall tempered by very real consequences from the adventure that will never go away, rather than everything being saccharine.

In mass effect (which I'm also about to massively spoil), the player character comes back from having spent 2 years dead in the second game, and has the chance to try to rekindle a romance from the first game (assuming you romanced that particular character to begin with). Except, she doesn’t take you back. She has spent 2 years mourning and building herself up as a new person, and she’s terrified of losing you again to a looming galactic war and having to do it all over again. She can’t just pick up where you left off. Of course, you can still convince her with the right choices, but it’s made clear it isn't easy, and she does have to come to terms with that it’s not only possible but likely that she’ll lose you again (and indeed, by the end of the trilogy she does). You know by the end of it that she has grown.

I'm not opposed to Vax coming back, especially not with the overhanging consequences both of him and Keyleth having inherently changed as people and therefore having to build something new rather than pick up where they left off, and of him still being beholden to his duty as a champion first. Having a character cursed to outlive everyone she loves find a partner who's kind of undead and won’t die is kind of neat actually. The problem is, Keyleth shows little sign that she has learned the lesson so beautifully portrayed in dungeon meshi and mass effect. She still can’t move on from losing a loved one, still can’t accept both the inevitability of loss and how she, as an incredibly long lived person, will have to experience it over and over again. She explicitly asks Vax if he would come back to her if the Raven Queen died/was killed, all but implying she’d support this end if he said yes (he didn’t). At no point does she accept that he is truly dead. And while I'm happy she has Vax back, I'm also saddened it didn’t happen in a way that conveyed true growth of character.

[ezrasxfics]

i might be the brain of evil.

-

abstragedy

-

gangle pov

i sit alone in my red, white and black themed room, drawing, trying to avoid my mind being infested with thoughts of what happened that day. the spudsy’s adventure. you see, i’ve not been able to get it out of my head. no matter what i do, and how much people insist i’m forgiven, i can’t seem to forgive myself, to convince myself it’s all okay.

putting down my black mechanical pencil, i take a deep breath in, just the way ragatha had taught me to. i hold it in for a few seconds, counting down from 5 before i let it go, a small exhaling noise leaving my mouth. it doesn’t really solve the problem, but i suppose it’s a good short-term coping strategy. that, and drowning the thoughts out with the loud music blasting in my ears. or.. where my ears would be. it seemed to work when i put headphones over them, so i suppose it doesn’t matter what they’re called.

when zooble walked into my room, i didn’t even notice at first, listening to some old vocaloid song: ‘world is mine’. i had it turned all the way up, to the point it was almost painful. that way i didn’t have to think.

“uh.. hey, gangle?” zooble says, tapping me on the shoulder, making me jump and squeal in surprise, practically throwing my headphones off.

“oh-!! hi, zooble..! sorry.. i was just- just.. drawing!! yeah, that’s what i was doing!!��� i ramble, and internally facepalm. zooble was so cool.. i couldn’t help but be nervous around them!! and, being nervous just lead to me acting like a total fool.

“..yeah, you were pretty distracted there. you okay?”

that single question - those two words - that was enough for tears to threaten to fall from my eyes, all the feelings i tried to push away all flooding back to the forefront of my mind, impossible to avoid.

“..yeah..! im- i’m finE-!” my voice cracks a little, a tell-tale sign. that, along with the relentless trembled in my body, slumped over due to my complete lack of energy.

“you’re a terrible liar. come on, what’s on your mind?” they reply, eyes narrowing a little in concern. despite all the clear signs they cared, that little voice was telling me otherwise. why would they care about someone like me..? someone so.. evil..?

“zooble.. do you think i’m a horrible person?” i ask before i can stop myself, and immediately regret it. they probably think i’m needy, that i don’t trust them, that i’m clingy, that—

“no, why would i think that? you’ve proved you’re a good person. is this about spudsys?”

“yes-“ i squeak, nodding at this.

“look, gangle, you f**ked up. that doesn’t make you a bad person. the fact that you feel like this on its own proves that you have good intentions. you’re taking accountability, sh*tty people don’t do that. everyone’s done things they regret. i know i have, more times than i can count. let me put it into perspective for you. say i did what you did, all the same. and afterwards, i hated myself for it, saw myself as an awful person and started isolating myself from everyone. would you see me as a bad person?” they look me in the eyes, waiting for a response, a glimmer of concern in their eyes.

“..no, of course not-!!” i begin, before getting interrupted.

“exactly. let yourself be happy, forgive yourself. you’ll never be happy if you keep beating yourself up like this.”

“..i love you—“

-

and that’s where i’m gonna end the fic becauseee im an asshole!!

reblogs are appreciated, and i take requests!!

[fishwithteeth]

I agree so much. 049 is such a fun and interesting concept and all the implications surrounding him make him fascinating and scary. Part of his character that I don’t feel like I see enough people talk about is his complicated remorse over killing Dr. Hamm. How distressed he was and trying to convince himself that he cured him and that he did a good thing while on the verge of a full snap, and he’s just burying himself farther in delusions. Oh it’s so fun and I could talk about it for days. He’s so scary when you take him for what he is at his base, and what makes him so scary is his delusion and you’re not going to be able to convince him otherwise, he’s an unstoppable force. And you could build on that so much, I have in my own free time.

The joy of a fandom is you get so many takes on the same character, but unfortunately, most of what I see is either “049’s a mindless murder monster” or, as OP said “I’m autistic skinny femboy gay brainless in heels” (lmao). While the language is aggressive, I see the sentiment. And don’t get me wrong, people have the right to draw or write a character however they want, I’m not hating or discouraging, it’s social media do what you want. But I will say it is kinda disappointing to see him get so incredibly dumbed down to a whole lotta nothing. (Not saying that depictions of 049 being gay or otherwise dumb him down. But most media I come across where he is gay or otherwise, oftentimes makes that the centerpoint of his character.)

This is my own take, and you can disagree with it if you want; What happened with this fandom, I think, is kinda similar to what happened with Undertale but on a much smaller scale. It got a lot of a traction a while ago, got a lot of fans, people decided that 049 / 035 / Sans was hot, a lot of Rule 34 or “uwu cutesy” content was made and got pushed to the top of people FYP pages on social media, and that became the impression that people got of the whole fandom. Which consequently drove people away or gave them a negative view, because it’s not easy for someone to go clear up their views of it by just going and ‘watching the original show’ or ‘playing the original game’. SCP didn’t get off the hook easy like Undertale. There is no show for The SCP foundation, and the containment breach game is really very simple and not really story driven. SCP is a hard fandom to get into because it’s so vast and there’s no real good starting point. So people will just take what they see at face value and that will be their opinion.

I heard someone describe the SCP fandom recently as “over bloated” and I kinda have to agree. And this is coming from someone who’s loved the SCP foundation for many many years now. Anyways that’s all just my hot take.

SCP-049 is literally a dangerous anomaly. He's incredibly smart, strong, 500+ y.o, serious personality. I don't like the headcanons on him, which are unresonable and are a projection of personal desires. It ruins the initial concept and meaning of the character.

It's all because of the pestilence

[glossdebut]

PRICE OF FAME | MYG ★ CH. 4 TEASER

✧ PAIRING: yoongi x fem!reader

✧ SUMMARY: You were about ready to give up, your career nowhere near what you dreamed it’d be when you started at eighteen, bright-eyed and naive. Reality for you these past few years has consisted of pouting at a camera, ignoring whispers of your name at company events, and ensuring that the stupid, tiny designer purses they keep forcing on you can at least carry a flask. But now, you’re helping a friend in need. For the first time in a long time, it feels like you’re doing something worthwhile with your life. Too bad Min Yoongi, the newest thorn in your side, seems insistent on stopping you. 『 series masterlist 』

✧ TEASER WARNINGS: none!

✧ AUTHOR’S NOTE: this chapter is kicking my ass, y'all. that's all.

✧ TEASER WORDCOUNT: 944 words

✧ STATUS: ongoing

When you make it back to the house, you can’t break off from the group fast enough. You don’t mean to be rude, but fuck. You need a minute to process the events of the day.

In an ideal world, said processing would be done with the assistance of your best friend. That’s what Yoongi and Yijeong do, right?

Once you make it inside the house, you make a beeline for the swing out back, phone already tucked between your ear and your shoulder as you slide the patio door open. It rings once, twice, before the call is declined altogether.

SuckJin: You’re joking right?

Right.

Too bad your best friend is a traitorous snake who prioritizes his medical career over being at your constant beck and call.

You: i need to talk to you!!!!!!!!!!!

SuckJin: Are you dying

You: no?????

SuckJin: Great

SuckJin: Nothing I can’t help with over text then

You: in case i don’t tell you enough, you are the fucking worst

You: just so you know

With a groan, you plop onto the swing, thumbs tapping wildly at your phone screen as you try your best to put words to what exactly you’re feeling right now. A task that proves impossible, since you’re not really sure yourself.

You: your worst mistake as my best friend is sitting idly by and allowing me to remain celibate since kihyun and i broke up. what’s happening right now is all your fault actually

You: because now that my JK-related feelings are waning i’m convinced i would fuck absolutely anyone in my current state. that HAS to be what’s going on because there is NO other explanation for my behavior these past few days

You: I CHECKED OUT MIN YOONGI’S ASS!!!!!!!!

SuckJin: LOL

SuckJin: How was it

Why does the universe hate you so? What could you have possibly done in your past life to deserve a best friend so devoid of empathy? You should’ve listened to your gut back in middle school, when it told you to steer clear of the weird, egotistical theatre kid with the bowl cut.

You: NOT the point you freak

SuckJin: What is in the air in Jeju lol

SuckJin: Maybe u two just need to bang it out

What the fuck!

You feel the heat flood your cheeks in an instant, indignantly typing what is sure to be a complete disembowelment of your best friend, but the sound of the sliding glass door opening stops you in your tracks.

It’s Yoongi. Of course it is.

Cigarettes in hand, he crosses the garden until he reaches the swing. Instead of joining you, though, he leans against one of the supports, holding the opened pack out to you in offering.

“No, thanks,” you cheep, stuffing your phone in the pocket of your sweatshirt as you will the flush in your cheeks to die. Seokjin deserves to be left on read for his crimes.

Yoongi shrugs, patting his pockets in search of a lighter. When he finds it, you watch the warm glow illuminate his face as he brings it to the end of his cigarette and inhales deeply.

You feel so far out of your depth here. It’s Yoongi’s house, Yoongi’s garden—even if you’ve staked your claim on this swing since the night you arrived, everything you’ve helped yourself to here belongs to him. Jeongguk included.

Yoongi is well within his rights to have a cigarette wherever he pleases. You just didn’t think he’d prefer to have one here, with you.

“You looked like you had fun today,” Yoongi says, the low hum of his voice effectively breaking you out of your thoughts.

“I did…” You shift positions on the swing restlessly, unfolding your legs and wincing as you stretch them out in front of you. “You looked like you had fun, too,” you offer.

“Mm.”

Talkative as ever, this guy. You guess it’s up to you to keep the conversation going.

“You looked goofy in that hat, though,” you add, your lips quirking up at the corners faster than you can stop it.

Yoongi raises an eyebrow at that. “Yeah? Maybe I should give it to you, then, dollface. You’re the model, after all.”

Dollface.

He keeps calling you that, doesn’t he? He called you that the first night you met. He must mean it as an insult, an implication that your looks are all you have going for you. That’s how it felt the first few times, at least.

Still, you can’t help but notice that this is the longest conversation you and Yoongi have had since your fight last week. You’re both being so shockingly peaceable, you can’t help but comment on it.

“So… I had fun, you had fun,” you mumble, lazily kicking your feet to push the swing back and forth. “Crazy concept that you and I can have fun in the presence of each other.”

“Crazy.”

“You can admit the truce was a good idea. It’s okay, I won’t tell anyone you were wrong.”

Yoongi’s eyes meet yours. For a moment, he doesn’t say anything, just takes a slow drag of his cigarette as he considers you. You shrink, pinned as his eyes scan over your face for so long it feels unbearable.

And then he’s moving, cigarette tumbling to the ground as his shoe stubs out the orange glow. Hands swiping ash off of denim. Your eyes track each movement against your will, until you shake yourself out of it and stare at your shoes instead.

“We’ll see.”

There’s the squeak of the sliding door, and then your only company is the smell of smoke and your phone buzzing in your pocket.

✧ TAGLIST:

@kkaetnipjeon @ktownshizzle @joonary @jajabro @pitchblack0309 

@ot72025 @futuristicenemychaos @tea4sykes @sugainmybowl @wobblewobble822 

@this-most-assuredly-counts @ohnothisnameisalreadytaken @sugafun @whoa-jo @amarawayne 

@kimsaerom @bangtangsworld @jimingirl95 @jadestonedaeho7 @notsevenwithyou

@perfctlyunstable @yoonmetogether @kpophosblog @chimmchimmm @nnybtitts08

@itsmina29 @sophia--915 @jeanjacketjesus @kiki-zb @velvetskize

@sugar-snap @namjoonsbuspass @1800lxcifrrr @angellekookie @binniesbabe

@jalexad @daskewl @rebloginfics @ennvfv @curse-of-art

@tarahardcore @valhallawhispers @chimmisbae @broken-glowsticks @bontensbabygirl

@silencionyx @dropdeadbec @lilifiedeans @darklyceremonials

[winniethewife]

Say the words and I’ll be home

(Remy LeBeau/Gambit x F!Reader)

Warnings: Angst with a happy ending

Words:1504

It was the middle of the night. She just needed to get out without anyone noticing. Well, without anyone stopping her, it was impossible that no one knew she was leaving. That was the funny thing with the X-men, someone always knew something. She had made sure that she hadn’t let on at all that she was going to leave, made plans with people for the next day, and made sure her students were assigned homework due soon, all good signs that she was going to be there. However in reality she’d been planning to leave for a long time now. She needed to figure some personal stuff out, she needed space to figure out who she was beyond an X-man, beyond a mutant, beyond this one life she’d known since she was a kid.

“Wher’ ya’ goin’ ‘tis late at nigh’ cher?” The familiar voice tickles her ears, Remy LeBeau. His familiar dialect and presence was both a curse and a blessing in her life. So many late night talks, so many close calls, so many missed chances. Too many. This was the hardest part, leaving the person she wanted to love behind. She turned to look at him.

“Just going on a walk Remy, I’ll be back later.” She lied with a smile on her face. It was painful to see those red eyes closely examining her from the doorway he was lurking in. So many times she had looked into those same eyes and spoke of things she had never told another soul. Remy raises an eyebrow at her, tilting his head slightly.

“Mhm. Now wher’ I ‘eard tat before? Been tellin’ tat tale for long time now.” He remarked pushing himself off the door frame and closing the distance between them. “You wanna tell Gambit wher’ you goin’? Or do ya’ need him to guess?” he mumbles, gently taking her chin between his forefinger and thumb, tilting her gaze to meet his. She instantly pulled away, knowing if she let him convince her to stay even one more night she would never leave.

“I can’t stay Remy. I need to figure this out, alone.” She added that last bit knowing He would insist coming with her. He instantly deflated as she moved away from him. He knew what she needed, but that didn’t mean he wanted her to go. Understanding didn’t make it any less painful.

“I know cher, I know. I jus’ didn’t ‘spect to see ya’ go so soon. Didn’t wanna see ya’ go at all.” Remy looked terribly downtrodden. He hadn’t been able to really tell her how he felt, at least not in the way he wanted to, there was never the perfect moment when the planets aligned in the right way, the sunset wasn’t the perfect color or the wrong song would play. Maybe that was his problem, he had been so sure that the perfect moment was out there waiting for them that he never tried to make it happen before then, and now it was too late. She was leaving. “Nothin’ I can say ta make ya’ stay right?” he asked just to be sure. She shook her head.

“Not this time Remy.” She said softly as she made her way to the door. Remy stood there and watched her go, He didn’t want to, but he couldn’t stop her. Could he? Should he? The door closes and he ran his hands over his face before sighing deeply and taking off after her.

“Wait cher! Lemme walk ya’ off campus, jus’ to the gate.” He called after her as he leans out the door way. She turns and looks back at him, she knew that she could try to tell him no, but he wasn’t going to listen.

“Alright fine, But only to the gate.” She relented, waiting for him to catch up to her, which only took a second. As they walked together the conversation was anything but easy, an unusual problem for them. His fingers brushed hers as he walked by her side, the urge to take her hand in his was biting at him, its teeth sharp and painful. Yet he resisted. Why? He wasn’t sure. Shouldn’t he be trying to get her to stay? She didn’t look over at him, she kept her eyes forward. As they get close to the gate Gambit realizes he only has one chance to make a perfect moment. He grabbed her hand and turned her to face him, his hands on her shoulders.

“I shoulda told ya’ long time ago. I shoulda told ya’ that, well, I need ya’. I can’t think ‘bout you not bein’ around. Just the thought of it, cher, makes my blood go cold.” He spoke sincerely, his voice filled with love and emotion. He looked at her and waited, prayed that she felt the same, that she needed him too. He watched as the tears well up in her eyes and his heart ached, this wasn’t the perfect moment he had been wanting, this was his last chance.

“I’ve been waiting for you to say that, but it doesn’t change that I need to go.” She mutters as tears fall down her cheeks. Remy wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into a tight embrace.

“I know. I jus’ need ya’ to know… If ya’ ever need me, don’ matter where, don’ matter when, ya’ jus’ call, ya’ hear?” His voice cracked with emotion. He didn’t want to let her go, didn’t want to lose her. She was the sun, the moon, and the stars to him.

“I will, and I’ll come home, Remy, I promise.”

~

When she left that night Remy wanted to believe her that she would come home when she was ready. He really wanted to think that she would come home. But after two years without word, he couldn’t keep his hopes up anymore. He didn’t look to see who was coming in the door with the hope it would be her. He didn’t pick up the phone and expect to hear her voice on the other end. He had tried to convince himself he was okay with that. That he could move on and live without her. However everyone around him could tell he wasn’t okay with it, he wasn’t really himself. So whenever she was spotted somewhere, or she had intervened in a situation out in the field, they all hoped it was a sign she was coming home.

By the end of two years away from the x-mansion she wasn’t really sure if she had figured out who she was, or what she was supposed to be out in the real world. What she had figured out was that she didn’t want to do any of it without him. Everywhere she went something would remind her of Remy. More and more often she was seeing his face in places she didn’t think possible. Every deck of cards, every corner café, every corner table in a hole in the wall restaurant, He was there. She couldn’t run away anymore. She needed to come home.

~

Remy was outside the Mansion, leaning off to the side of the basketball court as he watched some of the younger members of the X-men run around. Life had felt so empty since she’d been gone. He felt like himself in so long, and he knew the others had seen it too. The way his signature smirk didn’t quite reach his eyes anymore. So when he heard a familiar voice calling his name he was so sure that he was hallucinating. She approaches him, her eyes a little more tired, her stance a little more guarded. He stood up, eyes wide as he looked at her.

“I…Cher, you gotta tell Gambit he ain’t dreamin’ righ’ now. Is it really you standin’ here?” He walks up to her, quick to close the distance between them. Holding her by the hips as he looked into her eyes, tears threatening to fall from his own. 

“It’s me, it’s really me.” She whispers. “I told you I’d come back, I promised.” She held his face in her hands, running her thumbs across his cheeks reassuring him that she was truly there.

“Mon dieu, it’s really you, cher… was startin’ to think ya’ were gone fo’ good.” He muttered resting his forehead against hers, pulling her in. His need for her to be close to him was overpowering any other thought.

“I couldn’t stay away any longer Remy. Everywhere I went it was like you were calling me back, telling me to come home.” She said softly, her hands creeping up into his hair, leaning in ever closer.

“Now you’re ‘ere, and I ain’t ever lettin’ ya’ go.” He vowed. His breath against her skin, his smile lighting up his eyes as he looked at her. He never needed anything as much as he needed her in his life. She was home, in his arms, where she was meant to be.

~

Masterlist

Taglist: @silvernight-m @boredzillenial @queerponcho @ominoose @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @lover-of-books-and-tea

[the-sin-hole]

headrush

stanxreader flashfic, 1k words gender neutral, smoking, no warnings apply

+++

“I don’t give a shit what Saturn looks like,” Stan says, trying to sound abrasive, but the smile forming around the unlit cigarette between his lips betrays him. “S’far as I’m concerned what happens up there is nunna my business ‘til some aliens come down here and try to abduct me.”

You’re standing in the yard of the Mystery Shack under a sea-dark sky slathered in bright white pinholes. Stan threw another party at the Shack and most of the cleaning fell to you two. A month ago you’d expect him to order the kids do it. But you’ve watched him soften over the weeks since they came, and tonight he only made them clean up half of all the spilled drinks and tracked-in dust and scattered confetti before allowing them to call it a night. He toothlessly harangued you to stay late and help under the guise of owing him one after letting you drink all the Pitt from his fridge yesterday, but you didn’t need convincing. It was enough just to spend one on one time with him.

After doing a perfectly respectable half-assed cleaning job, the two of you retired to sit on the porch for some well earned smokes. Stan quit for the sake of the kids, but sometimes he can’t help himself from bumming a stray or two from you. You handed him one before he even asked as you stepped outside into the warm summer night air. You were immediately struck by the sky, letting in a small gasp of air at the sight of so many clear stars. You pulled Stan by the crook of his arm into the grass with you and started pointing out the celestial entities you were familiar with. Stan wasn’t looking at any of it. His eyes were fixed on you.

Your voice faltered as you pointed out Saturn, when your eyes darted back to him and found his gaze. It was unreadable. Part of you thought, if you tried really hard, you could see something in that gaze that looked a little soft. The thought made something in your gut writhe.

You broke the eye contact, instead putting the cigarette in your mouth and holding up your lighter to its end. It took a few spins of the flint wheel but it lit, and you pulled in the meager flame, sucking the filter several times in quick succession to let the heat gain purchase before letting the lighter falter. You handed it to Stan, risking regained eye contact and catching his small smile just as he claimed his indifference to the stars.

You snort and roll your eyes at the bold proclamation. “Oh wowwww, mister cool guy here is too big and tough to care about the vast wonder of space, huh?”

“You better believe it,” he replies, tilting his head down to meet the lighter in his hand and shifting the cigarette between his teeth at the front of his mouth. He spins the wheel a couple times to no avail, a little harder each time, furrowing his brow as he repeats his attempts. “What’s space ever done for me, anyway?”

You smile as you pull on your cigarette. He makes a frustrated “Eh” as more clicks of the lighter prove fruitless. His eyes dart up and he looks at you through his thick grey brows— his gaze is once again unreadable, but it sends something through you. He’s been doing that to you a lot, lately. Just being close to him can make your heart beat fast, something that at first was highly frustrating, but now you can’t help yourself from chasing the small highs, each casual graze against his arm or lingering eye contact feeling just as good as a deep inhale of fiberglass and nicotine.

You’re about to interrupt your current inhale to ask why he’s looking at you when his eyes dart down to your lips.

He reaches a hand up and lightly grabs your jaw, four fingers on one side, thumb on the other. You feel like you’ve been punched in the stomach. Heat radiates from that gut punch through your entire body in an instant. The two fingers you had gently resting on either side of the filter in your mouth twitch, almost flinging the cigarette out of your mouth entirely. His eyes are cast down, not looking you in the face, which you’re grateful for, as you’re sure you look ridiculous. You can feel your eyes widening, the heat flooding your face.

Stan leans in. The smoke you just inhaled is now caught swirling in your lungs as you hold your breath. He positions the tip of his cigarette to yours, the fingers grasping your jaw tightening just a little bit to make sure you don’t throw off the alignment. He purses his lips and draws in the heat, igniting it. He could pull away now, if he wanted. But he draws just a few more times. After seconds that stretch into an eon he slowly leans back. He leaves the fingers on your jaw for just a moment longer than he needs to. Just long enough to send another punch to your gut.

His hand finally leaves you, moving to the filter in his mouth, ready to take it once he’s finished his first long drag. He straightens up and finally meets your eyes once again. You’re still holding your breath. He removes the cigarette from his lips and exhales through his nose, the smoke coming out in great furls. You can see a slight smile behind the smokescreen as he says,

“Space is for suckers. I got everything I need right down here.”

You finally pull the filter from your mouth. His eyes dart down quickly to watch you let out a deep exhale, smoke spilling from your lips as they twist into a smile. The windless night lets the smoke hang in the air between you, small plumes lazily intertwining. When his eyes find yours again, there’s no mistaking it. His gaze is soft.

[jimmyscocopuff]

😵‍💫 jimmy……

i hope that when i say that i don’t see jimmy as turbo pedo rapist woman-beater hitler it doesn’t sound like i think he’s redeemable or good or anything. i just think jimmy’s heinousness is something that’s not obvious to most people he’s meeting for the first time, and i think when he does bad stuff it needs to be something he can justify to himself. like i think that if you met jimmy at a bar and decided to hook up with him you might think he’s normal and maybe even charming and down to earth but if you get to know him more you start to think “oh he’s got a couple red flags but im sure it’s nothing” to “okay holy shit he’s kinda fucked up” and tbh hot take.. i don’t really know if jimmy would hit a woman he was seeing. i think he’s a lot more likely to be manipulative, i think the most physical he might get is getting in your face to intimidate you, but i think no matter the reason hitting a woman would be hard to justify himself unless you like… attacked him first and genuinely posed a real threat. i think that’s the heinous part of jimmys abusive-ness, he’s the kind of guy that would make you literally doubt if you were actually abused and maybe it was actually your fault. (i remember that he’s obviously physically aggressive with post crash curly but ill be real…. all the characters are super extreme post crash because they’re in survival mode. like anya is not normally someone who is meek and stutters a lot.)

i hope i don’t get killed for talking about how jimmy assaulted anya cause like it was rape no doubt but i really don’t think he roofied her because 1) wood alcohol would have killed her probably 2) she clearly remembered it was him (jimmy mentioned the roofie makes people possibly not remember what happened and i think swansea didn’t even really remember). i really could see jimmy coercing and maybe intimidating anya a bit cause that way he could justify to himself that “oh well she did consent technically! after i convinced her to 😁” (but tbh i think… he also was probably aggressive during the act because well.. that does suit him) i think anya was probably the only other person besides jimmy who was incredibly stressed at the news they were getting fired and was in an incredibly vulnerable and malleable state and jimmy prob recognized that and took advantage IDK THO IM NOT WRONG ORGAN.

i could see jimmy being the kind of guy to get in fights but i think he only fights people he really knows he will win against. i think he’s probably a decently muscular and tall dude tho so he probably could win a decent amount of fights but tbh jimmy actually strikes me as someone that prefers to use sneaky and manipulative methods. thats why he roofied swansea instead of just telling him the situation, when you think about it he didn’t even really try to think of any other solutions to get to anya and curly LFNSJCJDJCB

and to be quite frank i just think jimmy being this major psychopath who just beats up women and rapes people all the time without a care in the world is just so…. uncompelling 😭 but that’s just me ✋🙂‍↕️🤚

also this is just me thinking but like i think most of jimmys reasoning for crashing the ship were due to the pregnancy, not the possibility he could go to jail since most of his hallucination motifs revolve around the baby horse and babies crying etc etc. jimmy errr uhh finishing in anya was probably an example of his poor impulse when he’s in a stressful situation tbh

[rummikubcube]

*Valkyrie arrives to help her gf*

Kamala: wlw, 17K words, Heroes To Friends To Lovers, Carol Danvers whump, Marval, hurt/comfort.

[lesbiansanemi]

Currently trying not to vomit over the fact that I essentially just lost almost a thousand dollars brb

[uglygirlstatus]

currently trying desperately to convince my friend that Riverdale is a camp masterpiece and one of the greatest shows of all time and to watch it with me but they refuse to believe me...they are convinced its stupid and dumb and nothing more...how do I change their mind

unfortunately some people are simply beyond help. I have been unable to convince many of my friends to watch for years now. I somehow got my forty year old coworker to give in but she was a HATER the whole time and gave up in season 4. you just have to let go and hope Riverdale finds them when they are ready.

[petrichormore]

also still seeing the idea that Forever’s excuse for throwing bad in jail over the mass furniture theft is an actual logical reason. and um. it’s not it’s complete bullshit. he made that shit up on the fly after he realized pretty fast that it was a fuck-up and that he couldn’t undo it because he was being pressured by the other islanders. because he’s the president.

like I understand why he’s sticking to that story, q!forever is always put in the most difficult positions. It makes total sense for him to do it and it’s not even that unreasonable - but this isn’t one of those situations where q!bad is misrepresenting the situation and trying to trick q!forever into believing he did something he didn’t do. it’s fully q!forever that’s doing the misrepresenting in this case - his flawed reasoning is an excuse for him to hide behind and it’s not meant to be logically sound. if you think about it for more than 2 seconds it falls apart completely.

[tiredf-o-u-r]

Hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh super mega community have an ounce empathy for more than two white guys challenge please please please

[sideeve]

⠀⠀⠀“WHAT?! SEX BAN?!”

﹅ contains ;; gojo satoru , kento nanami , choso kamo , toji fushiguro , ryomen sukuna , geto suguru

﹅ alt title ;; how long the jjk men can withstand the sex ban

﹅ warnings ;; sorta sub!choso , whiny!choso , toji's part is more explicit than the others , this is my first time writing for some of the character so i'm sorry if i didn't describe them well

GOJO SATORU (3 days)

“are you serious?” gojo groans, slumping forwards. gojo watched in disappointment as you crossed your arms, looking away from him. "you did it so you have to pay." for weeks, you've been trying to tell gojo to separate the colors from the whites while doing laundry. him just wanting to get it over with, he dumped them all in the same load, ruining some of your favorite pieces of clothing.

"baby, please. i won't do it again," he begs, kneeling in front of you. but to no avail, you stood your ground.

it only took him 3 days to convince you to wave your white flag, surrendering to his seduction. "you look good in my shirts." gojo's hands caress your hips as he presses his chest to your back. "i would be in my clothes if you would just listen to me." you huff, "i never said i was disappointed." gojo whispered, his hard-on pressing on your ass.

“please. just drop the ‘sex ban’. i said i was sorry.” his lips make a trail of kisses on your neck. you needed him too. whenever he wasn’t around, you would use your toys, trying to not let gojo know you were sexually needy. but they didn’t work.

RYOMEN SUKUNA (not happening!)

no. just no. it’s funny that you even thought about putting that in motion. sukuna was too desperate for sex but never wanted to admit it.

“no,” he stood above, crossing his arms, making himself seem bigger than you (as if he even needed to do that). “you can’t deprive me of sex, woman.” he grunts. “but i can, kuna. that’s what you fail to realize.” you tut, standing up to walk away.

one of his four arms wraps around your waist, throwing you back on the soft surface. "you're not going through with this." he growls in your ear, crawling go top of you.

how dare you even think such a thing? you were his woman, his twin flame. you were the only person he showed the littlest respect to and you decide to do some foolery like this.

he tugs your shirt over your head, your bra coming next. his rough hands slide over your chest. "such beauty..." he whispers. "i'll make sure you never think of this again.

KENTO NANAMI (it was on accident)

his job was taking him away from you. between being a jujutsu sorcerer and a businessman, he couldn't find time to be a partner for you.

due to the lack of attention you were receiving, you became sexually pent up, having the urge to pleasure yourself at the worst times. the feeling of neglect was creeping up on you. some days, you forgot nanami even lived with you.

"love, i'm home." nanami tugs off his tie, tossing it to the side. "i don't know how long i can take of this." he rubs his temples, deeply sighing as he led himself to your shared bedroom. before his hand touched the cold metal knob, he heard your muffled moans and the squelching of your cunt.

he slowly opens the door, peeking in the room before fully entering. "it seems i've neglected you." he watches as you quickly cover yourself as if he hasn't seen you naked many times. he unbuttons the top of his shirt as he saunters to the edge of the bed, removing the covers off you.

"seems like i have some things to make up for."

CHOSO KAMO (not even a day)

"please." he whines, his head resting on your lap as he looks up at you. ever since you shared your first time with choso, he's been going at it with you like rabid dogs. if he wasn't inside you, his head was squished in between his thighs.

"choso, i need a break." you sigh, trying to remove him from off you. his grip on your legs was tight as he put his face in between your thighs, shaking his head. he was acting like he couldn't survive without your cunt somehow being involved.

"i swear, i'll leave you alone after. just please," he whined. you couldn't resist him for much longer. you hated when he got all whiny like a baby. he was spoiled because of you.

"fine." you undo the tie of your sweatpants before his hands swatted yours away, tugging your pants and panties off. "i promised you." he kisses your inner thigh before his tongue began flicking away.

TOJI FUSHIGURO (mans was balls deep in you the second you said it)

"you really think so?" he darkly chuckles, rubbing himself on you. "toji, i'm sorry. please." you whine, wiggling your ass on his cock. "i don't think you are." he teases, stepping away from you.

you whine, following him. "it was a joke." you press your hand on his chest. "did i laugh?" he tilts his head, smirking at you. you sigh, "toji, i'm sorry." you press yourself against him, your chest touching his.

"fuck." you knew he couldn't resist the feeling of your chest on him. it was like heaven to him. "turn around." he grunts, gripping your hips to turn you around, bending you over.

he easily slid inside of you due to how wet you got over time. "don't say stuff you don't mean, baby." he laughs, thrusting into your backside. it was worth it.

GETO SUGURU (you gave in after implementing it)

you wanted to test geto's limits, giving him an extra nnn moment which made you realize something. it was always you initiating sex. "geto, please. i give up." you whine, following him around the house.

he chuckles, "everyone must deal with their consequences, my love." he turns to you. he plastered a sinister smile, taunting you. he saw how much you needed him but he wasn't caving in until he heard you say it.

"i'll do anything. my hand isn't even working anymore." you simper. it was starting to become frustrating seeing how calm he was about all of this as you were suffering.

"i need you! is that what you wanted to hear?" you shout, earning a grin from him. he walks closer to you, his finger tracing your jawline, "why didn't you say that sooner, love?" he chuckles.