#have I mentioned before how much I love this community?
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more than enough | lando norris
face claim: none ♡
request: here !
requested: Hi lovely, I loved just friends!! Since reading, all I’ve been able to thinking about is bestfriend/roomate Lando. Maybe you’re not able to join him for race weekend and he hasn’t heard from you, like at all. When he returns, he thinks you’re not home until he hears the sobs and realises something is really wrong. Maybe you’ve broken up with your boyfriend and Lando is standing on the other side of your locked bedroom door, absolutely in love with you and hurting because you’re hurting 🫠
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📍 Miami
liked by oscarpiastri, mclaren and 1,387,928 others
landonorris WE FUCKING DID IT!!!!! P1 in Miami!!!!! you bitches can't call me lando nowins anymore!!!
See 997,729 other comments
fan you can tell lando runs his own social media...
↳ mclaren it is our biggest burden
oscarpiastri well done mate! well deserved!
♥️ landonorris
↳ landonorris you next osc!!!
maxverstappen1 i said i'd have to collect my wins before you start coming for them, congrats winner!
♥️ landonorris
mclaren our papaya boy, you will always be loved (heart)
♥️ landonorris
fan WHERE IS Y/N??????
↳ fan lando said in an interview that she couldn't come this week!!!! i'm sure she texted / called him
fan i know y/ns screaming and crying at the fact she couldn't be there this week
fan no lando / y/n hugging photo :((((( i miss my best friends
liked by fan, fan and 19,036 others
f1gossip Lando Norris' roommate and best friend Y/N L/N was caught in a heated argument with her recently debuted beau outside a restaurant in Monaco. The person who sent the photo in was too far away to hear the argument, but said Y/N seemed despondent to the situation, watching her boyfriend walk away before paying the bill and leaving quietly. Soon after, waiter's came to each outside table and told them Y/N sent her apologies for the commotion.
fan y/n :(((( was he the reason she couldn't go to Miami????
fan i'm gonna dox him
↳ fan i mean... i'm not gonna stop you
fan i have a knife.
fan i hope he's an ex boyfriend now wtf???
fan do you guys remember the pics of her and lando talking at padel and her bf was shooting DAGGERS at lando??? yeah somethings going on there
↳ fan we hate insecure men
fan lando i know u have money and connections i need this man to disappear
It wasn’t unusual for you to go radio silent after a race you weren’t able to attend, especially one on the other side of the world. Lando was used to a simple “congrats on P4!<3333” or wherever he had placed that time, and then you would be off to the land of dreams as he went about his day, shuffling between meetings and the media paddock.
Today was different however. Lando had actually won. He’d won his first ever race and his best friend and roommate was virtually nowhere to be seen. He couldn’t help but feel a little angry at you, you knew how much P1 meant to him, the hours he had spent moping around the little apartment the two of you shared after a bad race and the rants he would go on when he placed P2 but was inches from that ever so elusive win, slipping just through his fingertips.
He fired off one last text to you before sliding the phone back into the waistband of his fireproofs so he had his hands free to accept celebratory fist bumps and handshakes from every garage along the paddock.
The lack of communication from you slowly slipped his mind after he had interview after interview, the kind and excited words of the journalists filling him with pride as they recall just how far ahead of Max he had been. Sure, his mood soured everytime someone mentioned that he got lucky with the safety car but his mother always told him that luck was something to utilise, not something to rely on.
When he was finally free of the media’s hands, he checked his phone again. No messages from you which made him sigh, but one from Max. Opening their text thread, he’d dropped Lando a location pin for a well known bar in Miami along with the sentence “9pm, be there or be square, race winner”.
–
To be quite honest, Lando doesn’t remember much of the party. Hell, he doesn’t even remember getting there, Zak having plied him with glass after glass of champagne during their debrief. He’s pretty sure Oscar had been the one to zip his fly up when they met outside their hotel rooms before the party, hands moving up to recentre his shirt so only a slightly scandalous amount of chest showed.
Sitting on the private jet, again courtesy of Max, he thumbed through the last text thread between the two of you. You’d seemed fine, mentioning that you were going out for a meal with your boyfriend before the race started, and then… nothing. Complete and total radio silence.
Maybe you were still with your boyfriend, too wrapped up in that jackass to notice the 17 messages Lando had left you since last night.
God, he hated that guy. Ever since the day you had introduced him to Lando, he’d had a bad feeling. The guy was too touchy, arm wrapped securely and possessively around your waist like Lando was some kind of threat.
And maybe he was.
If he’d just manned up and told you the truth, that he’d loved you since the moment the two of you met one sunny day when he was still an F2 driver and you were the sister of one of his rivals, then maybe it would be his arm draped around you.
Instead he had smiled, rolled over and showed his stomach like a runt at the bottom of the food chain, and watched from afar as the guy whisked you away under a mottled sunset.
He felt a nudge at his side, eyes meeting Max’s curious ones. “Still no reply?”
He sighed, shaking his head as he pocketed his phone once again. “Maybe she’s busy…”
The excuse sounds weak even to his own ears, and when Max simply hums unbelievingly, he sighs again, mind torn in half at the elation of his win and the sadness of your ignoration.
–
Sliding the key into the door, he listened ahead for any sign of life. The sound of dishes clinking in the sink, or your playlist of noughties hits that he always pretended to hate but would secretly sing along to when you weren’t looking.
The silence that blankets him is unnerving. Too reminiscent of when he’d moved here alone and had all but begged you to join him, promising a rent free and easy going life.
Checking the kitchen, he sees it’s exactly as he left it last week. The living room is barely lived in, the odd throw misplaced from the back of the sofa. His game room door is still shut, as is both his and your bedrooms.
As he walks through to drop his suitcase off in his room, dreading the amount of washing that will fall out of it when he gets the energy to open, he hears a noise. From your bedroom, specifically.
Checking his watch, he sees its 2 in the afternoon. Normally, you would be up and out by now, dragging Lando to whatever new fad you had seen on tiktok, or to the padel courts where he would inevitably lose to you.
Leaning so his ear presses against the door, he can make out the shuffling of sheets. Maybe you had decided to do some laundry whilst you waited for him to get back. But then, the sound of sniffling joins.
He freezes on the spot, ear still pressed haphazardly to the wooden door. The sniffles get louder and louder, soon joined behind an unmistakable sob. He can feel his heart drop to the floor, his stomach joining it on its tumultuous way down.
You were crying. And he had no idea why.
Pulling away from the door, his hand hovers the knob. Should he knock first? Should he just leave you to it? Normally, when you were sad, you would sneak into whichever room he was in, either reaching a hand out to lay against his back or sitting close enough so your thighs touch. He knew you needed to feel some part of him in order to ground yourself, and he always obliged. Oftentimes, the two of you would end up cuddled on the couch, some soppy chick flick on the tv as you gave into the warmth surrounding you, eyes closing as you rested your head against his shoulder. Despite how much it hurt to see you sad, he couldn’t deny these quiet moments were his favourite part of any day.
Another sob breaks out, the sound so cruel and visceral, it was as if it had been yanked from your very soul. He forgoes knocking, hand twisting the knob harshly. He tries to push it open, only to be met by a force pushing back against him.
You’d locked the door.
In the 4 years of living together, neither of you had ever once locked your bedroom doors, knowing the other would knock before entering but still feeling comfortable enough to forgo privacy so the rooms could be open to the other whenever.
“Y/N?” He calls out hesitantly, as one would approach an injured bird.
The sobs become muffled, more shuffling of sheets before you call back to him, voice weak and torn along the edges. “Lando?”
He normally loved when you said his name, but the whine that accompanies it today leaves a sour taste in his mouth. He knows he should ask what’s wrong but he doesn’t know where to begin. He’s never not known why you’re sad, the two of you an open book shared between friends.
He starts the only way he knows how. “Did you watch the race?”
More shuffling of sheets and when you respond, your voice is closer. “I’m sorry Lan, I didn’t get a chance to.” A moment of silence passes between the two of you. “How did you do?”
He wants to be angry. He really does. The one time you don't watch a race and he only goes and bloody wins it. “I won.”
“What?” Your voice wobbles, wondering if you were imagining what he had just said.
“I won, Y/N. My first P1. 7 seconds ahead of Max.”
He waits for your response, probably some form of congratulations spoken through wood given your current mood. What he wasn’t expecting was for you to unlock and slam open the door, the both of you wincing as it bangs against the wall. “Say that again.”
He takes you in for a moment. Bloodshot eyes rimmed with violet, tears still making their way down flushed cheeks. You’re wrapped in your duvet, only your head visible as the duvet covers what is probably bedhead and your favourite set of pyjamas - flannel trousers and a t-shirt of Lando’s you had stolen at some point.
Shrugging his shoulders, he smiles warily at you. “I won.”
Throwing yourself at him, he takes a moment to steady the two of you, arms wrapping around the mass of duvets surrounding you. He can feel you crying again, tears soaking the collar of his shirt.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Lan. I should have watched, I mean you won and I wasn’t even there to watch. I’m sorry, please forgive me.” You choke through the words, fingers digging roughly into Lando’s back.
He winces at the feeling of your nails digging into his skin through the shirt, squeezing you even closer to him. “Don’t be sorry. Something obviously happened.” He uses the mound of duvet to pull you away, eyes flickering over your face. You look heartbroken in more ways than one. “What happened, sweet girl?”
Your lips quiver at the nickname, a hand poking through the duvet to reveal your phone. After 3 tries of using face ID, you huff, angrily putting in your passcode before turning the screen to Lando.
He scans the screen. It’s an instagram post by some F1 gossip page. He recognised the user as one who often tried to paint him as some womaniser, taking any regular interaction with a woman as a sign he was sleeping with them.
This post, however, is different. He sees you first, mouth in a tense line as you stare blankly at your boyfriend. Then he sees the caption.
The anger returns, festering and dark, this time directed to your dickhead of a boyfriend. “What did he do?”
You sigh, locking the screen and pulling your hand back into the duvet cocoon. “I said I wanted to go home because your race was about to start. He got angry and accused me of being in love with you. I pointed out that I was literally on a date with him. He called me every name under the sun, told me we were over and then stormed off. I’m sorry, Lan, this isn’t good publicity for you.”
He scoffed, eyebrows raising skyward. “I dont give a fuck about the publicity, I care about you. How dare he speak to you like that?” He can tell the angers bleeding into his tone but he’s about 2 seconds away from finding out where that prick lives and beating him over the head with a padel racket. “Are you ok? Do you want to put on a chick flick? Order a takeaway? Go to a rage room and plaster his face across every breakable thing?” Moving closer, he rests his hand against your jaw, nudging it between your tear stained skin and the soft duvet. “Tell me what you want me to do and I’ll do it.”
Sighing, you nuzzle against his hand. “None of that, Lan. I just want to cry and forget what happened last night.”
Swallowing his pride, he nods. “Do you want me to talk to him? I can tell him we’re not in love with each other. Just best friends.” The ending comes out a little bitterly, but he hopes you’re too distracted to notice.
You smile up at him affectionately. The simple curve is enough to make his heart flutter from where it had picked itself off the floor and wormed its way back into his chest.
Reaching up to lay your hand over his, lacing your fingers between his, you sandwich it between the warmth he so craved. “I just want to be with you. You make everything better.”
He reflects your smile, brushing his thumb along your cheekbone. You wanted him, just him, and for now that was more than enough.
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Class In Session(jhs x reader)
Pairing: DanceInstructor!Jung Hoseok x Stripper!Black!Female!Reader
Word Count: 7.8K+
Warnings: infatuated and sweetly in love Hoseok and reader, they’re both so adorable in this, hints of self deprecation, mentions of objectifying women/strippers, mentions of stripping being a shameful job, mentions of reader having previously toxic relationships(I don’t go super in detail), lying, feelings of inadequacy, lots of sad tears and happy tears🩵
A/N: I’m here with the first part of my Hoseok x stripper!reader story. Thanks for everyone who’s been waiting. This story turned out a little more emotional than I thought but after watching Hoseok’s documentaries, I’ve been really in my feelings about him😭he’s just seems so sweet and genuine which I tried to convey here. Aside from that, the smut will be in Part 2 that I’ll upload at the same time as this so don’t worry. I couldn’t not write a stripper story and not include some sexy pole dancing and super nasty smut so please read that as well! As for reader, while I don’t explicitly mention it too much, reader is on the short side, has dark brown skin and has almond shaped eyes. Reader is also wearing wigs; a burgundy one and a gray one. I’m pretty sure that’s it! As always, criticism is welcome and please don’t hesitate to tell me what you think. Until next time!🩵🩵much love
Read the smut for this couple here!
~
When Hoseok first laid eyes on you, he thought two words and two words only.
Hot Damn.
His hip hop dance class was about to start, his smile bright as he greeted his students and a few people who worked at the community center. He’s only been teaching for about 6 months but everyone had been so kind and welcoming, always inviting him to join them for drinks or to the recitals at the children’s center. He loved surrounding himself with so many people who loved dance just as much as him. He got to see all types of styles at different levels of experience and it was truly eye opening. He particularly loved the ballet class. How did they stand on their toes like that? He wished he knew how to do that.
Just as he was about to enter his dance studio, a voice calling his name stopped him.
“Hobi hyung!”
He turned, catching sight of Jungkook, one of the art volunteers. He’s helped paint all of the murals inside each studio and his class were currently creating pieces for an upcoming exhibition. Hoseok’s seen some of the work and must he say, these people were incredibly talented. One painting was a portrait that looked exactly like a photo. It was breathtaking.
“Hey Jungkook. What’s up?”
“Did you hear about the new class opening in Studio B?”
He had overheard it during breaks but he didn’t know much about it. Whatever it was, he was sure it would be interesting. There were still so many styles of dance the center didn’t have so he was excited to know what kind of class it was.
“No I haven’t. Is today the first class?”
Jungkook’s cheeky smile scared him a little. The tatted man could certainly be on the mischievous side. He scared the pants off Hoseok and many others during their haunted house last year and continued to wear the ghost mask to randomly frighten Hoseok for another week.
“Yeah. Wanna go check it out?”
Well, Hoseok’s class didn’t start for another half hour. He just liked to come a little early to set up the music and look through footage of past classes to know what his students need to work on.
“Sure.” He dropped his bag in his classroom before following Jungkook back through the lobby and down another hallway. Nothing really looked out of the ordinary.
Then they reached Studio B, the wall made of glass so that you could look right inside and what he saw made his jaw drop hard enough to hurt.
Poles. A bunch of them all spread apart so that everyone had enough space.
And on the pole at the front of class was a person spinning on it upside down, legs dropped in a split. When their stilettos hit the ground, loosely curled burgundyhair whipping up and settling over their shoulders, almond shaped eyes meeting his through the glass….
Hot Damn.
“She’s smoking, right? I met her last week and she was wearing these tiny shorts that made her ass look fantastic.”
The shorts you were wearing now was making it look just as amazing. He could only imagine what Jungkook saw last week.
Your long legs looked like they stretched on for miles, ankle bootie stilettos were on your feet and your outfit was comprised of tiny sparkly spandex shorts with a matching bra.
Your clothes allowed him to appreciate the beauty of your lustrous skin, an expanse of dark umber. It was like the sun spent a little more time adoring you.
Hoseok doesn’t think he’s ever seen someone so……majestic.
“She’s……woah.” He breathed out.
You must have read his lips because you flashed him a smirk, your red stained lips reminding him of the sweetest berries. He wondered how they tasted….
“Let’s go in and introduce ourselves.” Jungkook suddenly said, steering to the open door.
It took a few seconds for Hoseok’s brain to understand his native language, his eyes blinking frantically as he finally processed what Jungkook said.
“Wait what?” He gasped, rushing after the man who was already in the room. You had just caught him staring at you. As if that wasn’t embarrassing enough, now he had to attempt to not stutter through an introduction? Who was he? A wizard? Only magic would be able to fight through this degree of embarrassment.
He followed behind Jungkook, contemplating hiding like a child behind their mother but then he thought—I’m a grown ass man! Why is he acting so afraid of meeting a new person? Among most people, he was incredibly social and extroverted, always happy to meet someone new. Even his students had labeled him as Sunshine after his bright smile and infectious laughter.
So why the hell were his palms beginning to sweat as he got closer to you?
Jungkook was the first to extend a greeting. “Hey, that was pretty cool. When they were constructing this room, I didn’t think it was to add poles.”
“Yeah. A friend of mine donated these after he purchased an old dance studio and turned it into a clothing store.”
“That’s amazing. I’m so happy for you and your new students. By the way, I’m Jungkook. I’m one of the art teachers.” He held out a hand for you to shake but you held your hand up instead.
“Sorry. Pole grip. Don’t want to get it on you.”
Jungkook laughed. “I get it. I’ve always wondered how you don’t slide off.”
“I’m y/n. It’s a pleasure.”
Then your eyes went to Hoseok and he doesn’t think he’s ever felt his anxious in his life. You were even more gorgeous up close.
He swallowed the block in this throat before introducing himself. “I’m Hoseok. I teach dance.” Stand up job, genius.
If you noticed his stiffness, you didn’t say anything, just nodding and smiling. “y/n, it’s nice to meet you. What class do you teach?”
What class did he teach again? It was hard to remember when your sultry eyes were staring at him like he was the last piece of cheesecake at the factory.
“Uh…..hip hop. I’m in Studio E.”
You hummed. “That’s cool. I learned hip hop back home but I haven’t done it in a while. I’d love to pop into your class one time and watch you work.”
He didn’t think he could handle that type of pressure. He was struggling to keep it together right now. Imagine him trying to dance while you watched. That wouldn’t go well.
He nervously chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah….me too.” His eyes widened at the realization of what he just said. “Oh! I-I didn’t mean it like that!”
You raised an eyebrow, a bit confused by his sudden panic. He just said he wanted to pop into your class as well. What was the issue?
“Uh okay. I’ll look forward to it.” You politely smiled.
Jungkook decided to stop this train before it crashed. “Pop into my class too. We’re doing pottery next week.”
“I’ll do that. I’ve never done pottery before.”
After a little more light conversation, your students began to enter the room, telling the men that classes were about to start. You bid them both farewell with a wave and a polite smile.
Even your smile was pretty…..
~
The next month passed by quickly. You had settled in nicely to the center, everyone had welcomed you warmly and praised you for offering such a wonderful class. You’ve even given a few lessons to some of the other employees.
And you actually did stop by in Hoseok’s class one evening after yours finished a little early. He was in the middle of running through a popping isolation when you quietly entered. He didn’t notice you at first, focused on making sure his students were following him closely. He also didn’t notice how your eyes ran up his tank top clad body, taking note of how his shirt stuck to him and highlighted each dip of his abs.
Hmm.
You stayed until he dismissed his class. A few of them politely bowed to you on their way out, filing out until you and him were the only ones in the room. He hadn’t noticed you yet, gulping down water with his head tilted back. Sweat dripped down his throat, his adam’s apple bobbing with each swallow.
You waited until he had finished his water before you spoke, “nice work today.”
He startled. Well, more like jumped like he was being electrocuted, a small scream coming from him before he whipped his head around to see who had frightened him.
Once he saw you, he wanted the floor to open up and swallow him whole. It was different letting Jungkook see him afraid but for you? Those were not the signals he wanted to be sending.
However, you didn’t laugh. You simply raised a perfectly done eyebrow and for some reason, he felt like that was even worse. He wished you would have laughed. Now it just felt like you were silently judging him.
Clearing his throat, he attempted to alleviate some of the awkwardness. “Hey. Um….what are you, uh, what’s up?”
“I was watching you teach. You’re really good and your students follow you well.”
That put a genuine smile on his face. He prided himself on being the best mentor for his students and having a wonderful relationship with them. They all ranged from a spectrum of backgrounds; single parents, autistic, recovering from injuries, and so many more. And he cared for and appreciated each one, his heart feeling warm at watching them grow and have fun. That’s why he loved what he did—to see others become confident in something they never thought they could do.
“Thanks. They’ve all improved so much. I cherish each one, one’s that have left us as well. I can only hope I’ve made an impact in them, no matter how small.”
“I’m sure you have. Just from my short time here, I can tell everyone adores you. You seem like a very warm person.”
He could feel the sincerity rolling off your tongue, his eyes finally stopping their nervous flickering to meet yours.
Wow. You were just….
“I can see that with you as well. Your class always looks so riveting and fun.”
“You’ve seen my class?” The corner of your lips quirked up, eyes lighting up with a curious glint.
Realization struck him, eyes widening to the size of saucers. “Ah! I mean….well, the glass, and the bathrooms are down that hall! I was just passing by.” He gesticulated with his hands, waving them around and amusing you so.
Cute.
Your little chuckle made heat rise to his ears, embarrassment eating at his stomach. He was totally blowing this! Hoseok didn’t consider himself the smoothest(obviously by how he was reacting to the short interaction) but he just knew he had more in him. He could do better but you were just scrambling his brain, making it hard for him to gather his thoughts. His family and friends would have laughed if they could see their talkative and optimistic Hoseok floundering like this in the presence of a beautiful woman.
Worrying his lip between his teeth, he contemplated asking you a question. One that could possibly make or break your small acquaintance but he felt like if he didn’t ask, he never would.
Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to say, “y/n, are you free tonight?” He held his breath, clenching his eyes shut and waiting for your response. Would you reject him? What if you already had a lover? What if you said yes?
After a few seconds, you answered.
“I’m not.”
Store that for his 3AM random depression parties where his brain reminded him of all of the failures throughout his life.
His shoulders slumped, letting out the breath he was holding. Humiliation immediately swallowed his small burst of confidence. Of course you weren’t free. Why would someone as gorgeous as you not have things to do?
“Oh.” He didn’t know what else to say.
“I have to work but I’m free tomorrow night if that aligns with your schedule.”
He snapped his head up so fast that his head could have come off.
You….what?
He must have said that out loud because you repeated yourself. “I’m free tomorrow. Why do you ask?”
Wow. He didn’t think he’d get that far so now he was blanking. His mouth opened and closed like a fish in a bowl.
“Uh….” (Speak idiot! She’s talking to you! She said yes! Ask her out!)
The confidence of his inner voice did not transfer to his outer. He was still trying to comprehend the fact that you actually accepted his date proposal.
After watching him buffer for a moment longer, you decided to speak up yet again. “How about you pick me up tomorrow at 7? Here.” You reached into your dance bag, pulling out a pen and a small notepad of sticky notes, writing something down on it. Putting the pen back, you plucked off the note and stuck it to his shirt. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
That’s all you said before turning around to strut out of his studio. He pulled the note off his chest to read it, finding your phone number written in your pretty handwriting.
A date. He was going to take you out on a date.
He had to buy a new outfit!
~
Hoseok’s first date with you actually went better than expected. After pacing a hole in his floor, he texted you that next morning to confirm. Part just to let you know he was still very much interested and another part to confirm if you were.
He hasn’t been on a date in forever so he spent extra time getting ready, even FaceTiming his stylist friend for some pointers.
“You look fine, hyung. Black suits you(ha!).” Jimin reassured as he smoothed the mask over his face. Hoseok called him right in the middle of his million step nighttime routine. He cared about his friends but he’d be damned if he let their worries disrupt him from preventing wrinkles.
Hoseok didn’t believe it though which was kind of defeating the purpose of the call. “Are you sure? Is this material too basic? I have a black silk one too. Would that seem too pretentious?”
Turning on his humidifier, Jimin let out a sigh. “Yes it would. I’m telling you that you look great. It’s just dinner. You’ve already made an….okay first impression. I’m sure she won’t care that much about if you wear silk or cotton.”
Jimin’s inflection reminded Hoseok on just how anxious he was about this night. He was totally gonna blow it!
“You know what? I should just wear the silk one.” Rushing over to his closet, he began tossing all of his clothes out in search of the shirt.
“Isn’t it almost 7? You’re gonna be late.”
Hoseok’s eyes almost bugged out of his head, wrist flying up to check his watch. Oh shit!
“I gotta go, Jimin!”
Jimin waved, a chuckle shaking his body. “Good luck. Chew some gum.”
~
Hoseok exhaled a deep breath as he stood outside of your apartment complex. He had texted you about 3 minutes ago saying he was downstairs, only receiving a ‘be down soon’ from you in response.
He tried to settle his racing heart, constantly checking himself in his side mirror and gripping the flowers he got you tighter in his hands, the paper crinkling and filling his ears with static.
Why was he so nervous? Was it because he hasn’t been on a date in a while? Or because you were so gorgeous that it made him feel like he was going to combust at the thought of ruining this date? Perhaps both.
While he was busy fussing over his hair, he didn’t even hear the clicking of your heels against the pavement.
You didn’t immediately make yourself known to him, instead watching in amusement as he smoothed down his eyebrows and constantly ran his fingers through his hair in an attempt to make it look better. For some reason, you didn’t feel like he was vain. You actually thought he was quite adorable. Despite only knowing him in passing for about a month and hardly exchanging more than pleasantries, you found him very interesting and endearing. You could see his passion for dance, heard about how joyous and friendly he was to everyone, and witness stuttering and bashful side. You wanted to know more about him.
“Do I need to give you and yourself a moment?”
Scaring him was starting to become a little too common, much to his dismay. Was there no end to his suffering?
His body shot up rod straight, turning to face you.
“Ah! N-no! I was just….!”
This was the first time he heard your actual laugh, the music to his ears and the calm settling over the storm of butterflies in his tummy. What a delightful sound.
What was he so nervous for again?
Hoseok’s smile was winsome, lighting up his entire face and sparkling brighter than the streetlights that lined your block. As if the sun was shining in the middle of the night. It warmed your heart.
“These are for you.” He held out the delicately arranged bouquet.
Your eyes widened just a tad at the gift, pausing briefly. The slight hesitance brought his nerves back tenfold.
“Do….do you not like flowers? Are you allergic? Oh man, I didn’t even think about that! I’m sorry….I’ll just…I’ll-“
The feeling of your warm palm touching his hand made him freeze, his rambling stopping in his throat. Lifting his eyes, he was met with the gentleness of your almond shaped ones.
“No I’m not allergic.” You took the flowers from him, cradling them close and inhaling their floral perfume. “They’re beautiful, Hoseok. Thank you.”
“You’re beautiful.”
Fluttering eyelashes and a warm gaze met him, his heart thundering and ready to explode out of his chest.
“Thank you.” You whispered, flashing him a demure smile that could weaken anyone’s knees. “You look very handsome as well. I love your shirt.”
(Ha! I knew this shirt was the right choice.)
Exhaling a breath, Hoseok opened the passenger side door, holding out his hand for you to take.
And you did, your manicured hand sliding into his. He helped you into the car, making sure you were comfortable before closing the door. Rounding the vehicle, he jumped in and buckled his seatbelt, making sure yours was buckled too before starting the car and pulling off.
A comfortable silence settled in the car. Well, comfortable for you. Hoseok was almost pissing himself trying to think of a way to start conversation. The restaurant was only about 10 minutes away and the night was still young which meant there was plenty of time for you two to speak but still, he didn’t want to just sit in silence.
Ever so observant, you noticed his tapping fingers and shifting eyes. Some women would prefer a man who knew how to start and engage conversation at every moment but you were the type that didn’t mind taking the lead sometimes. Men got nervous too and not every man was the best at simple conversation which you acknowledged.
If anything, you found it sort of endearing.
“This is cute.” Pointing to the little air freshener that was clipped to the vents on his dashboard. It was a tiny horse character on top of a macaroon, a surprisingly cute addition to such a suave car.
Hoseok glanced to what you were talking about. His eyes widened, internally cursing himself for forgetting to take that out.
“Oh…uh yeah.” He swallowed thickly.
“Mang is my favorite character too.”
Okay, this had to be a dream. You were already too good to be true and he barely knew you.
“You like BT21?”
You giggled, opening your purse and digging around before pulling out your keys. The multiple keychains jingled against one another, filling the silence of the car.
Hoseok slowed down to a stop at a red light, taking this moment to turn and look at your keys.
He laughed when he saw the multiple colorful trinkets hanging from them; from an acrylic baby RJ to a snow jacket wrapped Koya, all the way to a dragon costume wearing Mang.
“Wow. You really do. And on another note, are you secretly a janitor with all those keys?”
Your hand reached out to push his arm as you both laughed. “Hey, I have you know each of these keys are very important.”
“Oh yeah?” He pointed to a random key. “What’s that one for?”
You studied it for a brief moment. “That’s uh….that’s for…” Tilting your head and furrowing your brows in deep thought, the key suddenly looking very foreign. Maybe if you act like you know what you’re talking about, you’d sound more convincing. “It…” You kiss your teeth before dropping the keys unceremoniously back in your purse. “It unlocks something.”
The belly laughter that left Hoseok was infectious, you joining in and filling the car with the cacophony of your joy. You two were so absorbed in one another that Hoseok didn’t even notice the light had turned green, the honk of a car behind him making him remember what he was doing.
Your body was slightly jerked back, your giggles dying down.
“Your janitor keys got us honked at.” Hoseok teased, glancing over at you again. It was hard not to when your face was so lit up, when your smile was so stunning.
You tsked playfully, waving your hand around. “Don’t blame my keys on your bad driving habits. That’s what you get for making fun of me.”
“Alright alright. I promise not to talk about your ridiculous amount of keys and keychains anymore……” You hummed, accepting his defeat and letting the car go silent again. “….unless we pass a school.”
“You know what?”
~
“My lady.” Hoseok held out his hand again to help you out of the car.
Playing along, you expressed, “Such a gentleman.”
After Hoseok gave his keys to the valet, he led you inside. You’ve never been to this restaurant before but judging by the interior and seasoned smells, you could tell you’d love it.
The host looked up from whatever he was doing at the podium, polite smile stretching across his face. “Ah, Mr. Jung. We were expecting you. Right this way to your table.”
Hoseok nodded, waving his arm to gesture for you to walk first.
You two were led to a table towards the middle of the grand space, soft piano music flowing and was that a waterfall wall? Wow, fancy fancy.
Hoseok pulled out your chair and waited for you to sit down before rounding the table to sit as well. The host gave both of you menus and informed you that your waiter would be with you shortly.
In prompt restaurant fashion, you both immediately opened your menus and scanned all of the choices.
“Have you been here before?” You asked.
He hummed. “I have. It’s one of my favorite places.”
Personally, you weren’t really the type to assume anything about someone’s dating life. Of course, sometimes that history could be useful to know since it could tell you how a person acts in relationships.
A part of you wanted to ask if this is his favorite restaurant because he brings many dates here but that was the kind of self sabotaging you were working on not showing.
“Well, it’s certainly a beautiful spot. Do you have any recommendations?”
It was like asking JLo about the imaginary block she claimed to spend her childhood on; his face brightening, head bobbing as he laid his menu out on the table to point to all of his favorites.
Honestly, you were only half listening to him, completely mesmerized by how adorable he was. Deep in your heart, you really hoped he would remain this way.
A few minutes more and your waiter came back with water, an appetizer that you don’t recall either of you requesting and to take your drink orders.
“Do you like wine? But we don’t have to drink if you’re not comfortable.”
Considerate: Check
“I’d love some. Thank you.”
“Red or white?”
Flipping your hair over your shoulder, you tilted your head, “surprise me.”
“Bring us a bottle of your finest Merlot.” The waiter nodded and wrote that down before asking if you were ready to order. “Yes. Bring us two of my usual please. Thank you.”
After the waitress left, you couldn’t help but wonder how well known at this restaurant he was to have a usual. He must really come here a lot or be someone important for the employees to know him. The host immediately knew who he was and they brought out an appetizer without either of you asking for it.
Your overthinking brain began to race; was this guy rich? Was he a celebrity? Would celebrities volunteer 3-4 days a week at a community center? While money and fame didn’t necessarily matter to you(to an extent), you couldn’t deny it would be a huge part of the relationship you might form with Hoseok.
(No! Don’t start that! Just be in the moment. Worry about all of that after this date), you thought. He’s already made a good first impression on you and there will still a lot of the date left. You shouldn’t judge him too early, especially when he’s done nothing that you would consider a red flag.
For now, you would get to know him better.
~
Conversation flowed seamlessly between the two of you. You talked like you were old friends, new information about each other storing itself in your memories.
You found Hoseok just as charming and happy as people described him. He shared your love of all styles of dance, specifically hip hop and street and you spun tales of some of the best years of black dance history; from the Cat Daddy to the Jerk and even the embarrassing year of the Red Nose. He listened with rapt attention, genuinely finding all of these dances incredibly interesting.
“It’s a scientific fact that you can Dougie to anything.” You informed before taking another bite of your side salad.
Hoseok chuckled teasingly with a light roll of his eyes. “I don’t believe that. I need proof.”
Pointing your fork at him, you dared, “Bet. When we have free time at the studio, I’ll prove it to you. The Dougie is never wrong and it’ll transcend time.”
“Yeah yeah.” He playfully dismissed. “Speaking of, how did you come to work at the community center?”
“One of my friends recommended I join. Her mother used to go there a lot for yoga classes. She said they’ve been looking for a new teacher and that I’d fit in with all my experience. And I wanted something to do on the days I’m not working.” Stabbing the last crispiest leaf of your salad, you brought it to your mouth.
“What do you do for work? I realized I never asked you.”
Maybe saving that piece for last wasn’t the best idea because you immediately choked on it. Hoseok made a noise of panic, grabbing your glass of water and giving it to you. Gulping down your water, you attempted to not look like you were close to dying which was harder than you thought since your diaphragm was seizing and attempting to take you the hell out of here.
“Are you okay?” He asked after you had cleared your throat and was now struggling to get that tickling feeling out.
Wiping your mouth with your napkin, you let out an embarrassed chuckle. “Yeah. Uh, I guess it went down the wrong pipe.”
Those brown eyes were filled with worry but he took your word for it, relaxing slightly.
You cleared your throat again. “You asked about my job?” Your tone was confused, as if you were still trying to process the question and you definitely were.
He nodded though, not deterred in the slightest by your previous display. “Yeah. What do you do for work?”
(Think sis! If you hesitate too long, he’ll think something is wrong!)
Hoseok was truly a great person, so honest and joyous that you felt happy just being around him. Your attraction for him was truly deepening and your hope for a relationship was climbing.
But now that he’s grown curious about your job, you worried that you couldn’t be together.
“Um….I’m a…bartender!” (Yeah that sounded convincing, you mentally chastised.)
It must have sounded genuine because Hoseok took it really well.
“Wow really? That sounds so cool. Have you been doing it long?”
A gross feeling began swirling in the pit of your stomach, all the food you’ve eaten ready to come back up.
Every lie that fell off your tongue pulled that band tighter and tighter until you couldn’t take it anymore.
However, you couldn’t tell him the truth. You couldn’t ruin this, not again.
~
Life following that first date continued normally but with the added sugar that was Hoseok. Outside of the studio, your free time was filled with cute dates; nighttime milkshakes because he couldn’t sleep, long walks along the river which included you almost falling in trying to catch your phone, and even a few movie nights at his place where you opened the world of Wayans Brothers movies like Dance Flick and Scary Movie.
Hoseok would often pick you up on his way to the studio, you always greeting him with some kind of wacky snack you found. Your recent discovery were special flavors of KitKats from Japan. His drives used to be so quiet but now he loved how you filled the silence with your music choices and endless stories about anything and everything.
Inside the studio, you two found time between classes to joke around or grab lunch. Sometimes you even tried to teach Hoseok how to pole dance, only for him to almost hurt himself trying to flip upside down without proper core strength. The way you babied him afterwards made the fall worth it.
And yes, you did prove to him that you can Dougie to everything! He took you out for crepes as a reward for proving him wrong.
“I can’t believe you just did that to classical music.”
“Believe it. And I like strawberry crepes.”
As your relationship flourished so did your nerves about lying to Hoseok about your job. The lie hasn’t come up many times since your first date but the few times he wanted to take you out on weekends, only for you to tell him you had to work made the guilt pile on higher. Seeing how deflated he got whenever you had to take a rain check felt like a punch to your gut. How long could you lie to him about this? Your grandmother always said what’s done in the dark will eventually come to light and you truly believed that. However, how could you tell him? What would happen if he found out days or when months down the line? His trust in you would surely be broken but you just didn’t have the heart to tell him.
You knew you were probably in the process of ruining a good thing for you but the fear of the unknown outweighed all of that. Your brain couldn’t even begin to overthink all of the possibilities and your late night mental breakdown parties seemed to be a lot more lively with the added nerves.
For now, you’d just try to enjoy the limited time you’d have with him and hopefully, the truth wouldn’t hurt too much.
~
When Hoseok’s friends suggested they go to a strip club as a night out, at first he rejected. Now that he was on the track of dating you, he felt like going to a strip club would be a bit like cheating. You guys weren’t official yet so it technically wouldn’t be, right? At least that’s the logic Yoongi used. Apparently, they had already reserved a section without telling him so now he couldn’t refuse. Should he tell you about it first? You told him you were working tonight and wouldn’t be able to talk much but he still sent you a text just in case.
Of course, you didn’t get it since your phone was locked in your locker and your attention was on making sure your lace laid down to withstand all of the sweating you would inevitably be doing.
“y/n! You’re up in 10!”
“Okay!” You called back, moving to put on your favorite platforms and give yourself one more look over in the mirror. “Alright, let’s do this.” You whispered to yourself before removing your elastic band from your hairline, laying down your edges to perfect before exiting the dressing room. A few other girls were all leaving the stage, holding bags with their earnings in them.
“Good luck, y/n. There’s some hot guys out there. One tried to give me his credit card.”
You and some of the others laughed. Honestly, people tried to hand you credit cards more than you’d think. One time, a lady gave you her house keys wrapped in her underwear and asked you to just “sneak in past the kids and husband”. Obviously, you returned all of her things to the friends she was with and wished them a safe travel home. You did not want to be the topic of conversation for her children’s therapy.
The lights dimmed and the DJ announced you next. Since you were the headliner and the most popular dancer of the club, you got solo stages whereas the other women normally had to go on stage 3-4 at a time. Solo stages meant more money and on a weekend like this, you’d probably be able to take a small vacation to relax.
Maybe you’d invite Hoseok too…..that fluttering in your tummy bursted tenfold just thinking about him.
“Welcome to the stage, y/s/n!”
The crowd cheered and the music started. Inhaling a deep breath, you began your ascent of the steps and to the main pole in the middle of the center stage.
Show time.
When Hoseok first laid eyes on you on that stage, he felt a combination of things—shock, desire, a little betrayed, and also a little spark of something else he couldn’t quite place. He just couldn’t believe that was actually you on stage. At first, he thought it was just the few drinks he’s had clouding his vision but once you stepped into the lights, there was no denying. That was definitely you up there.
His eyes, like many of the pairs of eyes here, were focused on your graceful figure as it circled the stage. Your body flowed like a vivid koi fish, velvety and poised. You were a picture of perfection—lovely and exquisite, you were.
Your long legs looked like they stretched on for miles, white platform heels with laces going up your legs were on your feet—your outfit comprised of a baby blue t-shirt styled crop top with a heart cut out to show the expanse of your cleavage. You also wore a matching pair of shorts that barely covered your plump ass along with 2 chains around your waist.
Even through his conflicting emotions, he couldn’t deny that you were the most gorgeous person he’s ever seen in his life.
There was still things he didn’t know about you and that he wanted to learn but that was all part of the journey. He learned new things about you everyday and he wanted to know so much more.
This, however, wasn’t what he was expecting.
When your feet touched the stage, light grey hair whipping around making you look kissed by the moon, your cat like eyes met his—sharp and beguiling, calling him like siren….
He saw as your eyes widened, almost stumbling but luckily you caught yourself on the pole. However, you didn’t have time to panic. You couldn’t waste your turn so you pushed down that building anxiety and just started your routine.
You avoided eye contact with Hoseok the entire time, not even interacting with him when you crossed his group. You’ve worn tiny little dancing sets around him before but right now, you felt exposed and embarrassed. You two haven’t even kissed yet. Now you were practically flashing him and his friends were getting an eyeful too. You’d definitely wallow in your misery later.
After your set was over, you winked and blew a kiss to the crowd, absorbing the cheers. The lights dimmed and you crouched down to begin gathering your money. When you moved to the side of the stage where Hoseok’s group was, you dared to look up.
A gasp got caught in your throat when you saw Hoseok looking directly at you. One thing about Hoseok was that he wore his heart on his sleeve, you could see every emotion painted across his face.
And the main one you saw was hurt. His eyebrows were furrowed, pretty brown irises searching yours. That anxiety you had repressed earlier was starting to bubble back up, guilt making you feel sick.
You dropped your head, quickly gathering the rest of the money, you shoved it all in the bag, probably missing some but you didn’t care. You just had to get out of here.
Shame burned at your chest as you rushed back into the dressing rooms, ignoring the other’s praises and just hightailing it to the bathroom. It was empty, thank goodness, so no one could see you cry.
You had messed up. You lied to him, the first real connection you’ve had seen you moved here. Why had you lied to him? Now he knew and you were positive he’d never want to speak to you again.
Why would he? You were a stripper—you dressed in barely there clothing and danced for money. You didn’t necessarily feel ashamed of your job but it was different when it was just strangers knowing you vs people from your personal life. There was a lot of negative stigmas around your profession. Weird considering people filled clubs by the boat load and had no issue handing their money to the dancers. Then again, societal standards weren’t known for being very consistent.
But still, you didn’t want Hoseok to judge you because of what you did. He probably wouldn’t but your insecurities told you otherwise.
Wiping your tears, you went back to the dressing rooms, going to your locker. You unlocked it and began gathering your things, deciding to call it a night. You’d just tell your boss you started your period or something, he didn’t even know what an ovary was so you doubted he’d question you.
After changing out of your clothes, you bid the others goodnight, ignoring their confused looks and exiting through the back entrance. Your car was parked kind of far. You did that on purpose to prevent creeps from figuring out where you worked, you also often parked in busy garages just in case someone decided to follow you. It’s happened a couple of times and thankfully nothing has ever gotten physical.
You pulled your jacket around you tighter, the wind blowing a bit hard today and making your nose feel runny. You just wanted to go home and drown yourself in all of the snacks your dad sent you from America.
“y/n!”
You froze at the call of your name, recognizing that voice immediately. You couldn’t mistake that for anyone else.
A part of you wanted to run but you knew that wouldn’t be right. You were an adult and you needed to face your issues like one.
You slowly turned around, finding Hoseok jogging towards you. He looked so handsome. Too bad you’d lose him soon.
He stopped in front of you, breathing a little heavily from his small burst of exercise. Your eyes couldn’t lift to meet his, your waterline tingling as tears threatened to rise. Now that he was standing before you, nerves and shame engulfed your entire body. What would he say to you? Would he call you disgusting and demand you tell him why you lied? Would you tell you to lose his number and to never call him again? You don’t think you’d be able to handle that but you knew it’s what you deserved for lying.
“H-Hoseok….I…” You started but your throat tightened up as the reality of facing him began to settle. What could you even say? Nothing would justify you lying to him so it was best for you to just tell the truth and leave before you embarrassed yourself further.
“Why did you lie to me?”
There it was. Out of the billions of things he could have said to you, that was the one question you weren’t prepared for. Hell, you weren’t really prepared for anything at this point.
Swallowing thickly, you began, “Hoseok, I’m so….I’m so sorry I lied to you. It’s just…..I was scared of telling you what I really did because….I thought you’d think I was some kind of bad person.” That was putting it lightly. You’ve been called much worse than that.
He remained silent and you couldn’t tell if that was a good or bad thing but you figured you’d continue while you still had the “confidence”.
“To be honest, I’ve told the few people I’ve met before and they’ve always treated me like some sort of toy or they’ve acted disgusted by me.” Your body shivered at some of the disgusting things that have come out of people’s mouths when they found out you were stripper. You know your job was practically you sexualizing yourself but that didn’t mean you wanted it in a relationship. You were more than your job but a lot of people couldn’t see past that. “And I was scared that you’d do the same.”
Taking a deep breath, you lifted your eyes to lock with Hoseok’s. He hadn’t really made a move since you began talking, his own eyes still looking conflicted.
“And I like you so so much, Hoseok. You’re such an amazing person. Call it selfish but I just didn’t want to lose you. You’re the first person I’ve ever truly had feelings for and I wasn’t ready to let that go. And I’m so genuinely sorry that I lied to you.” You wiped your tears, averting your eyes once again because looking at him was starting to become too much. “I understand if you don’t want to see me anymore.”
A pause. A tension. A silence so thick that you could hear the blood rushing through your veins and your heart booming in your chest.
Hoseok truly didn’t know what to say to you. There were so many things he had questions about and so many things he wanted to say but his mind was still racing from all of the information he’s absorbed within this one night.
“y/n…..”
Clenching your eyes shut, you held your breath. Here it comes.
“Who says I don’t want to see you anymore?”
A gasp flew from your lips, your head snapping up to look at him so fast that your neck cramped a little.
You were sure your confusion showed clearly on your face, your eyes searching his face for any sign of dishonesty. Then again, you wouldn’t be surprised if he gave you a taste of your own medicine. You’d probably deserve it.
Yet that serene smile he sent you would make you believe anything he said.
“W-what?”
Reaching his hand up to rub at the back of his neck, he sighed. “Yeah sure I’m upset that you lied and yeah your job is definitely surprising but….” His eyes seemed to sparkle as they looked at you, full of adoration and sincerity. “I like you for you, y/n. You’re also the first person I’ve ever had real feelings for and I wouldn’t want to lose you either.”
He reached out to grab your hand, lacing your fingers together and bringing them up to place a kiss on the back of yours.
“You’re the perfect person for me. Your job is a little jarring but I don’t care about that. I care about you and I want to be with you. As long as you’ll have me.”
Doubt. That’s what you always felt as you walked in and out of relationships. You doubted yourself. You doubted others. You doubted if you even deserved a tender love, if you deserved someone to call your own.
But hearing Hoseok’s sincere words, feeling his soft hands, and gazing into his eyes, the only emotion could you feel was overwhelming relief.
You were so relieved.
You couldn’t stop the tears, leaning your forehead on Hoseok’s shoulder to which he wrapped his arms around you and tightly hugged you.
“I’m so sorry, Hoseok.” You sniffed.
“I know. I accept your apology.”
He smiled as your body shook with tears. Truth be told, he had a feeling something was off. The way you’d slightly panic whenever he’d invite you somewhere on the weekend or how you’d quickly redirect the conversation whenever he’d ask you to show him your bartending skills. Something told him you were lying but he didn’t want to pressure you too hard. You were still in the newer stages of your relationship and he was trying to be careful about how he approached you. Whatever it is you were keeping from him, he assumed it was personal and that was okay.
While he wasn’t expecting this big of a discovery, he was secretly happy it wasn’t something completely out of pocket like you being a drug dealer or something. A stripper wasn’t that bad especially considering what you taught at the studio.
He did like you. A lot. You were joyous and funny and he loved spending time with you. Those feelings weren’t gonna go away just because of what you did for work.
After all of your tears had dried up and your sinuses had been blocked from the crying, you pulled away from Hoseok.
He smiled that bright smile and teased, “all done?”
Pouting, you nodded.
“Great. Now why don’t we get from the middle of the street because people have been staring at us weirdly.” He informed with a laugh which made your eyes widen, looking to the side to find a small group of people looking at you both.
Burying your head back in his neck, you groaned. Wow, you didn’t know if this night was getting better or worse.
Hoseok squeezed your hand again, your teary eyelashes fluttering at him and he gave you that wonderful smile.
“Come on. I’ll walk you to your car.”
“Okay.” You dreamily sighed.
Hand in hand, you two walked away. Both from the pain and into the future where your lives would forever be intertwined.
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we play dumb but we know exactly what we’re doing • ttfd
chapter two of the tortured firefighters department
previous chapter | masterlist | next chapter
cw: fem!reader, afab!reader, no descriptions of reader, banter (because i love it), mentions of food, bobby almost adopting brains, proofread by my bye-lingual ass (let me know if i forgot anything)
Your sneakers made funny noises while you walked up the stairs to the communal room — the mezzanine with a view for the ground floor — at the 118 firehouse. The fresh baked brownies — that you baked the night before, just in time to put it on the blue tupperware and take with you for your shift — jiggled as you approached the top of the stairs.
You checked the garage again, looking for Chimney’s ambulance, when you found the loft empty. Well, not that empty.
“Good afternoon, Captain Nash.” You greeted the man. As a dispatcher, your voice was your most recognizable mark, only giving out your name when necessary. And in your job, it was your responsibility to know the names of the captains. You wished Captain Nash was just an occasional contact, but lately he has been the one on the other end of the comms.
“Afternoon, dispatcher.” He was preparing some lunch for his team. “How can I help you?”
“Is Chimney around? I have something for him. Actually, it is for Maddie and baby Jee.” You motioned to the tupperware.
“He’s gonna be back soon, got stuck in traffic after delivering a civilian to the hospital. But if you are in a hurry, I can give it to him.” The captain was busy with the pans on the stove and chopping vegetables for a salad, you supposed.
“Just left my shift, I can wait. I don’t trust firefighters with carbs and sweets, no offense.” You pulled one of the chairs and took a seat, still watching the man moving effortlessly in the kitchen. “She called in sick and I need to deliver these to her before I have a kid on my doormat demanding more than just brownies.”
“None taken. Can I get you some coffee while you wait?”
“Tell me where to find a cup and I’ll get it myself, don’t wanna delay your lunch.”
“Second cabinet on the left.”
“Thanks, Cap.”
You stood up and walked into the kitchen. You have to admit: they were definitely eating well because it had all the appliances necessary for any recipe, and the smell was divine. Even the coffee had a unique aroma. Who could you talk to in order to get half of what they had in the firehouse?
“It’s the least I can do for the mastermind behind the calls after that huge traffic jam downtown last week.” He smiled. “How did you manage to divert the teams and the civilians so fast?”
“Just like ants follow patterns, so do the LA drivers. GPS apps can give up the fastest options based on their data, but it takes too much time when it comes to rescuing someone.” You explained as you walked back to your seat. “Glad no one was badly injured that day.”
“I’ve never got to an accident scene so fast. You’re really good with predictions.”
“I think my future could be bright if I used my superpowers for fortune telling and betting,” you joked. “I should be the one thanking you for all your work. And your team.”
“Bring us some of those,” he was clearly talking about the brownies, “any time.”
“Will do.”
As you finished your cup of coffee, you saw the ambulance entering the garage. Chim and Henrietta, his paramedic partner, left the vehicle and went straight for their lockers. A few more minutes wouldn’t kill you.
“Wanna stay and have lunch with us?” Captains Nash offered.
“Maybe another time. Thanks.”
It didn’t take long for Chim to show up upstairs. He looked surprised to see you in the 118 kitchen. You stood up and gave him the tupperware. “I told Maddie how many brownies I got her, so don’t fuck it up,” you warned him.
“Your package is safe and sound with me, Brains. Are you in a hurry?”
“Kinda. I have an important meeting with my bed.”
“Fair enough.” He patted your shoulder, acting like the big brother Maddie warned you about.
“See you soon, Chim. Thanks for the coffee, Cap!”
They waved goodbye, and you looked forward to spending the rest of your day sleeping. No calls, no traffic, no thesis: just you, your recently washed bed covers and fluffy pillows. The only thing in your way was a few miles to your apartment.
“I thought I’d hear you before seeing you again, Brains.”
It was scary how, after one meeting, you could recognize his voice anywhere.
“Guess it’s your lucky day, Buckley. Don’t get too happy, I’m already leaving.” You turned around to face him. The black firefighter uniform fitted him very well, even better than the white polo shirt and jeans he wore to the dinner.
“Is everything alright?” He tilted his head slightly, and kept his voice low.
“Yeah, just dropping off something for Maddie. Busy day?”
“Small domestic incident with light injuries, and a foundation problem.”
“So just a normal day in LA.” You knew about the banned Q-word, it was kinda a thing with every single 9-1-1 worker, including dispatchers. “Saved any cats from trees lately?”
“Ha-ha, you’re funny.” His voice was warm, but his face was dead serious. You were playing hot and cold, again and again. “Did moving go well?”
“My arms are sore, but it’s finally over. Thanks for asking.”
“You could start working out to help next time you move. Or if you decide to join the firefighters.”
Both are definitely bad ideas. Why would you need to add another activity into your packed agenda? You turned around and followed your way to your car. “I’ll leave the muscles for you, Buckley.”
“See ya, Brains!” He shouted on your back.
“Bye!” You motioned your hand in a goodbye, but didn’t look him in the eye.
Unbeknown to you, the rest of the crew was watching you both and placing bets on how long until one of you realized the banter was just the first step of something bigger.
author's note: first of all, thank you for all the love on the chapter one!!!! i think it was the first time a first chapter gets so much love, likes and attention on its first week! again: you can share some thoughts and request scenes and blurbs for this series anytime, feel free to be creative! see y'all next week
#evan buckley fanfic#evan buckley#evan buckley x reader#evan buckley x you#9 1 1 abc#9 1 1 fanfiction#evan buck buckely#buck fanfiction#evan buckley imagine#effie writes
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One of the things I'm- well, not disappointed by it's to be expected- annoyed by is X-Men '97's portrayal of Morph as a queer character. Morph is an AMAB nonbinary person who likes men (AMAB being important here because liking men will be interpreted as gay regardless of how Morph sees their gender). We were explicitly told before the show aired that they're nonbinary, but the only proof we get of that in series is two blink and you'll miss it, easily ignored and brushed off scenes where Cyclops and Rogue respectively refer to Morph with they/them in two episodes.
And to be honest, it feels like baiting when we get nothing else. It's Loki all over again where the creators say "you're gonna get representation!!!" in interviews that only more dedicated fans will see but resign actual canonical confirmation to something easily missed.
The justification for this is, of course, that the show is set in 1997, of course they aren't more explicit because of the social circumstances! But nonbinary people existed back then and there were people who were aware they were nonbinary and made communities to talk with each other. There were activists who were openly genderqueer. There's even at least one case I know of of a nonbinary character being in 90's comics. Though not positive representation, in Ghost Rider 2099 #10 [pub. 1994], Ghost Rider refers to a side character with ze/hir pronouns.
And it's not like Morph doesn't know they're queer. They're out! Why else would Rogue and Cyclops refer to them as they openly and in public? And how? If they're not more explicitly queer because "It's the 90's" then what's with the period atypical acceptance from their teammates?
Even if they went with the "Morph doesn't know" route, people who don't know they're nonbinary or have the words to describe themselves still have trans experiences like dysphoria and a feeling of wrongness about their gender which can be explored even if your character is an egg (not a literal egg ☠️, a trans person who hasn't realised they're trans).
For example: Morph primarily goes by their codename to the point where their civilian name isn't even mentioned. There could have been a scene where someone called them their male civvie name and they get uncomfortable and say they prefer Morph, their gender neutral hero name. And when asked why, they could just be confused and defensive because they wouldn't have the words to describe dysphoria.
They could even set up a realisation arc with Morph experiencing dysphoria, but not knowing what it is or why they feel that way, and then meeting nonbinary people next season when the X-Men are time travelling and going "Oh. That's me."
But we get none of that! We don't get out and proud, no/low transphobia representation or subtle, historically accurate representation of a closeted trans person in an even less accepting time. We get the historical inaccuracy of option A and the understatedness of option B for the most minimal attempt at rep possible, which boils down to just two headscratchingly anachronistic uses of they/them pronouns. Truly the worst of both worlds.
And on their feelings for Logan, that wasn't said before the show aired afaik and was just part of the narrative, so it wasn't baiting, but it was relegated to subtext that could also be interpreted as non-queer. So much so that it had to be confirmed by the writer on twitter when it should have been clear cut in the show.
Why didn't we get more content about that? If they can fit an entire love triangle around Rogue, Remy and Magneto, why couldn't we get more about Morph's feelings for Logan? Why didn't we get them pining for a friend who'll probably never return their affection, them worrying over how he'd react if he found out? That kinda thing. There was an entire plot point where characters were faced with their fears, would that not have been a good opportunity for Morph to be faced with theirs over being realised as queer?
Honestly there were shows and comics actually made in the 90's that were bolder with queer rep. I don't know the behind the scenes situation or how much the showrunners had to fight for this, but regardless of who made the decisions, it's still cowardly and frankly not enough in 2024.
#u kno i wasn't expecting this to get so long but nevermind a bitch gotta bitch#morph#x men#x men '97#marvel#negativity#criticism#nonbinary#queer#meta#long post#📨
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WIP DAY.
tagged by @girlbosselrond @morvaris @aartyom @risingsh0t @phillipsgraves @leviiackrman @indorilnerevarine & @denerims over the past month! sorry it's taken me so long to get to anything at all, i'm sure you guys have heard me address it enough, but thank you all so much for continuing to tag me in things while i've been inactive ♡
tagging @aelyosos @brujah @calenhads @florbelles @jendoe @lightwardens @liurnia @nokstella @nuclearstorms @shadowsofrose @shellibisshe @steelport @swordcoasts @wrymbloods @voerman & all of those who tagged me again cause i'm so behind + anyone else who'd like to share anything they're working on, not just writing! ♡
i haven't written anything since the last wip game i did, but i started trying to put diana's timeline together at the start of january, so i mean... i'll show that instead. as you can see, fatigue hasn't let me do much with it even though i've got all of her timeline already done and strewn about all over the place.
started with 1995 onwards cause it was originally going to be an ewskers timeline situation, but then wanted to include all of her backstory so i went back to the start and still have the late 80s and early 90s to get through before then, but yeah :]
it's going to include like all little moments i've thought of between the ewskers just for me and placing them on the timeline, so you can imagine how long this is going to get if i have to go to 2021 for village... like just 1996-1998 is going to be so much... she's very special to me if you couldn't tell already lmaoo
never sharing this though, it's just for me, and like will help for when i do her timeline page (more in-depth version of what's on her oc page) to just run through canon events and brief descriptions and whatnot. you understand.
everything is blurred out besides 1995 ewskers momence and the years, just cause like idk her i feel weird sharing her in-depth backstory unless it's in dms or something, just cause there's lots going on there and yeah. things. idk
i also made a carrd for twt if you wanna have a look at that :] there's some cheeky subtle things with the two resi items i used as pics hehe
actually, you know what, i'll give a lil bit from where i left of with that rewrite anyways, even though it's been months since i wrote it. but why not
Wesker left a fleeting kiss behind her ear then reached around her and hooked his fingers beneath her coat, prompting Diana to glance back at him. But all he did was gently pull it from her shoulders. She watched him from out of the corner of her eye as he hung it up on the rack by the door, his movements careful and almost calculated, until he turned back towards her, and the warmth of his body returned once more.
He pressed up against her side this time, as opposed to her back, and one of his hands found a home on her waist. The way the arm it belonged to was resting firmly against her as he began leading her towards the kitchen was comforting, secure, yet unmistakably possessive. And she revelled in it. He had quite the knack for handling her just the way she wanted.
#tag games.#keep going to do picrews and just zoning out 😭 i'm so behind on literally everything but it's fine it's okay (lying)#i'm having a day and a half even though i woke up feeling okay but oh well. my last month has just been like watching videos during the day#or playing games when i have a bit more energy but like i can't do anything that requires me to actually read or write things like words#are just not computing in my brain at the moment but it's okay like i'm just exhausted and hoping soon i can get back to writing because i#still have over 30 wips going lmao but yeah it's been a time a half with lots of appointments and seeing specialists again and trying to#sort things out. i've been more active on twitter which i've mentioned before but it's just because like it's easier for me to sort of just#like and rt things and not having to do my organisation tags and things like i know that sounds so just small and simple but that's how#i've been lately like to my brain rn that seems like a really big task. so i just keep coming on here randomly for a few minutes then#disappearing so i'm sorry that i've definitely missed so much and i haven't been around to just show my appreciation and love to your#creations!! also just everything that happened in december and then a bit at the start of january too like i'm just a lil paranoid about#being on here honestly so i'm trying to get back to it and be okay with posting again and i'm going to make a promise to myself to actually#filter more tags i think? just to help me with like not exposing myself to things that do make me feel uncomfortable in any way!! i'm#rambling now but sorry sometimes i just need to lmaooo idk but yes so cute lil subtle things from my carrd i wanna talk about cause why not#i didn't have to change the blue herb from re0 besides making it brighter because it's already teal toned which is so sexy but i shifted#the hue on the spade key like SLIGHTLY like it was so little. but anyways. i use this emoji ✨ on my twitter name and yes cause sparkles but#also. three stars. the s.t.a.r.s. badge and logo :] then blue herb because i will have no poison in my safe space!!!! take a blue herb or#leave please!! only good vibes and safe space here!! spade key because i'm ace <3 i was going to include the diamond one in there as well#because am demiro and like those are the symbols in the community. ace of spades for ace. diamond for demis (both orientations)#but wasn't sure how to weave the pink through the rest of the carrd even though cyan and pink together is so pretty omg
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haaaaiiii guyyyyssss (gn) probably gonna be on here more often again soon. life events occurring. have occurred? still occurring, i suppose.
i'll probably post abt it more in depth at some ltr point, still in the very early stages of some stuff. i dont want to classify them as positive or negative things, however they're certainly things.
there's a lot of thoughts in my brain (hah), and ultimately i want to share them, but for now this is kind of me waving at everyone with a smile while my life has an "under construction" sign
#the last sentence also pertains to system stuff bc there was a major split from a significant alter#so like imagine an 'under new management' sign as well#not a host shift tho afaik but the split has resulted in a new fronter who's very active and has been co-con very frequently since#i've been having a Time recently in ways i'll ltr divulge abt but i finally established a solid communication with her today and that helped#i dont know how many splits/alters had broken off because intuition is saying a few but she's the most present and active in my awareness#i think we settled on her name being Lily but that may not be concrete#for a few alters i get like a single letter for their name and i try to work with them to find a name within that letter that feels right#one of my oldest and closest alters has only had the letter 'E' for the longest time and he and i cant find a solid name yet#every now and again im like 'edgar??? edwin??? edward??? emil???' and he's like 'fuck if i know' so like. fair enough dude.#i wonder if he'd like ez/ezara given that's a name we picked for ourselves pre-diagnosis however he doesn't fit that name in my opinion#ANYWAY. Lily is a teen girl in very much every way possible and she's very much an ANP#she is loved but as i type that she made it clear she's having an eyeroll reaction but that is the best i've got lol#i dont really mention system members often on here and mention them moreso to friends however i have a feeling she'll want a sideblog tbh#which is not something i've created/done for alters before as generally most of the system choose to be more private#but she seems extremely social and i want to give her her own space#i hesitate to give her an okay posting on her own on here mainly because i am an adult and i consider this blog an adult space#but im also okay discussing her in reference if that makes dense#anyway. yeah. as you can probably imagine shit has been Going On given there was a major split/restructuring but again that's for later#that's enough rambling from me lol ttyl
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#personal#its ridiculous how i was so depressed 2 days ago and then my partner was like. whay if i came over right now even though#its almost midnight. and what if i slept over at your house for 3 nights in a row. and now im sitting here having eaten breakfast for the#first time in like 4 weeks and feeling happy waiting for him to wake up so we can shower together and were#gonna go on a build-a-bear date and i no longer feel like i deserve to d*e with him here#hes just so sweet and i love him a lot and im really lucky to have him in my life <3 ive never been in a relationship where i felt this#safe and comfortable and accepted before and i know he hasnt either and its just nice#definitely helps that were both trans autistic queers with parental trauma so theres a lit about each other that we understand without#needing to explain it in depth#but also he really values communication and even thiigh im so used to shutting all my feelings off and not telling people about them#im trying really hard to not do that with him and its? nice not bottling everything up for once?#he really listens to me when i talk and tries to understand and respect my boundaries all the time and its realy nice to have that#ive been awful at establishing boundaries in past relationships and i didnt feel like my boundaries mattered to at least one ex so its#a nice change of pace to have someone go out of their way to make me feel reapected and valued like thay#and thats not even mentioning all the hot gay transgender sex we have because like. both being on t kind of makes that a necessity dhdjdjdj#its just nice having him in my life and feeling loved and cared for and getting to love and care for him back and im so lucky#that everything fell into place for us to date each other because i really dont know what id have done without him this past half a year#this is so long fhdjsjsjsj im just waoting for him to get up and feeling emotional about how much of a good influence he is in my life <333
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Also holy shit it's so nice having a phone that doesn't die in like 2 hours like I was able to watch a video on it while I ate smth and it didn't immediately drop to 40% I can actually use my phone again yayyyyy
#rat rambles#and I can finally ditch that stupid fucking bluetooth charging disk I hate it SO much#oh also for some context on why I got my phone it was a mix of a birthday gift and a starting college celebration gift#and I dont think Ive actually mentioned the college thing before? so uh ya thats kinda happening#and by kinda I mean Im only dipping my toes in with two community college classes#a japanese class and a 3d animation class since those are both things Im interested in#I got to tour the campus today and its a nice place so Im hesitantly excited#because I genuinely do wanna take these classes and its like. smth for me to actually go out and do yknow?#but its also yknow. school.#ofc its not as bad since its only two days a week and I only have to be there by like 3 pm#so I am excited just also a bit nervous still#hopefully itll go well tho! I heard that the japanese teacher is well liked at least so thats smth#oh but I am not looking forward to rolling the dice with the other students in my japanese class#I have a History with attracting the worst flavors of anime kids for my entire life I am gonna have to be on high alert dhmdyd#especially since Im genuinely just interested in learning japanese cause it appeals to me as a language I do not wanna deal with this#Ive had enough ppl first convo tell me abt how much they love yaoi I will cry if I have to keep playing nice with these ppl </3#hopefully theyll just be normal tho#it would be cool if I could make some like. actual irl friends#I am struggling to fight against my general school pessomism but I wanna believe Ill meet some nice ppl#I could really Really use some irl friends who I could actually go out and like. do stuff with.#bonus points if theyre fellow queer ppl (fellow aros especially pls pls pls pspspsps)#not gonna hold my breath on that last part tho Ive met like. a aro person and I didnt even talk to them abt aro stuff much#I actually think we followed eachother on here for a while on my old main but idk if they remember me#but ya things are certainly abt to happen rn today was a good day and Im hoping things will keep going well#again I cant help but struggle with being optimistic abt anything relating to school but I am still managing to be excited for now#lets pray that my 3d animation class will use smth that my laptop can run </3
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a reflection on MatPat's plagiarism
Hello, my name is Della, or micer2012, and 2 years ago Game Theory plagiarized three Tumblr posts of mine, making a video that now holds almost 6 million views.
My posts explaining his plagiarism made their rounds on Reddit, Tumblr and Twitter, but despite the Hermits and Pooka commenting on it (generally in support of me or saying they don’t know enough details about the situation to say either way), MatPat and his team have never owned up to anything, and no mention of my name is present on the video. The one Reddit post they made denying it (which was made before my detailed takedown, which they have never responded to (though the mods on the r/GameTheorists Reddit were kind and made sure it stayed up)) didn’t even mention me by name, just referring to me as “a tumblr user”. (Though one of the screenshotted comments in the body of the post does say my name)
This experience was baffling, but it’s overall had a positive impact on my life. r/Hermitcraft gave me a Golden Apple Award (post of the year, 2021). My inbox was filled with excited fans, wanting to ask me questions or pose their own theories, far more than the hate I got. (Though the hate I got from Game Theory fans was VERY funny. I wondered why none of them gave me shit about saying “MatPat misgendered Evil Xisuma” before realizing none of them read that far into the post.)
And getting on a more personal, and much more important note, I met most of my current online friends through this, including my partner. It helped me grow closer with my irl friends as well and gave me an entertaining story that I tell whenever I have the chance. It was one of the first things in my life that really made me feel like my talents, my autistic hyperfocusing and analyzing of things I love, could be valuable. Useful. Exploitable. It blew my mind that MatPat thought an autistic kid’s ramblings about a Minecraft Youtube joke character were good enough to steal. To put an audible sponsorship on. To get 6 million views off of.
And that’s why I’m writing this post, this update years later. As you might’ve been able to guess, Hbomberguy’s Youtube video on plagiarism reopened this wound. It was really hard for me to sit through, it took days of pausing and taking breaks, because I had experienced everything he was talking about firsthand.
In my 10 page long takedown post, I wrote about how his rewording of my sentences made him say things that were incorrect, just like Filip did. The content farm production style that made big companies like Cinemassacre take one creator (AVGN/MatPat) and turn him and his content into a brand, a voice that reads out scripts by other people with other opinions/theories, is a history shared with Game Theory. What really hit me was Harris talking about how big creators only do this to people they think they can get away with doing it to. How they view their victims as lesser, as not deserving of their words, repackaging them as their own to give to an audience that can gain from hearing them, but deserves better than to have to listen to the original victim.
That’s the thing, I 100% think a video version of my theory to expose to a bigger community than “Evil Xisuma Fans on Tumblr” is a great idea!! Near the end of the video Harris talks about how video adaptations of things could be a great market, even an accessibility tool, and I completely feel that about my posts. I wrote them quickly assuming the reader was someone well versed on Evil Xisuma lore, after not even watching most of the CarnEvil series, and the diagrams I made to explain them are even less comprehensible. Harris makes a joke that I completely agree with,
“I’m sure some of my videos would do very well if someone translated them into English.”
I don’t think I would’ve ever made my posts if I didn’t have autism, and a special fixation on Evil Xisuma and Hermitcraft. I made them because I felt the character was being done an injustice, and because I wanted to share with other superfans this theory that might explain it away. I do think that MatPat plagiarizing me was ableist. I used to wonder a lot if this would’ve happened if my posts were articulated better, if they had been peer reviewed, if the posts themselves had been spread to a wider audience before MatPat made his video. At one point when the discourse was fresh (before I had the time to write out my 10 page rebuttal), a bigger YouTuber (100k subs at the time) messaged me and started talking on Discord, interested in possibly making a video on the discourse, but I think my style of typing and general enthusiasm drove him away. You can tell by a single look at my blog (or my original 3 posts!) that I don’t usually type like this. This post you’re reading now has been peer reviewed and edited, and took me hours to format correctly. That video could’ve been huge, the entire outcome of this MatPat situation would probably be much different.
I also used to stress a lot about “being the one who ruined Evil Xisuma’s story”. If you didn’t know, to me S8 Evil Xisuma’s story got wrapped up pretty quickly and unsatisfying (in my personal autistic opinion). (though this might’ve been due to s8 being experimental and ending early with moon big) There was no real culmination of the plot points and arcs going on, and I don’t want to blame myself, but when Xisuma said on stream (when the MatPat thing was first going on) that he didn’t want to focus on the discourse or draw more attention to it, it makes a lot of sense to me that he just wanted to wrap it all up as quickly as possible. For a while I beat myself up about it, of ruining the story of this character I love, but it’s not my fault. If anyone’s, it’s MatPats, but I don’t think it’s useful to just blame someone else. That’s how the story ended up going, and that’s fine. This is Evil Xisuma we’re talking about, their inconsistent lore is what made them such an interesting character. And notably, Pooka made an animation with an awesome culmination of Jeff, the Dreamer, Evil Xisuma, and his own sona’s story, and it makes me so happy to watch. Whatever Pooka does is of course his own choice, but I’m glad he got to give this personal story his own ending (if it is an ending, and not just the start of a new chapter!).
Typing this all out and getting it off my chest has made me feel a lot better. For a while I wanted to make my OWN video essay about Evil Xisuma’s lore and CarnEvil’s lore, actually going episode by episode to explain it instead of just assuming you knew as much about Evil Xisuma as I did. That idea is still not off the table, but MCYT isn’t something I’m that into right now. Maybe if something else comes out about Evil Xisuma I’ll get back on it, but for now I’m fine with letting that go. But I want to make other videos, share other theories and analysis… if I have the freetime I’d love to make YouTube videos, and if I don’t have the time I’ll continue posting to my tumblr and infodumping to my friends. Apparently my infodumping is valuable enough “content” to steal! Writing this out has made me feel a lot better though, I’m really glad I got it out.
If anyone ever wants to talk to me about the things I’m obsessed with, or reach out to me as a source in a bigger discussion about Game Theory or other channels, my inbox is more than welcome :] Thank you for reading!
Sincerely, a tumblr user.
#exiavojtmmc#hermitcraft#matpat#gt#game theory#hc#mcyt#evil xisuma#hbomberguy#plagiarism#james somerton#jeff the minion#mine#micer2012#hcs9
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The thing with news sources and deciding what's trustworthy and what's not is that when you see criticism of Aljazeera (which to be clear is not a great news source about anything other than Palestine) is that they completely neglect to mention that each regional section of Al-Jazeera has different people in charge of it, different contributors, different sources.
By all means, analyze your sources and understand what information you're getting but to say outright that ALL of what AlJazeera reports EVER is wrong is inherently meant to discredit Palestinian journalists in a way that no other journalist who is not Palestinian and NOT directly experiencing the war in Gaza has been discredited. Surprisingly (not really but), a lot of Palestinians in Gaza are employed by AlJazeera because it's difficult for them to find employment elsewhere.
And again, I do not love AlJazeera. I think they do plenty of faulty journalism and reporting and I actively avoid them for most news sources. But RIGHT NOW with everything going on in Gaza, they're probably one of the most trustworthy ones because of their first hand accounts and willingness to publish Palestinian voices, which many, MANY news stations refuse to do. I especially encourage the Arabic version of AlJazeera!
Like Haartz has like... 4 Palestinians on their editorial team max, and they have EVEN LESS people on the ground in Gaza whereas we have dozens of reporters from Gaza on Al-Jazeera, many of which have died. The way to fact check your news is you find how many times they link factual evidence (like videos of experiences, primary accounts, primary quotes) and compare it with circumstance of publishing.
Here are some ways to fact check and questions to ask, even when looking at Al Jazeera:
Is this a first hand account? If not, does it name a person who experienced this first hand?
If they cite/name a person who experienced it first hand, are they a trustworthy person? What are their ties to the situation? Why would they report this, have they reported situations like this in the past?
What would the person reporting gain from reporting this? A Palestinian with an Instagram post about their life in Gaza has much less to gain than an Israeli soldier publishing their experience in Gaza, for example.
In the first hand account, are there actions or evidence that is corroborated? IE: There was a video of an Israeli soldier abducting a blonde Palestinian, and there was a Human Rights Org that reported child abductions from evidence gather by an on the ground reporter. There is less of a chance that this is false, therefore.
If you don't see other news sources reporting this (ie, you don't see CNN/NYT/BBC/Fox/any other western-led media outlet) then ask: Why would they not report it? Does that mean it's false? Maybe not. Many Euro-american sources spend MONTHS before they talk about an issue (think: Washington post article "questioning" the evidence of Hamas in Al-Shifaa hospital more than a month after the raid happened)
Defining "Trustworthy":
What is their history on reporting events? Are they someone who is well known in whatever community they represent?
Think: Ghassan Abu-Sitta, a world renowned doctor. When he reports something with his name attached, he is putting his entire reputation on the line. Therefore, it is more likely he is telling the truth.
Are they someone who has any real, structural power over the situation? Maha Hussaini, for example, cannot change her circumstances because a ceasefire relies on other people separate from her, a journalist. Therefore, she has less of a reason to lie about things happening to her.
For the news source: what are their ties to the situation? CNN, for example, has stated they have their content reviewed by the IDF. Wael Al-Dahdouh, before he was evacuated, was providing first hand accounts of situation, meaning its difficult for him to fake anything or misrepresent.
What else has this person/news source reported? What are their political leanings — not just left/right, but what are their general stances on a variety of issues?
How many people who are part of the community impacted are part of reporting on this (IE: How many Palestinian POVs are shared, how many Israeli POVs are shared, what are the POVs of the people shared in general?).
Can someone I personally trust vouch for this person? If not, can I ask someone I trust to look over this person/agency and tell me their opinion?
There's for sure more I'm forgetting but these are some ways I personally check my facts and information as a quick rundown. And I see this issue of not knowing how to fact check happen ALL OVER the place, on both sides. So I really, highly encourage everyone to engage with sources more honestly!
You'll make mistakes, everyone does! I do as well! But try to be vigilant about these things so we can ensure that we're spreading accurate information and try to correct information when possible! There's no 100% unbiased source so I encourage you to compare/contrast information and your understandings of the world to fully comprehend the situation!
Please use these questions when checking ANY news source, even Al-Jazeera!
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The thing about romance is, it makes a good story.
As soon as Neil described season 2 as "quiet, gentle, romantic" I figured we'd be in for it, because as he's the first to point out, writers are liars. And the best way to deceive is with truth.
Season 2 is romantic. The trappings of romance are everywhere. Crowley tries to set up Nina and Maggie by trapping them under an awning during a rainstorm, a classic cinematic bonding technique. Aziraphale's chosen method comes from his beloved books: the ball, the dancing, appearing as a pair in public, hands held as you twirl gracefully with your heart thrilled and racing. If they can set up a sensational kiss that will unlock the happy ever after. They've lived on earth, they've studied the tropes, they know how romance works.
The problem is a story is only a story.
Nina and Maggie had the classic romantic setup completely by accident before Aziraphale and Crowley ever began trying to interfere with them. They get locked in Nina's coffeeshop. They can't escape or communicate with anyone else, they end up talking by candlelight because there's no electricity, Nina offers wine. Maggie mentions how she'd hoped for a chance to talk to Nina, and now here they are. It's every bit as much a standard as what Aziraphale and Crowley attempt to arrange. Blanket scenarios galore exist because of that starting point. We love that story. And there's nothing wrong with that.
But it's still only a story, it's not enough. Because once that moment of connection is over, however lovely it was, all the rest of the world comes flooding back in in the form of dozens of angry text messages. Nina's messy entrapping relationship hasn't magically gone away just because she and Maggie shared a romantic encounter.
And it's so tempting think oh well, that's easy. We'll just give them more romantic encounters and eventually those will overwhelm the rest of the baggage. Must do, because it'll make them fall in love, and once they realize they're in love that trumps all other considerations, right? So it'll be fine. Love Conquers All.
Neil also mentioned Pride and Prejudice.
Darcy knows he's in love early on and makes a disasterous proposal that shows that he has no understanding of Elizabeth's perspective, possibly hasn't even thought about it. They've been meeting in forest lanes for walks, conversing, had tete-a-tetes in the sitting room, danced at a ball. And while his turn of phrase isn't as flattering as he thinks, he's still offering her everything he thinks she wants and needs: affection, security, his good name, wealth, an escape from the embarrassments of her situation, the world. How can there be anything to object to? Why would anyone ever refuse so much of value?
Elizabeth quite rightly cuts him to pieces. He lashes back with a few hard truths of his own and they separate. During that separation, he thinks and he learns. He takes to heart the criticisms she offered, re-examines his assumptions, opens his eyes. Thinks about her perspective and how sometimes the only difference between pride and arrogance is where you're standing. He does the work. When they meet again he tries to demonstrate that he's learned--not in order to court her again (yet), but because the only real apology he can offer, the only one that would have weight, is to show that he's grown, he listened to her. He changed.
Elizabeth of course has her own journey, accepting that many of her own conclusions about Darcy were erroneous because they were formed without her having the full picture to hand, and once she's done that she has to apply it to her own situation as well. She loves her family, but they do place her at a disadvantage on a number of levels, leading eventually to full-out disaster as her younger sister carelessly ruins all of their reputations. It's hard to admit, it's mortifying, but Darcy was offering her a great deal she needs. His offer did have worth for all that she dismissed it as an insult. And as she learns to value his own character more highly, and then as she sees that he did listen to her even though she insulted him so thoroughly...well, she grows too. And when they do eventually come together it's not because of courting and balls. There's a big romantic gesture in his rescue of her sister but even that isn't why they'll get their happy ever after. It was just the catalyst for the conversation. They win because they've learned how to understand each other and how to communicate for the future. How they can strengthen and support each other, how to balance their strengths and weaknesses. The films leave them at the wedding, but the book shows a bit of their marriage too, and during it they keep learning from each other. Their relationship is held up as a superior love story for good reasons.
The end of season one was romantic too. Crowley stopped time rather than face a world where Aziraphale would never speak to him again, Aziraphale walked into hell to protect Crowley, they dined at the Ritz and toasted the world. But then they stopped. Sure they spent time together, talked, enjoyed each other's company. But if they were talking about important things would Crowley still be living in his car? They had a bit of respite but all that real world baggage that exists outside of the romantic moment hasn't been faced, none of it. Four or five years sounds like a long while but for beings who are quite literally older than the earth? That's just an intermission.
Nina's relationship ends, leaving her with a tangled mess; Maggie realises the sweet dream of love she's been longing for isn't as important as the real Nina. They talk. They plan. Nina will sort through her life, get closure, figure out what went wrong with Lindsay and what she wants from a relationship, learn how to ask for respect instead of just bending under her partner's demands. Maggie will support Nina the way Nina needs, which sometimes means helping her get oat milk for the shop and sometimes means giving her processing space. They're on the same page; they're going to do the work. That's why most likely they'll succeed. To quote one of my favourite fanfics: it's not happily ever after, but it's a chance. It's all going to be okay. (The Profane Comedy by Mussimm, who absolutely nailed this theme)
The romance is nice, it's lovely. We need it to keep ourselves going. To give ourselves the dreams that help us get through the days and nights. But it's not the relationship. It's not enough on its own. The wedding can be the grandest most beautiful ceremony ever with doves flying and sweeping music and bells ringing, but that doesn't guarantee the marriage will last.
Crowley and Aziraphale have had their romantic gestures, oodles of them. One wing raised to protect the other from falling stars, another from rain. Shared ground, shared interests, hands offered in friendship and held on a bus. They've tried to get to the same page, they really have. They just aren't there yet. The biggest most important things still haven't been talked about, and season 2 showed there are even more of those big important things than we'd realised.
The show paints Maggie as Aziraphale's foil and Nina as Crowley's, even to the point of Nina casually calling Maggie 'angel'. But Aziraphale's baggage is Nina's. The toxic relationship has to be processed and understood and closed, and it hasn't been, despite season one. Lindsay never really liked Nina very much, for all that they tried to keep her trapped; Heaven never really liked Aziraphale very much for all that he believed in it. They both let themselves be used. But Lindsay left Nina and went to their sister's, whereas now the head of Heaven has reached out to Aziraphale and said here, we can fix this, you can fix this, don't you want to fix this? Others are already writing about that and maybe I'll add to it later, not sure. And Crowley, like Maggie, has had a sweet dream that he has to set aside. Maybe he'll be able to pick it up again eventually, maybe not. But sometimes you offer support by buying oat milk or rescuing your beloved from the legions of hell, and sometimes you do it by standing back while they sort through their shit.
Quiet, gentle, romantic. It was.
But that's only part of the story. Now they have to do the work. They thought they had, but they were wrong, because there's so much they just hadn't touched yet and tried to cover over with relief and sleight of hand and alcohol and forgiveness. The apology dance doesn't mean much without showing that you listened and learned. They've faced so much trauma already and that should have been enough, we wanted it to be enough and so did they and it's such a blow for it to turn out that there's still more to do, that the baggage hasn't just gone away and can't be hidden under blankets or soothed with cocoa. The texts are still coming in and demanding answers.
But it'll be okay. It will. It's still a chance. And one that in the long run makes them better, builds something real that lasts.
The best stories, the ones that last longest and become classics, are the ones that don't end with the kiss under the awning or the blanket scenario or the wedding. They're the ones that heal us while the characters heal themselves. It's hard to accept that there's still more to do. Harder to imagine how it can possibly work out. And yes, bloody frustrating to wait and see.
And we'll get through that interim by telling even more stories. Because the story is never just a story. It's how we get through the work, it's what we tell ourselves so we can do the damn work. Stories are what we cling to and how we remind ourselves we're human and connect. A book is a person you can carry with you. We're not alone, none of us, stories connect us because we love them and see ourselves in them, which means we see each other.
Aziraphale's back up in Heaven to deal with his unfinished baggage; Crowley left his behind long ago and it's clearly going to come back and bite him in the arse however much he tries to go his own way. And they can't help each other with that. Not yet.
But they'll get there. So will we.
#good omens#good omens season 2#gos2 spoilers#good omens season 2 spoilers#crowley#aziraphale#ineffable husbands#nina#maggie#nina and maggie#stories#romance#relationships#am I projecting here#of course I am isn't that the whole point?#pride and prejudice#elizabeth and darcy#quiet gentle romantic#good omens meta
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Animal Farm: Mondays
Male Yandere Harpies x Gender Neutral Reader
(CW: Noncon, harpies, general yandere behavior, captive reader, spit roasting, cum in hair, aftercare, male harem, brief mention of being used as a cock sleeve by bull men.)
Word Count: 500
(Here it is! I have had a solid wave of productivity lately answering old asks and now there is this, something I said I would do a long time ago. I said I would make a mini-fic/drabble with every group of monster men from my animal farm fic which can be found HERE.)
You sighed. It was early on Monday morning, the sun starting to stream into the window enough to disturb your sleep. You glared at your alarm clock and preemptively turned off the alarm that would go off at 10:00.
It was 9:53.
You wanted to cry. You had not fully recovered from Rory, Sev, and Bruc swapping you between them as a communal cock sleeve all day on Friday.
You lamented your decision to be a monster man farmer with so many different species. You should have stuck to one or two.
Oh well… no use crying over it now. At least you started the week off easy after your weekend break.
The harpy men had pretty forgiving cocks.
Ugh. Was that what it had come to? Judging how not awful your day was by the brutality of the cocks you were about to encounter?
You scarfed down a quick breakfast then enjoyed your last few minutes before you were swarmed by the three harpies that called your farm home, Zan, Xilra, and Elry.
They all looked similar, green and blue feathers in their hair, emerald green eyes to match, dark skin, with large angel-like wings sprouting from their backs and their legs ended in the way any bird of prey’s did. Sharp. Talons.
When you stepped into the aviary your watch read exactly 10:30, you weren’t giving them a second more than you were forced to. It was like your one shred of resistance, even though it didn’t really matter very much. You also were too scared to be late after what happened the one time you were.
You were sniffed out and fucked. Swiftly.
As soon as you stepped into the large greenhouse-like domed building, it was like a miniature forest complete with all sorts of trees and plants, you were instantly pounced upon by the three monster men.
They wasted not a single second in taking off your clothes and tossing them aside on the dirt while pinning you to the wall.
“Hey come on! Those were just cleeeEEEEAAAAAANNNED. H-hey!”
Two of them were biting, licking and nuzzling all over your neck while the third was using his mouth between your legs.
“W-w-why do we always have to start the d-daaaay like thiiiiis??”
“We love you little starling~”
“Yes! And we must show you!”
“We haven’t been inside you for a whole week love! It was torture~”
“We must make up for the lost time sweet bird.”
And that they certainly did. A week's worth of the pent up libidos of three tall harpy men unloaded on you and in you within hours.
They spit roast you while you were on the ground before taking you in mid air.
By the end of their breeding session with you you were exhausted. And this was supposed to be the easy day.
At least they let you rest afterwards, washing the cum out of your hair and off your sore body before cuddling you and petting you while they sang sweet little bird songs and praised their darling little starling~
#yandere teratophilia#yandere terato#yandere x reader#monster boyfriend#yandere monster#gender neutral reader#male yandere x gn reader#my ocs#My OC Elry#My OC Xilra#My OC Zan#Yandere farm#yandere harem#monster farm harem#yandere harpies#yandere harpy#yandere monster farm harem
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HEYYYY! So like every other mf on the planet right now I am in my hunger games era!!
Please could you write a Finnick x Reader where she is selected for the quarter quell (Maybe in her games she was lethal and killed like 10+ people?)
And when Katniss shoots the arena in catching fire she gets taken by the capitol (Like Peeta) and they torture her and shit? Then Finnick and her get there reunion she’s all like battered and bruided and it’s dead sad? Not sure if this made sense because i’m half asleep and dyselxic but let me know😭🤣
Maybe he says “It’s okay baby i got you” ??? x
hey of course i can! i hope u enjoy it babe <3 its a tiny bit long! my apologizes
cw's: angst, mentions of killing/dying, typical thg stuff, torture, ptsd, lmk if i missed anything
You were one of the youngest victors alongside Finnick, being only 15 and having won your games. You were also from District 4. You won the 68th Hunger Games, a few years after Finnick.
When you were reaped, Finnick and Mags were your mentors. Finnick came off as self absorbed and arrogant but once you started talking to him, the more you realized that was total bullshit. He wasn't how the Capitol portrayed him, he was much more caring and compassionate. He was very sympathetic to your situation, having gone through the same things.
During your time in the arena, you were one of the most ruthless tributes of all time. In the beginning, you were easily overlooked. The tributes weren't thinking that you were going to be much of a challenge because of your size and the way you carried yourself.
But that was exactly how you wanted to be portrayed. You tricked the Careers into thinking you were some naïve little girl, stabbing them in the back (literally) the first chance you got. The Capitol loved the turn of events, cheering you on.
When you had come back home, you had finally understood the intensity of what you had done. You had killed a whole group of people, ending their lives permanently. Those people had lives and family who loved them, and now they're gone because of you.
You suffered through months and months from never ending nightmares. Even getting consoled by your mother didn't help anymore; she doesn't understand. You didn't even feel worthy of food anymore.
You closed off Mags and Finnick when you had come home, driving yourself into isolation and depression. You rarely went out anymore, eating one meal a day and slept more than 80% of the day. Even sleeping couldn't mend the eternal tiredness you had, the void that filled your body.
Finnick had felt more than responsible for your pain. He gave you time before he realized he was just adding to your pain. Even when you didn't communicate back to him, Finnick visited you every day. He gave you advice and told you what he had went through after the Games as well. Eventually you opened up more to Finnick, and slowly, he had become your best friend.
He had told you that numbing it wasn't going to make it go away. He reminded you that you had him and Mags to help you with this process, and that you weren't alone despite of how you felt.
He helped you regain your sense of purpose again, your self image again. Finnick had singlehandedly helped you rebuilt your sense of self again.
He saw a part of you in him, that scared 14 year old boy who was trying to go back home to his parents. He never wanted anyone to feel that, especially you.
He promised you that he would never let anything bad ever happen to you again.
During your Victor's tour, Snow had suddenly deemed you desirable by the Capitol, wanting to sell you as he did with Finnick. Finnick couldn't risk getting involved, wanting to protect his family.
Every night in the Capitol, you were always consoled by Finnick. Every time you had to do a favor, you remember walking to Finnick's room to sleep, not baring the thought of having to sleep alone in the cold bed. He was always there, holding your hand comfortingly as you both slept.
The Capitol adored you both, nicknaming you the princess and prince of Panem. The more time you spent with Finnick, the more the media had speculated a relationship between the young victors.
You and Finnick had connected in many ways. Both having the same trauma, it was easy to talk to him and for him to understand how hard it was.
You and Finnick eventually got together a few years later, then getting married (in secret, of course) almost right after. You were both deeply in love.
Finnick found solace in the thought of always having you by his side, remembering that no one could tear you apart. That was until the Quarter Quell was announced.
You and Finnick were sitting at the edge of the couch, listening to Caesar's words carefully as he explained that this year's Hunger Games was going to be very different.
When it was announced that there will be only be Victors in this year's games, you heard dropped. You looked over at Finnick and he shared the same terrified look on his face.
--
When Annie's name had been called, you without any second thought, put up your hand. "I volunteer as tribute."
The crowd gasped and you looked over at Annie and you could tell she was a bit relived but still scared nonetheless. You immediately embraced her tightly, letting her let out a small sob. "It's okay, you're okay."
Mags looked just as terrified and you took her hand. When Finnick's name was called, you felt your stomach drop. Not only were you back in the arena, but you were with Finnick.
You looked over at Finnick and he looked prepared to fight. You both stood up and he grabbed your hand, raising it up in union.
The trainride to the Capitol was pretty uneventful. Finnick had wanted some time to think about the plan and so did you. A part of you knew what he was planning; he kill everyone else in the arena and then eventually himself, all for you.
As you sat on the bed, you felt the sadness and anger turn into numbness. No amount of crying was going to stop the Quater Quell and you had to be smart.
You didn't want to survive without Finnick. You were either winning with him or dying with him. Life would be meaningless without him.
Finnick knocked on your door slightly, before walking in. You looked up at him and he gave you a small smile. He took a seat next to and took your hand.
"I have a plan."
"Finnick, I know what you're thinking, and no. You're not killing yourself for me."
Finnick looked defeated. "One of us has to survive, Y/N. For Annie. For Mags."
You look a deep inhale, looking away from Finnick. "I don't want to life without you, everything would lose all it's meaning without you."
Finnick felt his heart burst into two pieces as he squeezed your hand. You felt your eyes watering again and you couldn't help but let out another quiet cry as Finnick pulled your head in, as he embraced you tightly.
"Shh, it's okay. I promise, I won't... I won't leave you."
--
It had all happened so fast, you couldn't even comprehend what had just happened. One moment, you were with Finnick trying to find Johanna and Katniss and suddenly there was big loud boom. You were relieved for a moment; Plutarch's plan had worked. Until you realized how far away you were from the others.
You were wandering, trying to find anyone until you heard people behind you. You turned and then you saw some unfamiliar faces; suddenly, your vision went black.
Then, you woke up in a white room. You felt like your stomach had dropped out of your body once the realization hit you; the Capitol captured you.
You were strapped down to a bed and you couldn't move or shake it off. The severity of the situation had hit you; even if by some miracle you did escape, where would you go? How would you find your way to 13 and back to Finnick?
You knew how ruthless the Capitol was to everyone who disobeyed them. Your worst fears had come true and there was no getting out of here.
You heard the door open and you saw some Peacekeepers come in and then you saw the person you dreaded to see most; Snow. You felt like your whole had come crashing down, how could this nightmare become any worse?
"Hello, Y/N."
You didn't respond, resorting to stare at the wall in front of you instead.
He tutted disappointedly. "Out of all the tributes, you were the one I expected least to be involved in this mess. You are the Princess of Panem... What a shame."
You still hadn't replied and you hadn't dared to look at Snow. Months and months you spent trying to heal the trauma he had caused you, you were sure if you had to look at him now, you would break.
"I want to take mercy on you, dear Y/N. If you tell me everything you know about the rebellion, I will make sure the Peacekeepers are gentle with you."
You shook your head. "No."
He let out a small chuckle. "Sorry, I couldn't hear you. What?"
"No." You said again, louder.
He hummed in disapproval. "Okay then, you leave me no choice. You are going to regret this."
He nodded to the Peacekeepers and walked out of the room. You were then met with Peacekeepers, loosening the straps then taking you to another room.
If Snow knew one thing about you, it was that being only physical with you wouldn't hurt you enough. He had to hit you were it hurt most.
They threw you in the seemingly vacant room and immediately locking it. You were confused until you heard it.
"Y/N, help me!" Finnick's voice screamed. "Please, help me! Get up and do something, they're killing me! Please."
You looked everywhere in the dark room, trying to find the source. It kept going.
"Y/N, please! Help! What the hell are you doing, just sitting there? You are such a disappointment!" The voice started shouting. "We should've just left you to died in the arena! You are useless!"
Now this was something new. Your body was filled with panic and fear and even though you knew it was fake, you felt like you were going to throw up from all the noise.
Suddenly, Annie's voice came in as well. Then Johanna's. Then your mother's. There was nonstop noise filled with screams for help, shouting with disapproving messages. Your body couldn't handle it; it was so overwhelmed with fear that you started shaking on the ground, putting your hands on your ears but that did little to nothing.
You wanted it to stop. It was too much, you were trembling. It felt like days, just sitting there in that room listening to all those demeaning voices of your loved ones. You couldn't even think straight anymore.
It was so bad you had started to pound your head on the ground, screaming and crying. You had have enough. And then, it all stopped. Silence was foreign for you; your ears were ringing.
You were sitting on the ground, almost lifeless as the Peacekeepers took you away. Your eyes hurt from the tears, your body sore, your ears ringing and your head was pounding.
But you knew that was just the beginning.
--
You were asleep in bed and you were awakened by the door opening, you instantly jolted up. You looked over to see a group of masked men in front of you and you had started to tremble again, silent tears rolling down your face, thinking that the Peacekeepers had come again.
"No, no, no." You started to mumble to yourself.
A man came up to your and took your bruised hand slowly, rubbing it gently in silent empathy. That was the first soft touch you'd felt in a few weeks and it almost stung.
"It's okay, you're safe now. You're going to 13 now."
You had to blink a couple times, trying to process what he said. Was this a dream? You went to pinch yourself but it was real life.
He then helped you up but you couldn't help but stumble; your legs were weak, you couldn't remember the last time the Peacekeepers let you walk for this long.
As you got into the hovercraft, you saw Annie. Your eyes widened as you both ran up to each other, embracing each other. She had started to cry a little bit and so did you.
That was when it hit you. You were going to see Finnick. You were going home. You started crying into Annie's shoulder as she held you. "We're safe now, we're safe."
You had seen Johanna as well but she didn't seem too responsive. Neither did Peeta. You fell asleep on Annie's shoulder on the ride back and for the first time, you actually felt yourself drifting off calmly.
--
There were lots of doctors and nurses looking at you and asking you all sorts of questions and you tried your best to answer them. You were still in shock; you were safe. They couldn't hurt you anymore.
"Y/N?" You turned around to see Finnick. You immediately got up from the examiner's table and ran into his arms, your eyes starting to water up again.
"Finnick," you sighed slowly. You pulled away, putting your hands on his face and touched him as if he wasn't real.
"Are you.. Are you really here?"
"Yes, I'm really here." Finnick looked at you and suddenly his voice transported you back into the dark room. You quickly twisted out of his embrace and his expression changed.
His voice was back and you heard all of the nasty things he had to you. You back away, stumbling into the examiner's table and your breathing became heavy. "No, no, no, please-please go away. No."
You slid down to the floor and you closed your eyes, putting your hands on your ears and rocking back and forth trying to get that voice to stop.
Finnick ran up to you and put his hands on your knees, trying to get you to look at him. His heart broke in half; he didn't know what the Capitol had done to you but now he knows it has something to do with him.
Of course the Capitol would try to ruin him. His eyes started to tear up at the sight of you, in so much pain and panic.
You opened your eyes, Finnick in front of you. You started to cry some more before Finnick slowly went up to you, wrapping his arms around you.
When he had started wrapping your arms around you, your instinct was to push him away but his warmth was welcoming and safe and you started to focus on his touch. The voices slowly drifted away, the sounds of your silent sobs only being heard.
You then gave into Finnick's touch, falling into him and putting your head in his chest as he caressed your back gently, shushing you.
"It's okay baby, I got you. You're safe now, they can't hurt you."
#finnick odair x you#finnick odair x reader#finnick odair#thg finnick x reader#thg finnick#finnick x reader#finnick x y/n#hunger games finnick#finnick odair angst#finnick odair smut#finnick odair fanfic#finnick odair x female reader#thg headcanons#thg johanna#thg fanfic#thg fanfiction#thg rp#thg peeta#thg: intro#thg katniss#thg x reader#katniss everdeen#peeta mellark#catching fire#mockingjay#katniss x peeta#the hunger games x reader#the hunger games fanfiction#the hunger games haymitch#the hunger games katniss
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Together with you | Azriel
(Lonely with you pt. 2)
summary: heart break sucks. Missing your friend sucks even more. It is mind-blowing what a little open communication can do.
words: 4.1k
warnings: angst with happy ending, terrible communication at parts (sorry), mention of alcohol consumption, fluff, just general misery, neutrally described reader/no reader description, no use of y/n, dumb idiots in love
notes: so this got a lot more angsty than first anticipated, but here it is! Not sure how I feel about it, I like some parts, not so sure about others - feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy!
part 1
Cold. Your bed was freezing cold. And empty.
Like lying on a frozen slab of stone, utterly alone and undeniably pathetic. Just as alone and pathetic as yesterday, when you woke up on the couch in the living room. No Azriel in sight. Like he wasn’t the one to practically beg you not to leave him alone, and then he went and did that exact thing to you.
It was humiliating. You were humiliated.
And that was why you had avoided him like he was contagious for all of yesterday, burying yourself in paperwork or hiding away in the library. But your plan was far from foolproof, you’d barely made it through yesterday without seeing him, so today had to be different. If being close to you was so shameful he had to sneak away before you had a chance to wake, you would simply remove yourself from the situation and spare yourself some Gods damned dignity.
You had already written to Mor, your excuse of needing to get away from the happily mated couple for a few nights only a half lie. You were in desperate need of a good night’s rest, however that was not the most pressing issue at hand. But there was no need for her to know that. Yet. She would find out eventually, she always did, and you would be stupid to expect otherwise.
Two hours past sunrise should mean that the Valkyrie training would be full and well underway, and thus it would be safe for you to make your escape. You got the things you’d need and made your way up the stairs to one of the smaller balconies overlooking the training ring. You knew you really shouldn’t, because what good would it do? But you had to. Just a quick glance. Quietly you moved towards the railing, scanning the people below.
There he was, a thing of graceful, terrifying beauty. He seemed to be demonstrating a movement with a training sword for some of the priestesses. He moved with such fluidity, wielding the sword in his hand as if it was an extension of himself. He was like death on swift feet. A fallen angel, a dark prince.
He was beautiful.
You must have accidentally made a sound, because his head shot up and his eyes zeroed in on you. Oh Gods. The intensity in his gaze, and the increasing pressure in your chest was too much. He didn’t want you.
You staggered back, one little step and you had winnowed yourself down to the city streets. This was good, you needed to get away. He left you alone. He drew back first. You knew all of this, so why did it hurt such an unreasonable amount?
You rubbed your chest in hopes of getting rid of the tightness that seemed to have moved in there since yesterday morning, and then you set course towards the one stop you had to make before getting to Mor’s.
-
It had been three days since you arrived at Mor’s apartment with a paper bag filled with the sweetest, sugar-powdered pastries your favourite bakery had to offer. It had taken you both approximately 20 minutes to devour them all, after which you no longer had anything to distract your friend from digging up the truth behind your visit.
You were in love with someone who did not harbour the same feelings towards you. And you desperately needed to get away from him, to save what remained of your heart.
You had cried, drank some wine, and then cried a little more. You went back to the bakery for more pastries the next day, and the cycle repeated.
The crisp, early-spring wind was a menace today as you were on your, now daily, pastry run. You were trying to stop your hair from whipping around like a being possessed, cursing up a storm, when you heard him call your name.
You froze to the spot, like his voice was some primal command. That insufferable tightness in your chest was as present as ever as you forced yourself to put on your brave face and turned towards him.
There he was, jogging towards you, his brow furrowed.
“Hey,” Azriel breathed as he came to a stop in front of you. His shadows swirled out in your direction, but retracted before they had a chance to reach you.
“Hi,” you mumbled back, suddenly finding the cobbled street very interesting.
He cleared his throat and took a step closer. You took one backwards. The cobblestone looks different here than in the alley by the bakery.
“I haven’t seen you in a while… you haven’t been home – at the House, I mean,” he coughed lightly. I wonder if it was made with, like, a different technique? Or maybe the stones are just differently shaped or something?
“Yeah, no, I’ve been staying with Mor for a bit.” It’s definitely mossier on the smaller streets, maybe that’s why? It just shifts the perspecti–
“Angel, please look at me.”
You didn’t want to, Gods you didn’t want to. But alas, you seemed to have no power when it came to Azriel.
Any other day, the worry swimming in those hazel eyes would have melted your heart. Today, it just hurt. “Did I do something? Is that why you… haven’t been around?”
You scoff, “No, you didn’t do anything, Azriel. It’s fine.”
“It’s obviously not fine! I haven’t seen you in days, and now you can barely look at me?” He exclaimed, exasperation clear in his voice. “Look, I’m sorry if I overstepped, or made you uncomfortable – but I miss my friend,” his hands twitched where they rested at his sides, shadows swirling around him with unease.
“Oh, please,” his brows furrowed further at the dry laugh that escaped you, “Are you being serious, Az? I fell asleep in your arms, after you pleaded with me to stay with you – and then I woke up alone.” His face fell. “How do you think that feels? I mean, you must know how I feel about you!” You cursed yourself for the way your voice quivered, and that damned burning feeling behind your eyes that you were so sick of.
“What– no, I didn’t– what do you–,” he stuttered. He actually stuttered. The spymaster of the Night court couldn’t even come up with an excuse for being an ass.
“Save it. I get it – you were lonely, we’ve all been there,” you muttered, wrapping your arms around yourself, “I have to go.”
You turned back in the direction of Mor’s apartment, pastries be damned. You just had to get away.
Azriel had other plans though. His fingers wrapped around your wrist, the cool wisps of shadows snaking up your forearm. You couldn’t help the way you recoiled from his touch, how it seemed to ignite every nerve in your arm.
“Wait–,”
“NO!” A sob wracked your body. “No, just leave me alone, Az. Can’t you tell that you’re hurting me?” His face twisted in time with your words, and tears pricked your eyes. “Being around you hurts!”
His shadows were whipping violently around him, but he was as still as death itself. Something like dread and confusion were clouding his eyes.
He called after you as you walked away. But he didn’t stop you, nor did he try to follow you. And you didn’t dare look over your shoulder, too scared you might run back and give him the rest of your heart, shattered as it may be. No, instead you carried the shards in your hands, tears rolling down your cheeks, one after the other.
You weren’t sure how you were ever going to be okay.
-
The bedroom door creaked open, and you pulled the duvet further over your head.
“Hey sleepyhead,” Mor said in a sing-song voice. You weren’t sleeping.
“I’m not asleep,” you muttered, huffing loudly at the giggle that escaped her.
“Yeah, well, calling you a crybaby would be insensitive so I went for the next best thing.”
Her comment made the corners of your lips twitch, and you silently cursed her for always knowing how to cheer you up. You had gotten quite comfortable in your misery.
You pulled the covers down and looked over at where she stood. Your chest grew uncomfortably tight when you saw what was in her hands.
“Another one?” You asked and rolled over to face the window. You had forgotten how stubborn he was. Competitive bastard.
“Yes, and they just seem to get bigger and bigger. I like the daffodils in this one though, very spring-esque. The other ones didn’t have any daffodils,” she mused as she walked in and headed towards the far end of the room, most likely towards the dresser. It was the only surface area not currently taken up by a bouquet.
This was the sixth bouquet he’d sent. In three days. He had turned Mor’s guest room into a damn flower shop. Just being in a ten feet proximity of this room would have sent Cassian into a sneezing frenzy.
“Remember that time in Elain’s garden, when you told me daffodils were your mom’s favourite flower? That she called you her little daffodil when she carried you in her womb? They are very beautiful – just like you.
“Yours, Azriel.” Mor read the note before carefully putting it back with the flowers.
Every set of flowers had come with its own handwritten note. He had apologised in the first one, the rest told you he missed you, recalling memories of moments you’d shared. Each one ended with a heartfelt compliment, one that brought tears to your eyes every time, without fail.
Mor let out a slight sigh. “I am fully on your side here, and I don’t want to pressure you into anything, but… are you sure you don’t want to talk to him? I know you’re hurt, and you have every right to be, but… he’s a good male and he likes you – a lot.”
She’s right. You figured that out two days ago. But your pride was wounded, and your trust had been betrayed, and it stung.
However, somewhere along when the initial pain had started to diminish it had slowly but surely gotten replaced by the agony of missing him. Now you didn’t know what part of the pain came from what, you only knew that it hurt.
But Gods, you really did miss him – more and more by the minute. You missed him in your bones; your best friend, your partner in crime, the male you loved.
“Alright, you don’t have to say anything. I have to visit Rhysand to go over some work though, and I won’t be home until late tonight, probably. There is food and tea in the kitchen, or you can go down to the pub downstairs and ask them to make you something. Just… make sure to go there earlier in the evening to avoid drunken idiots, okay?” You rolled over to look at your friend, who once again proved herself to be way better than you deserved. You nodded.
“Thank you,” you whispered and her lips curved upwards in a soft smile.
“Of course, take care of yourself,” she said, that warm smile still intact as she made her way out of the room, closing the door behind her.
After dragging out your stay in bed a few more minutes, the thought of a warm cup of tea became too enticing to ignore. Chucking on a thick sweater you dragged your feet out of the bedroom.
Once in the kitchen, you put the kettle on the stove and went in search of some tea. Where was the one Mor made you yesterday? The one that felt like drinking a warm, spiced hug – you needed that one right now. You found it in one of the cupboards just in time for the water to start boiling. So you made your cup of tea, drizzled in a little bit of honey, and walked out to the living room. You had just put your tea down and made your way over to the wall of bookshelves to pick out a new story to escape into when there was a knock on the door.
The way your entire body froze, yet seemed to come alive at the same time, signalled you knew who it was. How your body and soul could possibly know it was Azriel on the other side of that door, you weren’t sure. But alas, as you crossed the living room towards the entryway and tugged the front door open, there he was.
He looked tired. His eyes seemed uncharacteristically old, his skin dull and the bags under his eyes were undeniable. Despite this he still managed to look as breath-taking as always.
Those tired eyes met yours, and you swore you felt time stop. He was here. Your Azriel.
Except he wasn’t yours, was he? A truth that only stung worse when your name fell from his lips. But seeing him here, like this… you could live with never having him, you thought. As long as he was in your life, if only as a friend.
That’s why you breathed out a “hi,”, and opened the door wider, a silent invitation to step inside. His shoulders sagged in relief as he stepped over the threshold.
“Hey,” Azriel whispered on a shaky breath, as you closed the door behind him. You stood in silence for a minute, neither of you apparently knowing what to say.
Azriel was the first to break the silence, “so, uh– did you get the…”. Bouquets is what he didn’t say, but he didn’t have to.
“Yeah, yeah I did,” you mumbled, never really meeting his eyes. “Pretty.”
“Yeah? Okay,” you could see him nodding out of the corner of your eye. “Good.”
You raised your gaze to meet his, and your heart clenched. You just wanted things back to the way they were, you wanted your friend back. Because standing here in front of him, not knowing what to say was awful. So you did the only thing you could think of…
“I miss you.” Your voice wavered more than you’d ever care to admit, but there it was – the truth.
Azriel’s shoulders visibly shuddered at your confession. “Oh, angel,” it was your time to shudder. “I’ve missed you too, so much. I’m so sorry,” his eyes glazed over as he continued, “but please believe me when I say that I did not know – about how you felt. And maybe that makes me stupid, and blind, and oblivious–”
“No,” you interrupted him, “you’re not any of those things, Az.” His deprecating words wounded you so deeply, a heavy sadness filling your chest.
“I should have known. I never would have– I wouldn’t have been such a coward if I knew.” You swore you heard the remnants of your heart crack.
“Azzy…” You stepped towards him and reached up to cradle his face in your hands. His own hands flew up to your wrist and you prepared for him to reject your touch.
Only he didn’t.
Instead he gently held your hands in place and leaned into your touch in a manner so tender your breath hitched in your throat. His thumbs swiped across the backs of your wrists.
“I’m sorry, I got all up in my head and I–,” you didn’t let him finish.
“It’s okay Azriel, I forgive you.” His posture straightened a little as you continued, “I’m sorry too.”
You felt a tear roll down your cheek, and before you could even register it happening, Azriel had pulled you into a hug. He wrapped an arm around your waist, his other hand coming up to cradle the back of your head as he held you against his chest. He was so warm, and comfortable, and safe, and one tear became two, became three. All the while, Azriel held you, wings enveloping you in a cocoon as he whispered sweet nothings into your hair.
After what felt like hours, but was merely just minutes, Azriel dropped his wings from around you and as you felt his arms ease their hold on you, you took half a step back. His hand that had cradled the back of your head now cupped your cheek, the other came to rest on your hip.
You dried your tears, ungracefully wiping snot from your nose, and you once again lifted your head in search of those hazel eyes you had grown so in love with. And as your gazes locked – that’s when you felt it.
Like the snap of a bowstring, dead center in the middle of your chest, that glowing, golden thread locked into place – forever connecting your soul with the male across from you.
The impact was so intense you staggered back, knocking into the end table behind you. Your hand flew up to your chest, fingers clutching the fabric of your sweater as you tried to make sense of what just happened.
Azriel is your mate.
Does he know? Does he even want you? A thousand thoughts swarmed your head, but they were all overpowered by one: mate. He was your mate.
Azriel stood, one arm still partially outstretched, eyes wide and brow furrowed. Something like bewilderment filled you to an overwhelming degree, and it took you a moment to realise that the feelings did not belong to you. They were all Azriel, unable to keep his emotions from bleeding across the bond to you.
“You’re my–,” you stuttered.
“Yes,” he breathed in response.
“I– I’m your–”
“Yes,”
“You knew?” His eyes shuttered at your question.
“Yes,”
You had to sit down.
You wobbled over to the couch and dropped down. You didn’t even realise he’d followed you until you felt the seat dip beside you.
He seemed to realise words were not something currently in your possession, and took it upon himself to start to explain.
“You were sleeping, had been for probably an hour at least, but I couldn’t take my eyes off of you. I have–,” he swallowed and his whole body shook as he professed his next words. “I have been in love with you since the moment I saw you. When Rhysand introduced you to everyone and you were trying to sneak glances at all of us, thinking you were being discreet. You weren’t – quite the opposite actually.” You turned your head to look at him. One of those rare smiles decorated his face as he recalled the memory. “I think everyone noticed, but no one said anything. They were all probably as smitten by you as I was. Not only were you so adorable, you were the most divine female I had ever seen. Your eyes shone so brightly, and you radiated such calmness, such security – like every problem that had ever been wasn’t so bad after all. Like everything was always going to be fine, as long as you were around. You looked heavenly. Like an angel.” He whispered the last part and as his eyes met yours you sucked in a breath at the emotion swimming in them.
Angel. His dedicated pet name for you. What he had been calling you, and only you, since that very first day. Not only were you the only person with that specific pet name – you were the only one of Azriel’s friend to even have a pet name, you realised. Sure, he referred to Rhysand and Cassian as his brothers. But you were his angel.
“You love me?” You croaked, fresh tears filling your eyes.
“Yes, I do.” You hiccupped, face twisting as your chest filled to the brim with so many emotions you could not possibly name them all. He took your hands in his, and gave them a light squeeze as he continued, “When we were on that couch I was just… watching you. Holding you. Realising how perfectly you fit in my arms, when you moved. You snuggled deeper into my chest, like being close to me was an instinctual need, and then you sighed, and you smiled in your sleep – and I couldn’t breathe,” he took a deep breath, “that’s when the bond snapped.” You wanted to reach out and smooth out that crease between his eyebrows. Instead you just moved closer to him, pressed yourself into his side, and when he looked down at you, you gave it your best at pushing some of that endless love you held for him down that glittering bond.
A sharp exhale left his parted lips and he gave your still entwined hands another squeeze. When he looked at you his cheeks were tinged with pink, the tips of his ears flushed.
He loved you.
He was your mate and he loved you.
“I was so shocked. Why would it snap now and not earlier?” He shook his head, his eyes not once leaving yours. “Then I started to… doubt myself,” his brows furrowed deeper, “what if you didn’t want me? I didn’t even know if you knew. Knew and… and decided you didn’t want to be with me. The Gods know I don’t deserve you.”
You couldn’t help the broken whimper that escaped you as you listened to this wonderful male voice how lowly he thought of himself.
“Don’t say that Azriel,” you croaked, your voice thick from crying. “I love you so much. I look at you and my heart fills to a point where I genuinely think it might burst,” you coughed out an attempt at a laugh. “You are a good male, and I could not imagine a greater honour than the Mother choosing you as my mate.”
A single tear rolled down Azriel’s cheek at your confession. You untangled your hands from his, instead crawling into his lap. This wonderful male, and he was all yours. The love that filled your chest felt so secure, so safe. Like the warmth of the morning sun. Like the smell of freshly baked bread, and early morning bird song. It felt like the beginning of something great.
You raked your hands through his hair, and as you leaned in to kiss that lone tear away from his jaw, you watched his eyes shutter closed.
“I love you,” you whispered against his lips, your forehead coming to rest against his, “my mate.”
His hands found your hips and gripped them tightly, and the touch was more than welcomed. If it was up to you to decide, he would never let you go – forever in each other’s embrace.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered once more, breath hot against your lips. “I shouldn’t have–… please don’t leave me again.”
“Never,” you promised, and then, like waves crashing ashore, you leaned in that last bit and pressed your lips to his.
His entire body shook beneath you as he reciprocated the kiss, moulding his lips to yours and you couldn’t help but notice how incredibly right it felt. Like coming home. And as your lips moved together that glowing thread became a wild, real, physical thing between you. His hands gripped you tighter, like you were his lifeline. Pulling you impossibly closer, as if you were the air he needed to breathe. His tongue swiped over your bottom lip and your lips parted, letting your tongues meet in the most delicious of ways.
The kiss was claiming, overpowering and you could not help the whine that escaped you as his fingers dug into your sides. A primal growl rattled deep in his throat, alighting every nerve in your body.
This.
You wanted to stay right here, just like this, forever.
-
You didn’t know how long you actually did stay like that – the two of you seemed to, again, be able to defy the concept of time together. But you were now laying on the couch, Azriel’s heart drumming a steady beat in your ear, a warm, overwhelming comfort overtaking your body.
Slowly, you started to feel yourself drifting off to sleep, and with your head on his chest, his arms around you, the opening and closing of the front door and Mor’s voice that followed, felt so very far away. You almost didn’t apprehend what she said as her voice moved in closer.
“You better not leave her this time,” she ordered, and the rumble of Azriel’s voice, how very safe it made you feel, lulled you deeper and deeper into unconsciousness.
Your body was impossibly heavy, the words he mumbled into your hair the last thing you registered before sleep claimed you.
“I won't,” he pressed a kiss to your head, “never again.”
tags: @hnyclover @justdreamstars @historygeekqueen @sharknutz @icey--stars @mel-wcst @alysena2 @lewsnumerounofan
#acotar#azriel x reader#azriel x you#azriel angst#azriel fluff#azriel acotar#azriel shadowsinger#a court of thorns and roses#azriel fanfic#azriel imagine#lonely with you
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You speak another language
Pairing: Ot8!skz × Gn!Reader
Genre: fluff, reaction
Warnings: mention of food at Lee Know and Felix's, I think that's it?
Request: how do you think ot8 would react to the reader speaking in their native language? Especially if it's not korean/english?
A/n: It's embarrassing the amount of time I took to write this one💀 the worst part is that I actually spent every week tryna find the best way of putting all my ideas together. Hope you like it anyways!
Bang Chan
Would have a pet name for you in your mother tongue
Like idk if you speak spanish his nickname for you would be "mi amor"
Finds it really attractive btw
When you're speaking your mother tongue he sees just how much comfortable you are
You literally shine in his eyes
He'd just be staring at you with heart eyes
And if you're learning Korean or English he'd be more than glad to help you overcome your difficulties with the language
Would be your personal professor fr
Speaks slower around you so you can understand everything, and wouldn't mind repeating himself at all
He knows that the language barrier can be a bit intimidating and that it can make you afraid of opening up completely
But he'd be so reassuring all the time
Really tries his best to comfort you when you need it and it doesn't matter the language, he makes is clear that he loves and will be with you all the time
Lee Know
If you had a hard time speaking Korean but still tried your best to communicate with him and his parents in Korean, he'd fall DEEP in love with you
He gives me major "I don't understand but I love you" vibes ngl
lmao he'd learn the bad words before anything else
If you're speaking your mother tongue when in the phone he'd try to guess what you're saying
Genuinely doesn't know what's going but he's invested
And he repeats some words after you say it
Not in a mocking way, he just finds it cool how the word sounds and keep repeating it to himself
Like if you speak french he'd be like "bonjour. Bonjour? Bonjour"
It's endearing
But yeah you'll have to translate everything to him later
He wants to know about the tea
Cooks your hometown dishes for you!!
Changbin
If you have a foreign accent when speaking Korean or English he finds it adorable
And he also finds your mother tongue adorable
It doesn't matter if you speak one of the sexiest languages in the world
This man finds it adorable
Eventually learns your language
He'll take classes, buy text books and everything
He truly believe that learning how to communicate with you (in every language for that matter) is like a "boyfriend duty"
So he'll be more than happy to learn
Tries to show his affection in ways that are not spoken as well so you both could surpass the language barrier
He'll get you flowers, gifts, would take you to amazing places, would have the best dates with you and everything you can ever think of
You'd have the best memories ever with him and no word would need to be said
Hyunjin
Would ask you to teach him some pet names and sweet phrases in your language
And would 100% say "I love you" in your mother tongue in certain moments
Like in more intimate moments that he wants you to truly understand how much he loves you
Would love if you replied with saying "I love you" in Korean
If you have a different accent than him when speaking Korean/English he might start speaking like you
yk when you get someone's accent just by living next to them
That's him
He finds it fancy
And when the boys tease him for this he might get shy but he's also so proud? Like "yeah I got it from my s/o :D"
Writes a letter to you once he finds confidence in speaking your language. It might have some mistakes here and there but it was so sweet, and the intention behind it was so lovely, that you couldn't help but tear up a bit when you read it for the first time
Han
Loves your culture so much
He'd ask you to show songs and movies and things like that in your language
Like if you're Indian he'd ask you to show him some Bollywood movies
He'd try to guess what they are saying and it's a whole game for him
He's there for the vibes honestly
But I think he'd end up learning a thing or two and later would like to learn the whole thing
Would incorporate your mother tongue in his songwriting I'm 100% sure
And!! would ask for songs recommendations so he could sing to you when you least expect it
Learns two words in your mother tongue, probably uses them in the wrong way, thinks he is fluent.
But he also knows a lot of slangs in your language, it's kinda surprising ngl
He'd occasionally drop a random slang in your language when talking to the kids and everyone would be like ???
"what did you say?"
Felix
Learns your language to surprise you
Like every time there is a break when he's practicing he'd open duolingo
(He'd have a hella long strike, 100 days in a row or smth)
When you're speaking on the phone with someone he tries to listen to it as a listening exercise
Is smiling to himself throughout the period of the call and when you ask the reason why he just brushes it off
Cooks your hometown dishes for you pt. 2!!
But seriously tho
He knows it's hard to be far from home, especially by yourself
So he really tries to make you feel at home
He will cook your nationals dishes, will sing songs in your language, will encourage you to speak in your mother tongue around him etc
:(
Also, 2 kids 1 room flashback
He likes to have meaningful conversations with you where he tells you how much he loves and appreciates you
Unlike Hyunjin, he'd say everything in English because it feels more genuine for him, as it's his first language
So if you're replying to him in your language, he'd feel SO happy
He thinks this is like a proof that everything you're saying comes from a deep place somehow. It makes him fall in love once again
Seungmin
Wants to learn your language the moment you guys get in a serious relationship
Besides wanting to be able to talk to you in your own comfort zone
He'd want to be able to talk to your friends and family who speaks your mother tongue
Like the first time he sees your parents he'd be ready to talk to them
i'm so down bad for this man it's not even funny anymore
anyways
Would take you everywhere in Korea so he could show you a bit of his home (would tell stories about the places so excitedly)
And would love if he had the opportunity to go to your country
Would love it even more if you showed the place around to him and explained a bit about everything you know
If in the first stages of the relationship there is a language barrier, he'd plan dates that don't involve a lot of talking
Like he'd take you to concerts and karaokes
music is universal after all isn't it?
He always give his 100% into the relationship it's so cute
I.N
Finds it really attractive pt2
He loves your accent
And he loves your mother tongue as well
He could spend a whole day just listening to you speak, even if he doesn't understand a single word
And if you're learning Korean, he'd love to see your progress and to see you getting more comfortable while speaking it
I also see two possible scenarios:
One, he'd wake up one day really determined to learn your language and wouldn't stop until he does
Two, he'd never stop and actually learn it, but he'd end up catching up with some things you say and show to him. So in the end he'd know the basics and some essential phrases
I believe he'd genuinely enjoy to learn about your culture
Like, whenever a cultural shock comes up, he'd be invested in understanding it?
Of course sometimes there would be misunderstandings, but I truly think he would try to see the positive view rather than seeing only the cultural crash
He might even learn a thing or two and get your culture's habits
Feedback is very much appreciated!!
Dividers by @cafekitsune
#ngl I'm proud of this one#celi headcanon#skz fluff#stray kids#skz#stray kids fluff#stray kids soft hours#stray kids soft thoughts#skz x reader#skz x you#stray kids x reader#bang chan fluff#bang chan#lee know fluff#lee know#changbin fluff#changbin#hyunjin fluff#hyunjin#han#han fluff#felix#felix fluff#seungmin#seungmin fluff#i.n#i.n fluff#jeongin fluff
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*ੈ✩‧₊˚ nobody else but you ! or jjk boys as your boyfriend
gojo satoru, geto suguru, nanami kento, fushiguro toji
notes — f!reader, mostly just fluff / not proofread at all lol i was gonna write three for each but i got a lil lazy so here you go !!!
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ gojo satoru
satoru is the type of boyfriend to... have no concept of personal space, constantly having his arms wrapped around your waist, a subtle hand on the small of your back or your hands intertwined as he leads you through a busy crowd, his head resting on your chest while his hand rubs your back soothingly. he just loves to feel your skin on his!! always!!
satoru is the type of boyfriend to... be a little bit of a picky eater but love love loves it when you feed him literally anything . it brings him so much joy to think that you’re willing to give up some of your food for lil ol him. he is willing to ignore foods that are the bane of his existence if it meant you were feeding him. and when you tilt your head asking if it was good, he will painfully choke back his food but still give you that same bright smile he always does. after all he can sacrifice a few trips to the bathroom if it meant he could always see your excited face wanting him to try your new food combinations.
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ geto suguru
suguru is the type of boyfriend to... absolutely melt whenever you space out during conversations, only to look up to him with a small "hmm?" followed by a sheepish grin. he lives for the giggle you let out as he pinches your cheek then smoothing over the skin on your cheek with his thumb, cupping your face in his hands, repeating his words for you once more.
suguru is the type of boyfriend to... be able to communicate with you without even saying much at all. he prides himself on being able to read your mind and facial expressions to a tee. even with a small crinkle of your forehead, slightly moving your body closer to him or even if you breathe differently, TRUSTTTT he will always know if he needs to step in and ask you what’s wrong or to let you figure out your own thing.
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ kento nanami
kento is the type of boyfriend to... love going on cute little coffee shop dates with you. he especially loves when you find yourselves tucked into a small corner booth during the winter, your smaller frame pressed close to his body stealing his warmth while you share your favourite pastries together.
kento is the type of boyfriend to... talk to you with the most warmth in his voice. he wouldn't dare to raise his voice at you or give you unwarranted attitude. you’re his everything and definitely talks to you like you are. respectful eye contact, nodding every so often to show that he’s listening, a slight smile on his face as he listens to you talk about some drama that you’ve already mentioned twice before but can’t bring himself to stop you because he just loves listening to you talk.
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ fushiguro toji
toji is the type of boyfriend to... love holding out his arms for you to jump into. he just loves the rush of warmth that comes over him when your body smashes into his after a long day of not seeing each other. although he may not admit it, there is nothing more he loves than seeing his favourite girl running at him and jumping into a hug with your arms and legs wrapped around him. idk he just loves showing you how strong he is !!!
toji is the type of boyfriend to... notice immediately when your not in his arms when your sleeping together. now he doesn’t exactly consider himself a light sleeper but even when he’s snoring his ass off, he somehow notices the lack of you in his arms and will start patting the bed looking for your body. he quickly gives up though when a light shines in his eye followed by your hushed movements in the bedroom, trying not wake your boyfriend only for him for pull you straight to his chest, croaking out a “ya took too long ma” and falls asleep before you could even respond
#💭 — talkingtothemoon#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#jjk fluff#jjk headcanons#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#gojo x reader#geto x reader#geto suguru x reader#nanami x reader#toji x reader#gojo fluff#nanami fluff#toji fluff#geto fluff#JAHSJAIEIJE MY RETURN
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