#you guys are always talking about how this stuff happens these days but it hasn’t YET for a show I care about

[saiintofdiirt]

Summary: Ken walks into the aftermath of Parrot finding out Wifies is actually a clone. He should be given sainthood for how little he kills Parrot.

notes: this is so not edited lol i wrote this in like. 3 hours between tasks at work. rip. this is vaguely set in the most recent UU episode in that i needed a setting and also a reason for ken wifies and parrot to be in the same place at once. no spoilers for the episode its just alluded to being the setting. uhhhh. i think thats it. enjoy.

word count for the curious: 2678. allegedly.

~~~~

Ken arrives in the meeting room with a hop in his step. He’s been looking for Wifies everywhere, but Dean let him know that Wifies was talking with Parrot, and now Ken can finally show him the little tricky trap he’s been working on! He’s proud of himself. It’s a really good design! So he’s hopping into the room like a rabbit instead of a cat.

Parrot stands alone at the head of the table, back to the door. Just Parrot.

Bleh.

“Yo,” Ken greets even though he still feels the urge to whack Parrot across the head occasionally. “I thought Wifies was here?”

“Did you know?” Parrot asks.

Ken can feel every single part of his body prickle with discomfort. He’s glad that Parrot isn’t looking at him, so he has a chance to lower his shoulders, and tail, and ears. And attitude. He knows, somehow, what exactly Parrot means by knowing. Ken shuts the door silently.

“Know what?” Ken asks, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

“Don’t play dumb Ken. Did you know about Wifies being a clone?”

Ken breathes in slowly. He pulls his comm out and checks the playerlist. Wifies is gone. He was here only a few minutes ago when Ken last checked, which means that whatever happened, just happened.

“Did he tell you that?” Ken asks, opening Wifies’s chat.

[_Kenadian_]: where are you?

“You know, I was so confused,” Parrot turns around, eyes distant and face blank. “When I first met him, he was such a fucking asshole. Entirely full of himself. Still the smartest guy I’d ever met, though, so when all this stuff started happening on the server, I couldn’t help but think of him. I thought I was gonna regret inviting him, yet he was so quiet and nice now.”

[_Kenadian_]: wifies

[_Kenadian_]: seriously where are you

“He was always reserved, even before, but all these little things started coming up— he couldn’t remember things well, he’d talk about weird things in his sleep, things like that. And I couldn’t even. . . I didn’t know how to piece it together, and he wouldn’t talk to me!”

[_Kenadian_]: wato

[Wato1876]: Hey!

[_Kenadian_]: have you heard from wifies

[Wato1876]: No?

[Wato1876]: Isn’t he on unstable w/ you right now?

[_Kenadian_]: he left and isnt answering my messages

[_Kenadian_]: parrot found out, idk how, and now wifies is /gone/

[Wato1876]: ok I’ll check around for him

[_Kenadian_]: thx

“Are you even listening?” Parrot asks, and Ken finally looks up at him. His expression is one of desperation. It disgusts Ken.

“No,” Ken says, voice bone dry. “You yelled at him didn’t you? God Parrot, and I was just starting to respect you.”

“He lied to me this whole time!” Parrot explodes, eyes wild as he leans his hand on the table. “From the start, he hid this from me, and I only found out by— by sheer coincidence! He was talking to someone on his comm, and said something about being a clone, and I just—”

“Wait, who was he talking to?” Ken interrupts with a frown.

“I— I don’t know, they had a deep voice, talked really particularly?”

“Must’ve been Retro. . . Retro knows?” Ken mutters to himself.

The shame Wifies stews in every day because of his clone status is something Ken hasn’t been able to push past; Wifies always says he owes his life to Ken, but rarely does he bother to share his burdens with him either. Which means at least Retro seems to be getting through to him. . . It stings a little, but Ken has bigger fish to fry.

“So you did know!”

“Parrot, why do you care!” Ken snaps, turning back to his comm and searching for Retro’s contact information. Shit. He should’ve nabbed it off of Wifies earlier. “You drove him off! He’s not your fucking problem now, shouldn’t you be happy?! There! You cleaned your friends list of liars! Aren’t you satisfied with your work?!”

“I just wanted to know the truth, I didn’t want to drive him off! He's not a problem to get rid of!”

“Well great fucking job, man, go kick rocks or something. Fuck, where did he go?!”

[Wato1876]: Found him. He’s at the factory.

[Wato1876]: Ken, his comm is cracked right in half. He’s stuck here again.

Ken feels everything in him rear like a lion. He closes his comm and tucks it into his pocket. Slowly, oh so slowly, he stalks around the table towards Parrot, holding the hilt of his sword in a loose grip. Parrot follows his path with his eyes, feathers puffing out and fists clenched.

“Did you break his comm, Parrot?” Ken asks casually.

“No,” Parrot replies.

“Parrot. Tell me the truth. Did you break Wifies’s comm? Even by mistake?” Ken’s gums ache. He’ll dig his teeth into Parrot’s thin throat. He’ll rip his flimsy little esophagus out.

“No, no. I didn’t. I didn’t touch him. I didn’t. I wouldn’t.”

“I don’t know if you wouldn’t, Parrot, but I swear to everything you hold dear, if I find out it was you who broke his comm, you are going to wish I had just killed you instead,” Ken hisses out.

“His comm is broken?” Parrot echoes faintly, and it’s like gravity returns to his world, his feet landing back in reality.

“I don’t think you deserve an answer, Parrot, but yes.”

Ken tries to breathe through his anger. He’s going to believe Parrot for now.

[_Kenadian_]: ill be there soon

[Wato1876]: Bring a replacement comm?

“I was mad,” Parrot sounds wretched. “But not— I don’t care that he’s a clone Ken. I just felt like he didn’t trust me.”

Killing Parrot would make Wifies even sadder. Killing Parrot would make Wifies even sadder. Killing Parrot would make Wifies even sadder. Killing Parrot would make Wifies even sadder. Killing Parrot would make Wifies even sadder.

“I never trusted you, Parrot, not once, not for a single moment, but you made Wifies happy. I don’t know what he sees in you, but he was happy playing second fiddle to your stupid little orchestra on here, y’know? So I tried very hard to get along with you, so Wifies could stay happy,” Ken lets go of the hilt of his sword to press a sharp nail into Parrot’s chest. “You don’t understand the state I found him in before he came here, before you roped him into your stupid little games. He—”

Ken’s voice cracks and he curses, indistinct and abstract. He hates this. Leave it to Parrot to fuck everything up, just like Ken always knew he would with his lack of foresight and planning and brain. Parrot snaps up to grab Ken’s hand in a tight grip.

“Ken, I didn’t want him to leave me,” Parrot chokes out. “I just wanted to know, I just—”

“And look at where your wanting got him!” Ken spits out, yanking his hand away. “You want, and want, and want, Parrot do you even care what your wanting costs the rest of the world? What it costs Wifies?”

“He never says anything to me, he never—”

“Do you ever ask?! God Parrot, get out of your head for a minute!”

Ken runs a hand through his hair. Where is he gonna find a replacement comm? He might have something in one of the prison servers he frequents, but his head is scrambled, he can’t quite sort through his inventory in his head to figure out what he has right now. He may have one in his escape kits. . .

“Ken,” Parrot breathes. He finally realized what he’s done, it seems. Ken wants to stab him in the stomach. “Ken, I care about Wifies more than anyone else. You know that right? He knows that right?”

Ken pulls at his roots.

“I don’t know anything about Wifies right now,” Ken finally says, exhaustion creeping into him as his adrenaline runs dry. “I can’t contact him right now. He gets. . . bad, when it comes to the clone stuff. God, Parrot, what the hell have you done?”

Ken doesn’t wait for an answer. He leaves the server and lands in his solo world, scrambling around his storage before finding a dusty old comm he hasn’t used since he customized his current one. Landing near the factory is always a displeasure, but he pushes his feelings aside and enters. It takes a little searching, but he finds Wifies and Wato in the office, laid out on the floor next to each other.

“Wifies,” Ken says, more to say something than having anything to say, and he sits next to Wifies.

“Sorry for scaring you,” Wifies says. His voice is hoarse, and his eyes are bloodshot. “My comm broke. I dropped it while it was open, and I fell on it.”

“I brought you an old one I had laying around,” Ken says, bringing a hand up and running his fingers through Wifies’s curls slowly. Wifies closes his eyes. “What happened?”

Wifies doesn’t answer at first, just breathes evenly and relaxes each part of his body. He's so tense. Ken wishes he had killed Parrot.

“Parrot found out,” Wifies whispers. “I was talking to Retro. He’s been. . . helping me decipher some stuff from the notes. It was important. And I called him, and Parrot heard, and he was livid. That I hadn’t told him. That he couldn’t trust me. So I left.”

“He’s an asshole,” Wato says, and both Wifies and Ken turn to look at him in shock. “What?”

“Wato, there’s a reason why we’re such good friends,” Ken says with a grin. “Because I, too, believe Parrot is an absolute asshole.”

“You guys always knew, but I lied to him,” Wifies says. “I don’t know if he’s an asshole for being upset I didn’t tell him.”

“Yes he is,” Ken and Wato say together.

“There’s no reason to defend him out here,” Ken scolds, scratching Wifies’s scalp lightly.

“I don’t hate him, Ken,” Wifies lets out a deep, winding sigh before sitting up slowly. “Can I have the comm? I need to message Retro. Tell him everything’s okay.”

“Fine.”

Ken hands over the comm and Wifies thanks him faintly. As he boots it up and logs in, Wato sits up and gives Ken a look. Ken returns the look. Before they can descend upon Wifies and force him to talk about his feelings, the comm begins pinging wildly, messages flooding in and not stopping. Peeking over Wifies’s shoulder, Ken makes a disgusted expression at Parrot’s chat being at the top of Wifies’s DMs. Parrot is absolutely spamming Wifies’s inbox. Ken’s going to eat him for dinner.

“Ah,” Wifies says. He then proceeds to ignore Parrot to text Retro. Good. Fuck that guy.

“What does he want?” Ken asks, not because he really cares but because if Parrot pisses him off again, he can justify going at him with an axe.

“Maybe. . . Maybe not right now,” Wifies’s voice is weak.

The messages roll to a stop. Good! And then Ken’s comm starts ringing off like shots. Goddamn it. Ken pulls out his comm. It is Parrot. Awful. Now Wifies and Wato move to peek over his shoulder as his inbox becomes utterly unusable.

[Parrotx2]: Ken

[Parrotx2]: I’m sorry

[Parrotx2]: not to you

[Parrotx2]: well I can be sorry to you too but I’m sorry that I reacted like that to Wifies

[Parrotx2]: and I just need him to know that I’m sorry

[Parrotx2]: and I know you hate my guts

[Parrotx2]: but you said he was happy right? I made him happy

[Parrotx2]: I don’t think I’ve ever made someone happy by just existing

[Parrotx2]: cause fuck, it’s not like I’ve done anything for him

[Parrotx2]: Ken what the fuck did I do

[Parrotx2]: please just let him know I’m sorry

[Parrotx2]: and that I didn’t mean to blow up

[Parrotx2]: you’d think I’d be used to betrayal but with him, it felt so much worse than betrayal

[Parrotx2]: like I had failed to be trustworthy

[Parrotx2]: the reveal was a lot, but I felt more hurt than disgusted or scared

[Parrotx2]: I don’t care if he’s a clone

[Parrotx2]: I mean I care if he wants me to care. I want him to want me to care about him.

[Parrotx2]: I care about him in general

[Parrotx2]: plus whoever the guy before him was was a bitch

[Parrotx2]: he’s like so much better in a million ways

[Parrotx2]: not the point

[Parrotx2]: the point is my caring of him is not reliant on his clone status

[Parrotx2]: I can tell he’s got a comm now cause my messages are showing up as received

[Parrotx2]: does he hate me now?

[Parrotx2]: he has every right

[Parrotx2]: I can’t even pretend that he shouldn’t hate me

[Parrotx2]: Ken I don’t want him to hate me

[Parrotx2]: I don’t know if I can live with that

[Parrotx2]: I fucked up so badly

[Parrotx2]: the worst part is I trust him

[Parrotx2]: I made this whole fuss about trust and I still trust him

[Parrotx2]: of course I do, he’s the single most trustworthy person I’ve ever met

[Parrotx2]: I’ve slept in the same room as him for months and I never even worried

[Parrotx2]: he could’ve left or betrayed me or killed me literally at any point

[Parrotx2]: and he never did! even if it would’ve made his life easier

[Parrotx2]: what the fuck was I thinking?

“Ugh. Do you wanna talk to him right now?” Ken asks, turning his head towards Wifies. He gets a face full of sweet smelling curly hair.

“. . . I don’t know,” Wifies says, resting his chin snuggly onto Ken’s shoulder.

[_Kenadian_]: can you shut up. jesus.

[Parrotx2]: sorry

[_Kenadian_]: yes he has a comm now

[_Kenadian_]: he’ll talk to you when he talks to you

[_Kenadian_]: you made him cry yknow

“Ken!” Wifies hisses, cheek warming up where it’s now pressed to the side of Ken’s throat. “Why did you tell him that?”

[Parrotx2]: fuck I’m sorry

[_Kenadian_]: yeah he knows

[_Kenadian_]: just

[_Kenadian_]: give him some space

[_Kenadian_]: also dont text me like that whats wrong with you

[_Kenadian_]: i want you so dead its not even funny

[_Kenadian_]: this is the SECOND time you make him cry

“Ken!!”

[Parrotx2]: I

[Parrotx2]: what?

[_Kenadian_]: wouldnt you like to know bird boy

[Parrotx2]: why would you tell me that

[_Kenadian_]: you need to understand the consequences of what you do

[_Kenadian_]: wifies never lets you see but i do and i think you should writhe

[_Kenadian_]: you care so much? lets see.

[_Kenadian_]: writhe bird boy writhe

“That’s mean,” Wifies says as Ken closes his comm, but he doesn’t move a single muscle.

“You should’ve made it worse,” Wato says. “Should’ve told him Wifies was comatose or something.”

“Jeez, since when are you so vicious?” Wifies asks, but Ken is almost certain he and Wato are holding hands behind Ken’s back.

“I approve,” Ken says, bumping his head into Wato’s lightly. “Anyway, take as long as you want to ignore Parrot. Forever, even. I’d also approve of forever.”

Wato hums in agreement. Wifies sighs again, much lighter than before.

“Just a little while,” he says to Ken’s vast displeasure. “Just until I can stomach it. I shouldn’t have run away.”

“You’re allowed to do whatever you want, actually. Forever.”

Wifies giggles, and Ken finally feels himself relax a little. If Wifies is laughing, then it’ll be okay. He still feels anger pulsing within him like a second heartbeat, but it softens when Wifies bumps the top of his head into Ken's cheek. Not gone, never gone, but quietened enough to let Wifies speak for himself.

Ken trusts Wifies despite his own opinion. So he'll keep true and hold Wifies close no matter what.

“We still gotta talk about your feelings,” Wato says, and Wifies whines, trying to hide his face further into Ken's shoulder. 

“It's so embarrassing,” he murmurs.

“I'd be embarrassed too if I cried over Parrot of all people,” Ken deadpans. 

Wifies groans. Ken won't let him get away this time.

[juniperhillpatient]

Wait for real??????? For canon???? For real????

For real?????

[kafka-ish]

Being Art and Patrick’s roommate… OMG

I feel like you all have known each other since high school or maybe you and Art have roomed together in college and Patrick was always hanging around your guys’ dorm so after you graduate you decide why not? It’s comfortable. You all know each other. But you don’t realize how fucking awkward it is until Patrick’s roaming around shirtless in his boxers. Eating cold pizza for breakfast straight out of the fridge with a left over beer to go with it.

You get up one morning and see him lounging around the living room like he owns the place and you’re just like seriously? And he’s just like yeah, deal with it.

“Yeah but, Ren and Stimpy?” He wishes you were ogling him even though he has a girlfriend who hates the fact that you live with him but it’s fine because so does Art. Not like anything’s gonna happen…

And, yeah, part of you also wants to eyeball his abs and v-line and jaw. Not to mention the bulge that’s poking out of his—

But it’s only natural. But he’s basically your older brother so you tell him to go put on a shirt.

“Sorry, babe, laundry day.” Or sometimes he’ll say, “you wish you were lucky enough to get a paid subscription to this.” And you try to pass it off. Hope he doesn’t see you blush or brush his skin when you try to take the remote from him.

“You should be more like Art.” He hates when you say this to him. He doesn’t know what the hell that means; if you mean it or not. Patrick’s always been good with girls but he can never pick up on your sarcasm or when you’re being deadpan because the only interactions you have are petty fights over the food you had saved, the dishes, how messy he is. Basically your whole living dynamic. And you never chastise Art. Sometimes you make a point to tell him how much you love the way he organized the cabinets while Patrick’s on the couch watching re-runs of shitty reality tv he’s not even that interested in. You thank Art for the fact that you never have to pick up after him. Say stuff like at least someone got dressed today.

Patrick just rolls his eyes. Says he’s going to the gym at one so he’ll be out of your hair or okay mom or since when are you in charge?

And as much as Patrick tries not to let it get to him, it does. He confides to Art about this. “Dude… I think she’s pissed.”

“Yeah, well… You can be messy sometimes, Patrick.”

“I think she hates me.”

“She doesn’t hate you. She lives with you.”

And even though Art’s sworn to secrecy, he tells you anyway. He can’t keep his mouth shut and he wants to make things right. You guys are roommates.

You’re in your room. Art’s inside you and this is the only thing that boy hasn’t told anyone about yet. It’s just casual sex. It started in college but it just kept… happening.

“Patrick thinks you hate him.”

“What? I never said that.” Art shrugs, still shoving his cock inside you.

“That’s what he told me.” He groans. Grips the flesh of your hips. Thrusts become deeper and his forehead bumps yours. “Fuck. You’re, like, tighter each time we do this.”

“I think that’s just a myth.”

He reaches the hilt of your pussy. Moans loudly when he finishes. Stays inside for a minute.

He pulls out and his blonde curls flop onto the pillow next to yours. Messy, sweaty, spreading out in every direction. His breath is heavy. “Anyway, I think you should talk to him.”

“What would I say?”

“Actually, maybe don’t say anything.”

Your face makes a confused look at the ceiling, contemplating. Art sees this. Kisses your cheek.

“Want me to go down on you?”

[retroaria]

Domestic Life w/ Osamu Dazai ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊ ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊

• ───────── ·𖥸· ───────── •

summary: life with agency!dazai, days off, date nights, the whole shabang!

warnings: slightly suggestive at some points (not sure if MDNI is necessary but keep it in mind) NOT SAD AND MISERABLE CANON DAZAI!!! Pretend he is happy and joyous for this, why would he want to die when he has you? Not proofread!!

BSD M.LIST | enjoy 🐈 - aria

• ───────── ·𖥸· ───────── •

The days where Dazai can fully devote himself to you are unfortunately far and few. On top of that, he’s a rather forgetful man. He saves all his reports for the last minute, needing to finish them up while everyone else is already gone (or spend just as much time begging Atsushi to do them for him). He makes plans, promises, deals, all of which take up his time aside from the usual agency agenda.

You know that Dazai loves what he does, so you put up with it. At the very least he still comes home almost every night, flops himself down on the bed and wraps his arms tight around you. And he’ll still be there in the morning. flashing you a warm smile as you wake up to see him adjusting the collar of his suit, throwing his jacket over his shoulder before planting a soft kiss to your lips and heading out the door. The purely intimate moments you get to experience together always happen in the dead of night or at the crack of dawn.

Aside from that, as well as all the work related events Dazai brings you to, his days off don’t come often. Whenever the stars align and those days do happen to fall upon you, you know immediately as you wake up in the morning. He’s still wrapped around you, arms and legs, almost in a death grip. He would’ve left for work by now if he had too, not that he hasn’t slept in late before, but his suit is still sprawled on the floor of your room. He hadn’t taken the time to wash it or hang it back up because he wouldn’t be needing it the next day.

• ───────── ·𖥸· ───────── •

These days begin with an absolute power struggle in the bedroom (not the fun kind). This man will not wake up and will not let you out of bed. He will whine and groan and sometimes even shed tears at the fact that you would ever want to leave him when he finally can spend a morning with you. “Dazai we still have stuff to do today, you can just hold me captive.”

“Do you hate me Bella, is that it? Has our love truly dwindled? I finally have the chance to engulf you in my affection and you want no part of it.” He’ll give you a full Shakespearean style monologue about how cruel it is that you would deny his neediness.

“Oh my god Osamu, you are so dramatic”

Eventually you do escape his grasp and leave the bedroom to start the day, to which he must follow suit. These days are spent with Dazai following you around like a lost puppy.

He follows you to the bathroom, you guys get ready together, he sits on the toilet while you shower, talking to you through the curtain about all the recent agency drama, casually mentioning all the times he’s almost died in the last week alone. (He’s also sneaking peaks of you, slyly pulling the curtain back when you won’t notice)

On days where the two of you get to go out you always let him pick your outfit. Dazai’s list of skills typically pertain to crime and manipulation, but style and fashion is somewhere in there too. He’s usually wearing simple jeans and a crew neck, but he wants you to look like a runway model next to him. “Gosh you look beautiful, gonna make me look like the luckiest guy in the world standing next to you!” he gushes in a sing-song tone.

The first order of business is breakfast, a task which Dazai wants desperately to help you with, but always fails miserably. You opt to let him make coffee for you two, which he adorns with an ungodly amount of sugar and creamer. you’ve been drinking Dazais coffee for so long you’ve grown to like it. It’s like a sweet treat with breakfast, nothing you could complain about. If he gets his hands on a frying pan you’re truly doomed, so this is the one thing you let him have. He can handle the toaster too so he’ll make toast for you guys with jam on it that he spreads on in the shape of a heart with a smiley face in the middle “Dona’ look, can you tell what it is?” he says with a smirk of confidence on his face.

“Very sweet Osamu, your hearts are getting better and better” You can’t actually tell what it is but you know he does the same thing every time. You grab the toast from him and plant a kiss on his cheek, it’s like his reward.

One of Dazai’s favorite things in the world is going to the grocery store with you. It’s such a simple task, that always ends up being so much fun. He relishes in the domesticity of it. It feels almost intimate in a way, it’s something you both would have to do if you were apart, but you’re together, so you do it together for the both of you. He loves being reminded that you are a part of his life in every way.

But god is he troublesome

Dazai is the kind of person to stay at the sample stand and talk to the employee for forever. After about 10 minutes he knows their geographical lineage, their favorite flavor of ice cream, their mother’s maiden name, the name of the high school they went to, the name of their first love, but then he gets bored and moves on. Btw he ate the whole tray of samples while he was talking to them, but made sure to swipe one for you before he bounced. “Don’t think I forgot about you darling” he’d wink as he hands you the cup.

Once you guys get everything you need you head back home. Dazai is a gentleman and is obviously carrying all the heavy bags, but not without complaining. “I don’t remember us getting 3 tons of milk”

“I have the milk, that’s the bag with the 10lb rice”

“I don’t remember us getting 3 tons of rice either.”

When the two of you get home he acts like he just got back from a 12 hour shift, like he’s been fighting an enemy organization all the day, like he’s been strategizing with Ranpo for hours, like he just had to get rescued by Chuuya. He helps you put the groceries away and throws himself onto the couch.

Once he notices you’ve start cooking he returns from his corpse like state on the couch and peaks over at you. He likes watching you cook because you look so focused yet so relaxed at the same time (I’m sorry if you don’t like to cook oops) . He likes to try and read your mind whenever he watches you do things.

Eventually he’ll get up and walk over to the record player in your living room. As you’re chopping away you notice the feint sound of a jazzy tune ringing away behind you, before you can turn around to see the source there is a pair of hands on your hips, swaying you from side to side. “Osamu, I have a knife in my hand”

“That’s never stopped me from anything before in my entire life” he hums away, pushing his body up against yours as he lays his head in the crook of your neck. You guys stay like that as you continue to cook, him humming into your shoulder, planting soft kisses as you simply sway to and forth.

“This is really nice, but I’m about to start chopping onions.” You lied, you were already chopping them.

“Augh god, my eyes! Why would you ruin the moment!?”

“I have to make dinner ‘samu!”

After dinner you guys both enter a corpse like state on the couch, snuggled together, either watching a movie or a parallel play type thing, usually both of you reading your respective books. During this time Dazai can be rather clingy, wanting to literally lay on top of you or have you lay on top of him. He also needs to get your opinion on whatever is happening in the movie or this crazy new suicide method he saw in his book (it’s a novelty interest now, how could he want to die when he has you!)

As bed time approaches, Dazai gets into the shower and it’s your turn to sit in the bathroom with him and tell him about all of your own work drama. Unlike Dazai, your peaks behind the curtain aren’t very sly “hey I see you~” he’d say in a teasing tone.

When the two of you finally get into bed, a wave of sadness washes over Dazai. He is unpleasantly reminded that he has to go to work tomorrow. His little life with you would end once morning came and he’d go back to having to use 100% of his brain power to focus on anything but you. He dreaded the thought and all he can do now to eleviate the pain is pull you close beside him. He plants a million kisses on your face before pulling your lips against his into a deeper kiss that usually lasts until both of you are tired and slightly out of breath.

At this point you begin to drift off to sleep in each others arms. You awaken the next morning to Dazai flashing you a warm smile as he adjusts the collar of his suit, throwing his jacket over his shoulder before planting a soft kiss to your lips and heading out the door.

• ───────── ·𖥸· ───────── •

I FINALLY wrote something for my husband Dazai. I hope you guys enjoy and I can’t wait to keep writing I’m having so much fun here!! Stay safe guys and much love 🤍🤍🤍 -aria

• ───────── ·𖥸· ───────── •

[0cta9on]

And We Danced

Length: 1.1k words

Genre: Angst

Nmixx Lily x Male Reader

(Author's Note: Wrote this for a prompt thingy hosted by @mintwithchoco! Inspired by this really pretty song, do give it a listen if you have the chance :])

【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★

“...and then he just brushes past me and immediately gets on his game!” Lily huffs, pacing around your room. “Like, I get that he’s tired and all that, but at least a ‘Hi’ would be nice!”

A song you don’t recognize blasts from your speaker, fiery and tumultuous to mimic the current emotions of your friend. With how often she comes over to your place to rant about her boyfriend, it’s a wonder how she doesn’t have a consistent playlist.

“What do you think? Am I just overreacting?” she asks, slumping onto your mattress.

You shake your head. “Not at all.”

“Really? Because if I’m being crazy, I need you to tell me.”

“I know when you’re being crazy, but this isn’t one of those times.”

Lily chuckles before scooting next to you and resting her head on your shoulder. You swallow down the thoughts and words that threaten to burst from your chest, potentially ruining this good thing that you have. Things are fine. Calm down.

“What should I do now?” she asks, her words floating through the open air between the transition of songs. The next song brings in slow, melancholic piano chords paired with a heartbreaking story of unrequited love. Lily’s head sinks deeper into your shoulder like the weight of the lyrics is pulling her down and you’re her only means of support.

You should break up with him.

“You should talk to him,” you say, breathing steadily. “You said that this started happening recently, right? Maybe something happened to him and he just hasn’t told you yet. Most guys are stupid and don’t like talking about their feelings and all that mushy stuff.”

“Talk to him. Right,” she sighs. “You make it sound so simple.”

You shrug. “Things are always more difficult than they seem. It really depends on him for this to work out. You’re doing the best you can, and if he can’t see that then… maybe you should—”

Lily’s phone buzzes from across the room, prompting her to jump towards it with the desperation of a lost puppy finding its owner. Her warmth is stripped away from you in an instant, and the impending cold becomes a grim reminder that it was never yours in the first place. 

Her expression immediately sours as she checks the notification.

“Is something wrong?” you ask, worried.

“No.” Lily’s shoulders slump as she tosses her phone back on your desk with a resounding thud. “Bae just wants me to get her some ice cream on the way home.”

You fail to stifle a chuckle, earning an icy glare from those perfectly round eyes.

“I feel like I’m going insane.” She throws up her hands in exasperation. “What if I just end it all and jump off a cliff?”

“You definitely shouldn’t do that. How else will Bae get her ice cream?” you quip.

“Ha ha, very funny.”

The last bit of sunlight fades past the edge of your window just as the music dies down to give way to the next song. From the first note, you’re left reeling as memories of thumping heartbeats and unattainable closeness flood your mind like a tsunami. Flashing lights, the linoleum scent of the gym floors, your dad’s tie that your mom made you wear, every single excruciating detail of that night comes crashing down in an instant.

The night you cherish deeply, yet regret the most.

“Oh. My. God!” Lily yanks your arm, nearly pulling it out of its socket from sheer excitement. “Get up!”

“W-what?”

“Do you not remember this song!?”

“I-I, uh…” Of course you remember it. There hasn’t been a day that’s passed where you don’t think of what that damned song entails.

“Sophomore year homecoming! We slow danced to this song together! How could you forget that!?” She pouts at you, and it takes every facial muscle you have not to immediately burst out into the dumbest smile.

Without hesitation, Lily pulls your arms around her waist and intertwines her fingers behind your neck, and suddenly, you forget how to breathe, how to think, how to function like a regular human being. 

“I-I think I remember this song,” you stutter, not quite meeting her eyes.

You find yourself being transported back to that sophomore dance as the two of you sway to the beats of the music. Lily rests her head on your chest just as she did back then, and you wonder if she can hear your heartbeat as it races from the proximity. You wonder if she can hear your thoughts, what she would think about how every corner of your mind is occupied by her. You wonder what would’ve happened if you had done something, anything differently that night, if a couple words were the difference between dancing here as lovers or as reminiscing friends.

Say something. This is your only chance. After this, she’ll be gone forever.

Yet, just like that night so many years ago, you stand quietly like a fool, damning yourself to an eternity of forever staying out of her reach.

“That was fun,” Lily giggles as she steps away from you, her fingers lingering in between yours. “I should probably head back though, it’s getting kinda late.”

“Um, yeah, sure.” Regretfully, you let go of her hands and walk her to the front door, trying to not let your mess of emotions reveal itself in your expression.

“Maybe we can hang out again tomorrow! If you’re not busy of course.”

“I’ll have to check my schedule, but yeah, I would like that.” Of course you don’t have anything planned for tomorrow. Even if you did, you’d move Heaven and Earth just to spend another moment with her.

“Alright, I’ll see you tomorrow!” Lily pulls you into a hug like she always does and you fight off every urge screaming at you to keep her close.

“Yeah. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Long after the door shuts behind her, all you can do is stand there, motionless, like life suddenly stops mattering when she’s not around. This is all your fault, really. It shouldn’t be a surprise that guys would line up for an inkling of a chance with her; in fact, you could fill up entire libraries with books describing how perfect Lily is in every single way, forever pondering how a single glance can fill you up with so much joy and sorrow that it threatens to drown you. You had more than a decade head start, you should’ve been the first one in line.

And yet, your own cowardice got in the way.

Again. And again. And again.

That song plays in your head once more, its melody haunting yet comforting. In a perfect world, the two of you would be able to dance all night to a song that never stops.

[trippinsorrows]

with me + part twelve

authors note: you guys are seriously the nicest and most supportive. the comments always make me stupidly smile and laugh cause not a single one of ya'll is gonna let bdj die off. 😭 also, i know a couple of people have commented and asked about the backstory with joe and jadah, and i promise it'll be explored deeper. there's a subplot i'm working towards unveiling here, and it's nearing the reveal part, but we're not there yet! i promise, though, it's gonna be touched on!!!

i also had to chop this chapter in half, because it's honestly so much stuff, so the next update shouldn't take as long cause it's almost done.

the next two are gonna be so fun. maybe some shit will go down too. we shall see.

status: in progress // masterlist

warnings: fluff, language, some angst, suggestive themes

song inspo: with me by destiny’s child

words: 8k

taglist: @pixiedust4000 @yolobloggers @southerngirl41 @msbigredmachine @wanderingreigns

“So let me get this straight, in the time that I’ve been gone, you and Joe told Callie he’s her dad, you found out Amir and Mariah been fucking behind your back, and you had a semi mental breakdown after running into your father and, plot twist, long lost sister.” She counts each off with a finger, then asking. “Did I miss anything?”

Nodding, you take a scoop of your ice cream before adding, “Joe told me he loves me.”

In true Alexis fashion, she randomly arrived in town the night before, completely unaware of all that transpired in her absence. So, you take this time while Callie sleeps to catch her up. 

“Did I miss anything that I didn’t already know?” You give her a look, and she rolls her eyes, also eating some of her Rocky Road. “Come on, Y/N. Ray Charles could see that man is in love with you. You’re the one being stupid by not reciprocating.” Before you can push back against her, even if she isn’t entirely wrong, she switches topics. “Now when are we gonna go beat Lieriah’s ass? I told you it was something about that girl. She’s a snake.”

Typically the one to defend your friends, it’s hard to find it in you to come to Mariah’s aid. Nevermind the fact that she knows the shitty things Amir has done to you over the years, it’s the fact that she’s supposed to be your best friend but is messing around with same ain't shit ex? You would never do something like that to her, but maybe your loyalty to her has always been stronger than hers to you.

“I’m not worried about him or her. They’re not worth it.” That’s partially true, but the sting of betrayal is slow to pass and even slower to heal. You’ve always had mid to low expectations for Amir, but Mariah? That’s a crushing blow. “I have more important things to figure out.”

She studies you, leaning back against the headboard. “Your sister.”

“Bianca,” you correct. It’s too uncomfortable referring to her as such, even if that’s exactly what she is. 

In the weeks since the big fireworks show—both metaphorically and figuratively—you’ve tried to slowly return to your sense of normalcy. Focusing on Callie—who is an entirely different issue in and of itself that you really need to talk to your mom about—being more on top of things at work, and navigating your relationship with Joe.

He hasn’t been back to visit since Christmas, but you figured as such. Wrestlemania season has arrived, and you know better than anyone how crazy that time is, especially with him main eventing. 

But the one thing you haven’t really allowed yourself to think too much about is Bianca. You’d sent her a vague apology text a few days after your mad dash and explained that you were dealing with some things and just needed time to sort through them. That you’d reach back out when you were ready.

That still hasn’t happened, and it’s entirely intentional. 

“I remember you mentioned that you always wanted siblings?”

“Yeah, cause we have so much to bond over,” you mutter, bitterly.

“Well, you actually do have a lot in common. She’s a teacher, like you. She has a daughter, like you—” 

“You know what we don’t have in common?” You interrupt, feeling the agitation growing again. It’s not directed toward Alexis, just the situation in general. “A father who loves us.”

You were done referring to that man as your father. A father shows up. Like Joe. That son of a bitch isn’t even in the same universe as Joe. 

Her expression softens. You didn’t tell her everything, just enough for her to get the gist that he’s a piece of shit. And you definitely did not tell her about the time you went to see him. You’ve never told anyone that story. Joe is now the only one who knows, and you’d like to keep it that way. It’s just….it’s just too painful. “I had no idea that was the situation there…..I’m really sorry, girl.”

“It is what it is. I don’t need him.” And you’re not too sure if you need Bianca either. “I’m just trying to figure out if I should power through this for Callie’s sake. You should have seen how she and Taylor clicked. I would hate to take that away from her.”

“I get that,” she acknowledges. “You have to make the decision that’s best for the long run, not necessarily how you’re feeling right now.” That’s very easy to say and nearly impossible to do. “Even if you just allow the girls to interact while you keep some distance with Bianca.”

You’re partially intrigued, spooning some more cookie dough. “How would that work?”

“They don’t live here, right?” You nod. “Maybe the girls can talk on Facetime or even play some game on their tablets. That won’t cause you to interact much with mom outside of coordinating virtual playdates, and Callie still gets to spend time with her cousin, or, not cousin."

You sit on her words, not expecting to be as open to the idea as you are. It’s a pretty genius compromise. “You really do give some great advice sometimes, you know that?”

“That’s what I’m here for,” she smiles mischievously, and you just shake your head. “Now, who’s gonna knock this bitch Mariah over the head with a steel chair? Me or you? Or should we hit her with a bus, Regina George style?”

“Alexis!”

________

You clearly don’t love yourself because you decided to do both yours and Callie’s washday on the same damn day. A Sunday, at that. Meaning, you have no choice but to get it done because you have work the next day.

And Alexis being in town would be even more of a benefit than it already is if she actually knew how to do hair. Natural hair. She can lay any wig down better than Tae, but caring for coils and curls is another story. It’s why you declined her offer, and she lays knocked out in your bed, while Callie is fast asleep in hers. 

Thankfully, you have an insanely generous and sweet man who’s offered to talk to you while you power through this debacle, noodle arms, sleep deprivation, and all.

“Oh, before I forget again.” You grab the bottle of leave-in to apply more to the next section of hair. Shingling may give you the most definition, but it also gives you the most discomfort. “Can you be here May 8th?” A smile falls on your face. “Our baby is graduating preschool, and I know she’d want you there. I do too.”

“Shit, they have preschool graduations?” He seems genuinely taken back before answering. “But, of course I’ll be there.”

“I know. I used to think they were stupid, but now it’s my kid, so it’s the best thing ever. Her cap and gown should come some time in March, so I’m gonna have one of my old teammates who’s a photographer take professional photos of her.” It’s literally just preschool, but that’s still something she’s accomplished, and you want to commend the occasion the best you can. It’s been years since you’ve had professional photos of her taken anyway. Not since she was first born. “And yes, I’ll get extra for you.”

“How much—”

“Anyways, let me show you the tattoo.” Joe has already done so much, the least you can do is cover the photo costs. Even though you know him well enough to know he’ll find some way to contribute. Thankfully, the side of your hair that still needs to be shingled is clipped at the top of your head, so all you have to do is turn around and push down the thin strap of your shirt to reveal your latest ink. “He did an amazing job.”

“Shit, he did.” Joe’s agreement and approval somehow makes you even more satisfied with the outcome. Your Christmas gift to yourself was finally getting that Moana tattoo Callie has wanted to see on you since you told her you were getting one damn near a year ago. It’s on the back of your left shoulder, a black manta ray, some blue ocean-like coloring with one of your favorite lyrics from the movie: I will carry you here in my heart. You remind me, that come what may, I know the way. 

It’s one of Callie’s favorite songs but also feels like an ode to your grandma as well. 

He then asks, “do you want more?”

Readjusting your shirt and turning back around, you answer, “of course. More Disney but also….” This discussion triggers something for you, something that seems a little out there, but also maybe not. “I saw this tattoo on Pinterest that I want to get for Callie.” You grab your phone. “Let me send it to you.” It’s saved in your favorites folder and thus an easy send. Placing the phone back on the counter, you wait for him to receive and see it.

“I like it.” It’s a baby’s footprint with the name written in cursive and date of birth in print right underneath it. You’ve always wanted Callie’s name on you but couldn’t settle on a design until you came across that one. Something about it just resonates with you. 

Licking your lips, you suggest, “why don’t you get it with me?” Couples getting matching tattoos isn’t something you’re entirely against, you just don’t agree with it for people who are only dating and not married, if marriage is the goal. You remember when Amir once suggested you do so, and you literally laughed in his face. You’d soon rather get branded with a tramp stamp than have that man’s name permanently burned into your skin.

But, matching tattoos for the child you created together with the man you love. That is something you could get behind. 

And apparently so can he.

“Let’s do it.”

“Really?” You’re not sure why, but the ease of his agreement shocks you. It’s not too far-fetched when you think about it. He loves his daughter, and you’ve always known Joe to only get tattoos that have meaning. He could give you a detailed explanation for every piece of ink on his body. 

“Yeah.” There’s almost a sense of excitement in his voice, like he’s eager to have her name on him, to share this with you. “Same location?” At that, you make a face. He laughs. “Inner bicep does hurt, I’m not even gon’ lie to you.”

Yeah, you’ve definitely heard as such, and considering his entire right side is tatted, he’d know. “I don’t know. I have to think about it. I might need to squeeze your hand the whole time, or I’ll end up punching the tattooist.”

He laughs, “you can squeeze my hand.” Joe then asks, “when do you want to get em’ done?” You start to think about it logistically, as well as financially. Tattoos aren’t cheap. “Do you want to go to the Super Bowl?”

His question surprises you because it’s such a change in topics but also….what? “Yup. And Hawaii and Puerto Rico. And then maybe if we have time, stop by Alice in Wonderland.”

He’s too good at matching your sass, retorting, “I can make the first two happen easily. The last one may be a stretch.” Rolling your eyes, you grab for the gel. “I’m serious though. My tattoo artist is based out of Vegas. The game is in Vegas this year. It’ll let me see Callie too, cause I’m having a hard time finding a gap to visit.” As he continues to speak without laughing or chuckling, you realize he’s dead serious. “I’ve been meaning to ask you to go anyway but kept forgetting.”

You need extra clarification. “Like this year's Usher concert where there’s apparently a game too?”

He rolls his eyes, providing the guest list. “It’s me and the twins, their family, some other fam…..we have a whole section, cause you know it's a bunch of us.” It’s still hard to sit on the fact that this man really just invited you to the fucking Super Bowl like it’s dinner at Golden Coral. His eyes soften. “I wanna see her. I wanna see you.”

Joe’s closing statement, so true and vulnerable, is what breaks you from your temporary state of shock. You get the sense he misses ya’ll just as much as you miss him. “Of course, we’ll go. I’m sorry, I just—I wasn’t expecting that.” And it’s true, you weren’t. “How will we get fl—”

“Don’t worry about that. I’ll take care of everything. I just need you to show up at the airport.”

That seems to be such a recurring theme with this man. He does everything he can to make things as easy for you as possible. It’s tremendously appreciated and doesn’t go without notice. 

“This is the first time she’ll be meeting the twins,” you realize aloud. Hell, his family at all. 

Joe nods, chuckling. “Yeah, they’ve been on my ass about that anyway. They want to meet her.”

Pinning down the section you just finished, you take down the next. A little over halfway done now. “Whoever you want her to meet is fine with me, Joe. I don’t even really have a say in that. She has every right to meet your family just as much as she’s had to meet mine.”

And it’s true. Unless it could present some harm to Callie, you don’t really feel like you have the right to object to things like that. You have zero desire to interfere with Joe and Callie anymore than you already have. 

“I know. I just wanted to tell her the truth before introducing her to anyone else. Less lies.” Makes sense. Thinking about Callie meeting more family brings a small smile to your face. It’s what she deserves. Family members who actually want to be in her life.

The conversation brings something else to the forefront of your mind, partially due to Joe’s confession to you on Christmas but also a question you’ve wanted to ask him for much longer than you’d like to admit. 

“So….” This shouldn’t be as nerve wracking as it is. “There’s something I want to ask you, but I don’t…..I don’t want to overstep.” If he were to tell you that he’d rather you not, that’d be fine with you, one less stressful thing on your plate. But, of course, he’s silent, meaning he’s not going to object. So….you decide to bite the bullet and go for it. “What happened between you and your wife?”

You’re certain he wasn’t expecting that to be what you asked, but to your surprise, he answers. “We were young and got married for the wrong reason. I was 22. She was 21.”

Unsure but taking a big risk regardless, you ask in a small voice. “What was the reason?”

His answer isn’t what you’re expecting either. “She was pregnant.”

It takes a second for you to process what he’s saying. Your stomach is suddenly in knots, chest feeling tight. There’s no way he’s kept something like that from you. No way in hell. “Wait, does Callie have—”

“No.”

And just like that, you know. He doesn’t need to explain. It’s painfully obvious, especially as he looks away from the camera. You have a feeling you've unlocked a painful memory he’d most likely kept tucked away. 

“I’m sorry.” It feels so stupid and unhelpful to say. What does that do for him? It doesn’t take away that experience, that loss that you can’t even begin to imagine. But, it’s all you can offer. “Just—forget I asked, let’s change the subject.” Do you have more questions? Of course. Like, why was there such a gap between their loss and the divorce? But, this is understandably a difficult and sensitive subject, and the last thing you want to do is trigger him more than you already have.

You know better than anyone how awful that can be. 

He agrees with the subject change, going along with the transition of topics, clearly grateful for your understanding. But, in the back of your mind, you can’t help but think about the fact that this man lost his firs child before he could even meet the them, and the child he had who did survive was kept a secret from him for nearly five years.

There’s a sudden sickness and disgust you feel. And it’s not towards anyone but yourself. 

Joe had every goddamn right to be furious with you about your subterfuge.

He still does. ________

“Mama, something is up with Callie.”

You’re thankful Alexis agreed to keep Callie preoccupied in the living room while you have this conversation with your mom, because Callie had another incident just this morning, slamming her door when you told her she needed to pick up her toys.

She’s never done that.

But she has done other things in the past two weeks or so, rolling her eyes or pouting her mouth at you when you say something she doesn’t want to hear, beyond typical tantrums. 

Your mom stops her stirring at the pot to turn around and look at you. “What do you mean? Is she sick?”

“No,” you answer and then realize you’re not entirely sure how to explain it. She’s not being bad, per se. Just….difficult. “She’s just been…..off.”

Genuinely intrigued, and partially concerned, you watch your mom turn the fire on low as she joins you at the kitchen table. “Tell me.”

Shaking your head, you explain. “I thought it was just me, that I was just being overprotective and hyper-vigilant, but when I picked her up from preschool yesterday, her teacher pulled me to the side and asked me if she’s been having sleep problems. I told her no and asked why, and she told me Callie has been irritable. With staff and other kids.”

“Callie?” Your mom seems just as taken back as you were hearing these words. “That doesn’t even sound like her.”

“I know, and that’s what I said at first, but then I thought about it, and she’s been crabby with me too. It’s not horrible, but it’s unlike her.”

A small part of you wonders if it has something to do with you running off on her on Christmas. It would make sense. She was doing absolutely fine before then, but it’s the timing that throws that theory off. You’ve noticed this change only in the past two weeks, well after Christmas day passed, so why the delay?

“What does Joe think it is?”

“I haven’t told him.” It’s not that you don’t want to. You’d just like to have a better grasp of what it is before doing so. Have more actual information to provide him.

“He hasn’t seen the behavior for himself?”

You shake your head. “She’s fine with him. Matter of fact, after his calls, she’s like a completely different child.” It’s watching your mom’s face settle into a look of realization that makes you ask, “what? What is it?”

“Honey” she starts with a soft chuckle. “She’s missing her daddy.”

Her answer catches you by surprise, painting your face with confusion. You’ve had a lot of theories, but that definitely wasn’t one of them. “What?”

Reaching across the table, she places her hand over yours. “Think about it. How would she react if you were gone as much as he is? She’d be a mess, cause you’re her mama, and she has a strong attachment to you. Look how easily she attached and connected with Joe. It’s always been there. Except she knows the truth now, so her attachment is even stronger.” You heed to her explanation, wise and sensible. You hadn’t even thought of it that way. “And isn’t this the longest he’s been gone without her seeing him? She’s acting out because she misses him and probably doesn’t know how to verbalize it, so it shows in her behavior.”

As relieved as you are to have an explanation that makes sense, it’s an explanation that makes you incredibly sad for your sweet child. You know how hard it is for Joe to get away right now, you understand it. It never crossed you that she wouldn’t. 

Devastated, you ask, “what do I do?”

“Talk to her. Try to help her understand. It may not make a huge difference, but it’s something.”

You nod, so so grateful for her, for all that she does for you, for Callie. For all that she’s done. Reaching across the table, you hug her tightly. “thank you, mama.” As much as it devastated you to not have that man in your life, your mom made sure to go above and beyond to make sure you knew you were loved. She played both roles beautifully, and you’re not sure you’ll ever be able to make her understand what that meant to you. 

You still haven’t really sat her down and explained everything that happened Christmas night, nor has she asked, but you know it’s because she’s trying to respect your space. It’s appreciated, but you also know you’re gonna have to eventually tell her.

Just not now.

Right now, you’ve gotta take care of your baby.

________

Even the energy in Callie’s playroom feels off.

You’re so used to walking in and finding her with that million dollar smile that makes your entire day better. Instead, you walk in and she doesn’t even acknowledge your presence. She just continues to color. 

“Hey, baby….” Disappointed, but refusing to show as such, you welcome yourself in and approach her table. “Is it okay if I color with you?” 

She still doesn’t say anything, just nods, and you do your best not to hide your sadness. You hate seeing her this down, it’s so unfamiliar, and you’ll do just about anything to fix it. 

Sitting down in the uncomfortable seat, you take a couple of her pages and pull out a crayon. “I have an idea.” At that, she looks up, slightly intrigued. “Why don’t we draw how we’ve been feeling lately? I draw me, and you draw you.” 

You scold yourself for not selling it to her better, for not telling her it’s something you sometimes do with your students. Some level of innocent peer pressure. However, she surprises you by agreeing with a simple “okay.”

It takes a second for you to register that it was really that simple. Step one is done. Now for step two. 

Grabbing some crayons, you don’t really concern yourself with skin tone, just getting something out on paper. The two of you color in silence, and you start to offer to put on her favorite playlist but decide against it. 

You want her to really think about what you’re asking. 

It’s when you see that she’s placed down her crayon and is just staring at her picture that you ask, “you done?” She shakes her head, but her eyes are on the table in front of her. “Is it okay if mommy sees it? I’ll show you mine too.”

Handing you the page, you expect an influx of emotions, but actually seeing her literal representation of how she feels is simply heartbreaking. 

She’s drawn herself, frowning, surrounded by broken hearts and a blue tear leaking from her eye. Callie did what you asked. You just wish it didn’t have you feeling so helpless.

“This means you’ve been feeling sad, huh?” You hate how your voice gives away your emotions. This is about her, not you, but it’s so difficult for you to not be impacted. No mother wants to see her child hurting, and Callie currently is. It kills you. “Callie….” Moving up from your chair, you move across to kneel in front of her, taking her hands in yours. “Have you been sad because you miss your dad?”

All you need to hear is one sniffle, and instantly, you’re reaching for her, holding and comforting her.

“It’s okay,” you soothe, kissing the top of her head. “It’s okay, baby.” She cries into your chest, and you have to hold back your own tears.

“Why doesn't he come back?” She asks in between tears, wiping her eyes. “He’s been gone a really long time.” It’s only then you realize that she’s not entirely exaggerating. Joe was last here for Christmas. It’s now the end of January. For a child like Callie, that must feel like an eternity.

“He would if he could, Callie. I promise you he would. Daddy just…he gets really busy with his job this time of the year, and he can’t leave or he’ll get in trouble.” It’s so difficult to explain this to her. WrestleMania season is inarguably chaotic and stupidly busy. Even back in the day, Joe’s trips to see you were most far and few in between during this time of year. And that was before he even had a title. You can’t even imagine how busy he must be as the literal fucking face of the company.

Enough to keep him from being able to come see you and Callie. 

You’ve just gotten so used to the dynamics of him being away for periods at a time that it never occurred to you Callie hasn’t had the same experience. That at the end of the day she’s still a little kid who just wants to be with her dad. 

It’s then that a thought crosses your mind.

“What if…..what if we went to see daddy?” For the first time since you stepped into the room, her eyes actually light up and you notice her tears lessening. “Instead of him coming to us, we go see him?”

“Really?” There’s the faintest smile on her face, and you know then that you’re going to make this happen. You don’t know how or in what way, but it will be a reality. No matter what it takes. 

“Yeah,” you answer, brushing away some of her tears. “You can go see him at his show. He’d love that.” Not as much as she clearly loves the idea alone. “Now, we’d only be able to stay a day or maybe two but—”

“Please,” she interrupts, and you get the sense that she fears you’re going to find a way to say that you couldn’t or shouldn’t go. “I’ll be a good girl. I promise.”

“Baby, you’re already the best girl.” You push back some of her hair, resting your hand against her cheek. “Mama’s gonna make it happen, okay? I promise.”

If you have to sell one of your kidneys, then you’ll just be less one organ, because you’re getting your baby to that damn show. Matter of fact, you don’t say anything to her, but you’re wondering if you can make it to this week’s upcoming show. It’s only Sunday, and that gives you a couple of days to make arrangements and secure tickets. It’s doable, but you don’t want to get her hopes up, so just in case, you say nothing.

And yes, in the back of your mind, you know she’ll see Joe in a couple of weeks for the game, but that’s too long. Your child is hurting. You need to do something now. She can’t wait that long. 

“Thank you, mommy!” She wraps her little arms around you, and just like that, you see the spark and joy that fills your days with light and laughter. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, baby.” Kissing her temple, you release her, realizing something else. “Now we can't tell your daddy because we’re gonna surprise him, okay? Can you do that for me?”

She nods, happily, unaware of the real reason. You know that you can’t tell Joe about this. Well, not now at least. This is not something to be discussed over the phone or even video chat. And if you tell him you want to take her to see him as soon as possible, he’ll know something is up. 

So, you have to move in silence. 

Coloring with Callie commences for a little longer as you value and cherish your time with her, but as soon as she’s down for her nap and before you wake Alexis from hers to tell her the news, you need to do something. It’s in that time bonding with her you realized how you’re going to make this happen.

You’re suddenly immensely grateful for that random conversation you’d had with Joe a while back regarding the fact that he and the twins have had the same phone number since they were in high school.

Pulling out your phone, you scroll through your contacts until you land on the one you need. You type, backspace, and type some more, only sending out the text once you’re fully pleased with it.

You: Hey, Jon. This is Y/N. Can you call me when you get a chance? Preferably sooner rather than later. I need your help with something. And please don’t tell Joe. It’s a surprise. 

________

God clearly wants you to bring Callie to see Joe. 

There’s just too many things that have lined up perfectly for that not to be the case. The discussion with your principal went well, though that wasn’t entirely surprising. You’ve always had a cordial relationship and know she respected your grandma. The whole school system in your town did. That was just her level of impact. But that respect has slid down to work in your favor as your principal told you to take as much time as you need.

“You’ll always have a job here.”

While not a huge concern, it’s reassuring and not entirely unsurprising. Again, your grandma’s impact definitely granted you a level of nepotism. You were slightly surprised when she actually encouraged you to take more time off, pointing out how in the almost nine years you’ve worked there, she could count on one hand how much PTO or vacation time you’ve used. And, it’s true. It was really only when Callie was sick and your mom couldn't help or you wanted to stay home and nurse her back to health that you called out. For the most part, you had damn near perfect attendance.

But, that’s certainly about to change, and you’re thankful you have a job that’s flexible enough to accommodate the change. 

And then there’s the actual getting there. You should have known when Alexis was asking questions about when you and Callie were leaving that she was up to something. You naively chalked it up to her planning her flight out, as there was no way you expected her to wait around for ya’ll to get back. Instead, she was busy buying not just her ticket to come with ya’ll but yours and Callie’s as well.

You instantly felt bad when she forwarded you the itinerary information. You couldn’t see the cost, but you weren’t stupid either. Getting flights out with such short notice had to be expensive as all outdoors. You were just going to put the bill on your credit card and work to pay it off. And, of course, when you offered to pay her back, she nearly cussed you out. As if such an offer was insulting. 

“What good is a trust fund if you can’t spend it on your college roomie and pretend godchild?”

So, while you still felt slightly uncomfortable, you were able to push it to the backburner for the sake of Callie. This is all for her, and you don’t care what it takes to make it happen. Even if it means sucking up your pride. 

And deep down, you know if Alexis didn’t do what she did, Joe would somehow find a way to compensate you. The same way his ass somehow got his card on file at the hospital and covered all of Callie’s medical bills without ever even asking you if you needed help.

You still haven’t talked to him about that, not really having or finding the right time, but it also feels a bit bitchy and ungrateful to be upset with the man for covering his daughter’s medical expenses. 

Then there’s the actual show itself. One thing you were initially concerned about was if Joe has a match lined up for this upcoming week’s show. You two have only had a couple of discussions about it but still enough for you to learn that he’s extremely hesitant to expose Callie to his wrestling persona. 

“I don’t want her seeing me like that, thinking that’s who I am.”

And you understand him fully. Roman may be a fascinating character, but he’s equally narcissistic and ruthless as he is intriguing. The complete opposite of Joe and who he is. 

Still, you’ve worked to help him understand that talking to Callie, explaining to her that he’s playing a “character” could help her understand better. You both are in agreement that she’s too young to watch actual matches, especially his as they tend to get brutal, but she can see certain promos. And she does. You let her watch a couple where the dialogue is safe enough to go over her head. And truth be told, she’s so focused on watching Joe that she's not really paying attention to what’s being said anyway. 

Needless to say, you were massively relieved to hear from Jon that Joe doesn't have a match lined up and his promo is reportedly tame and safe enough for Callie’s eyes and ears. He didn’t give specifics, but from one parent to another parent, you trust his judgment. 

And the most important thing of all is the fact that Callie has done a complete 180. She’s no longer as irritable, just the usual attitude when she’s sleepy or hungry. Just like her mama. And there’s that spark of joy in her eyes. She’s even started packing what she wants to bring with her. She knows you’ll only be there for one night, but even that can’t seem to dim her joy. 

It makes your heart swell. 

All of this brings you to your conclusion that you’re doing exactly what you should be doing. 

“Ahhh, and here it is.” The old woman’s voice breaks you from your inner dialogue as she walks toward the counter, returning from the back. “Sorry about that sweetheart.”

“No worries, Mrs. Ella.” Your eyes light when you see the item in her hand, even if it’s covered by a cloth bag. The fact that it’s ready is more than enough to make you smile. “Thank you so much for agreeing to this.”

She waves off your concern, offering a warm smile. “Your grandma was one of my best friends. As far as I’m concerned, anything you need is a done deal.”

That warms your heart. Mrs. Ella has been the town seamstress for longer than you’ve been alive but doesn’t look a day over 50. She’s not lying either. Your grandma always cited her as one of her “life” sisters. 

“Why don’t we take a look to make sure it’s alright?” She offers, removing the item from the garment bag. She takes the hoodie and turns it over so you can see the back.

In awe, you acknowledge, “it’s perfect.”

Among the many things Joe has gifted Callie, WWE apparel hasn’t really been included in that list. You’ve chalked it up to his hesitation about familiarizing her with his Roman persona. However, you know that girl loves her daddy and will support him in all the things, so you took it upon yourself to pick her up a few items over the holidays. One of those things being a black hoodie with Roman’s picture on the front with him wearing one of his head of the table shirts. Wanting to make it special and personal, you had the idea of customizing it. Thus, asking Mrs. Ella to add to the back, Acknowledge my daddy!, and she did a fabulous job. It looks like that was the original design. 

Pulling out your wallet, you ask, “how much do I owe you?”

“It’s on the house.”

Your eyes snap to her. “Mrs. Ella, no, this was a rush—”

“Don’t argue with your elders, child,” she scolds, and you smile warmly. “Just show me a picture of her wearing it, and we’ll be even.”

Moved by her generosity, you offer your gratitude again. “Thank you, Mrs. Ella. Seriously. Thank you.” 

Hand over yours, she just nods and then ushers you out the door, “well, you better get a move on child.” 

With a small laugh and one more thank you, you leave out with the hoodie, excited to show Callie and even more, to see Joe’s reaction when he sees her wearing it.

“Y/N?”

Fuck. You’d know that voice anywhere, have known it since you were five years old. 

That doesn’t mean you have to heed to it.

You keep walking. 

A stupid decision, because the footsteps behind you become louder and faster as she asks, exasperated, “would you just talk to me?”

You spin around, suddenly pissed at her repeated question. “Why? Why should I talk to you?” 

You’ve dodged and ignored her texts the same way she did yours, so what’s the issue now? Being on the receiving end must be one hell of an unpleasant experience for her. Not that you give two shits. Mariah is the last thing on your plate right now.

Mariah seems taken back, and that just pisses you off more. How can she not see her wrong in this situation? “You’re my best friend, Y/N. We’ve been friends since we were in kindergarten. Does that mean nothing to you?”

“Did it mean something to you when you were fucking Amir?”

Something you can’t identify flashes in her eyes followed by apparent hurt. “Are you serious right now? You’d really believe him over me.” It’s hard to tell how sincere her watery eyes are or if they’re performative. You’ve never known her to be fake, but then again, maybe you’ve never really known her at all. “That’s fucked up.”

Finding some level of compassion and understanding for the woman you called your best friend for almost your entire life, you try to offer her the benefit of the doubt. “Okay, let’s say you’re not fucking him. At the very least, you’ve been telling him my business while ignoring my texts and calls. Like, what the fuck, Mo?” 

She shakes her head. “He came to me, worried about you—”

“He came to you nosy and upset because I cut it off with him, and you fell into his trap.” How she can possibly fall for Amir’s bullshit is beyond you. She knows how he is. Hell, she’s been right beside you, up until recent weeks/months, dealing with his bullshit. So, her excuse is just that—an excuse. “And even if he was, as my best friend, you should know that’s still girl code violation.”

It feels almost silly citing that, but the morals behind it still ring true. You would never talk to Caleb about things going on in her life when you know they’re not on good terms. And you damn sure would never fuck him. 

“Girl code?That’s funny coming from you, because you didn’t seem to to care about girl code when you were fucking another woman’s husband and had a whole ass baby for him.”

Her words stop you dead in your tracks. Any facial expression you may have been showing is dropped and neutral. Even your voice is softer, less accusatory. “Excuse me?” 

For her to say that to you, knowing how sensitive a subject that is truly takes you by surprise. Truly. 

It doesn’t stop there though. “I mean, forreal, Y/N. You’re up in my face about Amir, but aren’t you still fucking Joe? Shit, how many niggas do you need?” It’s hard to believe the words coming out her mouth, so angry and hostile. But, even her volume rising has you stumped. It’s like she wants to draw an audience. “It’s not enough to be one man’s whore, but you still gotta have another on the side?”

Truly baffled, all you can ask is, “where is this coming from?” 

She sucks her teeth, just as irritated, if not more by your question. “It’s always been this shit with you. You do whatever the fuck you want and don’t care who you hurt or betray in the process!”

And now you’re just straight up confused, because what have you ever done to her? Cause that’s what it sounds like she’s implying. Like you’ve done her wrong. Like you’ve been doing her wrong. “What are you even talking about?”

“You got Joe. You got Amir. Shit, when is enough enough for you?” She scoffs, and it’s hard for you to even look at her let alone listen to all the hurtful things she’s spewing. “Like damn, find a new hobby. Focus on raising your kid—”

And that…..that is the moment that you’re no longer confused, or hurt, or saddened to hear your best friend say such awful things. You’re pissed. Cause one thing no one can convince you you’re not, is a good mother. You’ve dedicated your entire life and being to taking care of Callie, making sure she’s straight. That’s always been your priority, and for her to suggest otherwise….those are really fighting words. 

You step toward her, finding all of the will in the world not to shatter her jaw. “You and I have so much history. It is the only reason I’m not whooping your ass right now, but know this, Mariah. This was your freebie. Fuck with me again, speak on my child again, and I’ll bash your fucking head into the nearest wall.” It’s not a threat. It’s a promise. “Stay away from me, bitch.”

You don’t give her time to respond or even yourself the chance to lay her out, you instead rush to your car, locking the door and speeding out of the parking lot. 

Your knuckles are nearly white with how tightly you’re gripping the steering wheel.

It’s been a while since you’ve been this hot. Years maybe. Amir would piss you off, sure, but never to the extent of your emotions in this moment. It truly took all resolve and imagining Callie’s disappointed face at not being able to see her dad  because you got yourself locked up for aggravated assault to keep you from beating Mariah’s ass. She knows better than anyone that you don’t play about your daughter, so for her to include Callie in her mud slinging is not only repugnant but hurtful.

She’s supposed to be Callie’s godmother. 

But beyond that, you’re having a hard time reconciling with the rest of the things she was saying. It didn’t feel like something that’s been building up over the past few months. No, this was different. Much…..deeper.

Regardless, you don’t have time to deal with this shit. You need to put your focus on preparing to bring your little girl to see her dad. 

Mariah can fuck off. 

She’s always been all bark and no bite anyway. 

________

“Mommy.”

Callie doesn’t even have to say anything else for you to know a request is to follow. 

“What's up, sis?”

She climbs on top of where you lay on the sofa, you and Alexis watching some random dating show she swears up and down is the best thing since Love is Blind. So far, you’re entirely unimpressed. Granted, reality shows of any kind have never been your cup of tea in the first place. 

Your YouTube history is mostly crime documentaries and Bloodline videos. 

She climbs on top of you, throwing her arms up and shouting, “dance party!”

Of all her typical requests, that’s one you haven’t heard in a while. 

You’ve always raised Callie with music, even back when you were pregnant, you would take your Beats and place them on your belly. It’s seemingly worked because this child loves music, so much so that you two would have random “dance party’s” where you’d blast music and dance around, no care in the world, just the two of you.

You haven’t had one in a while, but seeing Callie so happy, a stark contrast from how she’s been is more than enough to get you up and on your feet. You look over at Alexis. “Come on, Lex, it’s dance party time.” 

She feigns a gasp, looking at Callie for approval. “Do I get to come to this party?”

Callie giggles and jumps on the sofa. “Of course! Everyone can come to dance party!”

What’s also ironically funny is the fact that you and Alexis used to have dance parties all the time in your dorm, just often with much more explicit Travis Porter, Speaker Knockerz, type music and a lot of ass shaking.

“Well tonight, it’s just the three of us,” you laugh, grabbing your phone and opening your Spotify to figure out what will be your kickoff song. It’s when your eyes land on that one though, you know you’ve found it.

Connecting your phone to your Bluetooth, you confirm the connection and hit play. 

We're a thousand miles from comfort, we have traveled land and sea

But as long as you are with me, there's no place I'd rather be

“My favorite white girl song ever!” Alexis shouts, starting to dance with Callie who’s just as excited about your selection. Together, the three of you dance and sing when the iconic chorus hits. 

If you gave me a chance I would take it

It's a shot in the dark but I'll make it

Know with all of your heart, you can't shake me

When I am with you, there's no place I'd rather be

At some point, Alexis grabs your phone, recording and capturing the laughter and joy you experience dancing and being silly with your very, very best friend. Callie’s laughter could revive any soul, and it’s so genuine. Even more, you know a large chunk of it is her excitement to see her dad in a couple of days.

And that makes it all the more special. 

Eventually needing a break and time to catch your breath, you laugh as the song ends and the next one starts. Lex and Callie immediately go at it for round two, spinning around and dancing to Dance the Night. 

You take a second to check your phone, seeing that you have a Snapchat from Joe. Frowning, you open the message confused as to why he’s using that and not just text. He only has the damn app because you made him get it. He’s not very big on social media outside of occasional Instagram posts. 

Swiping it open, you see why he was messaging you on there.

Because your wonderful best friend sent him the video she recorded of the three of you dancing.

Joe: How do I save this?

Joe: Fuck it. It’s too confusing. Just send it to me.

Laughing, you chew on your bottom lip and type out a reply.

You: You’re such an old man. 😩 

You: But yes, I’ll send it, even if I didn’t know Alexis was recording to send it to you...

You: Callie loves “dance parties” lol 

Joe: I love her laugh. She looks so happy…

You: I know. ❤️ She loves music. Def my kid.

You: Skillet is next on the queue, btw. 🙃

Joe: Don’t know what that is, but if I had to take a guess, it’s some rock shit.

You: You know me so well. 😊

Joe: Of course, baby.

Leaving his thread, you realize that if she sent it to Joe, she probably posted it to your private story as well, which is fine. You only have people on there you know and trust to keep the contents within that space.

But, it’s in checking the views that you see Mariah not only watched but screen recorded your story. It’s strange, normally you wouldn’t think twice about it. She’s always screenshotted and screen recorded stuff you posted, and you did the same with Micah. 

But now…..

Now, it feels wrong to share these moments with her. She’s lost that privilege. 

Moving to your contacts, you ignore her old Snapchat name she never uses anymore and instead just block her primary one from seeing your stories, and that includes close friends. And interestingly enough, when you check your texts, you see one from her muted thread that momentarily causes you to pause.

Mariah: Kinda stupid to ice out the one person who knows everything about you. 

But the pause comes and goes, Mariah always says shit, and that’s where it stops, the saying. She’s always been the mouse of you two, and that shit ain’t changed.

Closing up the app, you switch back to Spotify and focus on what’s before you and not behind you.

You have all the people you need in your life. 

Mariah can fuck off.

[runninriot]

written for @steddie-week day 5

Until You Come Back And Be Mine

prompt: exes to lovers, getting back together | rated: T | wc: 4.4k | cw: brief mention of injuries, hospitalization | tags: Normal Guy Steve Harrington, Rockstar Eddie Munson, Famous Corroded Coffin, love confessions, idiots in love, lovers to exes to strangers to lovers | complete fic on ao3

It was the middle of the night when he got the call.

When Dustin’s trembling voice ripped him out of his sleep-drunken state and brought the world to a halt.

When he, numbly and in a shock-fueled panic, hastily packed a bag and booked the earliest flight to New York without thinking about it.

He can’t even remember getting to the airport, thinks he might’ve taken a taxi to get there. Or maybe he drove there himself? Whatever.

He couldn’t really think clearly, doesn’t even know what’s in his backpack, doesn’t know anything except-

    ‘Eddie’s in hospital.’

The words keep playing in his mind like a broken record, over and over again.

    ‘They won’t tell me what exactly happened but apparently, he’s injured quite badly.’

Dustin told him he’s on his way to meet Gareth, hoping to get some answers and that maybe, if he’s lucky, they’ll let him see Eddie.

    ‘I’m sorry, Steve. I shouldn’t have called you. I just- I needed someone to talk to. I’m sorry for-‘

Steve had to stop him right there, because if Dustin had said out loud what they both knew was coming next, Steve would’ve probably lost it.

Just thinking about it makes Steve angry because Dustin shouldn’t feel the need to fucking apologise for seeking comfort in calling him. He shouldn’t have to feel bad for mentioning Eddie’s name to Steve just because-

Well.

It’s not like Steve hasn’t heard the name Eddie Munson almost every day for the past 6 years. It’s not like life has given him any chance to avoid hearing his name or listening to his voice or seeing his face, no matter how much it hurts each and every time.

Because Eddie is everywhere.

Has been ever since Corroded Coffin signed their record deal and made it big practically over night.

   Small-town boys rise to become brightest stars in Metal heaven

Steve remembers the magazine’s headline like it was yesterday. Remembers how much it hurt to see Eddie’s face for the first time in two months, happily smiling next to Gareth, Jeff, and Zach as they triumphantly held their first record into the camera.

Remembers how his heart broke all over again after-

After Eddie had left him.

Packed his stuff and left to move to New York with his band because they had been offered this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity they couldn’t not take.

And rightfully so, as it turned out. Because the fame they’d been promised came quickly. Soon, even the mainstream stations were playing their songs after Corroded Coffin had found their way into the hearts of diehard pop music fans when they – just to mess with the industry – collaborated with one of America’s most beloved teen idols for their newest single at the time.

So, yeah.

As much as Steve had wanted to close that chapter once and for all after losing the man he’d thought he would spend the rest of his life with, he soon had to accept that Eddie Munson would forever be present - just not in the way Steve had always dreamed he would.

keep reading on ao3

[sokonoi]

how they send nudes — tr edition

manjiro

never ever ever ever sends nudes. 

always sends them when he’s very horny, hasn’t seen you in awhile, or is intoxicated. 

never sends a video, it’s always 2 pictures. 

usually with him holding the base of his pinkish cock

the second photo consists of what you did to him a.k.a cum on his pants 

he’s usually frantic not bothering to even pull pants down fully only unzips the front pulling his cock through the tiny hole

leaves a mean msg afterwards something along the lines of “this is ur fault” 

izana 

the king 

he sends not explicit videos, but basically porn films & does it regularly 

this man always catches the golden hour

making sure you see his glistened sunkissed abs and all

not much of a groaner, he’s a panter. 

calls your name in breathy pants & whispers 

he’s a pretty boy what do expect?

sometimes he cums untouched 

kakucho 

he’s shy about it, but when you get needy he does it. 

the lighting is always low, but the groans whew jehova and all his witnesses it’s too good

his voice is so soothing. 

he makes sure you can hear him clearly always

he’s the sweetest and always makes sure to give you affirmations & aftercare at the end of the video. 

especially if he’s busy at the moment & can’t text back.

“I know you did so good for me.” 

marry that man

shinchiro 

aesthetic photos & their always in black n white. 

close up of his cum covered tip 

or your panties wrapped around the base, rarely sends videos hates his voice. 

even though you happen to think those pretty whimpers are golden. 

always asks you what you thought of it.

he needs your validation ASAP

inupi 

another pretty slut

always does it to tease, the sound is always off 

he’s sick

even uses a fleshlight, shaped like your pussy

of course he’s not that mean :(

inupi is almost always standing in his videos 

cutting it off just before he cums.

wakasa 

this guy is so unserious 

and he almost always does it to surprise you 

wakasa always does an outfit of the day

but, somehow it ends up with his dick out.

he’s get’s his full body in it, so you able to see the curtain of hair 

and the way his brows furrow when he’s getting ready to cum 

kokonoi 

cums on your stuff, when he’s mad at you for making him so hard 

it gets him off strangely.

his face is never in the videos the camera is always angled toward the stuff he’s defaced 

Sometimes he’ll rut his hips into the panties or your satin pillow. 

he hips shake desperately as he cums 

koko cums alot, nice thick ropes of it too

no wonder he loves facials…

mitsuya 

he’s the sweetest, most perfect man to ever live. 

the set up is cute… he’s alone in his bed the angle is perfect 

mitsuya always makes it known in his videos that he’s thinking of you.

he whimpers your name endlessly. 

eyes are screwed shut with only you on his mind 

his cum oozes out like a fountain dripping onto his closed fists 

almost always says “hope you enjoy pretty girl.” 

before sending it your way

taiju 

his videos and pictures are gold, they’d have to snatch it from your dead hands in order to get it. 

the only con is his feet, they’re like there and he doesn’t bother to crop them out

doesn’t gaf either 

on the good side, you get to see those beefy tattooed thighs in all their glory

he doesn’t send ever, but when he do

pls go to a quiet room bc its raunchy 

spit, slapping, edging, and dirty talk are through the wall. 

his groans are deep and loud as ever & can be heard even at low volume

꩜ 🄯⠀posted⠀؛⠀sokonoi ─‌ like or reblog.

[dontexpectmuch]

another request if u don't mind ! going to a kpop concert w jude and forcing him to get a lighstick/merch/learn the fanchants, etc etc 😚🫶🏽

he was gazing at the back of your head for quite some time now, though he couldn’t resist it. he tried looking away a few times, but whenever his eyes wandered around your colorful room, they somehow ended up looking at you once more. sometimes at your head, and some other times at your beautiful butt which he just couldn’t get enough of. the thing he loved the most however was your gorgeous face, the one that a look if concentration on it right now.

music was softly playing in the background, though jude knew that you weren’t this calm internally. ever since he got you concert tickets for your favorite k-pop group, you have become a ball of energy, counting down the days til d-day.

jude was laying on top of your bedsheets, arms crossed behind his back as he sighed out loud for the third time in the past five minutes. yes, he loved you for being so passionate about something, but the thought of you dolling up for some other guys just didn’t sit right with him.

“babe.“ your sweet voice pulled him out of his inner monologue, now facing him as you moved closer to his body. “how does it look?”

jude didn’t know what to focus on exactly, your face? your pretty eyes that had some sparkly things around them? maybe your soft lips, which just screamed at him to come closer and cover them with his own?

so, he just told you what he always does, what he always thinks, “you look stunnin’, baby.”

smiling, you lean down to kiss his forehead before moving back to the mirror to fix some last things around your make up.

“we should leave in ten minutes, yeah? heard the traffic is crazy.”

nodding, jude got out of your hed and moved behind you, hands resting on your hips as he continued to look at your face through the mirror.

“we should stay-“

“no. we talked about this, babe. you even know their songs now, don let that go to waste.” you turn around in his hold, your own hands gliding up and down his torso. you plant a soft kiss against his neck, hearing him sigh made you smirk.

ha, got him.

everything after that went quite smoothly. the car ride was actually really fun, with you blaring song after song from your favorite group, loudly singing and screaming along the lyrics. your excitement even got jude excited, and he caught himself silently mouthing some of the lyrics with you. all because of your smile and general influence on him.

you guys arrived just on time for the last fee free parking spaces near the arena. and since he -obviously- got you VIP tickets, you guys could enter the arena without any issues, even having enough time to buy some merch.

your indecisiveness got jude feeling a bit impatient, he admits. he doesn’t even know why, but seeing you struggling to pick one of the members special item brew jealousy in him in ways he hasn’t felt before.

as if sensing his impatience, you quickly choose everything as fast as you could, paying for your own stuff even jude wanted to oppose. you even got him a light stick, making him smile from one ear to the other.

“babe,” he began, you however interrupted him with a quick kiss in the kips before telling him to move to your seats.

and after that everything just felt like a fever dream. the members of your group came on stage, making you scream out your lungs.

every song got you dancing and jumping on the spot, dragging jude up from his seat to join you.

every sad song made tears string from your eyes, causing jude to wipe them away with an enamored smile painting his lips.

whenever a love song came on, your eyes couldn’t help bit focus on jude, who was just as lovingly looking at you as you were at him. and in that exact moment both of found immense comfort laying between the both of you.

every single thing throughout the entire concert felt so different to you guys, and when it ended it felt like it never happened to begin with.

with adrenaline and giddiness pumping through your veins, you and jude made your way back to your car, but not before taking pictures together in front the arena and a few fans of his.

“i jus’ know that people will be talking about this.” he spike up on the way back home.

this time you were the one driving, not trusting your boyfriends tired eyes to focus on the road entirely.

“about what, bub?”

leaning against the window, judes eyes focused on your side profile, your eyes still had a sparkle in them, your face was flushed and your hair messy. but you looked so fucking beautiful to him in that moment that his hand made its way to your neck, thumb brushing against the side of it.

“don’t know,” he shrugged, “that i was here, i guess.”

“here, means being a good boyfriend that makes his partner happy?” you ask him, already understanding what he was saying.

thinking about your words, jude released a relieved sigh, “yeah, you’re right. did you have a great time, love?”

“it was probably the second best day in my life, babe. thank you so much for being a part of this amazing experience.”

“the second only?”

laughing, you nodded, “the best day of my life was meeting you in that cute yellow jersey, you looked so lost and tired. it made me fall for you immediately.”

“i was a cute yute back then, i know.” he smirks, grabbing your hand to bring it up to his lips. after planting a kiss on your knuckles, he continues to play with your fingers on his lap, “it was a great concert, though.”

“i knew you’d like it!”

———————————————

[rv3rblog]

hey champ you up for writing a gaz x omega male reader when they were teens? not asking for smut (as kids shouldn’t have sex), but just some cute stuff between the two when they were like high schoolers or something, even as still just friends. perhaps they just presented and the reader just asks gaz to sent some stuff for him , idk how your abo things work

sorry for wasting your time and thanks for your attention

omg no u r not wasting my time !! i have so many thoughts abt alpha!gaz u dnt understood. dnt hesitate to make requests !!

alpha!gaz x omega m!reader

warnings: abo rambling and military inaccuracies

word count: 1k

i want to say that you presented first between the two of you. i think that presenting is like another form of puberty, so you’re around 14/15 when it happens.

when first presenting i think you only develop your scent/mating glands and your body develops the same way it does during puberty. another thing is hormones and instincts.

when you first present you build a nest, your first couple of heats aren’t sexual but instead filled with the need to be surrounded by the scents of your pack/family. you build a nest with some article of clothings of your family but it feels wrong, incomplete. it confuses you so bad until your mom chuckles a little and asks if you perhaps, want something of kyle and you do.

you text kyle, still unpresented and ask him to come over with something of his for your nest.

he comes over so fast because he can basically feel how distressed you are. he comes with a couple used shirts and he even offers to scent you (even though he hasn’t presented yet)

kyle presents a couple weeks after you, 2/3 weeks to be exact.

alpha ruts, like an omega’s heat isnt sexual at first but instinctual. he’s more possessive with his things (and you) as well as always butting heads with other alpha’s who want to court you but he drives them away.

“he’s my omega, not yours. fuck off.”

you of course, don’t notice. a little too overwhelmed with being able to smell everyones scent because for the first three months of presenting y’all aren’t allowed to wear scent blockers (patches).

because the ruts and heats aren’t sexual, teens are required to still go to school because they aren’t physically hindered. so, imagine a bunch of teens.. basically on steroids bc of their hormones.

kyle, who is extremely possessive over you, scents you constantly, always nuzzling against your scent gland and you do the same to him.

you both have a crush on each other it drives everyone around you guys insane, im so serious rn.

like i said in the first alpha!gaz post, you guys are toeing the line between just friends and courting.

he’s constantly giving you gifts, scenting you, around you like a guard dog up until the point he leaves for basic training.

always calling you his pretty boy too.

kyle nuzzles against your scent gland as soon as he sees you. his lips against your neck as he continues to scent you. he whispers against your forehead, calling you his, his pretty boy, his sweet omega.

and you’re as equally possessive. one day you overhear another omega talking about wanting to give kyle a gift to see if he’d be open to courting and you snarl at them. it catches both of you off guard and you get flustered and walk away.

kyle can sense your mood dropped, your scent not as sweet but more sour. he nuzzles against your head, whispering and asking what’s wrong and you confess that a classmate wants to court him and that it upset you.

(which sounded silly to you as soon as you said it)

kyle smiled softly, now knowing that you were just as possessive over him the same way he was over you. he scents you and whispers against your head.

“don’t worry darlin’ no one can take me from you. ‘m yours and only yours.”

never really hits you that he means it.

also, he never calls you by your name. even when yall where just kids it was always some variation of a petname.

sometimes, the two of you stay on the phone at night.

you’re whispering as you hold the phone against your ear, curled up in your nest. somehow, kyle can tell something is bothering you even through the phone.

“what’s the matter pretty boy?”

you huff out a breath and nuzzle deeper into your covers.

“come on pretty, i won’t judge you.”

you mumble it against your blanket and he tilts his head and asks you to repeat yourself.

“…my nest doesn’t smell like you.”

and like, realistically it should smell like him. especially since you always smell like him but for some reason it doesn’t and it upsets you.

he chuckles a little and smiles sweetly, “i can give you another shirt pretty boy, would that work?”

and yeah, he’s like really cocky about it. enjoys seeing that you smell like him even though he hasn’t personally scented you yet.

this man is always calling you his. i know i said it before but his personal favorite things to call you?

“pretty boy” “sweet omega” “pretty omega” “darling” and the rare (very rare one he reserves for your heats) “baby boy” (or when he extremely possessive)

now, moving on to when he enlists? bro you are so fucking devestated. your omega screaming at you that your alpha is leaving you :( your scent sour whenever kyle brings it up :(

and it upsets him so bad to see you upset

“what’s wrong daring? talk to me.”

but the things is, you don’t. you’re a little too stubborn to admit that you’re gonna miss him and your little fantasy. the thing is he already knows.

“i’m gonna be fine. i promise.”

he scents you deply before he leaves the first time. nuzzles against your scent glands, gives you his bedsheets and shirts he wore recently.

you add the bedsheets to your nest. when he leaves you don’t leave your nest for a couple days.

he calls you when he can.

“i miss my pretty boy.” he whispers against the phone. “i miss you a lot, my baby boy.”

(he’s pouting as he talks to you)

when he comes back from basic training and spends a while with his family he bee lines to you. everyone around thinks you two are courting and he doesn’t correct them.

“my pretty boy, missed you a lot.” as he scents you.

he can smell your scent sweeten as he scents you and it drives him insane. playfully nips at your neck like when yall were kids.

overall, before officially courting you two drove everyone insane bc yall r so in love w one another and were already basically courting. like everyone at ur school knew better than to try to court either of you bc yall wld snarl at them or growl !! love sick teens who just presented <3

[thezombieprostitute]

Dream Come True - Part 5

Summary: The “Garbage Men” are the guys in the mob who get the dirt on others and clean up after the higher ups. They have many different ways of gathering intel by running legitimate businesses. One such business is Jefferson/Jensen’s cyber cafe where you regularly go to work. You’ve actually become good friends with Jefferson’s daughter and Jensen’s niece. You even volunteered as their after-school tutor. One day, there’s a robbery attempt where you get hurt protecting the girls. This is how you are introduced to Curtis Everett, the guy in charge of the “Garbage Men”.

A/N: Reader is plus sized, femme. No other descriptors used.

Warnings: Bullying, Fat shaming, Insecure reader, Violence mentioned and referenced but not written. Please let me know if I missed any!

Part 4 -- Part 6

Series Masterlist

Ransom was shutting down his computer for the day, dismissing his new assistant. It was taking some time but they were working through what they each needed to have a good working relationship. She was a lot more expensive and whiny than Y/N but he had to make peace with that. He checked the mirror, seeing the last traces of the black eye Curtis had given him. It’d been over a week and he’d be happy to see it finally gone. 

He turned when his door opened, expecting his assistant, but stopped in alarm when he saw the familiar, mustachioed face of Lloyd Hansen. 

“Ransom,” Lloyd smiled, holding his arms out. “It’s so good to see you again.”

“Lloyd,” Ransom hesitated. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“What? Can’t I just visit?”

“Well, given your current status of “exiled” I think you can understand my confusion.”

Lloyd’s grin faded a little, “oooh, who finally got the balls to punch you, Ran? I’m surprised it hasn’t happened before.”

“Well,” Ransom stalled, “it’s only fair. I was harassing one of his employees.”

“Fair? Ran how hard were you hit? That doesn’t sound like you.”

“I’ve grown, Lloyd. Now, I’ll ask again, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”

Lloyd’s smile widened, “always the kiss ass. No wonder the Bosses put you up in the elite tiers. Schmoozing the old ladies to get them to vote, donate, whatever. That was never my forte.”

Ransom huffed, “certainly not for a lack of willingness to talk. Can I get you a drink?”

“You got the good whiskey,” Lloyd asked before snorting a laugh. “Who am I kidding? Of course you’ve got the good stuff! Make it a double.”

Ransom turned to get the drinks and positioned himself so he could keep an eye on him while also seeming to not pay attention. He poured the drinks and handed Lloyd one before sitting down, gesturing for Lloyd to do the same. Lloyd took a long sip and nodded appreciatively. 

“So,” Lloyd remarked, “of course I am here on unfinished business.” Ransom nodded in understanding. “I was kicked out of my territory because the higher ups didn’t like how I handled things. You’d think guys with their background wouldn’t mind a little more blood on their hands. I got results, they kicked me out. I’ve finally got things sorted out and built up to take over everything. They won’t know what hit ‘em.”

Ransom's eyebrows shot up, “everything? You don’t want to be in charge of just the Gar- intel gathering anymore? The empire’s grown since you were last here. Are you sure you can handle it all?”

“That’s where you come in, pretty boy,” Lloyd retorts before taking another sip. “We both know public relations ain’t my thing. You be the face of everything, keep your nice lifestyle, maybe even make it cushier, and I’ll handle all the dirty work. You know, the fun side of things.”

“Such a generous offer. How long do I have to think about it?”

“By the time I’ve finished my drink.”

Ransom nods, “so I’d still be doing all the schmoozing and kiss-ass work?”

“Yes,” Lloyd acknowledged, taking another long sip. “But you’d have a much bigger allowance and a lot more support in the harassment of employees.”

“It’s a very tempting offer,” Ransom conceded. “May I ask the repercussions if I decline?”

“Well, I can’t exactly have you telling the others that I’m in town, let alone that I have plans.” He raises an eyebrow while opening his jacket, showing Ransom the gun he has strapped to his chest. 

Ransom nods and contemplates, watching Lloyd’s drink slowly disappear. “It is a good deal, but what assurances do I have that your plan will work? I’m already on thin ice with the Bosses. If they find out I helped you in any way, even by not mentioning your visit, it’ll be a death sentence for me, too.”

“Ransom, I’m hurt,” Lloyd mocked. “You think I would even tell you this much if I wasn’t certain of my victory?”

“In my defense, you’ve been found out before.”

Lloyd sighed, “I suppose you’re right. Fine.” Lloyd drinks the last of his whiskey and sets the glass down before standing up, “either you agree to help me and get a much more self-indulgent lifestyle, or you turn me down and end up dead. You have no other guarantees in life.”

“How do you know I won’t just tell them you’re here?”

“Because you know, damn well, I’ll do so much more than just give you a black eye,” Lloyd glowered. “I’ve got my own comm guys monitoring all of your devices as well as a few well placed bugs. You won’t be able to do anything to warn them without my knowing. And neither of us would really enjoy your screams as I make an example out of you.”

Ransom glared up at Lloyd, “well. I guess I don’t have much of a choice then. I’ll be expecting my first paycheck soon. I’ve got an assistant to win over.”

“That cute one who just left?”

“No, she’s the temporary replacement,” Ransom huffed. “My last assistant was the fat one?” Ransom searched Lloyd’s face for any sign he knew of the woman he was talking about but found none.

“Huh, never would’ve taken you to be interested in the bigger ladies,” Lloyd smiled. “That’s usually my demographic.”

“I have a new appreciation for them,” Ransom professed. “I blame you for getting the idea in my head.”

Lloyd laughed, “now that’s something I’ll happily take the blame for.”

“Hey, Jake,” you ask as you hesitantly approach Jensen. 

He looks up from his work, “Hey Teach! What are you doing here? I thought it was your day off?”

“I thought so too,” you admit. “This…this is going to sound weird, but I think Ransom might be in trouble.” Jake’s brows furrowed in confusion and you continue, “I’ve been getting a bunch of gifts from him. They’ve been getting delivered seemingly nonstop since yesterday. I was gonna just throw them out, let him waste his money, but then I…I may have picked up a pattern?”

“How do you mean?”

“Well,” you hesitate, “this is going to sound paranoid, but I noticed that all of the gifts he got me were the same gifts some of his characters used when they had to silently indicate they needed help. He sent me begonias. Begonias mean “Beware” in flower language so whenever Mrs. Nylund wanted to warn her secret lover her husband was home, she’d spend hours working on the begonias. He also sent me orange lilies. When Miss Petrillo sent her mother yellow lilies, it meant she was fine but orange lilies meant she was in danger.”

Jake was listening patiently, nodding, “I dunno, it could just be those flowers were on his mind.”

“I thought that, too,” you admitted. “But then the jewelry started coming in. A necklace and earring set that are an exact match for the ones Lady Devereaux would fidget with as a signal to her security to remove the person she was talking to. An amulet with a challenge coin, just like Mr. Bryson sent to his brother as a silent signal for help. The list goes on.”

“That is pretty strange,” Jake admitted. “Since he was put on notice by the higher ups we have had a couple bugs added to his place.” He turns to his computer and starts typing, “let me check if they’ve picked up any unusual ac– No. No, you don’t.” Jake’s demeanor suddenly gets serious as he gives the computer his full focus, typing faster than you can register. “Oh, you’re a feisty one. You’re not getting into my systems you bastard. Aww, you really think that’ll work? Well watch me counter with this magic!”

He goes on for several minutes before finally sitting back and letting out a big breath. He looks at you, “I think you’re right. I think Ransom is in trouble.”

Part 4 -- Part 6

Tagging @alicedopey because I promised I would. 

@dontbescaredtosingalong

@icefrozendeadlyqueen

@texmexdarling

@veltana

@winter-soldier-101

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged.

[daengtokki]

𝓌𝒾𝓈𝒽 𝐼 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹

© ᴏʟʙᴀᴘᴀɪɴᴛɪɴɢꜱ

────────────────────✦

Kim Seungmin/noona reader

wc: 5.9k

rating: angst/mature/18+ ಇ (idiots trying to get to lovers/mutual pining)

contains: drinking/drunkiness, implied mental illness, medication mention, weight mention

comments: Part two of this noona fic request. Not sure how much interest there is in this (there's more, because I love writing it and I needed some angst), but let me know if you guys like it!

songs to listen to while reading: orion sun - intro // chloe george - when does it get good

──────────────────♡──✦

Seungmin feels around in the dark, and he knows at any moment, he’s going to trip. The layout of your apartment is still foreign to him, but he likes it here, and he wants to get used to being here. It’s a welcome change from the dorm—there it's usually a mess. It smells, it tends to get loud at the worst moments, and the worst part of all is that you’re not there. Ever.

He’s a bit embarrassed of the place, even though his room is usually clean and ready for company. It’s better here, though. It’s always quiet, and warm, and it smells like vanilla and coffee, even now, in the middle of the night.

As much as he wanted to keep things between the two of you, for now, it did not work. Seungmin came home very late the night after he confessed (and you confessed), so it was easy for everyone to figure out. Still, though, he hasn’t talked much about it in the three days since. And now, somehow, he’s ended up at your apartment, and it’s well past midnight.

You fell asleep on the couch watching a movie, tucked against his side, and he shook you awake eventually.

“Time to get to bed, yeah?” He said, and he gave you a few more minutes to collect yourself before helping you up. Then he guided you into the bedroom, but he just stood there at the door for a moment, watching, waiting until you turned to him and smiled.

“Goodnight”

“You’re leaving?” You check the time on your phone. It's late.

“Yeah, I should go,” his heartbeat picks up a little as he casually looks around your room. This is his first time seeing it., and Seungmin thinks to himself how very you it is—the colors, the mix of adult and not-so-adult, pages from magazines and photobooks pinned to a corkboard next to very important looking things. He sees his face pinned there as well; a closeup of him, ripped neatly from the Noeasy photobook. No, two photos of him...three.

“Okay. You don’t have to, but…” you think, look around, look back at him, “text me when you get home, okay?”

“I will”

He clicks the hall light off as he makes his way toward the door, and with the glow of the tv gone, it’s suddenly very, very dark. The light of his phone helps, but he hits his foot on the coffee table, of course, and then he finally grabs his bag. Luckily it takes him a few extra minutes to fight into his shoes, because a text comes through just as he goes for the door.

don’t leave yet

Seungmin looks toward your bedroom door and waits. One, two, three seconds. It swings open, and you leave it there so the light pours out and illuminates him.

“Did I forget something?”

You stop in front of him and nod, “I did,” and grab the front of his shirt to pull him down. You kiss, and he kisses right back. And then you let go. “Can I ask what’s in your backpack?”

“Huh? My…oh my bag. Just my usual stuff, uhm, it’s silly. Sometimes I feel like I’ll be pulled away when I have no time to pack, so I always carry something with me.”

“So that's your overnight bag?”

“I guess. I don’t want you to get the wrong idea...if it’s the wrong idea. I wasn’t expecting something to happen, I promise.”

“Seungmin, it’s okay. I just came out to kiss you goodnight, not question your motives.” You pull him to you again and kiss. “And you’re welcome to spend the night—on the couch, or in my bed. Preferably in my bed. But wherever you’re comfortable.”

His laugh is so nervous, and he hates it, “maybe next time?”

“Of course. I’m leaving for a while tomorrow, but I’ll let you know when I get home.”

“Will you be gone long?”

“No, a week at the most”

“A week. Okay, that’s not bad. If I’m home when you get back., we can do something.”

“Right, you might not be here”

You stare at each other silently, maybe hoping to read each other’s mind. You might not see him for a while and that was hard enough when you were just friends, pining endlessly. Now you’ve touched him and kissed him, and you need more time to do those things.

“I might be, though”

“Goodnight, Minnie”

This time he kisses you himself.

─ ⋅⋅ ─

“I’m not surprised…but at the same time I’m a little surprised,” Felix scratches his head. He’s watching Seungmin cross the kitchen to fill his glass with water.

He doesn’t notice everyone staring at him until he turns toward the coffee maker. “What?”

“Surprised why?” Minho cups his chin in his hand and smiles at both of them.

“How was your date last night, kid?”

"Date?" Minho jumps and grins at Seungmin.

“We just watched a movie, it was good. She’s leaving today so I won’t see her for a while.”

“Oh no, that’s no good. So—“

“What are you surprised about?!” Minho slap his palm on the table, “Yongbok!”

“I’m getting there!”

“You’ve never been to her place before, right? What brought that on…a movie at her apartment?”

Seungmin is making his coffee, patiently, and looking at his roommate as he takes his time getting to the point. But Felix waits as he makes his way to the table with them to press on.

“You never really told us what happened the other night. You two just disappeared.”

“Oh, we went to her place, so we could be alone…”

The three of them OH in unison, because Jeongin turns the corner just in time. Minho is still confused, and nobody seems to want to elaborate for him. All four of them here at the same doesn’t happen often, so Seungmin is feeling a little crowded

“…to talk.”

“Ooh,” Jeongin smiles, “and? Did you talk last night, too?”

“Not much, no”

Their eyes grow as they wait for more, but now Seungmin is having too much fun stringing them a long.

“Please continue”

“There’s nothing else,” he shrugs, “we drank a little, watched a movie, we both dozed off for a while, I think…no,” Seungmin throws a hand up when Felix' mouth turns up into a smirk. “It was a long movie, nothing else happened.”

“Did you kiss?” Jeongin leans closer and whispers, “you kissed, yeah?”

Seungmin can’t help but smile when he asks. He can feel his face grow warm just thinking about it. Last night, and then your first kiss. That one got much heavier than he expected, and he loved every second—the touching, your tongue, your fingers running through his hair. He doesn’t want to wait a week for more, but he’s not going to chase after you now. He has to be patient, again.

“You should have spent the night"

─ ⋅⋅ ─

You sit across from each other in the cafeteria, just like you’ve done a dozen times before. It’s not busy, not even at lunchtime, but looking up at him for too long is making your heart race. It’s not that you’re afraid someone will walk by and read your mind (but if they did, they might be disgusted), it just feels different being with him in public now.

It feels like you’re both doing something a little bit wrong.

Seungmin is a young idol, and he’s sweet and kind and innocent, as far as everyone knows. You’ve already seen his unfiltered self, and it’s better than any act he’s had to put on. But he is still sweet and kind and…you assume a little innocent. You’ve never talked about your sex lives, ever.

You look up at him and lock eyes. He smiles, and you can’t help but start undressing him. Yes, you’ve touched him, finally. His thigh—he let you run your hand from his knee and up you went until you knew it was time to stop—his neck, his shoulder, his face…but there’s still so much of him to touch and see. The part of your mind that you can't keep quiet is afraid there won't be many more oppurtunities.

You have to close your eyes and relax.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m okay, just thinking. Over-thinking.”

He smiles again, and you start to wonder if he’s doing it because he’s nervous.

“About us?”

Us? That’s a much bigger word than it was a few days ago. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“Good things?”

Good things, yes. As long as you stay focused, there's nothing to think about when it comes to him except for good things. “Yeah, of course.”

“How is your lunch? Spicy enough?”

“Is my face red?”

“A little, yes”

“No spice today, so it’s you doing that.”

─ ⋅⋅ ─

What if he stays too late tonight, again? He doesn’t want to run off at the first mention of spending the night, because he wants to stay here with you. There was no expectation of it when you asked last time, he assumes, because he can sleep wherever he wants; he can do whatever he wants. And you wouldn’t pressure him anyway. He knows you better than that.

He knows nothing about your sex life, though. And almost nothing about your dating life.

Seungmin doesn’t really know much about either of those things when it comes to himself, actually. There was never much time to date, or it was low on the list. And having sex without at least dating someone doesn’t sit well with him.

But he has been on dates, and he has kissed, and touched, and he’s been touched right back. But that’s all. No sex—that blowjob didn’t count—it was awkward, and it wasn’t very good. And as hard as he tries, he can't forget his first time trying to find a clit.

“Do you want a drink?” You shake his arm until he finally seems to hear you, “drink…beer, coke, coffee?”

“Soju?”

“I have strawberry and peach”

“Strawberry somaek?”

You disappear into the fridge and dig around, and Seungmin watches carefully when you bend forward. He’s always admired your body, though it never had much to do with him liking you the way he did. But now, he feels like it’s okay to appreciate it more. You’re shorter than him, and curvier (which doesn’t take much, seeing as how Seungmin is basically a straight line). Your ass and thighs are an eyeful for him, though.

Everything looks soft. Everything is soft, because he did sneak his hand there that first night. He squeezed his fingers right above your knee, then moved up ever so slightly to get some thigh. He didn’t dare go any further, though.

The touching you did the second time was much more innocent—holding hands, fingers laced together, your head against his shoulder as you fell asleep. He looked you over carefully, but kept his hands to himself, only daring to run a thumb over your wrist as you dozed off.

“Would you like to pour, or do you trust me?”

Seungmin snaps out of it. He’s pretty sure you caught him staring. “I trust you.”

“Can you grab the glasses for me?”

He does, and he follows you back to the living room and makes himself comfortable at the coffee table. And now that he’s started, he can’t take his eyes off of you as you move.

“That’s…oh okay we have different pours,” Seungmin eyes the glass, but you pull it toward yourself. “That’s much more soju than I usually do.”

You pour his now, but only fill the glass a third of the way before topping it off with the beer.

“I thought maybe you were trying to soften me up.” His breath catches in his chest when he says it, because it sounded much more stupid than it did in his head.

“No, trying to soften myself up, actually.”

“Why? You can’t get drunk without me,” the frown he gives you is over the top and very cute. “I don’t want you to fall asleep too early.”

“I’ll be careful”

─ ⋅⋅ ─

Seungmin feels good after two glasses. It’s not much, but he hasn’t eaten recently, and he’s pretty certain his second drink was identical to yours.

You’re halfway through your third.

“These are too easy to drink.” You sit at the table with a dish of mandu and dakgangjeong. “And I’m guessing you’re hungry.”

“I usually am.” He leans forward and smells the chicken, “did you make all this.

You shake your head, “I’m not the best at cooking. I wish I had more time to practice.”

“That’s okay. Thank you for feeding me, and getting me tipsy.” He grabs a piece of chicken and pops it in his mouth. And then a dumpling. And then finishes off his third somaek.

“You can’t be tipsy yet”

“I will be if I have another”

Seungmin does have another. And the for his next drink, he switches to straight beer—but he’s drunk. He picks up his chopsticks and grabs for a dumpling, but it slips off and bounces onto the table.

Both of you just stare at for a long moment. And then Seungmin giggles as he tries again. This time it makes it to his mouth.

“Where you going?”

He’s slowly getting to his feet, and he stands for a minutes to get his head straight.

“Bathroom”

“Good idea”

“Are you joining me?”

You stop halfway onto your feet and look up at him, his hand is outstretched like he’s welcoming the company, “ah…you first.”

It’s very obvious he had a bit too much. And you did, too, but you’re working hard to keep yourself together. When you walk back out from the bathroom, Seungmin is standing up, staring at the tv, and the rest of the chicken is making its way into his mouth. He looks comfortable and satisfied—drunk, yes…but happy.

It makes you warm up even more, and you can’t remember the last time you felt so good.

“Hey”

“Hi…hello, do you feel better? Do you want the last few pieces?” He holds some out to you, but it disappears into his mouth as soon as you shake your head. “We should sober up.”

Yes, you should. You sit on the couch and curl yourself up into a ball, but when he sits next to you, your limbs develop a mind of their own. Before you can stop yourself, you slide your arms around his waist and hold yourself tight against him. Your leg drapes over his lap, and you’re practically straddling his thighs. He takes it in stride, though. Seungmin holds you right back and takes the opportunity to slide a hand across your hip, and when he squeezes, you jump.

“Sorry”

“Mm mm, no…it’s good. Feels good.”

“It does?”

“Yeah, you’re so warm”

“I think that’s the alcohol”

“Maybe…maybe, but you always—“ you stop and start to giggle, and you shove your face into his shirt to try to stifle yourself.

“Always what?”

You shake your head against him, push harder against his chest, take in his scent…feel yourself becoming even more drunk. “Nothing.”

His hand slides back up and settles on your hip, “always something good, hopefully.”

“Sorry, my head is swimming.”

“Mine too”

“I was hoping the alcohol would help, but you’re making me so nervous.”

“You’re nervous? I’m making you nervous?”

“Yeah, maybe telling you will make it go away."

“I’m also nervous. I wasn’t the last time I was here…so maybe the drinks are working against us.”

You force yourself to look up at him, and he looks down at you with big, heavy eyes. Your gaze drops and takes in every bit of him—his cheeks, his nose, his lips…his lips. He wets them and a smile pulls at his mouth, and you desperately want him to lean down closer to you. Every part of you is screaming for him, but you’re still frozen.

He’s frozen, too. The booze just made both of you stupid.

“Seungmin?” You’ve never, not even as a teenager, felt so stupidly in love with someone.

“Yeah?”

The longer you watch him, the closer he seems to get, and you see every little detail, every little spot, every little perfect blemish and pore on his skin.

“Kiss me before I explode”

His lips press into yours and his fingers squeeze so hard again. You want him to hold you tighter still, and you need to be closer. He does. Seungmin moves you until you’re on his lap, and he devours you. He’s all tongue, and it’s wet and messy, not like his previous kisses, but it’s so good tasting him, and tasting the entire night on him.

Then he stops suddenly to catch his breath, but he stays there and bites down lightly on your bottom lip. Your eyes open, and he’s right there, staring. He pulls back, looks at the space between your thighs, and there’s not much there. If you let yourself relax a little more, you’d feel his dick growing in his sweatpants.

But you can see it. You’re no longer frozen, so you shake the thought of what’s between his legs out of your head, for now. Both of you are way too fucked up for the first time. What you do need to do is kiss him again, so you take over, squeeze his shoulders and hold him steady while you lick across his parted lips. Seungmin opens up for you and he moans into the kiss—moans right down your throat.

You shake your head, “we should stop until we’re, um…I don’t wanna do this drunk.”

“I don’t either,” he keeps kissing, but slows down and softens his touch. His hands move to your waist, and then your back, where they stay.

“But don’t leave tonight”

“I won’t”

─ ⋅⋅ ─

Seungmin watches you from his side of your bed. He did fall asleep for a while, but he woke from a dream and forgot for a few moments where he was. His racing heart beat against the mattress as he looked toward you, facing away from him, shirt pulled halfway up your back. You kicked the covers off in your sleep—probably too warm from sobering up, but so deeply asleep. Still, he reaches out and runs two fingers down the skin that’s peeking out.

You move ever so slightly, and mumble something. He looks at the time: just after 4am. You’ve been asleep for about three hours, because both of you were out as soon as you hit the bed.

But Seungmin feels better. Less drunk, at least. His head aches a little, but not enough to bother him. He reaches out again, but this time he pulls at your shirt until you’re covered.

“Minnie”

“I’m up, you feel okay?”

You mumble again, and groan, but you don’t answer.

“Minnie…hmmm, don’t leave”

“Hey,” he crawls closer and runs a hand down your arm, “hey, oh you’re still asleep.”

You wake up when you feel his lips on your shoulder. “Min?”

“Are you up or talking in your sleep?”

“I’m up…oh no, what did I say?” You turn onto your back and grab his hand. “I don’t do that all the time.”

“Just my name”

“Oh”

“And you told me not to leave,” he squeezes your hand and searches for the soberness in your eyes, “I’m still here.”

“Sorry, I don’t usually speak so clearly”

The sleep-talking doesn’t phase him. In fact, the quietness of the room is a welcome change to his typical nights. The whole night, drunk as you both were, was quiet and calm. “Were you thinking about me in your sleep?”

“I must have been,” you move his hair away from his eyes, and now you’re searching for any leftover drunkenness. He seems wide awake and sober.

“It’s 4 in the morning, if you’re still tired…we can go back to sleep.” That’s not what he wants, but he also wants what you want. Seungmin figured you’d get into bed and both of you would sleep soundly until morning. But he woke up.

“No, I feel good. And you look good.”

The truth is, you are very tired. If you close your eyes right now, you have no doubt that you would fall back to sleep almost immediately. Instead you rip off the rest of the blanket and sit up.

“Where are you going?”

He watches you stand slowly, carefully, just in case. But your legs work just fine. Maybe Seungmin can change that. The thought sends a little wave a pleasure through you, and you smile when you turn to look at him, “bathroom.”

That is what you do, but you dig through the drawer under the sink as well. You didnt prepare properly, because you didn’t double check to see if you still had condoms, and if they were still good.

“Oh good,” you grab the half used pack and look closely at the date stamped on the bottom, "lucky.” But you make the mistake of looking at yourself in the mirror, and your reflection feels like it's a mile away. Your eyes blur, and the room spins for a moment.

A perfectly timed knock on the door makes you jump, and the box slips from your hand.

“Are you okay? I gotta go, too.”

“Yeah, Minnie, I’m coming,” you pick them up and palm them as you head for the door, “sorry, go ahead.”

-

Seungmin whistles as he returns and quietly shuts the door, “so are you…out?” He holds up the empty box and shakes it. “You left the drawer open.”

“Oh, no no,” you grab the condoms from your bedside table and show them to him, “we have two.”

He pulls one from your fingers and examines it for a moment, “I don’t think these will fit.”

─ ⋅⋅ ─

It’s stupid, and it’s reckless, and you know it. But it’s not going to stop you. From the moment he said the condoms—the only condoms either of you had, wouldn’t work, you tossed it back onto the table, looked up at him, “okay,” and grabbed the waistband of his sweatpants until he was right in your face.

“Okay” He sets his down, too. “Are you…” he groans when you find a good spot on his stomach, and he laughs when you graze your lips across his skin.

Every time you get back to his belly button, you tug a little more. His sweatpants start to tent, and you’re starting to feel exactly how much he wouldn’t fit into those condoms. One more tug, and you can see him—the stiff base of his cock, held still by the grip of your fingers.

He’s so hot against the fabric, and a wet spot of pre-cum starts to come through as you stroke him.

“I’m not surprised you like to tease,” he smiles down at you, but he’s blushing…everywhere. His cheeks, his ears, his neck. When he pulls his shirt over his head, he’s flushed all the way down to where your lips are.

Seungmin is just as lean under all those clothes as you imagined, and his shoulders…

“Turn around”

“Huh…turn?”

You stand and grab his hips, “yeah, turn around for me.”

He listens and peeks back at you the best he can—until your hands move from his hips, slowly upward, touching every bit of skin you can—across his shoulder blades, back down his spine.

The sigh he lets out is so content and relaxed, it actually puts you more at ease. He laughs sweetly when your lips touch him. “I like your teasing.”

Seungmin turns back to face you, and your fingers slide across him as he moves.

“Just admiring you." Yes, you are admiring him. Touching him, finally, is doing more for you than anything else possibly could. But every step forward now is taking all of your energy.

“Admiring? Me?” He cups your cheek and lifts until you’re looking at him, then pulls you close.

It’s sweet and it’s perfect, and you melt into him, but now you’re so distracted by his dick pressing against you. You push your hips in until he groans, slide your hands under his waistband.

Seungmin grabs back, and squeezes your ass. “Let me see you.” He pulls your shirt up and over your head before you can react, but you fold your arms over yourself before pressing back into him.

“Ah…I’m sorry, too fast?” His hands keep you against him. He holds so tight, you couldn’t escape even if you wanted to. “I should have let you do that.”

“No, I just—“

“I didn’t think you’d be shy”

A shiver runs through you when his hands move down your back, then back up.

“How about we…” he scoots closer to the lamp, keeping hold of you, and clicks it off. “Is that better?”

“Maybe,” you laugh, but it’s hesitant, a little edgy. “You’re too perfect, Minnie and…ah, I don’t know what's going on, I’m nothing special.”

“No, you're very special. What’s the matter?”

You relax a a little in his arms.

“I’m not perfect, not even close. You haven’t seen me after rolling out of bed at noon, or grumpy when my mouth hurts after getting these things tightened.”

You whine his name. You’re ruining the moment. Him comforting your sudden stupid thoughts and doubts—he’s probably already getting soft. “I’m sorry, I’m making a mess of everything. I'm not sure what happened.”

“Mm, no…you haven’t made a mess of anything.” Seungmin grabs your shirt from the edge of the bed and slips it back on you, “it's okay, we can get back under the covers if you’d like.”

─ ⋅⋅ ─

“Give me your hand”

Seungmin holds it up to you, then sets it in yours.

Back under the covers is where you end up, and you really do feel like a tease now. Poor Seungmin—his dick doesn’t know what’s going to happen next, but right now, you know he’s definitely not hard. You've ruined that.

“You think I’m perfect…can I think you’re perfect?” he lets go of your hand and runs his up your arm.

“No, I’m a mess. My skin, my hair is a mess. I’m getting chubby because I never watch what I eat. I don’t know why you’re here.”

“Because I want to be here. Because you brought me here and made me feel like I was yours."

“I was so high off of your words before. I thought I was dreaming when we were talking after dance practice.”

Seungmin moves closer, and now you’re sharing a pillow, and you breathe in every sigh he breathes out. His hand is moving so slowly over you, and he’s being so patient as it finds the curve of your hip and slides under the bottom of your shirt. “You’re not a mess.” He’s touching you and kneading his fingers into your side. Into your back. He works his way up and drags his fingertips up to your throat. “And they weren’t just words.”

How could you possibly deny him, looking at you like this? You shouldn’t, but your brain is telling you it will never work; it’s a waste of time. He’s going to really see you, and change his mind—he’ll find out how bad you are at this, and how emotional and unbearable you get when you do. It’s too much for him.

Still, his touch is as soft as his eyes, and he moves even closer until his leg can slide over yours.

“No, I don’t deserve you”

He isn’t sure how to reply to that, so he just stares. Maybe he’s waiting for you to crack a smile, or laugh it off, but you don’t. “Why would you say that?”

“You can do so much better than me, I promise.” You get as far as sitting yourself up, and your head pounds against your eyes. The alcohol is catching up to you and turning into a hangover already. “I shouldn’t have let it get this far, I’ve been stupid.”

“What are you saying?” Seungmin grabs your arm as you shift to get out of bed. His head is pounding now, too, because he's trying to figure out what went wrong and where he fucked up. “I can go if that’s really what you want, but give me a minute.”

You struggle with a response. You don’t want him to leave, but he should. And if he does, it might be the end of something that didn’t even begin. “A minute…for what?”

“To say something”

“Right, I’m sorry”

“I meant everything I said before, even if I didn’t say much. But you knew what I was thinking.” He lets go of your arm, because you seem to have relaxed. You’ve settled back in your spot, under the covers, back against the pillows. “I want you, and you want me…I think. And I need you around, I know that much. If I leave, will we go back to how we were before?”

There’s a long silence. You’re not sure if he wants an answer to that, but you don’t want to think too hard about it. Maybe, eventually, the memory of this can pass and you can be friends again.

“I don't want to go back to that. Not after this,” he answers himself. “So…”

Seungmin throws the covers off of himself, puts his feet on the cold floor, and then waits a few seconds before standing. It takes a moment to find his shirt, but he does and throws it on, and the entire time you watch him so intensely. But you stay quiet.

He knows you’re watching, and he takes his time, hoping you’ll stop him as he goes for the door. But you don’t.

And he anxiously waits for his phone to buzz after he grabs it from the coffee table. The empty bottles and glasses—the mess from the food scattered everywhere—Seungmin stares at it, waiting for a text that won’t come, and he decides he won’t leave yet. Instead he starts to clean.

─ ⋅⋅ ─

You’re stuck in your spot on the bed, phone now in hand, and you stare at the messages you’ve shared over the last week—to prove yourself wrong, maybe. Or just to make yourself feel worse. You couldn’t possibly feel any worse right now, though. Seungmin is still here; his scent lingers, and the feeling of his touch. But he left. You kicked him out, and deep down, you know you don’t want to subject him to whatever the future might hold. This isn’t possible, and thinking it could be was both of you just being struck dumb with lust. And maybe love.

You’ll be back tomorrow morning, right? I get my days mixed up sometimes, especially when I’m home for a while. Do you get like that? Maybe my memory is going already, haha I’ll be around if you’re free, so I hope you are. I can’t wait to see you again.

Seungmin is a good texter. He’s thoughtful and sincere, and he seems to choose his words carefully, as if he’s speaking to you face to face. That, or he just closes his eyes and types everything he feels. That wouldn’t surprise you.

I hope texting you so soon isn’t weird. No, it’s you! It’s not weird, or if it is that makes it normal for us. I hope you feel as good as I do. Good night ♥️

You pull the covers up to your chin and try to get comfortable. But you can’t take your eyes off the string of messages.

I practiced your song today! It might take a little more work to get it to sound good with my vocals. Maybe I need your input. But I’d rather surprise you!

He’s probably been working on it all week, and here you almost forgot about it. Before he sent this text, you didn’t know if he was serious, or it was just his opening line.

The sound of glasses clinking together echoes into the bedroom, and your heart pounds wildly. Then the pounding in your head starts up again, and for some reason you choose now to start crying. The tears start to brim, and you try desperately to keep them from going any further.

The sound of water running gets you out of bed fast, and you walk slowly to the bedroom door. You can see the kitchen light on through the crack, and the shadow of movement is there, too. His backpack is untouched at the end of the couch, and when you walk out to the hallway, you see his shoes next to yours. He’s washing the dishes and cleaning up the mess the two of you made.

“Seungmin”

He jumps and almost drops the glass.

“What are you doing?”

“Uh,” he sighs, “I didn’t want you to have to clean all this up in the morning. I’m sorry, I’m done.” He grabs his backpack and heads for the door. “Get some sleep before the sun comes up.”

One shoe is on, the other is halfway there as he stares at you. “Are you crying?”

You wipe at your cheek and feel what you couldn’t hold back.

Seungmin kicks his shoes off again and hesitates for a moment, but eventually, when you don’t speak, he closes the space between you. “You’re crying,” he takes your cheeks in his hands. “Please…if you won’t talk to me now, please call me tomorrow. Or text, I don’t care. Tell me you still feel the same as you do right now, and I’ll leave you alone.”

“Stop it,” you squeeze your eyes shut and feel more tears escape. Seungmin’s warm embrace, his arms holding tight around your shoulders, it makes everything else fall away.

“Stop what?”

“Being so good, and patient, and calm. You should’ve run off by now”

“Why are you so hard on yourself? You think you should be punished for…yes, I remember you saying that…for what? I know you want this.”

All you can manage is a mumble against his chest.

He relaxes his arms and grips your waist, “what did you say?”

“I do”

“Want this? Or think you should be punished?”

More silence from you, but he waits.

“I’ll leave. And I hope I hear from you tomorrow.”

He lets go, and manages to get into his shoes before you say his name. As fed up as he should be hearing his name again, he’s not. Seungmin looks at you with hopeful, tired eyes.

“Yeah?” He watches you closely, tilts his head to the side. You can see his eyes moving up and down over your body, "tell me I can stay.”

Your legs shake and your head swims. The ache behind your eyes is growing worse and worse, but looking at him makes it bearable, somehow. Even now, he’s ready to run to you as soon as you say go. But you can’t figure out why.

Seungmin is still who he is, and you’re who you are, and you don’t really belong together. Someone will find out and put a stop to it. But what if things slowly start to connect; fall into place; work out for a while? Forever? No, that doesn't sound right. Loving him before was easy, because you assumed it would always be one-sided and simple; no worries about making something work, or about working toward something. Now this is real, and it's a little bit scary looking at him and realizing how much you want him, and how big this could get.

"Say something," he sighs, and it sounds nowhere near as irritated as it should.

Your gaze drops to your feet, defeated—it moves toward his, and again, he’s taking off his shoes. Seungmin stands there and faces you.

“Okay...okay."

─ ⋅♡⋅ ─

[sil3ntfr34k]

I cannot sleep and having postal brain rot 🫶

Postal 1 Dude Boyfriend Headcanons

• Homie has been living alone with his borderline psychopathic thoughts since he was about 19, absolutely 0 social skills. But he kinda likes it like that, although it’s not good for him, but when has anyone ever liked what’s good for them???

• It was a miracle that you ever saw him to begin with. This man hasn’t left his run down home in 3 weeks and you just so happened to catch him at the grocery store buying ‘supplies’ as he calls it. You had helped him find a certain canned item (he doesn’t eat a lot so he needs something that will last for a while) and also helped him at the check out.

• Romantic love is a very foreign concept to him. As someone who doesn’t feel a lot of emotions other than fear and confusion, anything that makes him happy is something he so desperately wants to keep around. So meeting you was like a breath of relief

• It’s very hard for him to understand what he’s feeling, the constant mood swings don’t help either. One minute he’s spiraling downward, but when he thinks of you, he’s suddenly overwhelmed with this warm comforting feeling. For a while he’s convinced you must’ve put a spell on him, before you finally visit his house

• Champ, his baby boy, immediately takes a liking to you, his strong tail hitting against and knocking things over around him as he approaches you to give you sloppy kisses. Since Champ is sort of like a emotional support dog, Dude trust his judgement which ultimately leads him to be more comfortable around you

• It takes a longgggg time before Dude even thinks about getting into a relationship with you. He’s never felt this way about someone and it terrifies him. Being anti social and all makes him very skittish, so you’ll have to ease him into such a intimate relationship

• As the relationship progresses, you really start to see why no one ever talks to him. He’s weird. Like, he has a concerningly large dead animal collect, even feeding them to Champ if his food gets too low and Dude is too paranoid to leave the house. Dude also has a large weapons collection with some military grade stuff. Not to mention his expansive knowledge of the human body after death and the various ways to skin various animals (and humans, but he hasn’t told you that yet)

• Since this whole relationship thing is new to Dude, he has no idea what to do or how to do it. He never plans dates, doesn’t give you any big gifts, and hardly ever says “I love you”. Although he does love to have you around and hold you when he’s comfortable enough with it.

• The amount of illness this guy has baffles you. It’s like he’s nothing but a sick mind and weak mindset. Good luck trying to give him any sort of medication, he will run away and lock himself in the bathroom with Champ. Fully believes that any sort of pill will make ‘corrupt’ him, especially if it’s from a pharmacy.

• Having to deal with this guy during any sort of episode is EXHAUSTING. Yes you love him, but everyone has their limits. His schizophrenic episodes are the worst of them. They usually force him into a paranoid and clouded state, his mood becoming fragile and his actions more aggressive. Usually during these episodes he believes that there are people out to hurt him, to kill him, so he has to kill them first. It’s a doozy and a half trying to stabilize Dude, desperately trying to tell him he’s safe in a his home and getting Champ to sit with him.

• It’s very hard to get Dude outside of his house. His paranoia always gets the best of him and drives him right back inside the familiarity of his run down walls. Wanna go for a walk around the city to bond with him more? Good luck with that. Wanna go grocery shopping with him because he’s been living off the same can of peas for 3 days now? He’d rather starve. Wanna go shopping for his wardrobe? He has enough clothes. Although you could probably lure him out with the promise of bone hunting with him in the local forest area.

• There aren’t many dates with Dude. The entire relationship is mainly just you two relaxing on his couch watching tv. Of course y’all still do ‘fun’ things like playing board games and helping him clean up around his house, but it’s mostly just sitting in peace with him. It may not seem like a lot to you, but to him it’s the most calm and relaxed he’s been in years

• Dude doesn’t give many gifts, but he likes to give you little wooden figures he’s made. Living alone for years and having nothing but free time really gives you the ability to learn a new skill. He took up widdling and wood carving as a hobby to make hard chew toys for Champ since those rubber bones never lasted and the real bones were too expensive. Dude will give you little shiny rocks he found around the house too. He’s kinda like a crow, shiny attractive

• Trying to cuddle or hug Dude is a task. Due to his childhood, he thinks anytime someone is going to touch him it’s gonna hurt. You’re gonna have to ask him, and then slowly reach out for him. Any sudden movements will make him nervous

• Despite all these bad traits, he’s rather clingy and possessive of you. Sure he doesn’t want you to touch him a lot, but he still wants you around. Just having you in his house is like having his own personal angel. Anytime you want to leave he gets incredibly sad and starts to make up excuses of why you can’t leave. “The evil ones, they’ll hurt you if you step foot out there! Stay here with me, where it’s safe.“

ok that’s all I can think of I sleep now

[snowberrydream]

Stoma gave Käärijä a new life - english translation of an  interview for Finnilco ry 8.5.2023

Translator’s note:

If you’ve been wondering about that scar on Finland’s favorite green boi’s belly …this is about that. (Because why be cha cha cha when you can be sad sad sad and read about how he was like a week away from death at one point in his life. Though I guess it kinda fits the post-ESC depression, really)

Okay, now some actual notes about the text. So, Finnilco is a Finnish organisation for patients with stomas and the like, so the interview talks a lot about medical stuff and is clearly geared towards people with similar health issues. It might not be as ”entertaining” as all the other stuff you might’ve seen about him recently, but I recommend reading it anyways, as I feel it gives a lot of insight to who Käärijä is as a person. It hasn’t always been just crazy and party for him.

There is a lot of medical vocabulary in this, and I’ve done some intense googling and wikipedia-ing to figure out what the correct terms are, but I can only hope they are right. Trying to understand whether things are synonymous with each other or completely different things is kinda hard when you have zero knowledge about the subject. I deeply apologize for any mistakes that might occur.

I’ve also done some minor tweaks to the text (like cut down on repeating his last name in nearly every sentence) for the sake of easier reading, as the style of it is quite academic and ”dry”, but overall I’ve kept as close to the original as I could.

link to the original finnish interview:https://www.finnilco.fi/post/avanne-antoi-k%C3%A4%C3%A4rij%C3%A4lle-uuden-el%C3%A4m%C3%A4n

***

Jere Pöyhönen, known by his artist name Käärijä, is the finnish representative in the Eurovision 2023 Song Contest. The artist, known for his style and energetic live-performances, had his youth shadowed by serious health issues, to which he even almost lost his life.

By his own words Pöyhönen is still just a normal guy. Vantaa-born Pöyhönen was diagnosed with colitis ulcerosa, a type of imflammatory bowel disease, when he was young. As the disease got worse, he had to eventually have an emergency surgery, where he got a temporary stoma. Later the stoma was removed and replaced with a J-pouch (ileo-anal pouch), a reservoir pouch formed from the end of his small intestine.  Currently in good health, he wants to be open about his disease so that he could offer peer support to others battling with the same issues.

- I am truly fine with this, I am not ashamed about it, on the contrary, I want to tell about this to everyone. I hope that by sharing my experience I could help someone else, Pöyhönen says with a smile.

Symptoms lead to an emergency operation

When Pöyhönen was at ninth grade, he was diagnosed with rectal inflammation. The inflammation was treated with suppository and oral medication, and it got better. When he was 18, the symptoms returned. For a year he was on an elimination diet that kept the inflammation under control, but eventually his condition got worse again, and in the end his entire colon got inflamed. Several treatments were attempted, but none worked. At the worst point Pöyhönen weighed only 49 kg, and his hemoglobin was swaying between 54-56.

- I was still somewhat right in the head, though I was feeling dizzy and kept bumping into bathroom doors. It was quite a rough time in every way, he reminisces. He defecated blood multiple times a day and was practically bedridden, his parents had to feed him. But nothing seemed to help. Pöyhönen remembers how his mother was crying by his bedside. Back then he had blood tests done regularly to control his condition, and after one time he got a call and was told that his hemoglobin was so low that he needed to be treated urgently. After the call his dad went to start the car and drove him straight to the hospital.

At the hospital, an emergency surgery awaited. While waiting for his turn he wondered about what would happen to him in the surgery, afraid that he’d need a stoma. At the same time he thought that the most important thing was to stay alive.

- Do whatever you have to, as long as I’ll get better, he remembers thinking before going in. A stoma had been suggested to him already before, but until then he hadn’t been able to accept it and had tried to manage by other means. Afterwards he has been thinking that the fear was due to the issue being so unknown. He didn’t know much about stomas and had never seen anyone with one.

- It was a tough spot. I wondered how the stoma would affect my life and me as a person. How would I look like, what would happen to my sexuality. Those kind of things scared me the most about it, he recalls.

Life as a young person with a stoma

The first thing he did after waking from the surgery was feeling his stomach and the collection bag.

- It was a weird feeling, confusing. But at the same time I felt just immense calmness. The root of the problem, the inflamed colon had been removed entirely. Confusion soon turned into acceptance.

- I wasn’t sad about it for that long, on the contrary. When it sank in that I was still alive, the stoma felt like a pretty small thing, considering everything. It was a happy thing that I had it.

Despite feeling thankful about the stoma, it was still a shock at the beginning.

- When I was taken to get a shower for the first time and I saw it, I nearly fainted, he laughs.

The emergency surgery was lifesaving for Pöyhönen. if it hadn’t been done, the inflammation could’ve spread from his bowel to the rest of the body within weeks, or even days. So Pöyhönen came really close to death, but thanks to the stoma he got to continue living.

– Getting the stoma gave me a second chance. A chance that not everyone gets to have. But if they get it, they should take the offer with a smile.

Pöyhönen tells that he got used to living with the stoma quite quickly. But it required him to adjust his own attitude – he had to accept the situation as it was. Luckily he was able to enjoy life even with the stoma

- When I had it, I did all the same stuff as other people. I did sports, went to restaurants, I truly lived a really ordinary life.

Of course he faced also some difficult times. At the time 18 years old Pöyhönen was in a relationship, and he tells that at first things relating to sexuality felt difficult.

- It was indeed nerve-racking. Overall, you are only starting to try out stuff at that age, and then there is the stoma on top of it all.

But one thing was clear for him already at the time: 

- If the other party in the relationship doesn’t accept your situation or the stoma, then that person isn’t worthy of you.

From stoma to J-pouch

Pöyhönen lived with the stoma for five months until it was replaced with a j-pouch. In the beginning the pouch got clogged, but he didn’t tell about it right away. He was fed up with spending his time in a hospital and wanted to live a normal life. When he finally told about the clogging, the issue was fixed and the difficulties eased.

- I’ve done all the normal stuff. I’ve travelled around the world, done and eaten the same things as everyone else. 

Pöyhönen has had the j-pouch for almost eight years now. He hasn’t had any serious complications, but occasionally there’s been some milder issues.

- Sometimes there’s been minor inflammation or bleeding. Once I went to have an endoscopy after there was more blood and I got frightened. Old fears about how things were in the past rose to the surface, Pöyhönen tells.

Overall he is feeling positive about everything.

– At the moment I’m really contented with my situation, and I wouldn’t change anything. I wouldn’t even want that colon back, as this all has become a part of my identity, he says.

 Music as a part of life

Music has always meant a lot for Jere Pöyhönen. Yet it wasn’t always obvious that it would turn into a career.

While spending his time in hospitals, listening to music comforted him and gave him hope. Laying in a hospital bed with an IV drip next to him, Pöyhönen also wrote his own songs. If other patients wondered about his doings, he simply answered that he was making music.

During his time in hospital he realized that life might be short. He decided that if he’d be alive and healthy again after the emergency surgery, he’d go and try doing music for real and with everything he had. Of course, at the time he had no idea how far that decision would eventually bring him.

- My values became clearer there in the hospital. I realized what are the things I love and what is truly important for me. One of those things is music, and doing that was what I set my mind on to. 

Pöyhönen tells that he especially enjoys doing live shows, because then he gets to entertain people. He feels he is at his best while performing.

Daily life of an artist

Nowadays health issues don’t cause much trouble in Pöyhönen’s everyday life as an artist, but he still needs to take good care of his body. At gigs he must pay extra attention to what he drinks and eats, when and how much. He is sweating a lot while performing on stage, and to balance that he drinks salt/mineral water. The excitement also affects his bodily functions, and during stressful moments he’ll need to use the bathroom more often. But he tells that he doesn’t really get nervous about doing gigs anymore. 

However, the approaching Eurovision song contest is a kind of gig he has never experienced before. The event is big and the place as well as the proceedings are all new to him. Despite all that, Pöyhönen seems trustful.

- I don’t know how it is going to be like in there, but I don’t think I’ll have any problems. His confidence relies both on his general attitude and that over the years he has learned to know the way his body functions quite precisely. He knows when his energy levels are getting low and when he needs to drink or eat.

 Family’s support has been important

When Pöyhönen was sick, the support from his family was what helped him to keep going. Thanks to his family he has always felt valued and loved.

– The contribution from my parents has been enormous. I will never be able to repay their efforts, other than by being alive.

Pöyhönen tells how his parents gave him their full support while he was sick.

- When I first got diagnosed with the rectal inflammation, they wanted to figure out what could cause it right away. They delved deep into the matter, made phone calls and searched for information from the internet.

His parents drove him to his tests and put their time and money into finding out what was going on. The financial support made it possible that he could have all the different tests done despite them costing a lot.

 Stories from peers bring hope

Though his family and friends have been there for him, they haven’t been able to offer him peer support. When he was sick, Pöyhönen did sometimes feel very alone with his issue.

- I didn’t know anyone else in a similar situation as myself. I didn’t get to talk face to face with peers, he says. He did search for peer stories from internet, but people online were usually anonymous, and though he gained information through it, he was longing for human connection and faces to relate to. Lucky for him, an acquaintance of his was in the hospital at the same time as him due to a similar issue. They became friends and messaged daily through Facebook, asking each other about the number of times they went to bathroom and the like.

 Pöyhönen says that those kind of discussions with a peer were a big help. It was important to hear that someone else was experiencing similar things as him. An ice hockey player Teemu Ramstedt gave him another face to relate to.

– It gave me lot of faith to see someone else with the same stuff going on as me. That an athlete, a hockey player, had been dealing with the same issues, he tells.

Attitude and dreams helping to go forward

While being sick Pöyhönen gained strength from daydreaming and steering his thoughts towards future.

- I kept thinking that at some point I’ll have good moments with my family and friends again. That one day I’ll be healthy and able to feel happy about everything. In the end it was quite simple things that helped, and also humor helped to get through it all. 

Pöyhönen tells that he has been a joker since he was young, and when he was unwell, he also used humor to deal with the difficult things. But there was also something else hidden underneath the jokes.

- Maybe all the joking was also a survival tactic. A way to escape from it all. In the beginning I didn’t want to accept the reality, even though I tried to convince myself that I had done so. 

Pöyhönen tells that the songs he used to listen to while in hospital were difficult to listen to after he got out of there. Also some familiar places would bring up old memories in an unpleasant way.

But in the end, time heals, and years later those same songs are back on his regular playlist. Now they just uplift his mood and push him forward.

 It’s worth it to open up

When Pöyhönen was sick, he didn’t always tell about his symptoms to his parents or the hospital staff right away. One reason that he mentions was shame. At first he himself didn’t want to believe it to be real when he first saw blood down in the toilet.

- But when it happened again, I realized that this might not be something that would just go away. That it might be something more serious that should be taken care of, he recalls.

And to his younger self, or someone else in a similar situation he would give the advice that you should be open about your problems. He also encourages to try and find some peer support, as he himself was left without it for the most part. Though the bit he did get was a big relieving factor..

– When a person suffers from an illness, the most important thing really is that you are mentally in a good condition. If you are feeling down, the healing process will be really hard, he points out.

At the moment he dreams about that he and the people closest to him would stay as healthy as possible. He wishes that he would get to do things he enjoys in his life and to spend time with the people that are important to him. 

To the readers of Finnilco he sends the following message:

– Go forward with humility, but don’t be too meek either. Love yourself, your body and mind. Be well, and if problems arise, react to them right away. Enjoy life and do things that make you happy.

***

[bnhaficsforthesoul]

BNHA College AU - Midoriya Izuku

Major: Biology

Minor: Forensic Science

Sports: Track

Clubs: Various fan clubs

Ever since izuku was little, he always had an interest in helping people. He’s overly caring and too nice for his own good, and on top of that the biggest overachiever on the planet

Which is why he wants to become a doctor. He hasn’t picked a specific department to go into, because he finds everything so interesting

He did also consider going into forensic studies as a whole career, always thinking solving crimes and stopping bad guys was super cool as a kid, and he knows there are ways he can kind of mix both interests, but for now hes just aiming for his degree

He does also hope to maybe be able to teach at medical schools later in life, once he’s fully experienced so that he can pass on all this experience to the next generation

Growing up he was always weak and small, and so towards the end of high school he decided he wanted to change himself a bit and worked out like crazy, going from scrawny as hell to strong and buff.

He’s always going to the gym in his free time, and he thought it would be a good idea to join a sport that way he can have some motivation to stay fit, so he picked track since he’s pretty agile

Any time a new fan club gets made for something he happens to be interested in, he’s always willing to join it, even if theres only like 3 members. He might not be the most active member, but he loves them.

Izuku is kind of known across campus now, hes so friendly that people cant help but like him. He’s also insanely helpful, and takes god tier notes, so a lot of people rely on him for help with school work

So, he has a busy schedule constantly. He prioritizes his friends over random people always, but with his heavy study based school paths, with sports, and working out, he rarely has free time

You had had a few classes with him here and there, and talked to him once or twice. You knew he was super sweet (and very cute), but you never really expected to even become friends with the dude

Which is why you were almost terrified when he ran into the room you were using for your new club (that you literally started like 2 days ago). You were more so looking for something to put on resumes and stuff, how you ‘managed a successful club in college’ or whatever, so you decided to make a fun little fan club for your favorite anime

Sadly, people weren’t exactly rushing to it (you knew it might take a while, but you knew people would come eventually at least to check it out). Which is why izuku running in so excitedly scared you

“Oh hey! y/n right? We had anatomy together last semester!”

You nodded, kind of surprised he remembered your name, and you asked why he was there.

“I love this anime, and I havent seen any other clubs for it here so i thought i would check it out.Is it just you?”

“Yeah, I just officially started this club the other day. No ones come yet except you.”

“Ah, well don’t worry, I’m sure people will come soon. It usually takes a week or two.”

The two of you started talking more, both about the anime you mutually enjoyed as well as him giving you advice for how to make people flock to your club.

He actually stayed for the entire time you were allotted to use this room, and helped you clean up (there wasn’t much, but you still had some materials just in case people did show up)

Afterwards, you both said goodbye, and went off on your own

Following this, twice a week every week, he would meet you for your club. Eventually more people did show up as well, izuku’s advice was working well, but you were more so interested in talking with him. As it turns out, his sweetness isnt just an act, and hes actually really interesting and fun to talk to

He would eventually even come a bit early to help you set up. Youd usually bring snacks and something artsy to do, or any type of activity you could think of to relate to the anime, so you tried to get there a bit early

After club one day, about 3 months after it started, Izuku and you were cleaning up the room just talking about whatever before he changed the topic

“Did you want to go get food after this? Like real food? I haven’t eaten all day other than what you brought.”

You were a little surprised, you had never hung out outside of club really, but you were definitely happy to do so so you agreed

The two of you walked to a near by restaurant, which also surprised you because you thought he meant fast food, and went inside. He told you to get whatever you wanted, that itd be on him, and you started to protest, “No, its okay! You don’t have to pay for me.”

He shook his head, “You have to buy snacks and supplies every week, youve probably spent way more than I will today, so I don’t mind.”

You definitely felt your face getting warm. You couldn’t really help it, he was so pretty, and probably the nicest man youve ever met. You had thought lately you might have the tiniest little crush on him, but now you were thinking it was an actual crush

It didn’t help when the waitress, a slightly older lady, finally came to take your order and went “Aw, you two are so cute! What’s the occasion?” It wasn’t a fancy restaurant by any means, but it was definitely nice enough to be date quality, and it seemed the lady assumed you two were a couple

And Izuku didn’t even care! All he did was smile and tell her that its a reward for all your hard work lately, to which she said he was ‘such a sweet boyfriend’, and then she asked for your orders

You told her what you wanted, and went quiet. He wasn’t saying anything either, and you wished you could reach into his brain and figure out what he was thinking. Was this just another act of kindness from him? Did he not get what she was saying? Did he just feel bad correcting her? It was too much to process right now, but luckily your food came pretty quick so you could hide your lack of talking through eating

The entire meal was pretty silent honestly, and it was killing you. Normally, you two could talk for hours about anything, but it was just so weird right now. You couldn’t even think of anything to say, and Izuku was staring weirdly at his food.

After he paid, and you walked back towards the dorms, you thanked him for all of his help with your club and for the meal, and he said not to worry about it, your little club was essentially his break time anyways.

There were a few too many moments of silence to be comfortable, so you awkwardly smiled, said “well, still, thanks again” before running off, not noticing Izuku’s lingering eyes on you as you disappeared into the building

In all honesty, izuku was just as flustered as you were. Hes worked hard over the years to not let all of his emotions show, but inside he was panicking the entire time.

He did enjoy your club a lot! It was probably one of the better fan clubs he’s joined, but he didn’t give it so much loyalty just because of that. He stayed because of you - how enthusiastically you talked about the things you like, or your career choice, or anything. How passionate and caring and considerate you are, not to mention beautiful. You’re genuinely perfect in his eyes

Originally, when he asked you if you wanted to eat, he was considering asking you on a date, but he chickened out and made it sound more casual instead

Which is why as he walked back into his dorm, his roommate, Iida, had to deal with all of the loud groaning and mumbling coming from Izuku’s mouth

Izuku had told Iida about his crush on you, and about how he wanted to ask you out today, so his first assumption was that you rejected him. But then Izuku went over and told him about how much of a coward he is, and Iida realized he never even asked you

“It’s alright, Izuku, you can always try again next time.”

Izu shook his head, overthinking, “No, they probably think I’m so weird now. I was so awkward. They were barely talking the entire time we were at the restaurant. Even if it wasn’t a date, it was still so awkward, Iida! I doubt they’d ever even consider dating me now.”

He was kind of losing it, so Iida patted his back in an attempt to comfort him.

“Just go explain yourself now then, before it’s been too long.”

Izuku considered it, and he was probably right. If he waited too long, he might lose all his nerve and never ask you out. And if you did think today was too weird, who knows if you’d even talk to him again.

He decided he’d do it, and so he thanked Iida and went back outside and towards your dorm building. He had your number because you put it on your welcome message for the club for anyone to text you if they had questions, but the two of you had never texted before. He was always too nervous to

Soon after, you got a message from an unknown number, reading “Hey, its Izuku. I’m sorry about earlier, I was wondering if we could talk? I’m outside your dorm if you can.”

You immediately felt anxious, but happy at a chance to make sense of what happened earlier. So you got dressed (you had changed into pajamas as soon as you got home) and went back out as quickly as you could, and immediately noticed him

He was anxiously messing with his fingers, but he smiled softly when he saw you

“Hey, thanks for coming out here. I promise I won’t take long, I just needed you here in person.”

You nodded slowly, slightly confused, but told him not to worry and you didnt mind it.

“So, uhm, I’ll just get straight to the point. Earlier, I was going to ask you on a date, but I chickened out and made it a more casual thing. Which is still fine! But that’s why I was so weird, I was kind of mad at myself and kind of embarrassed. The waitress didn’t really help any, but her thinking I was your boyfriend did make me happy… Anyways! Before I go on too long of a rant, I’m just trying to say I like you Y/n, and if youd let me, I’d really like to take you on an actual date.”

Your heart was melting, he looked so cute and shy as he asked you, and it made you happy knowing your feelings were reciprocated.

“Yes, of course I’d let you, Izuku. I like you too.”

He let out the biggest sigh of relief, barely mumbling out ‘oh thank god’, and his smile only got bigger when you hugged him.

For your real* first date, he took you to a nearby aquarium, it was really cute. He couldn’t help but send this really cute selfie he took of the both of you in front of a sea turtle to his mom and his friend group chat

Most of his friends were ecstatic for him, bakugou did make fun of him though for taking so long to ask you out (of course he knew about his crush too)

His mom immediately wanted to meet you, and you did after a few weeks of dating

It really didn’t take long for Izuku to tell you he loved you, like maybe a month later at most, you’re cleaning up the club room again and he just stops what hes doing and kisses you softly before saying he loves you, to which you reciprocate

He takes you with him to the gym all the time, even if youre not super into working out you can just hang out with him or go at your own pace. But its a great opportunity for tons of hot pictures/videos

Same with his track meets, youre always there cheering him on

You two study together a lot, especially if youre in the same class or even similar ones. Izuku always makes sure youre prepared for your tests even if it means he has to learn the material with you

Izuku is genuinely probably one of the best boyfriends on the planet, you are his biggest motivation and he will do anything to make sure that you are happy

[urlocalnonbinarybastardwrites]

Hey hey! I was wondering if you could do the greasers with a hyperfeminine reader? 🫶🏽

Sureeeeeee pookie

The Gang x Hyperfem! Reader

(Tried to find accurate pics but there’s like none on friggin google- ps I could only find pink but hyperfem doesn’t necessarily mean always pink! And Hyperfem can be an umbrella term for many aesthetics (Lolita, coquette, old money, etc. that help you embrace a youthful look and femininity!)

Ponyboy Curtis

-he sees you sitting under a tree, studying one day

-and he’s like Whoa

-the background is fitting, it’s just begun spring and all the flowers are blooming around you

-quite fitting indeed for your flowy dress with light pastel heels

-he really loves your style

-and loves that you embrace your femininity

-he would try to get you things that he thinks you would like

-he smiles when he sees a pretty fabric that reminds him of you 😊

-he compares you to a lot of similar women he sees on screen with similar style (Marylin Monroe, Audrey Hepburn, etc. maybe not time period accurate but whateverrr)

-“Hey uh Y/n! I saw one of those girls that dressed like you in the movie the other day!”

-absolutely draws you

Johnny Cade

-he thinks you’re stunning

-he really loves your style and how it stands out from most people

-I think fashion wise you two contrast pretty well with you wearing more lacy things and him wearing a jean jacket

-just an aesthetically pleasing couple tbh

-he calls you things like “lovely” “love” “princess”

Sodapop Curtis

-he also adores your style

-you two fit like a key and lock

-I think for even his time period sodapop is the most embracing of his own femininity

-and he loves that you can appreciate yours

-he would let you doll him up for fun

-like putting lace or bows in his jeans and hair

-he shrugs it off whenever the other greasers give him shit for it

-he’s simply above their opinions

Darry Curtis

-he’s stunned when he sees you

-you look as graceful as a swan

-his illusion is quickly destroyed whenever you fall on a rock, right in front of him

-and before you fall he quickly catches you

-and you awkwardly get up, uttering a small thank you with an embarrassed smile

-which he thinks is adorable

-I love you guys yall are such perfect husband and wife vibes

-he loves your outfits and you both are such opposites fashion wise

-💀he throws on whatever is clean

-while you spend thirty minutes deciding what to wear

Dallas Winston

-oh, he hasn’t seen a broad like you since New York

-he thinks you’re amazing

-all dolled up

-you two definitely met when he was catcalling you on the street (why is it always Dallas 💀😭)

-and you know walked up to him, in pretty neat strides despite your heels

-and gave him a hard slap (poor dal I always make y/n slap him)

-(cuz he needs it)

-but anyway he’s kinda like whoa… you’re feisty. Don’t worry, I like that. (bc he would say that 😭)

-and you would roll your eyes at him, giving him a polite hand gesture

-before storming away in your heels

-I don’t even know how he’d manage to date you it would take months of effort

-but once you both are dating you’re pretty cute together, and you try to make him less of an asshole

-(which idk what voodoo you pulled out to make that happen but it eventually works a little)

Two Bit Mathews

-when he sees you his jaw drops to the ground

-he really loves your style

-he touches the lace and various things a lot in admiration

-he shoplifts things for you that he thinks you’ll like

-“Aw, Two! This is so nice! But, where’d ya get it?”

-“Y’know…. Don’t worry ‘bout it, y/n.”

-he makes jokes but their kinda more just about admiring your outfits

-he’s really proud of you

- drinks less when you both are a couple

Steve Randle

-he pretends to not be super impressed and amazed at your style whenever you walk into the gas station

-but he totally is and talks to Sodapop about you way too much

-“Hey, but, did you see that one chick, y/n? With all the pretty clothes and stuff?”

-sodapop makes him talk to you next time you’re at the DX

-you actually think he’s pretty cool and you two hit it off really well

-even if you both have different styles and hobbies you both love learning about eachother

-he remembers all the small things, what perfume you like, what lipgloss is your favorite brand, etc.