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#i was just thinking about two of these quotes while watching and this happened
foxglovepng · 2 days
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TWST Overblot theory
CW: Spoilers book 6-7, this post is really long btw, Spoilers spoilers SPOILERS Spoilers for Malleus's age, grim boss theory.
So while I was going through book 6 (This was like when it came out) Idia made an observation and he theorized someone could be inciting these overblots. I looked over it as to what he said after made sense but I watched a theory from Rose Ember in which she discussed a time loop theory. I wanted to throw in my own two cents about an overblot theory I had been thinking about.
(As of making this post it is May of 2024 I am not up to date on any JP chapters, Crowley's card, or Heartslabyul manga book 4-Octavinelle. All of my sources I will be putting as I am taking direct game quotes)
I also would love it if at least some of you guys read this post and reblog I would love to hear y'all's opinions on this. I never seen people really look into it and I want to maybe bounce ideas off of some people on what's really going on.
Just remember all of this is just a theory...A GAME THEORY (RIP Matpat we love you king)
(Book 6 ch51) Idia was talking about how absurd it is that 5 (5 overblots up to this point) Coincidentally happened in 6 months "Overblots can happen when the caster overuses magic and builds up too much blot while experiencing intense negative motions" "It's a cascading effect that stretches back years." "And the thing that triggers emotional outbursts is the hardest to quantify our innermost feelings, or 'heart', so to speak a persons heart is the one thing we can't control no matter how hard we try." Idia's exact words. Now going with that statement and saying all of the overblots are just merely a "Coincidence" let's examine and analyze the overblots and why they happened.
Riddle
(HIS SAILOR MOON OF AN OVERBLOT TRANSFORMATION IS SO COOL IN THE MANGA.) Riddle's overblot obviously happened because his authority was being challenged as the housewarden from Ace going in a duel against him to everyone else getting fed up with his rules to defying him. Not to mention with the deep severe ties with his mother and her rules he well overblots.
Leona
His overblot happened because of his failed plan to basically kill off Malleus (He really pulled a long live the king here) from my understanding he gave up and the Savanaclaw students were like 'tf why?' he turned into an angry kitty and the feelings of being the second born prince and all that trauma raised up especially when Lilia went off on him (I fully blame Lilia for this). And he overblots.
Azul
His overblot happened from when Leona used his UM on Azul's contracts and blipped them away basically. When this happened he went back to that time when he was being bullied and was no longer powerful like he is now.
Jamil
Jamil's happened because well Azul thought it was cute to live stream his whole plan to the world exposing the fact that Jamil was essentially going to betray Kalim and well his deep-rooted years of being merely a 'servant' came up and he overblotted.
Vil
He overblotted because he basically lost to neige and was attempting to kill him (Almost killed Rook and the others). He accepted he had lost to him and will always lose to him and just snapped.
Malleus
He overblotted because of the announcement Lilia was leaving and retiring to Red Lagoon (Okay just leave your kids...ig?). I also want to say Yuu's announcement added to it because well Malleus is a lonely dragon who just wants friends and someone who is basically his father announced he's leaving and his friend outside of Diasmonia is leaving too.
Idia isn't in this list for a reason will get on with that later.
When it comes to all of these overblots in a certain sense none of them make sense as to HOW they happened. Coincidentally how is it that 7 students overblot in a school year especially with how rare they apparently are supposed to be. With them being 16-18 (Leona being 20 and Malleus being 178) You'd figure the eldest third years know the most to be careful. Plus if the staff is doing their job correctly all the students know to be careful right?
If it happened like once in a year that's understandable but 7 coincidentally? Leona had 4 years to overblot why all of a sudden??
I also want to point out something whenever blot would get built as far as I'm concerned they wouldn't even be using magic (Just having a negative emotion) and blot would built. Going by all the patterns from the overblots they get pissy it builds up they use their UM BOOM overblot. I think someone is personally targeting people to build up negative emotions purposefully and then they use a lot of magic which causes it. Having a UM like this could be entirely possible because look at the facts.
Book 2. It makes sense Ruggie would overblot rather than Leona. He just drank a potion that enhances his UM he was mad struggling he just GOT betrayed by Leona makes sense for him to overblot right? Not to mention during the Camp vargas events Overblotting was such a huge concern with just via their magic so why would the staff risk putting MANY students at risk of an overblot if they knew it wouldn't happen.
I also want to add Idia has a curse which has him burn blot and he was the first in hsi family to break that and overblot. However in order for him to thrive he needs to build it it's most likely being in Tartarus he built too much than he could burn off. (In Ch 6-51 it is also stated curses, and sealed phantoms getting lose can cause overblots as well meaning negative emotions and building power aren't the only causes to an overblot) There is a possibility from being around too many phantoms he built too much, but even then his family curse could have been burning blot during his overblot so Idia was probably never meant to overblot by any normal means (However if his curse wasn't burning off blot foul play could be involved)
Going by these facts the theory in question is a possible UM that affects negative emotions to be built up more and possibly a mood change. OR there is a pause on how blot is released causing it to build up.
(Has it ever been stated on how normal humans release blot if it's been built up...?)
ANOTHER THING. JP SPOILERS BTWWWW.
I cannot confirm my sources with this one so please take this with a grain of salt. I came across a post (I CANT FUCKING FIND IT) in which it translated if Malleus's ob doesn't end he will basically become the no. 1 enemy to society (Basically pulling an Eren jaeger). He's very powerful so you'd assume he's very mindful about overblotting especially if he's going to become the no.1 enemy of humanity.
I have some theories on who could be doing this.
1. Crowley
CROWLEY? Him and my other suspect are battling for first place but let me state my reasoning.
For the exception of Book 3, 4, 5? and 6? he was not present during the overblots and was basically useless. However he was present for book 1, 2, and 7. I put a question mark near 5 and 6 even though he was not present he was still in the general area. Via he was brought to Styx and he was DEFINITELY there at the VDC since it was a school event. book 3 and 4 he was for sure not present for.
We quite literally know nothing about him not to mention he's kind of a jerk face and will do anything to save his ass. For Jamil's and Azul's overblot this goes into hand that he could have activated his UM beforehand on them and the overblot started.
Not to mention during book 5 the headmaster of RSA was like "Bro I sense heavy magic presence" and Crowley was like "Naw you mad tweakin homie."
Two thing
He's Fae.
He has to be as old as Lilia or younger. But he definitely has at least 300 years of existence in his age.
HES A LITERAL HEADMASTER FOR A MAGIC SCHOOL
Meaning he DEFINITELY can sense magic so for him to blatantly ignore the blot sense with Vil either he was protecting his ass from losing his job or he is hiding something. Especially since it was an overblot If Malleus's magic was that good Crowley would have either sensed Vil's overblot or Malleus's Magic.
(If I'm correct an anonymous tip was sent in to Styx to check out NRC the anon in question was possibly RSA headmaster as it makes sense)
2. Ortho
Stay with me here
Ortho is from Styx and obviously Styx investigates overblots what if styx itself is causing overblots so they can study them and they are using Ortho.
Since Idia was theorizing about the Obs there is a possibility that he is not in the plan and it's Ortho plus his family and styx staff that's all in the plan.
(They could have gone too far with Malleus's)
It's merely a theory and I have no evidence to back this up
3. Grim
Quoting Idia's exact words ahem..
"He is seriously mediocre in every single way." "The preliminary report of him being a dire beast with high cost of blot density checks out, though." "He's a magical fusion of a direbeast, and some kind of animal." "He's as lackluster with magic as he looks...and his blot density COULD be phenomenally high."
Ahem okay.
So as we know Grim is a fusion with what could be a Direbeast and possibly a cat. Going back to exhibit A in which Idia said loose phantoms could cause an overblot he could be affecting the blot levels around him Yuu being the only one not affected since Yuu isn't from said world.
Some Cons tho
Using this logic Ace would overblot as well same as Deuce hence why I think he is the least likeliest but it does make sense as eventually Grim does interact with the overblot squad.
4. Yuu
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STAY WITH ME STAY WITH ME OKAY
Yuu comes from different world and are trying to actively escape using their new plan MICKEY. However it doesn't exactly explain how Yuu got there since well 1 they are from a different world how would a horse basically cross the multiverse (Unless the Magic mirror is scheming against Crowley and needs Yuu's help that's a different conversation) we know jack shit about Yuu. HOWEVER Yuu could be subconsciously activating overblots since they are prom a foreign world (I'm basically thinking of that one mickey game with the ink brushes EPIC MICKEY) except Yuu causes them.
Cons tho.
As per the manga every Yuu is different every chapter and this would highly contradict (Also how tf are there multiple Yuu's?) not to mention Ace and Deuce would also OB.
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ignitification · 1 year
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“CRASH COURSE IN ROMANCE”
Haruki Murakami, from Norwegian Wood / Emily Palermo, “What I Could Never Confess Without Some Bravado” / Anaïs Nin, from The Diary of Anaïs Nin, vol 1: 1931-1934 / Jess Zimmerman, “Hunger Makes Me”.
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emocheol · 1 month
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seventeen when you call them by their name
instead of a pet name
a/n: i forgot how long writing 13 different scenarios takes T-T
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seungcheol
after a long day of practice cheol entered your shared apartment late at night.
even though he was trying to be quiet you still heard the click of the front door and his fumbling around in the entryway. so you decided to get up and greet him.
“seungcheol?” you asked sleepily, rubbing your eyes as you walked out of your bedroom.
he was so taken aback by his name that he didn't even reply for a good 30 seconds.
“i'm sorry for being home late,” he frowned, “don't be mad.” he whined softly, thinking you were upset with him. why else would you use his full name?
you looked at him quizzically and slotted yourself in his arms, he seemed to relax significantly at your touch.
“i'm not mad, what makes you think that?” you questioned, looking at him with raised eyebrows.
“you called me seungcheol,” he pouted, “what happened to baby?” his pout intensified, his lip jutting out further.
you couldn’t help but chuckle at his antics, “i’m sorry, baby,” you teased, emphasizing the pet name, “i didn't know you liked it that much,” you cooed, putting your hands on his cheeks and smushing his face.
“don't tease me,” he grumbled, pretending to be upset, which just elicited another laugh from your end.
“fine, fine,” you said with your hands raised, mocking a surrender, “let's go to bed, baby, you've had a long day,” you suggested, pecking his lips and taking his hand to lead him to the bedroom.
jeonghan
you had been basking in jeonghan's company all day. it was a rare off-day for the idol and you spent every second possible with your boyfriend.
you were currently in one of your lulls of conversation, just sitting in comfortable silence on two different ends the couch while you both scrolled on your phones.
you saw a funny video while scrolling and knew your boyfriend would love it so you looked over at him and called his name.
“hey, jeonghan? look at this video,” you giggled, holding your phone screen in his direction.
but your boyfriend didn't pay you any mind. thinking he didn't hear you, you called for him a little louder.
“jeonghan? hello?” you scooted closer to him on the couch when you went unanswered again.
you poked his cheek and turned his head to make him look at you when he still didn’t answer.
“hello?” you questioned, noticing his nonchalant expression.
“oh? were you talking to me?”he asked with a raised eyebrow.
“yes? i said your name twice!” you whined, knowing he heard you but he was clearly ignoring you.
“no, you said ‘jeonghan,’” he said, making air quotes with his fingers, "and that's not my name," he pouted finally, showing a side of him that you didn't often see.
you realized what he was talking about and tried to hide a grin at his demeanor, “aww, i'm sorry, let me try again,” you cooed, going back to your previous side of the couch to reset.
“hannie... my angel, my sweetheart, my precious?” you tried, “come look at this video,” you laughed, his attention already on you as you listed your names for him.
“of course, my love,” he smiled, getting up from his spot and cuddling up to your side, “look at how easy that was,” he whispered, plucking your phone from your hands and watching the video that you had pulled up.
he pulled you into his arms and nuzzled his cheek against your head, scrolling and looking at more videos with you. “you're crazy,” you said with a laugh, pressing a kiss against his cheek, but you wouldn't want it any other way.
joshua
“joshua?” you called out from the kitchen while you were making dinner. he had been playing video games in the living room ever since his practice was over.
hearing his full name from you made his ears perk up and he quickly shut off his game, rushing to the kitchen.
“love?” he asked softly, putting his hand on your shoulder, already thinking he had upset you he didn't want to anger you further. “is everything okay?” he asked tentatively, testing the waters.
“huh? yeah, joshua, everything's fine can you just-”you said as you stirred the pot on the stove, not looking up at him while you were focused on perfecting the food.
but, when he heard his full name again and the classic 'everything's fine' line he quickly jumped to conclusions and deduced that everything was not fine.
he cut you off before you could finish talking and immediately went into apologizing.
“i’m sorry, love, i don't know what i did to make you upset but i'll fix it, okay?” he said with a weary smile, still with his hand on your shoulder, “was i on the game for too long? did you want me to help you cook? was i too loud?” he rambled, facepalming as he thought he had messed something up and made you mad.
as he rambled you slowly started to look over at him, his words confusing you to no end.
“why would i be upset?” you asked, looking at him as if he was crazy, which he was.
“what?” he questioned back, “you called me joshua and you haven't looked at me and you said everything was ‘fine’, that's like textbook upset partner.” he said, as if it was totally obvious.
you blinked at him a few times before you burst out laughing, “god, babe, you're hilarious!” you exclaimed, slapping his shoulder as you laughed. now it was joshua's turn to be confused since he was positive that you were upset.
“you’re not upset?” he questioned, you shook your head as your answer while you were still doubled over laughing, “why did you call me over then?” he asked.
you pointed to the glass jar on the counter next to you after you had composed yourself, “i was going to ask you to open that jar, dummy,” you teased.
joshua blew out a breath and quickly opened the jar with ease, “that's... it?” he questioned.
“yeah, that's it, you can go play your game some more,” you smiled, pressing a kiss against his cheek.
“but you called me joshua...” he grumbled, you never called him joshua!
“which is your name, if i’m not mistaken,” you pointed out, pinching his cheek. he swatted at your hand and groaned.
he opened his mouth to start complaining more before you quickly stopped him. “okay, okay, i’m sorry babe, you can go play your game again.”
joshua gave you a firm nod, as if he was finally satisfied with your name for him. “okay. let me know if you need anything.” he grinned, kissing your head and then strolling back to the living room.
“you’re a child,” you whispered to yourself, continuing dinner with a smile on your face.
“but you love me!” he called back, somehow hearing you. well, he’s not wrong.
jun
‘thanks, junhui!’
that was the text that you had sent your boyfriend after he told you he bought you a book from the town he was currently in on tour.
he loved gift giving and he knew you loved books so he scoured every bookshop in the town to find the perfect book for you. he excitedly sent you a picture of the book he bought and that was your reply to it.
it made his head spin with reasons of why you could be mad at him.
calling him ‘jun’ was already a rarity in your relationship, but ‘junhui’? he wasn’t sure you’d ever called him that.
‘are you mad at me?’ he texted back, getting straight to the point.
you took nearly 10 minutes to reply, 10 agonizing minutes for jun.
‘not at all, i’ll see you when you get home’ was your response.
now this reply made him absolutely spiral, good thing he was returning home today. but because of your replies to him he made a few extra stops before hopping on the plane.
when you finally arrived back home from work you opened the door and was met with your sheepish looking boyfriend and what looked like a mountain of books behind him.
“babe! what are you doing here? and what is with all the books?” you exclaimed, jumping into his arms and hugging him tight.
jun was taken aback by your reaction, his mind stuck on the thought that you were mad at him. “i thought you were upset with the book i got you… so i kind of bought as many as i could fit in my luggage to make up for it,” he said, his cheeks slowly turning red when he realized you really weren’t mad at him.
you pulled your head back and gave him a look, “what made you think i was mad?” you asked, pulling away and starting to pick up the different books that were piling up on your coffee table.
“you called me junhui…” he whispered, saying it out loud made him feel stupid, it was just a name, his name in fact.
“are you saying that you bought me a hundred books because i called you by your first name?” you questioned, raising an eyebrow at him.
he nodded his head sheepishly.
“you are too cute!” you exclaimed, giving him another tight hug, “for the record, i’d tell you if i was mad at you,” you made sure to clarify.
“okay…” he said softly, looking at the absurd amount of books, “should i return all of these now, or-” he began to speak before you cut him off.
“absolutely not,” you said quickly, snatching a book and sitting on the couch beginning to read.
jun slowly made his way next to you and laid his head in your lap, getting comfy while you read aloud to him.
hoshi
“honey?” you called out in your apartment, waiting for hoshi to reply to you. you needed help folding the laundry and hoshi was always eager to help you do whatever you needed.
you heard a distant, “give me a minute!” come from your shared bedroom where your boyfriend was no doubt playing video games again.
you rolled your eyes at his response and started folding the laundry on your own, giving him a few minutes before calling for him again. “honey? i need your help out here,” you called again, waiting to hear his footsteps.
but instead you got another, “just a sec!” which made you pull out the big guns. hoshi hated you calling him by his name, he said he sounded like you were scolding him. but desperate times call for desperate measures.
“kwon soonyoung! i said i need your help!” you called out even louder than before, knowing that would get him.
once his name left your mouth you heard fumbling coming from the room and the door opening quickly, his feet slapped against the floor as he ran over to you.
he already had the expression of a kicked puppy, “i told you not to call me that!” he pouted, standing in front of you.
you gave him a look and pointed at the spot on the couch next to you, “sit,” you said simply. of course, he followed with no question.
“‘m sorry!” he whined when you wouldn’t talk to him, “i was doing really well! you know how hard that game is, and we were winning!” he tried to explain, sloppily folding clothes next to you as he rambled.
“soonyoung?” you said, cutting him off with his name again.
“what,” he said with a frown.
“just fold the damn laundry,” you said with a sigh, grabbing the clothes that he had folded and redoing it properly.
“you’re scary when you’re mad…” he whispered, starting to fold every item of clothing meticulously so you didn’t have anything to be upset with.
he spent the rest of the day giving you his undivided attention and trying to make up for making you upset.
when you finally called him ‘honey’ at the end of the night his face lit up and you forgot why you were even mad with him in the first place.
wonwoo
you were out shopping with wonwoo when something caught your eye from the window of a store. you tugged on your boyfriends coat sleeve.
“wonwoo-” you started, but you were quickly cut off.
“try again.” he said simply, making you furrow your eyebrows.
“wonwoo?” you questioned, tugging his arm again and making him stop walking.
“try again.” he repeated, pulling his phone out of his pocket and pretending to scroll on it.
“wonwoo, what are you-” he cut you off once again with a look.
“one more time, sweetheart,” he said, pointing you in the right direction. this made it click in your head and you just scoffed.
“babe?” you tried, finally his attention turned towards you and he showed off his award winning smile.
“yes, sweetheart? what do you need?” he asked, his voice sweet as honey.
“you're impossible,” you laughed, “i want to go into that store,” you pointed at the clothing store next to where you were stopped.
“then let's go,” he grinned, pulling your hand and leading you into the store, “you know if you call me by my name people might not think we're together,” he said as if it was an obvious fact.
“we're literally holding hands and wearing matching outfits,” you pointed out, which just earned a shrug from your boyfriend as he started grabbing different pieces of clothing that he thought would look good on you.
sure, he was a subtle guy, but he wanted everyone to know that you were his.
woozi
“jihoon, i'm home,” you called out into the apartment. you had a meeting that lasted much longer than usual and it was already dark out when you returned.
your boyfriend had been home all day and by the smell of fresh food you could tell that he had been cooking.
you slipped off your shoes in the entry way and tossed your bag on the couch before slipping into the kitchen and coming up behind your boyfriend. you wrapped your arms around his waist and rested your chin on his shoulder while he stirred the pot in front of him.
“jihoon?” he questioned, scrunching up his face at the mention of his full name. he didn't hate when you said his name, you just never did. “what're you calling me that for?” he asked directly, not assuming anything.
“i realized i don't call you by name, do you not like it?”you asked, lifting your head up and looking over at him, your arms still around him.
“i don't mind, i'm just used to baby,” he said, pressing a kiss to your cheek, “or babe,” another kiss, “love, sweetheart, honey, my one and only,” he listed, pressing a kiss to your face in between each pet name.
you couldn't help but smile at the affection you were receiving from your boyfriend, you pressed a few kisses to his cheek in return and let him resume his cooking while you watched from a seat at the island.
“but you're okay with jihoon?” you asked, wanting to make sure.
“i’m okay with you calling me jihoon,” he said, turning over his shoulder to look at you, “but don't use it too much.” he said, giving you a pointed look.
he wouldn't say it out loud but he loved the sweet pet names you gave him, even the ridiculous ones.
minghao
“what did i do?” was the first words your boyfriend uttered when he walked into your shared home.
you looked up from your spot on the couch and tilted your head at him. “what do you mean?” you questioned, not understanding him.
“i mean, i can tell you're mad so i give you permission to yell at me, just tell me what i did first.” minghao said, bracing himself for whatever you would say to him. by no means did you fight often but whenever you got angry at him he would take it.
“i’m not mad at you,” you said, opening your arms, waiting for your boyfriend to join you on the couch. when he didn't come over you deadpanned, “well now i'm mad that you're not cuddling me.” you joked, waiting for him to come over.
he slowly walked over to you and pulled you against his chest, giving you a cautious look.
“then what was up with that text?” he questioned, pulling out his phone, “you said, and i quote, just wait until you get home, minghao,” he recited, “when have you ever called me by my first name?” he said like it was obvious.
“oh! i made your favorite dessert!” you said with a happy smile, pointing to the kitchen where his treat was freshly made and waiting on the counter.
his face went soft at your happy mood and he gave you a short kiss, “thanks, love,“ he said softly, “but your text did not make it sound like that.” he chuckled.
“oh right, i didn't want to give anything away so i called you minghao, was that too mean?” you asked, hoping you didn't make him worry.
he sighed with a smile and shook his head, “just a bit,” he said honestly, “you never call me minghao,” he pouted, half jokingly but also half seriously.
“i’m sorry, love,” you said, kissing his cheek, “i won't scare you like that again,” you teased, jumping up from the couch and pulling him up with you.
“come eat! i made it all for you,” you said with a smile, leading him to the kitchen and plating his dessert with a smile.
mingyu
mingyu had a cold. and when mingyu got sick he got dramatic. he was currently cuddled up in bed while you took care of him.
you would take his temperature, give him medicine, cook him some soup, and keep him as comfortable as possible while you worked from home.
“mingyu, do you want some soup?” you asked softly, pushing his hair off of his forehead and feeling for a temperature.
his eyes shot open and his lip jutted out. “mingyu?” he questioned softly, “why are you calling me mingyu?” his voice wobbled a bit. but can you blame him? he’s a sensitive man.
“because that’s your name, baby, you don’t like it?” you asked, holding his hand, your voice softened at your boyfriend.
he shook his head at your question, he was always ‘baby’ or ‘sweetheart’ or ‘gyu’.
“sorry, baby,” you cooed, “but do you want any soup?” you asked again, hoping it would fix his mood.
“don’t want soup, i want a kiss,” he said with a little mischievous smile, then puckering his lips.
you rolled your eyes, he knew you couldn’t say no to him, especially since he was sick and was on the verge of tears after you called him his first name. “you’re such a baby,” you groaned, “if i get sick it’s your fault,” you reminded him.
“then it’ll be my turn to take care of you,” he said as if it was obvious, leaning up a bit and catching your lips with his.
sure, mingyu was a big baby. but he was your big baby.
dk
dk had been stuck in practice all day while you had a free day. so, being the loving and doting partner that you were you decided to make your boyfriend some dinner. which also included making dinner for his 12 bandmates, but you didn’t mind. you were like a big family.
you were let into the building and made your way to their practice room, hands full of bags carrying multiple different containers full of food.
the boys were all sitting around the room during a break and you popped your head inside, leaving the bags in the hallway.
a few people looked over at you when you opened the door, but every head snapped your way when you opened your mouth.
“seokmin?” you asked, which caused some murmurs among the group.
dk couldn’t remember the last time he was called that name.
‘you better fix whatever you did wrong’ ‘why is she mad at you?’ ‘what did you do?’ different members began to ask all at once to your boyfriend, sending him into even deeper of a panic.
he jumped to his feet and made his way over to you. you didn’t look mad at him, but now he was worried. he grabbed your hand and gently pulled you into the hallway and closed the door to the practice room behind you.
“is everything okay? did i leave something on at home? did i forget to take out the trash?” he asked seriously, thinking of what he could’ve possibly done to elicit you calling him his first name.
you gave him a look in response, furrowing your eyebrows at his rambling. “no… i made you guys food,” you explained, pointing to all the bags on the floor by the two of you, “was just asking you to help me bring it in.”
“huh?” your boyfriend questioned, looking at the bags and then back up to you. “why’d you call me seokmin, then? i haven’t heard that name in ages!” he whined, tugging at your hand.
“oh? i texted jeonghan and told him i was coming over, he told me to call you seokmin,” you laughed, not thinking that he was going to take it that much to heart.
dk sighed and grabbed the bags, pecking your cheek, “thank you for dinner,” he said softly, opening the door to go back into the practice room with you trailing behind him.
his members all looked over and started laughing, apparently they were in on it too.
“you guys suck!” he groaned, “i’m keeping all this food to myself now,” he said childishly, hoarding all the bags by the two of you and trying to keep everyone else away.
eventually he caved and you all ate together, everyone thanking you and still poking fun at your boyfriend.
seungkwan
“seungkwan,” you tried to get your boyfriends attention, standing across the kitchen island from him.
his eyes left his phone and found yours, narrowing in the process. he didn’t say anything so you frowned.
“seungkwan?” he continued to stare at you and you grew slightly agitated since he was seemingly ignoring you.
“can you reply?” you asked with an attitude, crossing your arms.
“i’m just waiting for you to get it right,” he said, mirroring your body language and the amount of sass.
his words only confused you more. “get what right? you’re crazy,” you mumbled, basically having a staring contest with him.
seungkwan just scoffed and rolled his eyes, “my name! i’m waiting for you to get my name right,” he said as if it was obvious. “i am not ‘seungkwan’ to you.” he explained, putting his name in quotations with his fingers.
“are you waiting for me to call you sweetie?” you asked finally, a smile slowly starting to spread on your face. your boyfriend may be a little sassy but he was truly a sweetheart.
“maybe,” he replied simply, his arms still crossed as he waited.
you hummed at his response and then made your way around the island to hug him. “alright, sweetie, i was just going to ask where you wanted to eat tonight,” you grinned, pressing a few sweet kisses on his cheek.
his attitude instantly melted away at the pet name and he pulled you closer to him, “wherever you want, angel,” he replied simply.
it was that easy.
vernon
vernon isn't phased by much. but he does get a little salty when you use his first name on him. he says it sounds too much like a mother scolding him. so, of course, you tease him with it sometimes.
“hansol! can you come to the living room?” you called out in your home, not sure which room he was in.
soon you heard his footsteps and he walked into the room with a scrunched up face.
“yes, darling?” he exaggerated his pet name for you, hoping you'd get the hint.
you spun around in a circle and posed, showing off your new outfit to your boyfriend.
“what do you think? you like my new outfit?” you asked with a blinding smile, posing in a few different ways as your boyfriend watched.
“i think it looks lovely, babe,” he exaggerated again.
“thank you, hansol,” you replied with a sweet smile.
“you look gorgeous, sweetheart,” he tried again.
“thank you, hansol,” you repeated, trying to keep your laugh at bay.
“positively perfect, my love.”
“i appreciate it, hansol.”
“absolutely stunning, angel.”
“you’re too kind, hansol.”
“that’s it, i’m ignoring you for the rest of the day.” he finally said after surveying you for a few minutes. he turned on his heel and walked back to your shared bedroom.
“no!” you called after him, “i’m just joking,” you said in between laughs as you walked fast behind him to catch up.
he shrugged his shoulders and sat back down at his desk, continuing his previous task before you had called him to the living room.
“don’t be sulky now, i was teasing,” you pouted, putting your hands on his shoulders and turning his chair to face you.
“it’s fine, y/n,” he said with a grin, now using your own name back as revenge.
“hey! you can’t call me that!” you whined in response.
“watch me.” he smirked, flicking your forehead gently.
oh how the tables have turned.
dino
this man rarely hears his name from anyone. it’s always ‘dino’ from his friends and ‘honey’ from you.
so when you started calling for ‘chan’ while you were asleep it made his heart break.
‘who is chan?’ he thought to himself, you couldn’t be cheating on him with another guy. right? you wouldn’t do that, he knows you.
but still, once the thought got placed into his head (by no one but himself) he couldn’t help but shake it.
the next morning he was nervous, he didn’t know how to confront you, or what he would do if his suspicions were correct. so while you were making breakfast for the two of you he mustered up the courage to go into the kitchen and talk to you.
“good morning, honey,” you said with a cheery smile, noticing him right away as he made his way next to you. you caught his lips with a quick peck but noticed that he seemed a little tense. “something wrong?” you asked, concern lacing your voice.
dino just wrung his hands together and frowned. “do you have something to tell me?” he asked softly, already feeling on the verge of tears as he looked down at his feet, not making eye contact with you.
“no? what’s this about?” you asked, turning the heat down on the stove so you could give him more of your attention.
“i just,” he started, “well um…” he tried again, “i heard you talking in your sleep and you were calling out for some guy named ‘chan’ and i know wouldn’t cheat on me or anything but who is chan?” his words spilled out of him and he was talking a mile a minute while you looked at him, your eyes widening.
he was bracing himself for the answer to his question, ready for the worst.
“honey…” you said gently, taking both of his hands in yours and making him look at you, “you are chan.” you explained, trying to hide your smile since he was clearly so distraught.
“huh?” he asked, not understanding what you were getting at.
“honey, your name is lee chan,” you reminded him.
you could see the gears shifting in his head before his cheeks immediately heated up. he snatched his hands from yours and slapped his face. he was chan. and he couldn’t feel any stupider.
he was so used to being honey that he forgot his literal name.
“forget this happened…” he mumbled, walking away as you stifled your laughs.
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lizthewriter · 4 months
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messy / regina george
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PAIRING  regina george x fem!reader
SUMMARY  you and regina have been secretly hooking up for months, but she breaks up with you when you ask for more. after she gets hit by a bus, you fear for her life and whatever relationship you have left.
TAGS  regina george x fem!reader, hurt/comfort, angst, happy ending, queer!, reneé rapp is so fine 😫😫, internalized homophobia, use of d-slur (lesbian slur)
QUOTE  "half of all my exes regret me, / but none of them will ever forget me, / loving me gets really messy," - messy by reneé rapp
WRITTEN  1.13.2024
WORD COUNT  1.3K
A/N everytime reneé showed up on screen, i literally started banging my fists against my seat because she SERVED CUNT!!!! SHE WAS SO FINE!!!! literally after the movie, my best friend said to me: "i think you're just gay. i think you're a woman kisser. you might just have a little fruit in your cup."
slammed up against the wall, you felt regina's teeth clash furiously against yours. it was all hot passion - how your lips ran feverishly against hers as though you'd never get to feel her touch again, the way her hands ran up and down the sides of your body as though she needed to memorize the shape of you. days the two of you had gone without a moment to yourselves. days you had spent fantasizing about her pressing you up against the wall. it wasn't that you didn't want a normal relationship. it wasn't that you didn't want to kiss and hold hands and go on cute dates, but . . . that wasn't regina's style. she was closeted. heavily. actually, you weren't sure that she even understood that making out with girls was perhaps the most gay thing she could do, but you were willing to take what you were given. it was regina george, after all.
she pulled away from you by biting gently down on your lip, letting go when she could no longer stretch it any longer. "god, you're so hot," she whispered with a smirk, unbuttoned the first two buttons of your shirt. she reclaimed the control she had over your body, pressing her lips to your collarbone. your hands somehow found their way to her beautiful blond locks, scraping her scalp with the sharp edge of your nails. fantasy was nothing like reality. you had forgotten how good it felt, but how terrible it was all at once. as her warm breath tickled your skin, doubts that had been haunting you the past few days filled your mind slowly. was this healthy? didn't you deserve a healthy queer relationship, one that would be open and free and full of love, real love?
you wanted it all. you wanted the life you saw other queer girls have all around the world. going on cute picnic dates with homeade muffins and favorite books, sitting in the lap of your partner and doing their makeup, snuggling on the couch while watching a movie. holding hands while strolling the town center. it was hard to keep these thoughts back any longer. they overflowed.
you felt regina freeze as you gently pushed her away from where she had latched onto your upper chest. "can we, um, talk?" you ask. she could hear the tone in your voice. you knew she could. the way her eyes met yours made your stomach twist with discomfort.
"talk?" she asked in an incredulous tone, pulling away.
"it's just that, well, hear me out first. i like you. i really like you, a lot! that's why i really want us to be more than . . . making out in the custodian's closet after school and sneaking into your room while your mom's asleep," you explained nervously, stumbling over your words. finally able to meet her eyes, all hope was shattered as you felt her icy stare fixed upon your flushed face.
"i thought we made a deal when we started this. nothing more than this." she barked out a bitter laugh and fluffed out her hair. "what, did you think i was some kind of dyke or something? this was supposed to be fun. nice job stamping out that fire." she opened the door to the closet and waltzed out like nothing had happened. as if you didn't spend the entire last three months building a bond. heart: broken.
-
fear couldn't describe the emotion you felt driving to the hospital. it was gut-wrenching, blood-curdling, heart-tearingly excruciating. the rumors swirling around made your sick with worry. could she really be dead?
you weren't there when it happened. you had been driving home and then doing homework, hiding your phone away in a drawer somewhere to keep you distracted. it wasn't until hours later that you checked your notifications to realize she had been admitted to the er.
you rushed into the hospital, demanding to hear about her condition.
"are you immediate family?" the nurse at the desk asked. of course you lied. of course you said yes. she gave you the room number and told you that you could wait in the hall - the doctors were talking with her mother and you would need to wait until she woke up herself.
when you arrived at the door to her room, you were afraid to look inside. you weren't sure why. she was alive, yes. maybe you were afraid she was still upset with you. or worse, she had amnesia and forgot about you completely. dejected, you collapsed into the very comfortable plastic chair next to her room.
a few minutes later, the door opened and the doctors and mrs. george exited the room. you stood up suddenly, expectant in your expression.
"she's fine. she's going to heal 100%, she just needs to wear a corrective neck bracelet for several weeks," the doctors assured you. you could relax, just a little. they walked down the hall, chatting softly. mrs. george grinned at you - you had met before, of course, being introduced as one of regina'a friends.
"well, look who we have here! did you hear the news? they said my name on the evening," she told you excitedly, as though her daughter weren't stuck in the hospital from injuries resulting for being hit. by a bus. "head on in darling, those cute boys said she'd be awake soon." her eyes trailed down the hall to the two doctors that had revived regina. with a mini-wave and a "toodle-doo!" she was down the hall and full on flirting with men much younger than herself.
the doorknob to regina's room stared back at you with intimidation so strong you almost turned around and drove home. you reached out a closed your hand around the cool metal, slowly turning it until you were passing through the doorway and standing feet away from her bed. it didn't feel as scary as you thought, entering her room, staring over at her bed. she looked more at peace then you had ever seen her, she looked prettier than you had ever seen her. without her mean-girl face, she seemed a lot more genuine. a lot more like the regina that opened up to you that one chilly night in december.
you silently pulled a chair next to her bed and sat there, waiting for her to wake up. you didn't mind the wait, in a way. because she was sitting there next to you, and she was going to be okay.
when regina awoke, she seemed more confused than anything. her brows furrowed as she looked around the room, her eyes finally landing on you.
"hey," you said all of a sudden, sitting up straight. "you're okay, you're fine. you're . . . in the hospital."
"what are you doing here?" not snappy or bitter or angry. genuine.
"i heard you got hit by a bus," you said, biting your bottom lip anxiously. would she yell at you? tell you she never wanted to see you again? "i heard . . . i you died. i just had to see for myself, to make sure you were okay. i'm sorry, if you don't want me here, i'll -"
"don't leave!" she shouted, grabbing your hand. you stared down at the place where her skin met your hand. this wasn't happening. this couldn't be happening. her fingers intertwined with yours and you find her eyes to be pleading you. "please, just don't leave."
"regina -"
"just shut up and listen, okay?" she told you, sounding upset, but it didn't seem to be an emotion she was directing towards you. you sat back down and scooted your chair closer to her. "i want us to be something more too . . . okay? i like you, loser."
you narrowed your eyes at her. "is this regina george trying to be nice?" you asked dubiously.
"don't ruin the moment or i'm taking everything i said back."
"no," you said quickly, shaking your head with a smile. you placed your other hand on the one clasped in hers. "it's a good look on you. really."
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haddonfieldwhore · 5 months
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offline - vince dunn
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streamer!vince dunn x reader
summary: everyone in vince’s chat thinks he’s in love with you, which makes hiding your relationship interesting
warnings: a few uses of y/n, i think that’s it. not too proud of this one
word count: 0.9k
“bluepanda2, thank you for the 5 gift subs,” you heard vince say into his microphone as you passed by his streaming room. he had been on for nearly 4 hours already, and while you were used to the long streams he did by now, nearly six months into your relationship, you did still get impatient waiting for his attention sometimes. you had been friends with vince for a few years, having met through a mutual friend and staying in touch via text, until one day he gained the courage to ask you out, and here you were now. knowing the stress that the public eye could put a lot of stress on a new relationship, you had both decided it would be best to keep your romance a secret, at least for the first little while. months had gone by and some people were suspicious, and some people just wanted it to happen from the few times you had appeared on or been mentioned in streams.
you didn’t always watch his streams, honestly not having the time to some days, and also feeling like you were spying on him sometimes when you did. but tonight you found yourself missing the man who was just up the stairs from you, and curled up on the couch in his living room with the stream pulled up on your phone.
“guys i’m gonna wrap things up soon. i have a friend coming over so i have to hop off early tonight,” he explained.
- is it y/n?
- i bet it’s y/n
- ^^ i wish they would stream together again
“maybe one day y/n will come over and come on the stream again. i’ll ask them.” vince smiled, reading the chat.
- he’s blushing!!!
- dunner is in love <3
- //youtube link - vince simping compilation//
- are you two dating yet?
- ^^ they’re just friends
- ^^ sure they are lol
"chat, i need you to stop linking clips about me crushing on y/n," he laughed, the crinkles by his eyes on full display, along with the dimple in his cheek that you loved so much. “we’re just friends.”
you smiled as you watched your boyfriend interact with his viewers, knowing how much they meant to him. hopefully one day soon you would be able to tell them the truth, but you both weren’t ready yet. vince wrapped up the stream, and you shut your phone off as you heard his footsteps coming down the stairs.
“hey, you’re offline early today,” you smiled as he flopped onto the couch next to you. “how was the stream today?”
“it was good. did you watch any of it?” he asked.
“i just caught the last couple minutes,” you smiled mischievously. “you know, when everyone was saying how much you love me.”
“hmmm,” he hummed, pulling you close and kissing your lips softly. “they’re right.”
“do you think we should tell them soon?” you asked, and he shrugged.
“i want to,” he ran his hand over his face. “i just know how people can be. and once it’s out there we can’t take it back, you know?”
“yeah, i get it. for now i’m happy having you all to myself,” you smiled, pulling on his arm until he laid on top of you, his head resting on his chest. your fingers ran through his curls, the soft locks slightly matted down from wearing his headset for so long.
“did you miss me or something?” he teased, and you flicked his forehead with your finger.
“yes, actually,” you pouted, and he laughed as he crawled further on top of you, his hands on either side of your head as his body hovered above yours.
“baby if you want my attention, you just have to ask,” he said sweetly, kissing you again.
“another quote that would get added to the compilation video?” you teased.
“definitely,” he smiled, and it was you that kissed him this time, hands tangling in his hair as you pulled him down. his teeth played with your bottom lip as you felt more of his weight on top of you.
“are you tired, vin?” you asked, and he nodded, laying fully on top of you now and burying his face in the crook of your neck. you giggled as he kissed your neck, his stubble tickling against your skin. “vince-“ you whined as he nipped at the skin softly, his hands on your waist, fingertips sliding just under the hem of your sweater. he only hummed in response as he left wet kisses up to your jaw. his lips finally traveled up to your again for one more kiss, before he sat up.
“i’m sorry i never pay enough attention to you,” he said, and you shook your head.
“it’s okay, i’m just being clingy,” you laughed. it honestly wasn’t an issue, there were just some nights you wanted to be close to him when you couldn’t. “maybe i could hang out with you on stream again soon, if the viewers are okay with it.”
“sure, you can tomorrow night if you want,” he said, and a devilish smile tugged at his lips.
“why are you making that face?” you asked nervously and he laughed.
“no reason,” he laughed, before pointing at your neck.
“but if you’re going to be on the stream, we’re gonna have to hide that hickey.”
prompt @novvasdreamscape
disclaimer: all screenshots, events, and/or interactions depicted in this are a work of fiction. i have no association with any parties mentioned
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wttcsms · 18 days
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triple trouble, atsumu miya
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pairing atsumu miya x f!reader word count 1.6k synopsis atsumu steals every reporters' attention as he introduces the media to his triplets during a post-game interview; or, more accurately, his triplets steal all the attention. like father, like sons. content contains domestic fluff, dad!atsumu, atsumu & reader are married and so in love, babies, mention of pregnancy more in this collection!
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The flashes of cameras going off, the constant exclamations of “Miya! Miya!” coming from the crowd of journalists and reporters all vying for his attention, the fact that the foldout chairs they use for all these post-game interviews are harder on your ass than falling on asphalt — all of this is being handled with ease by a smug Atsumu Miya.
Or, normally all of this would be handled with ease by a smug Atsumu Miya.
But right now, the Atsumu Miya struggling to take a seat in the most uncomfortable chair known to man, dyed hair a mess, his usual trademark smirk replaced by furrowed brows and a look of concentration, doesn’t appear to be the godlike adversary on the court. In fact, he looks oddly human. 
The cause of what has humbled this cocky athlete and reduced him to mere mortal man are the three chubby toddlers he’s cradling in his arms. 
All of them are identical, from their chubby cheeks to their little grubby hands. Heads full of thick, dark brown hair (reminiscent of their father’s natural color) poke out from Atsumu’s hold, and the eighteen-month-olds’ eyes are all full of childlike wonder as they watch the crowd, confused as to who all these people are. 
After finally getting settled into his seat, Atsumu addresses the crowd casually, as if he didn’t spend the last two minutes ensuring that his baby boys weren’t going to slip from his arms while he tried to prepare for this interview. Akimitsu is secured in his left arm, Akihiko in the right, leaving poor Akinari to cling onto Atsumu’s neck. 
While athletes have been getting more comfortable with bringing their kids up on stage with them, no one has ever seen a professional athlete haul his three babies with him. 
A fact that one reporter is more than happy to point out.
“Miya, wife put you on babysitting duty?” A male journalist calls out from the crowd. A few chuckles follow, but Atsumu just smiles at the mention of you.
“Nah. It’s not babysittin’ if they’re your damn kids, right? Besides, she deserves a break.” A few appreciative murmurs flutter through the crowd. 
After the initial surprise of seeing identical triplets being carried in the MSBY Black Jackals’ setter’s arms, the reporters are back to business as usual. They’re all professionals — even if hearing Atsumu give them a great quote to use as a hook (“I respect Nakamura as a human bein’ but calling him a setter for a professional league volleyball team is an insult to setters everywhere.”) is followed by him cooing sweet words of affirmation to whichever of his sons happens to be babbling in his ears. 
“Nakamura isn’t a very good player, is he, Akihiko?” No one outside of your family and his teammates have ever heard Atsumu sound so affectionate. His words are practically coated in sugar, and it’s hard to remember that he’s insulting another player in the league whenever he’s practically bumping noses with his toddler son when he says it. 
Akihiko, most likely due to his father’s influence, lets out a stream of enthusiastic gurgles that Atsumu automatically translates to him being in complete agreement with him. 
“Write that down.” He says to the crowd. “Even my baby knows he’s shit at the game.” 
There’s a few more minutes of Atsumu answering the usual post-game questions, but halfway through one of his responses, Akinari loses his grip on Atsumu’s neck and is about to tumble to the floor before Atsumu’s reflexes kick in. You’ve made a joke once that you think Atsumu’s reflexes have become heightened after becoming a father; his athletic instincts have merged with the famous “dad reflexes” all fathers seem to be gifted with. (Atsumu tells reporters that this is why he keeps on becoming a better player; people think his family would hold him back, but once again, family is his greatest blessing.)
“Ya gotta hang onto me, buddy.” Atsumu can’t even pretend to be stern when he tells this to Akinari, who only smiles at him and exclaims something unintelligible. He shifts Akinari to his left arm, relaxes back in his seat, and is even excited to answer a question concerning his play style compared to Tobio Kageyama’s, but as he readjusts the two boys in his arms, Atsumu can’t help but startle at the fact that he has three kids. Not just two. 
Momentarily panicked, he almost wants to ask why the hell no one told him one of his kids jumped ship but then he feels a tug on the bottom hem of his volleyball shorts. 
Peering under the table, Atsumu is greeted with the sight of Akimitsu’s mischievous little face. He’s the oldest of the three and takes after Atsumu the most — meaning, he’s the cutest little nightmare there could ever be. 
“Whatcha doin’ under the table, Mitsu?” Atsumu asks, and Akimitsu gives out a happy, gleeful shriek. He’s clapping his grubby hands together and cheering. 
“Dada found me!” 
“I did find ya, buddy.” Atsumu coos. “Now why don’t you come sit on daddy’s lap?” 
After wrangling up all his kids once more, Atsumu sighs and looks up at the timer in front of him. 
“I have enough time for one more question.” He tells the crowd.
“Are you excited to get out of here and get back home to the wife?” 
“I’m always happy to come home to [Name]. If there’s a professional league for motherhood, she’s going into the hall of fame. I don’t know how she handles these fools by herself all day.” 
Akihiko takes a tiny, chubby hand and smacks Atsumu in the face. Repeatedly. 
“Home! Home!” His slaps get slightly more aggressive, but Atsumu’s received some serves with his face before, so it doesn’t really phase him. “Home! Mama!” 
“Well, you heard the man.” Atsumu actually gives a genuine smile for the cameras. “We gotta head home.”
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You’re applying your moisturizer in the bathroom despite the mirror being fogged up from the hot shower. It’s probably why you don’t anticipate strong arms wrapping themselves around your body, and you gasp before your muscle memory recognizes him. Your body easily relaxes against his, and you’re smiling as you ask your husband, 
“Had a good day today?”
“We took ‘em in two straight sets. Slaughtered the other team to the point where it wasn’t even fair.” He angles his head just right so he can kiss you on the cheek, but you gently slap him away.
“I’m putting on moisturizer right now.”
“Great. My lips are dry.” He goes in for another kiss, and even though you’re giggling, trying to pull away from him, he still plants a peck on your soft skin. “Should I go for seconds, just for good measure?” He teases.
“Hmm, I guess so.” 
“Oh? What’s with the change? Realize how much you can’t live without my touch?” He pulls you in closer to him, your back pressed firmly against his chest. He’s fresh out the shower, stray droplets of water greedily clinging onto his skin. 
“Maybe.” You tilt your head back on the front of his shoulder so that you can see him. “You know your interview is trending on Twitter, right?” 
“Oh, yeah? Bet Nakamura’s pissed.” Atsumu sounds too happy at the concept. 
“No. There’s actually an interesting clip that keeps going around. Someone already used it as an intro for a thirst edit of you.” 
You like it when Atsumu is thinking. There’s an adorable crease in between his furrowed brows, and you can practically see him going through the memory files in his brain, trying to figure out what could possibly be worthy of inspiring an edit of him. 
“You seriously don’t know?” You’re laughing at him, and it’s the sweetest sound in the world. Atsumu doesn’t take kindly to being the butt of a joke, but from the moment he saw you, he knew he’d do anything to stay by your side, even becoming a fucking court jester if that’s what it took. 
You reach for your phone on the counter, taking a few seconds to load up the fan edit you have favorited. 
He’s burying his face in your hair, hiding away as he hears the audio of him going now why don’t you come sit on daddy’s lap playing on a loop. He groans when you let it replay, uncharacteristically shy as you keep telling him to watch it. 
“The comments are the best part, though, baby!” You haven’t been able to stop giggling at jackingthejackalsoff’s very bold and very true statement of yeah, if i were [name], i’d pop out triplets for him too tf 😭🙏.  
As Atsumu’s hands travel to rest against the growing swell of your belly, you tease him. “So, when the twins are born, do you think you’ll have enough space in your arms to haul all five of our kids, or should we finally use that baby chest carrier Shoyo gifted us?” 
“I can carry all of ‘em and you onto that stage.” He regrets making this smug remark whenever you slightly drop your teasing tone and use what he dubs The Mom Voice on him.
“Oh? If that’s true, then why did it take you so long to realize Akimitsu crawled out of your arms while you were busy calling your opponents scrubs?” 
“Have I ever told you what a wonderful mother you are? And this moisturizer! Wow, I don’t know what you’ve been doing with your skin, baby, but keep it up.” He’s peppering your face with more kisses, hurriedly trying to change the subject, and you gladly let him.
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polarisjisung · 2 months
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BITTERSWEET
synopsis: it's routine— you patch up his wounds and watch them heal, he salts your wounds but doesn't stick around long enough to watch them grow.
wc: 2.7k
pairings: jaemin × fem!reader
genre: angst, fluff
warnings: mentions of violence, blood, uses of petnames, reader ogles at jaemin for a little while, jaemin gives mixed signals but also not really?
notes: I was supposed to post this last week but the formatting was so off anyways happy renjun day, here's a jaemin fic?
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even when he was battered, bruised and most probably broken, na jaemin stared up at you with those shiny eyes, almost iridescent under the moonlight.
you havent seen him in weeks.
you'd like to kick and scream and shout at him for ghosting you all this time, the possibilities of everything that could've happened to him, worrying you endlessly up until now.
you hate him for just showing up like this, out of the blue, you think, but his composure suggests that this isn't as big of a deal as you make it out to be—whether it was weeks or maybe even months later, na jaemin would always circle back to you
like always, there he is stood at your doorstep at an ungodly hour of the night, dripping blood all over the welcome mat that lays on your front porch, his usual carefree self
you know you'll be getting a long scolding from your mother about the kind of company you surround yourself with the next morning, before being forced to rub the stains out of said mat, but in this moment, you couldn't seem to care less
perhaps it's because you swear you've never seen anything prettier, even with cuts littered across his skin, and a swollen eye that would certainly discolour the next morning, he looks ethereal.
for a moment, your jaw hangs low and jaemin holds back a chuckle at the sight, though you wish he hadn't, before you slip to the side and let him in, shutting out the cold as he flings the door to a close behind him, finally turning to face you
jaemin however, had always basked in the warm feeling of admiration that came with your look, though it mostly fell straight through his heart and inflated his sky high ego instead, jaemin wonders how despite his cocky nature you seemed to welcome him all the same
there's an unfamiliar sweetness to his scent tonight, his clothes oozing with the smell of cologne and what any sane person could recognise as perfume— women's perfume.
suddenly you find it difficult to keep looking at his stupidly pretty face, almost feeling sick
admittedly tonight your eyes hold a deeper gloominess to them, bloodshot, because you're tired, he tries to convince himself, but he knows a lot of that redness comes from the purple painted splodges against his skin, the bruises that burn deep inside his being— a burning that seems negligible at the sight of you
"cute slippers" he whispers, the sight of your fluffy pink hello kitty slippers causing the heat to rush to your cheeks
the embarrassment fades just as quickly as it seemed to have taken over your entirety— jaemin had seen a lot worse of you "almost as cute as you" he adds
you brush over the topic like it means nothing, frankly it doesn't, like most things with jaemin
"judging by the state of you" you sigh, two hands on your hips as you look him up and down disappointedly, "you didn't win this fight" and jaemin reels back, far too animated for you to assume he's actually in any pain considering the offended expression he wears, but you know him far too well to fall for his, admittedly convincing, acts
"I won, actually" he says weaving his arms through the gaps between yours to pull you closer, letting then hang at your waist
"sure you did" you nod sarcastically but he only rolls his eyes, following you into the kitchen
he knows what it means when you hold out two mugs, specifically the ones you had hand painted on your trip to the park when you were 5, adorned with the same floral pattern in different colours, and a cheesy quote continued across the two cups— his eyes light up
"hot chocolate?"
and jaemin hates hot chocolate, until its made by you, the sweet, almost childish drink something he could only savour in the dim lighting of your living room
maybe it was because of that specific brand of crazy expensive hot chocolate you used, that tasted a little dark and sometimes too strong for your liking, or maybe, most probably it was the taste of nostalgia that would linger on his lips each and every time
all jaemin knows is he would find himself laughing at the moustache of marshmallow fluff that would undoubtedly form over your upper lip as you carefully dabbed against his wounds with the antiseptic you kept on hand, one reserved solely for him since he was allergic to the regular stuff
he nods, attempting to grin before pulling his lip between his teeth at the sharp pain that strikes across it—hissing.
you laugh, despite the dull ache that takes over your chest seeing him like this
flicking your head over to the sofa is all you can do, worried your voice would give way if you gave the instructions verbatim but jaemin seems to get the memo.
as he takes a seat on your mother's favourite buttoned yellow velvet loveseat— you choose not to read to far into his choice of sofa
you're fishing through the drawers of your freezer to find some ice to help his wounds but all you can find is a bag of dino nuggets and a bag of peas— you decide the dino nuggets have a larger surface area and would probably be a little more help as you emerge through the kitchen door, hoping you made the right choice
jaemin finds the faint look of contemplation on your face far too adorable to hide the smile that reaches his now coloured cheeks, one darker than the other owing to the bruise that blossoms over it
"here" you offer it out to him wrapped in a towel, having learnt from your mistakes the last time you'd accidentally given him freezer burn
"gonna make me do it all by myself doll?" you shoot a questioning look his way "I'm all ache-y"
contrast to his tough demeanor, jaemin looks up at you with a pout and a look of feigned innocence
"yeah? well you should've thought about that before landing yourself in this situation"
you're ready to turn a full 180 on your heels and walk away, until jaemin's fingers wrap around your wrist, bruised knuckles begging for some sympathy
"please?"
ultimately you give in. you knew you would the second he looked at you with those shiny big eyes. you didn't know how to say no, not to him
"fine."
"that's my girl" he beams up at you, you know better than to let his words replay in your mind, his girl, why did that sound so damn good?
as your press the towel to his cheek, the cool feeling against his burning hot skin makes him wince, though you're not sure who's in more pain considering the way you your heart threatens to leap out of your chest
"how many times do I have to tell you to be more careful huh jaemin" you sigh, rubbing circles against his warm skin in an attempt to comfort him, angry eyes latched onto the rough blood stained patches
"don't call me that" his voice drops an octave somehow louder than before despite coming in whispers
"what else shall I call you? is that not your name jaemin?"
his eyes almost flash over completely black as he huffs, "not to you it isn't" and you notice the slither of seriousness that remains unmasked beneath his playful tone— you wonder why jaemin makes no effort to hide the solemnity of his words
but that's who he had always been, hot and cold, difficult to read, even more so to understand, he was confusing at best and so like most things with jaemin, you'd decided putting much thought to it wasn't your best idea, you would only be breaking your own heart.
"oh I didn't know it was different for me" you place a band aid against his wound, reaching to treat the next, your tongue poking out from between your lips causing jaemin to suddenly smile, eyes unwavering from the soft pink skin of your lip
between nights spent in his lousy apartment, cooped up in the illusive comfort of his arms and days spent with tear stained cheeks at the thought of being some disposable little thing in his life, you can't help but find yourself unsure of your place in his life
the acidity rising in your throat should be enough of a reality check for you to know the answer to your question, but self awareness had never been your strong suit.
at times he made you feel like the only girl in the world, most times he made no effort to acknowledge your existence, because jaemin was a man of two extremes
when he cared, or at least seemed to, he did so with his whole heart, and when he didn't— well you couldn't have felt any more worthless
right now his speech is sweet, like his voice is honey and his words are sugar-coated, you're intoxicated by the way his deep cologne overwhelms your senses, making your best attempt to filter out the cheap feminine scent that seems to have blended itself into his
"you know it is doll, everything is different with you" his voice reduces further into deeper whispers, words that hit your mind and soul all at once, heartbeat sounding somewhere in the background as the words echo in your mind
you shake your head.
jaemin had always been adventurous with his words, he was bold to say the least, meaning you knew to take his words with a pinch of salt, or two— however many were necessary really.
drunk on what little love he gave you, you find a sudden dizziness overwhelm you— the good kind that makes you feel warm and fuzzy inside even if just for a moment.
honestly speaking, you know you'd believe anything that came out of his mouth— na jaemin could wake up one day and decide the sky was pink and the earth was flat and you'd take it as bible.
you suppose it's just integrated into your genetic coding or something, to be at his beck and call, to let the walls you build around yourself fall down every time, you would protect yourself from the whole world, but the harsh truth was, you couldn't protect yourself from him ,though you didn't mind all that much.
"one of these days I'll leave you at the door to rot" your eyes roll at his words in an attempt to return to the playful mood, and jaemin knows you would never, but the brief mention of the possibility still makes him gulp, sound resonating in his ears
"never" he whispers, suddenly his eyes are glossy and his grip on the warm mug begins to loosen, the thought of losing you never having been one to cross his mind until now, you however, seem as unbothered as before
similar to most things in life, jaemin took you for granted.
but that was the thing, you were unlike anyone, anything, any part of his life— you were special.
jaemin knew you meant a lot to him, it wasn't a secret he tried to hide, not that he was particularly good at expressing it either, but the way your hair falls over your face as you concentrate on patching up his injuries and your skin glows under the dim light has jaemin wondering just how much you mean to him.
jaemin decides you mean the most to him, more than anyone else.
as a man of habit, he wonders what that would mean for these habits of his that you hated oh so much. very little, most probably. he had you amongst a thousand other wrapped around his finger, cast under his spell, deeply infatuated with him but somehow playing with you felt the most special.
that was the problem, you were special to him and as much as he enjoyed playing with fire, jaemin had never thought he'd find himself getting burnt.
you don't realise the silence that befalls the room, nothing but the soft buzz of the fridge or the flicker of the soon to fuse kitchen light mixed with your soft breaths— he had noticed they grew louder as you became more exhausted, guilt beginning to settle somewhere in the pit of his stomach, knowing he was keeping you awake
he was always a little selfish when it came to you, he knew that
your eyes land on jaemin, his flooding with something you can only hope is a feeling of warmth— anything but his usual sudden switch up before he'd announce he was leaving, only for you to see him the next time he got himself like this, a couple nights into the next week most probably, a routine you can't say you had appreciated, nor condoned
most things with jaemin were like this, short lived, and bittersweet, although the bitter part seemed more overpowering at times
you can't help but hold onto the little slither of hope that tonight will be different
"hey doll" his free hand cups your cheek, forcing your noticeably distant eyes into his—but instead of the icy cold stare you expect, you're met with fire, his eyes burning with promise
"hmm?" your eyes lock, "what's up?"
"never stop nagging at me, please" he sucks in a harsh breath, hoping you'll say something to stop him from completely losing control of his words and spilling every thought he's ever held back when it came to you, a lot really
but you only take a sip of the warm drink in your mug, the tones of dark cocoa and the traces of coffee so distinct.
the white foam spreading across your lip as you now decide to tend to the gash beneath his eyebrow, though jaemin sees it as an excuse to take ahold of your face between his fingers, thumb tracing over your upper lip
"cute" your wide eyes make him chuckle, noticing a small speck of white still resting on your lip
"would you look at that, I missed a spot" you find yourself being pulled further into his lap, legs messily sprawled across the couch along with his, you don't mind however, his pink glossy lips the only thing on your mind
you'd like to let him ruin you, make you his puppet, blind you with his warmth and make you his and only his. even if you were his little plaything, it didn't matter, nothing mattered as long as you were his.
"and what are you going to do about it nana, hmm?"
you let your nose rest gently against his, soft vanilla scent mixing with the deep musky cologne jaemin wore, you wonder how it manages to last throughout the day considering your perfumes lasted all of 5 minutes, at best
"whatever you'd like doll, just say the word and I'll do it"
"you promise?"
jaemin nods, "I promise" and he holds you tight, because like all things good in life, jaemin knows one day, he'll lose you too
as you pout your lips at his, a knowing smile in his eyes , the first aid box is long forgotten behind you and your lips fall atop each other, like they'd always meant to.
you can't help but wonder how long jaemin will stick to this promise of his, forever you hope, though you know better.
especially when his hot cocoa flavoured kisses, like the true essence of jaemin, were so damn bittersweet.
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ale-wosofan · 3 months
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broken
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Alexia x R
R is struggling but she’s not sure why or how to fix it. Will she finally be honest with her girlfriend about how she’s feeling?
warnings: little bit of angst (+fluff), implied adhd
a/n: English is not my first language (I’m aware how much of a cliché that is) so there might be some mistakes; feel free to correct them :) Here I talk about my personal experience with adhd, please don’t use this to self-diagnose, as it is not the same for everyone. Enjoy!
-----
The first time you feel that there’s something wrong with you, you’re at home with your girlfriend.
“Hey, princesa. Have you seen that there’s a new season of that TV show you like?” Alexia asks you once you’ve sat down on the sofa.
“Oh, I didn’t know,” you shrug settling on top of your girlfriend and kissing her cheek.
Alexia looks a little surprised at your answer but starts running her hands up and down your back nonetheless.
“How come? I thought you said it was, and I’m quoting you, the best show you’ve ever seen.”
But you don’t answer. You don’t really know what happened, you’re just not that passionate about that particular show anymore. You had been interested for a few months; had watched all the interviews, bloopers, deleted scenes, but now you just didn’t like it as much anymore. You’ve had a few intense months thinking and talking about the show almost every minute of every day so you probably just need time away from it now that all that initial intensity has worn off.
You don’t realise how much time you’ve been quiet until Alexia speaks again.
“Amor?” you hum in acknowledgement urging her to continue “are you okay?”
“Yeah, just got a little distracted,” you answer shuffling around a little bit trying to get comfortable.
After a couple of minutes moving around you can’t seem to settle. You sigh and sit up feeling Alexia’s eyes on you the entire time.
“So, have you finished the work you had to do?” your girlfriend asks while putting her feet on your lap.
“No, not yet. But I really needed a break.”
Alexia looks up at you surprised.
“¿De verdad? I thought it was supposed to be something easy. You’ve been working for almost two hours.”
You frown. There’s no way it’s been two hours, right? That can’t be possible. But when you look at your watch you realise that it really has been two hours. You have spent all that time in your office and haven’t been able to finish a relatively simple task.
“Today is not my day, I guess,” you say rubbing your hands on your face with frustration “I’m a little distracted today, I can’t seem to concentrate on anything.”
But it wasn’t just today, and you knew that. It was something that had been going on for a while. You couldn’t exactly pinpoint when it had started to happen, but it got bad after the quarantine. You were on your second year of college when the pandemic occurred. You spent a few months studying online, a few months that felt like a bliss to you despite everything that was happening in the world. But you had to come back to class eventually. And it was fine; until it wasn’t. Every time you tried to pay attention to class you got distracted and couldn’t focus on what the teachers were saying for more than a few minutes at a time. When you had projects to do you couldn’t bring yourself to work on them and waited until the last day to get them done. Studying suddenly became a torture since you couldn’t concentrate for long. What once used to take you ten minutes, now it took an hour.
And the thing is you still don’t understand why. You don’t know what’s wrong with you now that wasn’t before. It hadn’t really bothered you before, you’d been able to deal with it for some time. But now it feels like it just keeps getting worse with each passing day. Deep down you know you need help, and you know you should talk to someone about this, but you don’t feel ready to. Not yet.
“How about you keep working on it tomorrow? And we can relax for the rest of the say. We can have a nice bath and then order some food. How does that sound?”
You smile at your girlfriend. How did you ever get so lucky?
“Yeah, I’d really like that.”
-----
The second time you feel that there’s something wrong with you, Alexia had just come home from training.
When you hear the door front open and your girlfriend call out for you, you’re lying on your bed scrolling through social media.
You get up and go say hello to her.
“Hi, baby,” you greet her opening your arms for a hug.
“Hola, mi amor.”
She takes a step back from your embrace, places her hands on your cheeks and kisses you passionately. And just as quickly as it had started she was pulling away.
“Hi,” you repeat feeling yourself blush.
“Hi,” your girlfriend answers kissing your forehead “I’m going to take a shower.”
You blink slowly taking a few seconds to get yourself together, being quickly interrupted by Alexia calling your name from the bedroom.
You make your way there but stop in your tracks in the door frame when you realise why your girlfriend had called for you.
“Princesa, what happened here?”
You give her a smile that you’re pretty sure turns out looking more like a grimace.
“Okay so, I wanted to rearrange some of the books-”
“Again?”
“-but then I wasn’t sure if I wanted to organize them by colour or by genre, so I decided to watch a video to decide. But then I got distracted by another video and kind of forgot what I was doing in the first place, so I just laid down and waited for you to come home,” you answer honestly giving your girlfriend a sheepish smile.
Alexia looks at you in deep thought.
“Okay, how about this? I take a shower and get into some comfortable clothes and once I’m done I’ll help you with all this.”
You sometimes wonder how someone so perfect like the woman in front of you exists.
“Or, we could shower together and then work on the bookshelf together as well,” you suggest smirking.
Your girlfriends lets out a chuckle and kisses your cheek.
“Nice try, but if we do that we might never be able to come out of the shower.”
Once your girlfriend is out of sight you take a look at all the books splattered around the room. The state of the place is certainly overwhelming and it just stresses you out more. Where are you supposed to start?
You sigh and sit down on the bed.
You should’ve finished this before Alexia got here. You’d had more than enough time to do it, so why couldn’t you just focus on your task like everyone else instead of getting distracted with everything? Now your girlfriend had to help you out instead of resting after the long day she probably had.
You rub your hands on your face in frustration. It really isn’t supposed to be that hard right?
“Yeah, I’m just a little lazy sometimes,” you whisper to no one in particular before getting up.
-----
The third time you feel that there’s something wrong with you, you’ve just gotten to your house from work.
When you arrive home you’re exhausted.
Stepping into the house the first thing you notice is the Spanish music playing in the background and the smell of your favourite meal being cooked.
Walking into the kitchen you are welcomed by the sight of your girlfriend wearing one of your old shirts dancing and cooking.
“Hi, love.”
She turns around at the sound of your voice and looks at you with a lovesick smile.
“Hola, princesa,” she quickly answers opening her arms for you to hug her, which you happily do “How was your day?”
You step out of her embrace and give her a kiss before making a face.
“It could’ve been better,” you tell her honestly.
You sit in one of the stools while your girlfriend resumes her cooking duties keeping an eye on you the whole time.
“¿Por qué? Did anything happen?”
“No, nothing in particular,” you pause, deciding whether or not to continue “Although there’s a new project I’ve been working on, which is obviously really exciting, but I’ve spent all morning busy with it; emailing people, setting the different dates for it, planning meetings and all that.”
Alexia completely turns around to look at you and nods urging you to keep talking.
“I just-” you sigh frustrated “I suddenly got hungry, right? And I looked at the time and realised that it was already pretty late and I hadn’t eaten lunch yet, so I went to grab a sandwich to the shop nearby. Then, on the way back I went past that bookstore I really like so I decided to have a look around for a bit to relax, and I ended up buying that book I told you came out yesterday.”
Your girlfriend’s frown deepens.
“Isn’t that a sequel to a book you haven’t read yet?”
“Yes,” you whisper a little embarrassed “I know it was a stupid decision, but I really wanted to buy it in that moment. Then I just felt bad because I had spent money on something I don’t even know if I’ll like.”
You feel yourself blush at the admission and hide your face in your hands.
“Hey,” you hear your girlfriend quietly say in your ear while she wraps her arms around your waist “There’s really no need to be embarrassed, ¿vale? You bought something you wanted after having a fairly stressful day at work. I promise you it’s not the end of the world, mi amor.”
With each word she says you begin to slowly relax in her arms.
You turn around and take her face in your hands.
“How do you always know what to say?”
“Because I love you and I know you better than I know myself,” she answers placing a kiss in your nose “Now you’re going to take a shower, we’re going to have dinner and then we’re gonna cuddle while watching a film. Tomorrow will be a better day, princesa, I promise.”
You nod although you don’t fully believe it.
-----
When you finally lay down to watch TV with your girlfriend you can’t seem to settle. Your mind is working really fast and you’re starting to get a little bit restless.
You haven’t really thought about it until now, but what if there is something actually wrong with you? What if it isn’t just a bad day? What if all the sleepless nights, the impulsivity, the difficulty staying focused for too long and the racing thoughts are all somehow connected? There’s no way, you or someone around you would’ve realised sooner. Right?
You feel Alexia’s eyes on you when you stop the show you’re watching.
You try not to think about it too much and begin to speak.
“Do you think there’s something wrong with me?”
“What do you mean?” she asks confused.
“Never mind. Just ignore what I’ve said,” you answer shaking your head and laying down on top of your girlfriend again.
“Hey, no. None of that,” Alexia sits up with you in her lap and takes your face on her hands “What’s going on? Talk to me, please,” she begs worried.
Looking at her you realise that this is your partner, the person you’re building your future with. You are aware this is a tough thing to talk to her about but there’s no one you trust more in this world. She is your home.
“I've been feeling really overwhelmed lately, like my mind is always racing and I can't seem to focus on anything for long. I mean, it actually started a while ago, but it’s just been getting worse. I’m not sure how to explain it,” you confess.
Your girlfriend takes both of your hands and smiles encouragingly at you.
“Try. I’m listening and whatever it is I’m here for you, okay? Always, te lo prometo.”
“Okay, so, have you notice how I always seem to jump from one thing to another without actually finishing anything? I've tried making to-do lists and setting reminders, but nothing seems to work. And that’s just one of the things, you know? But it’s also not being able to sit still for more than five minutes and acting always so impulsive. And it's starting to affect everything I do. I just-” you take a deep breath “I’m always so frustrated. I just want to be able to be like everyone else, but it's like my brain is wired differently.”
“How long has this been going on?” Alexia asks concerned.
“I don’t know. A few months, I think.”
Your girlfriend lets go of your hands and holds your face instead making you look into her eyes.
“Mi amor, listen to me. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with you. Yes, your brain may work a little bit different but that doesn’t mean you’re stupid or broken, ¿vale? It's okay to feel overwhelmed, and it's good that you're talking about it. But I really need you to understand that. What do you want to do now?”
“I’m not sure, I wasn’t even planning on telling you to be honest,” you admit feeling yourself blushing.
“Maybe it could be helpful to talk to a professional about all of this?” Alexia suggest “Whatever you feel comfortable doing.”
You shrug and hide your face on her neck.
“Yeah, I guess. You promise me you’re not going anywhere?”
Your girlfriend kisses your forehead before answering.
“I'm here for you no matter what, we will figure this out. Thank you for sharing this with me, princesa.”
“Thank you for listening to me,” you whisper just for the two of you “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
-----
Maybe I'll write a sequel to this but I'm not really sure. Let me know what you think! <3
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skylarsblue · 1 year
Text
✦Incorrect C.o.D Quotes, AGAIN AGAIN✦
Ghost: Release me, woman. Fem!Y/N: …. *hugs him tighter* :3 Ghost, scared of intimacy: UNHAND ME!- -- (Comedic Death Mention) Someone: I shot you six times hOW ARE YOU ALIVE?! Y/N: Fool! The only one that’s gonna knock me off is ME! Price: *PANICKING*
-- Gaz: What did you do? Soap: ….suckdickonaccident Gaz: What? Soap: Sucked dick on accident! Gaz: HOW THE FUCK DO YOU SU-
-- Gaz: Here. We’ll put your phone on the aux- Y/N: NO DON’T- Speakers on full volume: FUCKFUCKFUCKMEUPANDCUTCUTCU- Price: JESUS BLOODY CHRIST *shuts off radio* Soap: *scratching the inside of his ear* Steamin’ Jesus- Y/N: I tried to warn you! Gaz: Who listens to Slipknot at 0900?! Ghost: *raises hand* Gaz: That’s- okay that’s fair. Soap: I’ve gone deaf. Y/N: You’re a bomb tech, it was gonna happen eventually. Soap: *middle finger* Price: *disappointed sigh* It’s too early for this-
-- (This one’s kinda sad but I couldn't stop thinkin' bout it-) Alejandro: You used to be nice…or did you never used to be? Valeria: … Alejandro: Oh god…maybe you never used to be…
-- Not a quote but if any of you have heard that audio that’s the names of the Princes of Hell overlayed on Funky Town, please imagine Soap & Y/N dancing to the Funky Town portion while Ghost sits there menacingly. Thank you.
-- (Depression joke) Y/N: Ahaaaa I’m soooo unwell. Price: Go to the psyche- Y/N: Ya know what it never was? That serious. It was never that serious- Price: Get your ass back here- Y/N: NEVER!-
-- König: I’ll keep all my emotions right here, and then one day, I’ll die. Horangi: No-
-- (Valeria has no color here, I ran out) Valeria: *eye roll* I am not trying to seduce you. Y/N, bi panicking: …. Valeria, but now smug: Would you like me to seduce you? Y/N: *strained wheeze & squeaky* Already achieved ma’am- Gaz: *listening to a mic implanted on Y/N* God damnit dON’T LET YOUR MOMMY ISSUES RUIN THIS MISSION!
-- (These next two have mental health jokes in’em) Y/N, hyper cleaning the base: AHAHA, yes! I’m finally feeling bett- ah, wait. I’m manic, and I’m hyper cleaning everything, ✨as a diversion✨. Price: P s y c h e . Y/N: Jokes on you, old man. I already have meds for this! …might need to up them though they feel like they’ve stopped working. Price: When did you start to feel they weren’t working? Y/N: Like three months ago. Price: PSYCHE Y/N: ASKING THEM QUESTIONS ABOUT MEDS ARE SCAAAARRYYY Price: YOU KILL MEN ALMOST EVERYDAY Y/N: Fair point. (Take ya meds)
-- Price: I don’t understand you- Y/N: Good! Means you’re probably mentally well. Price: I- Gaz: We really need to like- specify when you’re joking and when you’re serious, you’re gonna give him a heart attack.
-- Gaz: …Hm. Price: You’ve been staring at me for the past six minutes, what is it?Gaz: I think you have a grey hair. Price: Y/N, speeding in: WHICH IS TOTALLY FINE, IT’S BARELY EVEN THERE AND EVEN IF YOU WERE GOING GREY IT’D LOOK FANTASTIC ON YOU. Price: …would it? Y/N: Absolutely! …*thumps Gaz in the back of the head* Gaz: Ow-Uh yeah! Yeah! Actually I don’t even think it’s there, just the lighting. Price: Hm…alright. Y/N: Mhm! *death glare* Gaz: *mouthing* I’msosorry-
-- (Will someone please notice that I write Ghost as "Simon" when he's with Soap and they're being soft? It's intentional-) Soap: I’m not really sure what I’d do if I lost you… Simon: I know what I’d do. Soap: What? Simon: I’d find you.
-- Soap: I got my ankles microwaved. Ghost: X-rayed. Soap: They took my blood away for science! Ghost: Cholesterol tests. Soap: Si had his sinuses…removed? Ghost: Looked at. Soap: Some guy looked at my penis, touched it. That was weird. Ghost, cleaning blood off a knife: That guy wasn’t even a doctor.
-- Medic!Y/N: You think killing is hard? Try healing something. That is hard, that requires patience. Alejandro, watching them bandage his hand: Hm… Medic!Y/N: You can break something in two seconds. *vaguely motions to Ghost, then Price, then at a necklace Alejandro wears that came from Valeria* But it can take forever to fix it. Alejandro: …aye…well said.
-- Gaz: *being annoying and singing a song for the 10,000th time* Price: KYLE! Gaz: I’m watchin’ my tone, dunana. I ain’t talkin’ back, no, why? Cause I’ma get thrown, dunana-
-- Graves: You know, Ghost, real talk bro, you never say nothin’ when you’re around us. Why is that? Ghost: Cause I don’t fucking like you guys.
-- Enemy: I’m gonna send you to God. Y/N: God? I’m insulted you think I’d end up in Heaven. I work hard for my sins, thank you very much. Ghost: We are hostages right now, can you please not-
-- Valeria: And guess who gets to be my little helper.~ Y/N: It’s me, I’m the helper… Valeria: That’s right, you sure are.~ Alejandro: Alright that’s enough! Valeria: What? You don’t believe in positive affirmation?
-- Rudy: Me gustan los perros. Alejandro: Me gustas… Rudy: ….hm. Me gusta un hombre en el ejército. Alejandro: Aye? Rudy: Mhm. Alejandro: *chuckles* Me gusta mi mejor amigo. Rudy: Me gustas.
(This was poorly translated but listen, I tried for the gays)
-- Price: You actually were telling the truth. Valeria: I do that quite a lot, you people are always surprised.
-- Laswell: Don’t pull any of those stunts like you did last time. Fem!Y/N: I made an offering. Laswell: You dropped a dead mouse into that poor man’s lap. Fem!Y/N: Yes! Like a cat. Laswell: You are not a cat! Fem:Y/N: No…tragically, I am a woman.
-- Ghost: Some people are simply…better than others. Graves: You really think you’re that much better than me? Ghost: Oh I think we both know the answer to that.
--
(Needing to fake a date for a mission) Y/N, on the phone: Laswell, I don’t need help with dating. I’ve been on loads of dates! Y/N: *turns and whispers to Gaz* I’ve literally been on one.
-- Enemy: Think you can answer questions without the usual level of sarcasm? Y/N: If you can ask them without the usual level of stupid. Enemy: Where’s your captain and why hasn’t anyone been able to contact him? Y/N: I dunno, I’ve been here, haven’t seen him in days. Enemy: Is he drinking again? Y/N: What do you mean again? He never had to stop. Enemy: But he did have to slow down, is he drinking like he used to? Y/N: Alright, how bout this? Next time I see him, I’ll give’im the field sobriety test, okay? We’ll do the alphabet, start with F & end with U.
-- Graves: And that’s why I personally, don’t agree with your opinion. Soap: Okay, counter point- Graves: Valid argument? Soap: No. Pipebomb!
-- Gaz: Y/N: Gaz: Y/N: Y/N: I’ma instigate. Gaz, lightly pulling them back: nnnnoooooooooo-
-- Y/N: Eeraaawr >:3 Gaz: What sound is that? Y/N: A dyianosaur Gaz: A what? Y/N: Dianoswaur. Gaz: Make the sound again. Y/N: Uurraawer Gaz: Oh you talkin’ bout them things from ✨Jerressi PerAHck✨ Y/N: AHAH! Ghost: I’m gonna lose it. Soap: Hush yer mouth, it’s cute. Lighten up ya big log.
-- Ghost: I think I’ve finally had enough. Y/N, getting his antidepressants: I think you’re full of shit.
-- Medic!Y/N: C’mon, stick with me, Ghost. Ghost: Might be time to follow my call si-OH FUCKING HELL WHY Medic!Y/N: You listen here you Fuckin’ bastard, I’m gonna love the absolute shit out of you until you never make a joke like that again. And then, if you still do it, I’ll have the team smother, smother, you in affection. And if you STILL don’t get it, THEN I’m gonna whoop your ass. Shut your perfect fucking mouth, you got that, soldier?! Ghost: ….since when did you get scary? Medic!Y/N: Adrenalin keeps people alive and sometimes we run out of epipens, had to substitute somehow.
-- Price: Now, sergent, what would you rather be? A lion or a panda? Soap: Captain, I’m me. Why would I want to be anything else? Price: I’m not sure you realize how psychologically healthy that is.
-- Ghost, pissed off: Sometimes I can’t stand you. Y/N, while walking away: Then kneel! And while you’re down there, occupy your mouth, you’d do better down there, QUIET, anyway!! Ghost: I-…… Soap: Oooooo���. Gaz: I- I-…they have no fear. None. Absolutely no survival instinct, no self preservation. None!
-- (Younger Y/N as in like…mid-late twenties. Also, this one is long. I might honestly make a lil oneshot with this one and I welcome anyone else to do the same) Y/N: John… Price: I know, I know. You love me. You’ve said it a thousand times and it should just stick, I just…can’t help but think about how you’re so… Y/N: *snort* Out of your league? Price: To put it bluntly. Y/N: Well, regardless of where I rank? I still love you. I’m going to love you for a long time, you’re stuck with me, ya sweethearted bastard. Price, fondly: Ah Dear, whatever will I do. Y/N: Yeaaaah. Besides! Even if I wasn’t completely and utterly, disgustingly, in love with you? …you are way too good of a sugar daddy to ditch. Price: Hah! Oh really? Why’s that? Y/N: Are you kidding?! Paid off house, paid off car, successful military captain, great manners, great dick, extremely attractive, good with kids, good cook, sexy voice. I could go on for awhile. Price: Oh now you’re just feedin’ my ego. Y/N: Yes, yes I am. Price: I’ll get cocky. Y/N: You’re sexy when you’re arrogant too, that doesn’t deter me. Price: *sigh* Far out of my league. Y/N: You’re a rank climber, I think you’ll keep up.
-- (NSFW but it's in a ha-ha funny way, based on a conversation I've had. Kink mentions) Soap: Look, I just...I need advice on how to spice it up in the bedroom. Y/N: Do you know how little that narrows it down? Gaz: I feel there are few options. Y/N: No there are a lot of options, it depends on your level of spice. I dunno your boundaries wit'cha man! Soap: I just need something! Y/N: THERE ARE A LOT OF THINGS! Get some handcuffs, grab a vibrator, TRY ANAL, I don't fucking know! Gaz: *chokes on drink* Soap: Okay, listen- Y/N: No, you listen. Rule of thumb with kinks? It's a mountain and there are three kinds of people on it. People who don't wanna climb, people who want to climb but choose not to, and people who stay climbing. You reach a level of kinkiness and you stay there. You can't go back down the mountain. Me, personally? I have chosen to stop climbing because I know I'll get worse. I'm choosing to stay on my part of the mountain. Where you wanna climb is up to you. Soap: Where do I climb then? Y/N: The beginner's trail is fuzzy handcuffs, orgasm control, and mirror sex. Soap: This is the weirdest advice I've ever gotten. Y/N: It's my specialty.
-- (Follow it up with an asexual joke) Graves: Are you fighting the urge to make out with me right now? Y/N: Not really, I'm really into this pizza though. Soap, in the back: Aw they burnt my fuckin' cookies! Assholes. Y/N: Karma. Soap: It is not my fault I ate the last slice of cake, I didn't know it was yours- Y/N: IT WAS LABELED! Soap: I DIDN'T SEE IT!! Graves: *slowly backs away*
-- Y/N, holding up a coffee pot: Anyone want more coffee? Price: No, we've all had ours. Y/N: *takes off the lid* Cool. Gaz: What are y-NO! Y/N: *chugging from the pot* Ghost: ...This is the peak of mental illness. Price: PUT THE DAMN POT DOWN! Soap: This is the scariest thing I've ever seen them do- Y/N: *fighting to finish the coffee as Price tries to get it away from them*
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countcvnt · 2 months
Text
Experiment
Chapter Two: Bad Dreams
[Poly!TF141/Fem!Reader]
[Ch. One]
Summary: You realize, while asleep, that just because you're out of the facility doesn't mean you're completely free. Warnings: Canon Typical Violence, mentions of blood and vomiting (nothing too graphic), Angsty Simon Word Count: ~3.5k (don't quote me on that) A/N: Was gonna wait to post this, but it's on my AO3 already (i posted this first ch. a couple days ago on there, but am just posting it here now) so i wanna post it here too. I have Covid, and time to write, so why not post it now? Hope you enjoy~ The angst is only going to pick up from here tbh
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You toss and turn in bed. Your covers are strewn across the room and you’re sweating. Your eyes are screwed shut as you lie there whimpering. You can’t even force yourself awake.
“You are not acting very nice.”
Your gaze does not even meet the scientist’s. His eyes bore into yours, but you can not force yourself to look at him. Instead, you stare at the floor. Your mind is racing, you are everywhere and nowhere all at once.
“Did you hear me?” He asks. You nod. “Then act better.” He marks something down on his clipboard and you watch him closely now. “Next time, there will be no warning. You will be punished.”
You nod again. Your hands rest on your thighs, gripping your bare thighs and shaking violently. Your whole body is shaking. At this point, you can’t think of a time you weren’t shaking. Your eyes cut from the man’s hands and up to him. You see the reflection of the bright lights of the lab in his glasses. You sniffle slightly.
“You look sick.” He looks up at you, his eyes meeting yours. You don’t look away this time. “After all this-” He motions around him. “That won’t happen anymore. You won’t have to worry about silly little sickness or your immune system at all. You know, after all of this, you will be the best.”
If it works, You think. You are almost certain you should have died by now. You have absolutely no clue what they have been injecting you with. You know it makes you sick. That’s about the extent of your knowledge. Well, you also know, you can die at any given moment. Whether the medicine or the guards around you takes you. Something can happen any time, and you just have to let it happen.
You remember lying in your ‘room’, throwing up blood and bile. No one checked on you. Not until the next round of testing. They gave you nausea medicine and you only hoped it’d work. Now, you're staring down the scientist who has ‘stuck by your side’ through all of the experiments. He is the only one who survived, you think. There have been several others. But you only saw them once or twice.
You aren’t sure if or how they died. You don’t like to think about it.
“We are going to test pain tolerance today.”
You perk up, in the least enthusiastic way possible. It caught your attention and set your skin ablaze. What does this entail? You can’t help but run through scenarios in your mind. The scientist pulls out a smaller syringe and places a needle in it. It’s full of a clear liquid. You don’t move. You’ve learned it’s best to not move.
He motions for you to hold out your arm. You do so, willingly. You’ve also learned it’s best to do as you’re told. He injects the needle into a vein and you try to stay relaxed. You whimper and shut your eyes. Suddenly, everything is on fire. Your body burns. A scream releases from your throat and you fall from the metal stool you had been sitting on. You curl up, clawing, scratching at your skin.
You begin to beg, “Please!” You scream for someone to stop it. “Please, help me!”
“Don’t worry,” His voice is so monotone. “It’ll pass. This is completely normal.”
You sit there, screaming and crying as the pain grows worse. You wonder if you yell loud enough if the guards would step in. But, so far, no one has stepped in. No. One. You can’t count on anyone. Not anymore. Your clawing slows down, the burning subsides. You relax and let out a small whimper. You sit up and inhale slowly. You slump over and look up at the man in front of you.
“Better?” He asks. You nod. “Good, now get back up.” You follow his instructions. “Now, I have a scalpel here. I’m going to poke you-” Your eyes widen. “-I’m not going to stab, or cut deep. I’m just checking pain levels.”
You sit back on the stool and hold your arm out again. The man grabs the scalpel from the side table and pokes into your arm. Blood rises and drips down. You feel pressure from the poke, but nothing else. You don’t react. You soon find out, maybe you should have.
“Hm, nothing?” Everything seems to be going according to plan for him and whoever was coordinating this. “Okay, next test.”
The scalpel is dug into your skin. Dull pain comes to the area, but you aren't feeling anything you should be feeling. You are too startled to scream. Blood rushes down your forearm and your eyes widen. You have learned to not pull away, so you stay there.
“Astounding…” He grabs the gauze from the small table and wraps your arm. “We will continue testing this in the morning.” He motions for some guards to come in. “I have to make sure that this… This is permanent.”
“If it’s not?” The words slip out.
“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”
The words, his tone, they send chills up your spine. You are grabbed, harshly, by the guards and pulled into the hallway, out of the little, ‘cozy’ lab. Your eyes adjust to the dim lights of the hall and you squint. You are dragged to your ‘room’. The guard flashes his card in front of the door and it slides open. They toss you in, you hit the floor. There is no pain this time.
You want so badly for that to be a good thing. You can’t help but feel sick to your stomach though. You crawl to your mattress and lay down. You don’t even have a cover. You sigh. You curl up and go to sleep.
You wake in a cold sweat. A scream rips from your throat and your body tenses. Your breathing is ragged and a knock is coming from your door. You look towards it. You examine your surroundings. You exhale trying to calm yourself.
“Ace!” The knocking becomes violent.
Your brows furrow. You stand from your bed and walk towards the door. You swing it open and find Gaz standing there. His eyes lock with yours, before falling to your sweaty, sticky form.
“Who’s Ace?” You ask, not caring that he is probably staring at your chest.
“Sorry,” He mumbles and tries to close your door. “I shouldn’t-”
“No,” You swat at his hand, opening the door further. “Who is Ace?” A cool breeze hits your bare legs and you realize why he’s being so funny. Your mouth forms an ‘o’ and you step back. You remember that you’re wearing your tank top and panties. You grab your shorts and throw them on. “I’m Ace, aren’t I?” You finally ask.
“That is… Was your call sign.”
You notice Gaz swallow hard. You can’t help but wonder what has him so shook up. He had to have seen some thighs and cleavage before. It registers, he must not have seen yours. You make note of that.
“It’s okay, Gaz,” You reassure him, “I promise it’s fine if you look at me.” You’re trying to not laugh. You can’t help but smile though. His eyes cut from the floor and up to you.
“Are you laughing at me?” He asks, you can see him grow embarrassed and irritated.
“You’re being silly,” Your smile widens. You watch Gaz relax. You cock your head. “Acting like I’m the first pair of thighs you’ve seen in your life.”
Gaz groans. “You don’t like-” He stops himself. “You used to not be comfortable with us seeing you like this. I don’t wanna overstep any boundaries.”
“You’re very sweet, Kyle.” He lights up as you call him by his name. “I do remember being that way though… I had always been that way ever since I can remember.” Which isn’t very much, you decide it would be best to not joke about that though. “But, I guess becoming a little lab rat kinda nipped that in the bud.”
Gaz doesn’t ask further questions. “I came to check on you, because you’re thirty minutes late.”
“Let me guess,” you purse your lips, “I used to never be late.”
Gaz is at a loss for words. “Well, no! You and Price were always first at debriefings.”
You note that as well. “I guess I need to change?” You question him. Gaz keeps from dropping eye contact. You are sure you need to change. Going to whatever you needed to go to, with nothing but a tank top and shorts on would probably not be the best look on your first real day back. “I’m fucking with you, Gaz.” You turn from him and he huffs. You grab some clothes from the dresser. Gaz excuses himself and you decide it’s best to not fuck with him further.
As he closes your door, you begin to mentally prepare yourself for what the day holds. You know you’ll be digging up old memories. You know recent wounds will resurface. You have to prepare now. You run through different questions and answers.
You're on autopilot as you get dressed. You finish up and walk back towards your door. You swing it open and find Gaz waiting. “Oh, you’re still here.”
“Figured you’d need help finding the room. Unless you don’t-”
“No, no,” You interrupt, “I don’t- I don’t know where the room is.” Having to admit that hurts. Gaz catches that. He doesn’t say anything further. You follow him down the hall and through a corridor. You reach a double door and Gaz lets you in first. You spot Price, then Soap, then Ghost. Every last one of them seems uncomfortable.
You walk into the middle of the room and stand there. The door closes behind Gaz and he walks up beside you. You stand there waiting for anyone to say something. No one breaks the silence, so you decide to.
“I don’t think I like sleeping alone.” You look at Price. “I haven’t- I didn’t have a roommate in the-” You keep stopping yourself. “It’s been a while since I’ve had a roommate. I don’t know how I'd react to one. But I can not sleep alone.”
Price nods. “That can be fixed.” He is reassuring. “We'll get you set up with-”
“I want it to be one of you.” You interrupt him. All of them tense. “I know I don't remember much of anything… but you four seem to know me the best. I want it to be one of you four.” You nod to yourself as you say the last sentence.
“Do you have a preference?” Price seems like he isn't judging who you pick, but you can't help but feel like they're all judging which one you pick.
“How about-” You place a finger on your chin. “We could alternate?”
“Alternate sleeping arrangements?” Ghost speaks up.
“That can be arranged.” Price nods. “We can talk more about that later. We really need to figure out what you do know.”
“Easy,” you shrug, “I know I have a mom and dad- We moved a lot growing up. I know that I used to be self conscious.” You remember this morning.
“Used to be?” Soap asks.
“Well, yeah, being stuck in a lab changes a person.” The whole room becomes uncomfortable. “Sorry…”
“It's alright, love,” Gaz pats you on the back, and you look at him. You don't tense. You don't attack. You just stare. Your stomach flips out how he says ‘love’. “But that's not what he meant. Do you have any information on what was happening?”
You inhale slowly and close your eyes. “Okay. I don't know where I was. But I do know people came and… uh went. A lot. Do I know where they went? No. I'm assuming the guards took care of them. It was too important for people to just come and go as they pleased. The experiments were too-” You pause. “Classified. But the scientist that was with me when Soap saved me, that was my main scientist. I never got anyone's name. They said I would get, uh, stuff like that if the experiments fully worked. I'm not sure they ever had it work though-”
“On others?” Ghost interrupts. You nod. “There were others?”
“Yeah. I mean, I think so. I overheard a couple times, of different,” you pause again, thinking of what they called you, “subjects just… dying. In reality, I don't know why I'm not dead. I also believe there were more because I was dubbed Subject Five. There were, I assume, four before me. Unless they just wanted to call me Five.” You shrug, growing uncomfortable. “I do know, for a fact, they were only getting military personnel.”
“Dae ye ken how come thay picked ye?” Soap is about as uncomfortable as you are now.
“Not entirely. But the scientist had said that I was compliant. I was… pliable, that is the word he used when I walked in for the very first round of testing. He didn't want me. He made that very known. But he had me, so he did everything he could to make everything work. It wasn't always smooth. But,” you shrug, “it is what it is.”
You see Ghost shift. He looks angry. It's making you more uncomfortable. “What do you mean, it wasn't always smooth?”
“The testing was extensive. The amount of times I've been poked and jabbed is unknown at this point. I mean,” you roll your head to the side, exposing your neck, “I have little scars littering my body from… everything.”
Price can tell you're growing tense. “Have you eaten this morning?”
“Not hungry.” You respond, trying to seem as normal as possible. “But, I would like to shower… I haven't had a hot shower in, uh, four months. I only ever got cold ones.”
“One of us can show you where-”
“No, no,” you wave your hand, “I saw it earlier. I'm sure I can find it myself. You four probably have a lot to talk about. I'll be out of your hair now.” You force a smile.
You exit the room and head back to your room. That probably wasn't going to be your room much longer. You grab some clothes and head towards the showers.
Your head hurts and you want nothing but to sit in hot steam and scrub yourself under scalding hot water. You make your way into the showers and find it empty. You sigh. You go into one of the little showers and close the door. You turn on the water and relax as the warmth hits you. You groan and roll your head back. It's the nicest you have felt in months. ——————————— Simon has not felt so angry in so long. He wants to find who did this to you and kill them. Every single one of them. The way you had seemed to shrink when talking about what happened. How you look to be a shell of your former self. And how you probably don't even remember your former self.
“What do you mean we are going to alternate sleeping arrangements?” Johnny asks. Simon wants to know how it’s going to work too.
“That’s up to her.” Price finally says. “I’m assuming she’ll pick one of us to stay with during the night. We can change it every night. Or however often she needs.”
Simon needs you to pick him. But, he also hopes you don’t. Your last interaction with him has seemed to have left a horrible taste in his mouth. He wants to protect you so badly, still. Maybe you don’t need it now, or anymore. But he has to. Even if you don’t remember what happened.
“Simon,” Price’s voice is low, soft, reassuring. “This is not your fault.”
“You keep saying that.” He growls. “You weren’t there. I was. End of story.”
Simon plays the night over and over in his head. Every day. Ever since you were taken. The night at the safe house. It was you and him… It could have been him they snatched up. But it had to be you. He can’t stop thinking about how differently it could have been if it were him they took. He isn’t so pliable… His blood is boiling.
“Ghost,” Johnny speaks, bringing him back down, “she’s okay now.” He places a hand on Simon’s shoulder and tries to reassure him. Everyone is so reassuring… Simon wishes they would stop. He isn’t used to not being able to contain himself. And yet, here he stood. Seething. Ready to bash the heads in of anyone who even thought about bringing harm to you. He can’t take it.
“Fuck this.” He needs to clear his head. “I gotta go.”
Price, Johnny, and Kyle let him leave. Simon thinks maybe a hot shower would help him as well. He inhales deeply as he walks towards the showers. The door swings open and Simon realizes there is only one shower running. Good. All he can hear is water. Steam covers the room. It’s practically a sauna. The water stops running.
Then he hears it. Soft humming. A hum he knows he’s heard before.
Memories are flooding back. Your fingers running through his hair, his head on your chest, and your soft hums the only thing he can hear. Suddenly he can’t breathe. He’s frozen. He’s moving in autopilot momentarily. He’s making his way towards you. He spots you. A towel is wrapped tightly around you and your back is to him. Your hums turn to singing and Simon reaches you. He opens his mouth to speak and he realizes too late he has startled you.
He’s reaching for your shoulder when your hand grabs him. You swing him around and slam him into the concrete wall. Every bit of breath is knocked out of Simon. Your hand is on his throat and your eyes are dark. Simon notes they’re way darker than he’s ever seen.
“Oh. It’s you.”
“You’re in the men’s showers.”
Simon watches as your face drops. You look around. “No one was in here. I didn’t- My brain was too foggy.”
Simon’s hands are up. He relaxes as you let him go and his eyes don’t leave yours as you fix the towel covering you. His eyes briefly drop and he looks at the scars littering your skin. You were right. They’re mostly smaller scars, but there is one on your forearm, right under the bend of your elbow. There was force behind that one.
“Should have let us show you where it was.” He smiles under his mask. You look embarrassed. “I’ll make sure no one comes in, if you wanna get dressed, love.”
It slips out. Naturally. He tenses as the word leaves his lips. Love… His back is to you as you get dressed. He does not dare peek. As he begins to relax, words leave your mouth causing him to tense all over again.
“Ghost?”
He wants you to call him Simon. “Hm.”
“Gaz called me ‘love’ earlier too… I know it’s a British thing, but the way you both said it-” Simon tenses as you pause. “What were we? All of us?”
Simon really does not know how to answer that. He can easily tell you about him and Johnny, or about Price and Gaz. But you? Fuck, it was confusing. He didn’t entirely know what you were with the others. But he did know the both of you were close. But, never like that…
He says your name. His eyes shut. “That’s complicated.”
“Hm…” He hears you hum. “You can turn around now.”
Simon turns to find you approaching him. You’re dressed and holding your towel in your hands. “Sorry about earlier… I don’t know what happened. I didn’t know it was you-”
“It’s fine.” Simon motions for you to walk in front of him, letting you leave before him. He watches you closely. He wonders if you can feel his eyes on you. If you can, you don’t say anything. Simon wants nothing more than to reach out, rest his hand on the small of your back, and walk you to where you’re going. He refrains.
“I’m sort of hungry now…” Your words bring Simon back. “Can you show me to the cafeteria?”
Simon nods, “Of course.”
He walks in front of you. His body begins to lead the way, while his brain is stuck on you slamming him into the wall. He can’t stop thinking about it now. Processing it. You looked absolutely feral, and a little terrified. He tenses, his fingers curling into his palms, as he thinks about what happened to you to make you that way.
Simon doesn’t want to have to go through the pain of remembering certain things. But he hopes that if you do remember who snatched you up, that you will tell him who it was. So that he can cause them just as much turmoil.
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hansolsfearofbugs · 9 months
Text
Skz- Before He Confesses
little things they do while they have a crush on you, sfw
huyng line edition - Bang Chan, Lee Know, Changbin, Hyunjin
maknae line
part 2- how he confesses: hyung line
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Chan
finds himself looking out for you like he does for the members
little things like making sure to set some of your favorite snacks aside (yes he payed attention) before the members get to them
or packing an extra hoodie in case you get cold (this one's not totally selfless...he can't deny how much he likes seeing you in his clothes)
this is more of a thing that'd happen when y'all are in a relationship but he would absolutely hold you in a way where he could hear your heartbeat
that hairtie you left lying around that one time? he's keeping it on his wrist in case you ever need it
sticking with that theme: he would remember all of the little things you've told him about yourself
he would know your favorite food, restaurants, places, clothing brands, books, tv shows, movies, colors, jewelry, and anything else
tries to casually slip his knowledge of these things into conversations hoping to impress you
would overthink every text he sends you
like he would draft everything in his notes app, read it over to make sure there's no typos and that theres the right balance of exclamation points so he doesn't seem to angry, but not so many that it's weird, and would have to take a deep breath before sending you anything
one of the members definitely found the note in his phone with all the drafted messages and he got so much shit for it lol
watches videos of you two over and over again while smiling like an idiot
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Lee Minho
finds himself talking to soonie, doongie, and dori about you
"she's just funny and sweet"
"meow"
"exactlyyy"
is scared to get caught staring at you so he purposefully looks down when he's near you which just makes it more obvious that he likes you
this is what gets him caught by the members
is reduced to a quiet, blushing mess when the members confront him about his feelings for you
stalks your social media to figure out what music you're listening too
makes a playlist titled "her" with all the songs you like and listens to it to feel closer to you
will purposefully mix your songs in with his when he has the aux to impress you
so happy when he sees you smiling and singing along to one of your songs
brings you coffee and pastries in the morning but doesn't actually have the courage to give them to you in person
just leaves them by your stuff with a little note so you know it's for you :)
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seo changbin
changbin is absolutely the type to become your boy bsf to get close to you
is there to listen or give you advice on everything
#1 outfit advice friend
i mean he's not necessarily the best at outfit advice but it's the enthusiasm that counts
gets so happy when you send him pics of different outfits and ask for his opinons
thinks you look so pretty in everything you send him
purposefully "accidentally" matches with you now that he knows what you're wearing
stands close to you whenever you're in group settings and will stare down any guy he catches checking you out
tries to "accidentally" make physical contact whenever he can
hand gently on your waist as he walks past you
knees brushing together under the table
grabbing your hands when he's excited
touches your shoulder when laughing
you're the only one thats allowed to call him binnie
the members heard you call him binnie and when he just let it happen they were so confused
that's how they figured out he liked you
they teased the hell out of him for it
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hwang hyunjin
catches all his sketches turning into you
what can he say? you're his muse
daydreams romantic scenarios with you before he falls asleep
his personal favorite is slow dancing with you on an empty stage in the moonlight after everyone else has left
has made several paintings and sketches of that exact scenario
will sketch pretty flowers on napkins when y'all are out as gifts for you
has a collection of book quotes and songs that remind him of you
purposefully shows off a bit in dance practice whenever he knows you're watching
has a talent for finding you in a crowd if you go to a performance
takes note of the jewelry you wear and buys himself pieces in similar styles so he can match with you
has read every book and watched every tv show he's ever heard you talk about
always asks you to do up his tie for him when he's getting ready for awards shows
doodles on your arm when he's bored
likes to sit next to you while he sketches or reads and you get work done
doesn't bother him that its quiet, he just likes to be in your presence
steals glances at you while you're reading or working because he thinks you look extra pretty while you're concentrating
a/n: if you enjoyed this check out the maknae line version!
check out part 2- how they confess: hyung line
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indigovigilance · 7 months
Text
Neil Gaiman's 3 cameos
"But Neil only has one cameo, it's in the movie theater!" Come now. What show are we watching? There is not just one cameo. There are three. The first one is...
The one that actually happened:
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but then there is also...
The one that was supposed to happen, but didn't:
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See those two people in the background? Lower left-hand corner of the screen? By rights, that should have been Neil and Terry, but Terry was taken from us too soon. Neil wrote this scene intending to do the cameo by himself, in honor of his friend, but on that day couldn't bring himself to do it:
Terry Pratchett and I, had a standing… not even a standing joke, just a standing plan, that we were going to have sushi - there was going to be a scene in Good Omens where sushi was eaten and we were gonna be extras, we were gonna sit in the background, eating sushi while it was done. And I was so looking forward to this and, so I wrote this scene with it being sushi, even though Terry was gone, with that in mind and I thought: Oh, I’ll sit and I’ll eat lots of sushi as an extra, this will be my scene as an extra, I’ll just be in the background. And then, on the day, or a couple of days before, I realized that I couldn’t do it. [...] it was written for Terry and all of the sushi meals we’d ever had and all of the strange way that sushi ran through Good Omens.
The fact that the scene exists at all, I think, can be taken as a cameo. I would interpret it as one of Neil's cameos, since he wrote it as a self-insert of an important aspect of his relationship to the work, but it is also Terry's cameo. Focusing on the empty space where something ought to be is itself a representation of what is missing; there is something to be said for drawing attention to absence, which is what our knowledge of how this scene came to be accomplishes.
There's no good way for me to transition to the next part of this meta other than to encourage you to take a deep breath and remember that Terry Pratchett has been immortalized by this and other works. He is beloved, and not forgotten, and lives on in our hearts, and we honor him by celebrating his works not only in mourning but in the full range of emotion that his works inspired in us, including laughter.
Because this next part is just silly.
Neil's AU Gary Stu cameo:
Neil Gaiman has told the story multiple times about how a careers advisor tried to redirect his life course from storytelling to... *shudder* accountancy. Here's one quote [source]:
Gaiman: I very much wanted to write comics. I remember as a kid, I was 15, and I had a meeting with an outside careers adviser. I was asked, “OK, well, what do you want to be?” And I said, “Well, I really want to write American comics.” There was a long pause, and then the outside careers adviser said, “Well, how do you go about doing that then?” I said, “You’re the careers adviser. You tell me.” And then there was another seriously long pause, and the adviser said, “Have you ever thought about accountancy?” I said, “No, I have never thought about accountancy.” And then we just sat and stared at each other.
We are all very lucky that teenager!Neil decided to completely disregard this advice, but Good Omens S1E2 contains a character that seems to resemble who Neil would have become (or thought he would have become) if he had let that careers advisor drag him into a life of bean-counting mundanity.
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We may not see Neil's face in this scene, but we do get to experience his existential dread of the what if: what if I had never become a storyteller? What if I had listened to that wanker, and lived a life without following my dreams?
I'd say it counts as a cameo.
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calisources · 2 months
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𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐔𝐀𝐋 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐄𝐗𝐔𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐐𝐔𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒.
All these quotes are taken from different works of fiction and depict sensual, sexual tension between two people in different scenarios. There are some that are suggestive while others are more detail so this meme is nsft and usft, please tag accordingly. Mentions of jealousy, possessiveness, sex, fantasies are all here. Change pronouns, names, locations as you see fit.
I knew the first moment I saw him that it was going to be raw, it was going to be ugly, and I was going to enjoy every damn minute of it.
You're still looking.
You make it hard to look away.
I'm over here keeping my hands and memories to myself because you asked me to, that’s not fair.
If you'd just man up and admit there's something between us, I would strip down to my skin so you could see every single inch of me.
How long are you going to make me wait?
How awfully presumptuous of you to think I'd let you.
You missed my arrogance almost as much as I missed your impudence, little one.
You said not to fall for you. Did you change your mind?
We both needed to blow off some steam, and we did, right?
They say the colour of a lady’s lips is an exact match to another region on the body?
You're too soft.
Can we go back to making out now?
You sound jealous.
Then tell me this is what you truly want. Swear you want this more than anything else and I'll never mention it again.
If you want me to play the bawd, at least give me the benefit of your advice.
Tell me how it's done. Do you think she'd like it if I came to her like this, if I looked deeply in to her eyes?
And then like this? Is this how I ought to seduce her?
You're wet, aren't you?
You drove me mad.
She asked me not to be gentle with her, either,I would have been gentle with you, though.
I would have had you moaning my name throughout it all. And I would have taken a very, very long time, Feyre.
I'm all yours to look at, you know.
You need to let me go, darling, before we start something I intend to finish.
Feel free to touch, darling. It's all yours.
. . .I hate you.
Say it again.
Grind it. Nice and fine.
I gave him a few smiles and he handed over a family heirloom. I bet he'd give me the keys to his territory if I showed up wearing those undergarments.
Why shouldn't I? You seem to have difficulty not staring at me day and night.
Am I supposed to deny, that I find you attractive?
Is that a challenge, Feyre?
Do you think it's fair that you have seen every inch of me, and I have seen none of you?
Move with me now.
Touch me anywhere you please.
I want you to make love to me.
Do you know what that truly means?
You do know? You know that I will be inside you and that I will move inside you, until we are both mad from pleasure?
I want you inside me.
You have three minutes to get ready now.
I did dream about you. I didn’t want to, but I did.
What was I doing in your dreams?
Someone is watching us through the window.
All the more reason to put on a good show.
You're not in a position to make demands.
The best things are found in the most secret places.
And you are a beautiful, sexy temptress who is about to be fucked by a man who wants her so desperately he's willing to do anything to have her.
When I'm with a woman, it's not me doing the begging.
You're rubbing yourself all over me. What did you think was going to happen?
I thought you were all about self-control.
I remember how powerful those thighs are.
You are more beautiful than I imagined.
And your skin... Christ, it shimmers like gold.
I'm naked underneath.
Tell me----did it get you off knowing I was watching?
I want to take you under the moonlight.
Please, don’t stop.
Oh, so I shouldn’t? That would be cruel of me, wouldn’t it?
I am the cruelest man you will ever meet, but, I will make you feel so good, you will not care.
I’ve never been with a man before.
You do bad things to me, Carrie. Very bad things.
And you, Miss, are no lady.
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myuminji · 1 year
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Just a comic about two people catching up again [Angel AU]
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[ID: A Trigun comic of Wolfwood after his death in Trigun Maximum.
Abbreviated ID: Wolfwood is now an angel with wings and a halo tied to his grave. He cannot be seen or heard by others, but Livio visited his grave and mostly filled him in on the finale, and Wolfwood waits for Vash to show up. When he does, Wolfwood is stunned and worried by his black hair, though he deems Vash fine when he pulls out drinks for them both.
Vash pours the drinks and talks. He confesses that he killed someone and calls himself a coward and the worst, apologizing for being selfish and not saving Wolfwood. Wolfwood angrily shouts that everything was his decision, and Vash is an idiot for blaming himself.
He says that Vash has done so much for Wolfwood and for others, and he calls Vash brave. Vash falls asleep with tears in his eyes, but he seems lighter when he wakes up. Vash leaves, promising to return, and Wolfwood says that he'll "watch him from afar... again." The title is "#1 'What happened to your hair?'". Full ID below readmore in 21 paragraphs.
The comic starts with a dark, noise-filter panel of the Punisher being used as Wolfwood's gravestone, with the quote "Nicholas D. Wolfwood has died" written over it.
Below that is Wolfwood, who has wings and a halo. He sits pensively and narrates, "At least, that's what everyone has come to believe, including me. Yet here I am, still roaming on this damn barren planet... But I wouldn't say I'm quite alive anymore. Since I couldn't feel hunger or thirst like I used to." He thinks, "'Ghost,' like those horror stories was it?"
He narrates over sketchy panels of himself frowning while floating next to his grave and yelling at Livio. "There, are other things I found that fits the term, like how I can't bring myself to far too far from my grave, or how others can't see me at all." We see Livio tearing up and saying "Nico-nii..." while Wolfwood furiously waves his arms and shouts, "I am!! Here!!!!"
Livio is shown speaking with a teary smile while Wolfwood leans against Punisher and listens. Wolfwood says, "Livio is the first and only person I've met so far. And luckily, he was quite a storyteller. I was able to get a grasp of the situation, and its aftermath. And what happened to him in the end."
Livio smiles and says, "It's been three months ever since... But even if we couldn't get ahold of him now, I'm sure he'll come back to you someday." Wolfwood narrates, "—And knowing that idiot, he probably would."
A close-up of Vash's coat in the wind as Wolfwood narrates, "So it didn't come as a surprise to me when he visited my grave. I'd even thought up of things to say when we meet again. Everything was thrown out of the window when he appears, of course. I could vividly remember the one question that burns in my head..."
Wolfwood looks shocked as Vash, hair fully black, waves cheerfully, "Yo! It's been a while, hasn't it? Wolfwood." Below the two floats the question: "#1 'What happened to your hair?'"
Wolfwood sweats, "Spikey, your hair. Doesn't it mean... Are you okay???" Vash smiles sheepishly, "Ah, I hope you're not mad I didn't come sooner, don't haunt me please..." Wolfwood shouts, "That's not the problem right now!!" Vash pulls something out and exclaims, "But look what I got for you!! Alcohol!!!" Wolfwood shouts, "What sort of person do you see me as!?"
Vash excitedly pulls out a bottle and two shot glasses. "It's not the only reason why I'm late, but it did took me a month to hunt this down... I recall you said you wanted to try them, right?" Wolfwood buries his face in his hands and says, "Where the hell are your priorities... You know what, yeah. I'm not gonna ask anymore since you look fine."
Vash smiles a bit tiredly and says, "Hmm,, I'm glad this place hasn't turn to ruins yet~ I've still got lots I need to tell you that's happened out there! And I thought it's better to talk about it with drinks on the side…" He clinks two glasses together. "So, cheers! ..."
He and Wolfwood are both awkwardly silent, and Vash sweats and frowns nervously. Then he pours a glass onto the ground, and Wolfwood furiously shouts, "D'ya really expect me to drink off the ground!? Stupid needle noggin!!!!!"
Vash laughs sheepishly, and he speaks via empty speech bubbles while Wolfwood listens, drinking with a small smile. Vash says, "... And when that happened I..." He drops his gaze and says between long pauses, "I..... When that happened......" Wolfwood watches him seriously as he says, "... Say. Wolfwood, is this how you've felt all the time?"
Vash looks down sadly. "You I see, I... killed someone in the end." He laughs, eyebrows drawn in. "I guess you're right. I am bound to choose someday." He takes another sip, then downs it and falls backwards. "Isn't it funny? That I've called you a coward once for killing... But guess who's the coward now~? It's always been me, isn't it?"
Vash lies on his back and laughs. "... Haha. I wonder if you're laughing too. I really am the worst, aren't I?" Wolfwood looks down as Vash continues, "You've done so much for me, but all I've caused you are troubles. I was selfish, always chasing after my own goals... That you couldn't ask for my help. That I couldn't save you. Just what kind of friend am I?"
Vash scrubs his eyes with an arm and says shakily, "Sorry... Wolfwood... I'm so sorry..." A close-up panel of his mouth shows Wolfwood saying, "... Just so you know--" Expression unimpressed, he exclaims, "There's no way in hell I'm accepting that lousy apology! You drunkard!"
He stands up and seems to kick Vash, who's still on the ground and mostly out of sight. Wolfwood demands, "Why are you even sorry for something like that, huh?? I chose my own path. It was all my decision! How many times do I say it to get it stick in that thick head of yours? Stop. Blaming. Yourself. For the things. You've not done. Idiot! Stupid spikey hair!!"
Vash's face is cut off, but a tear in his eye can be seen as he weakly says, "... oof.. wood..." Wolfwood looks tired and sighs, "... Ha... Don't feel bad about me. Until when will you realise just how much you've done for us? You've done more than enough for me, Needle Noggin."
The perspective zooms out to focus on the sky and two moons, including the fifth moon. Wolfwood's wings and the Punisher can just be seen at the bottom. Wolfwood says, "And you're brave, to go against what you've been taught your whole life. You're not a coward. You faced them until the end. So don't sell yourself short like that next time, okay?" We see Vash's face, smiling with tears in his closed eyes. Wolfwood concludes: "I'll get mad."
Wolfwood narrates, "—He passed out right after for the whole night on the cold ground. I realised how little I could help in the situation." He tries to drape his coat over Vash, sweating, and wonders, "Wouldn't it just pass through ...?"
Time passes, and Vash gets up with a sneeze and rubs his eyes. Wolfwood watches him with his eyebrows raised, and Vash laughs quietly and a bit nervously. Wolfwood narrates, "As if he'd heard my voice, a burden seems to be lifted off his shoulder when he woke up. That, or maybe he'd forgotten what happened last night. He was quick to take his leave right after.
"And so, Vash the Stampede went on a journey with a promise." Vash waves goodbye, turning to leave with his bag in hand. "I'll be sure to bring back more stuff next time!! See you later!" Wolfwood concludes, "While I watch him from afar... again." Wolfwood sits below the Punisher and waves back, saying with bemusement, "Has he never heard the phrase 'do not disturb the death?' He really throws me off..." The title is named, and it says "/ END." End ID]
[link to Image ID reblog post!]
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msbluebell · 5 months
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How We Fall For People Like James Somerton
We're all joking, but this James Somerton thing has me really fucked up.
I wasn't a huge fan of James. I saw a few of his videos and liked them. In the ones I saw he was calm and explained things straightforwardly and even the one or two times he said things against white women...well, that's language I've been seeing on Tumblr since I joined back in my tweenage years. I thought it was just a dismissive joke pointing out a frank reality.
I didn't watch him too much. Just a few videos. I kept meaning to watch more, but I didn't because sometimes I wanted something easier. But I regarded him sell because of how informed he seemed.
And that's the thing, isn't it? He SEEMED informed. He spoke confidently and sometimes quoted queer sounding articles and I trusted him blindly. And why? Because he was giving me information that SEEMED well researched.
Illumanaughtii too. I WAS a consistent fan of hers before other youtubers came out. Because she presented information really well and I like hand drawn characters and because she read academic sounding quotes. I trusted her and her information was stollen. And I feel like a fool for ever having trusted her now, but at least her stollen facts were apparently accurate. Maybe.
James though, he straight up lied. Todd in the Shadows went through a lot of effort to expose those lies. He did so much research that I didn't bother to do. And he admitted he only did it because he happened to know people more informed than him that noticed the lies and went down a rabbit hole.
And maybe if I was more involved I would have noticed. But that's beside the point. what's getting me is I didn't bother to check myself, I just blindly trusted.
And the worst part is I can see why it happened.
I work.
I work, and then I get home, and when I get home I stress. I stress about work I have to do tomorrow, or classes, or finding a new job that actually pays a livable wage. And to escape that stress I go online to AO3, or tumblr, but especially Youtube.
Because I like youtube, I like to have noise in the background while I work. I like to listen to things while I read. And some of the time it's ASMR videos, or watching someone cook something. But mostly? It's history things or video essays.
And when I'm working, or reading, I'll hear a fact, and I'll look up, and I'll think "Huh, that's interesting to know, I didn't know that." And I won't think anything about it.
Because I'm busy, or I'm tired. I'm tired from work, and I don't want to do more work. Or sometimes it's mental health. This is my coping mechanism. I'm trying to learn things, do something to distract myself. I'm not looking to disprove things.
In other words I'm lazy. Or, if I'm being kind to myself, I'm tired.
Maybe if the topic was something I was an expert in I would have noticed. I'm a former ballerina, I'm a failed history major dropout. Maybe if he'd said something like "Holodomor never happened" or "Boudica is a Finnish folk hero" I'd have noticed. Maybe.
But he didn't, and I didn't notice. I assumed he did the work, and why?
Because surely a gay man wouldn't spend hours on youtube talking about Queer history if he wasn't passionate. Because he, a queer man, would surely know about queer history. Surely he wouldn't want to spread lies and hate. And he's quoting from books and articles so why wouldn't I trust him?
My trust was blind and unfounded.
And now I'm reeling from that. I'm reeling because I'm starting to feel like I can't trust a lot of people. How can I listen to any Youtuber casually now?
I can't, I never should have assumed I could.
Now every informative video feels like I need to do tens of hours of research just to be sure what I'm hearing is true. I feel like I can't trust anything unless I do.
James Somerton took my trust.
And it's not only that either. That's not what scares me the most. It's that there are THOUSANDS of people like me. Millions like me. Who are learning something from a video or a tweet or a tumblr post from someone they assume is an expert and are blindly trusting because they assume they can trust it. They don't intend to do their own research because they're tired, or don't know how. And that scars me. I was a history major, I studied tyrants and misinformation and the rise of propaganda, and I, with all my tools to notice, was still blind.
You cannot blindly trust a video, you cannot blindly trust a tweet, you especially cannot blindly trust a tumblr post.
YOU ARE NOT IMMUNE TO PROPOGANDA
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madaqueue · 10 days
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Lost Cherry
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pairing: yuta okkotsu x f!reader
themes/content: dark content. yandere/stalking. non-curse modern college au. language, smut. scent kink (?), alcohol consumption, drugging (no nsfw during), oral (f receiving), semi-public sex. 18+, MDNI
word count: 2.8k
a/n: "i love this guy and whatever undiagnosed anxiety disorder he has" is my fav yuta quote i've ever heard and honestly...me too (and yeah this is based off the tom ford perfume what about it)
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Yuta noticed everything about you. How could he not, when the essence of perfection, an angel reincarnate, was here before him?
He truly saw you, his dark eyes boring into your soul as he soaked in your every move, every reaction, every thought.
When you met him your freshman year of college you thought he was sweet, albeit a little strange, his intense gaze putting you slightly on edge for a reason you couldn’t quite pin down. But nevertheless he was always the perfect gentleman, holding every door for you, driving you to class when it rained, bringing you your favorite foods when you were sick. He did it without question, as though caring about you came second nature to him, like it was his one true state of being.
The two of you continued growing closer over the years, sleeping on each other’s couches when study nights ran long, going to concerts of a band you loved together, cooking your favorite foods. It was almost uncanny how similar you two were, sharing the same taste in everything, Yuta’s smile never faltering as you gawked at him in disbelief when he recognized the obscure reference you made or when he happened to guess your coffee order. “I guess it’s just fate,” he’d grin as you laughed in awe.
But it’s not fate, he thinks. Fate would never be so careless as to risk letting you slip from his grasp; no, it was him. Time and time again he outsmarted the universe, foiling its plans to separate you. He knows you because he sees you, understands you, in a way no one else ever will (he’ll make sure of that). It wasn’t hard, really - he was always naturally observant, calculated, patient. All he needed to get close to you was a few chance meetings, accidental run-ins, where he could show you just how much he cares about you. And you, being as sweet and kind as you are, fell right into his open arms.
He loves you because he sees you.
He sees the way your lips curl into a smile as you sip your drink from across a crowded bar, a slight frown forming across your features as some pathetic excuse for a man tries to speak to you, making an idiotic joke you politely laugh at; he sees how you fidget with your hands, pulling at the chipping nail polish during class, a tell-tale sign you weren’t understanding the material (and an opportunity for him to explain it to you later while you studied); he sees the way you move when you’re alone, when you think no one’s watching, when you finally let your guard down and ease into the truest form of yourself.
It’s almost like you wanted him to see you, presenting yourself to him like a book with the pages peeled open and the cover ripped off, making it impossible for him to look away. It was only natural for his eyes to wander the words of your soul, mastering the lines and sentences of what makes you you.
So it’s no surprise when he gifts you a perfume that perfectly encapsulates your energy, your essence. After months of searching he finally found one that met his standards, living up to his mental representation of who you are. He knows you’ll love it, and you do - you begin wearing it everyday, the sweet scent of your skin filling his senses whenever you step into a room. The warm, amber notes become equivalent to you, a signal of your presence, a smile gracing his lips every time it wafts by him.
The one thing he doesn’t tell you is that he bought a second bottle, just for him, his best kept secret, the cherished liquid that evokes vivid memories of your laugh, your eyes, your skin, your voice, your everything when he smells it.
It’s harmless, really, when he sprays it on his pillow to help him fall asleep, calmness immediately washing over him as he pictures you there, holding him. He could practically feel the warmth of your body in his empty room, imagining how your soft hands would trace his body.
And when he wakes up, the scent of you still lingering, a smile graces his face as he nuzzles into the cool pillow.
It’s not his fault when he grows dependent on it, spraying the liquid into the air as he screws his eyes shut, picturing you. The way you’d kiss him, how smooth your skin would be, how soft your lips are, how your hands would feel wrapped around his cock, how warm and tight your cunt would feel around him. As he slides his fist around his length, he can’t help but moan your name, the idea of you filling his mind.
You.
One word, all-consuming. You occupy his thoughts, cloud his mind in bliss, every waking second. He loves you, he loves you, he loves you.
So when he sees you at a house party, wrapping your arms around his neck as you go in for a hug, why the fuck do you smell different?
“New perfume?” he asks, trying to hide how visibly taken aback he is as he pulls away from you.
Nodding, you take a sip of the drink in your hand. “Mhm,” you hum over the music. “Friend got it f’me. Y’like it?” you slur slightly, swaying in his grasp.
“I-it’s nice,” he stutters, his fingers beginning to dig into your arms.
How could you?
Glancing down, he notices the nearly empty cup you cling to, mind racing as he formulates a plan. “Want me to get you another drink?” he asks, steadying his thoughts and tilting his head innocently, hiding the rage he feels behind his dark irises.
A soft smile tugs at the corners of your mouth, lip gloss glowing under the LEDs, as your eyes lazily make their way up to his. Reaching out a hand you ruffle his hair, placing a sticky kiss to his cheek. “You’re s’sweet Yuta,” you murmur against his skin, holding your glass out for him to take.
This would be sweet, if it wasn’t for the vile, traitorous perfume that suddenly overwhelms his senses. It’s too floral, too dry, too not you.
“Be right back,” he purrs, placing a kiss to the top of your head before stepping away, afraid that if he stayed any longer he would do something he regrets.
Besides, he can’t pass up this opportunity: he gets to show you he can take care of you, how much he adores you, and get rid of the chance that anyone thinks they know you like he does.
When he returns, you don’t even notice the weird taste in your drink; why would you? You trust him, like you should. When your body starts to feel too heavy, legs struggling to keep you up, you lean on him, like you should. When your head begins pounding and you just want to lay down, you let him take you home, like you should.
In the comfort of your apartment, one all too familiar to him, he helps you change into pajamas before bundling you up under the blankets of your bed. You look so sweet, so innocent, as your head rests against the pillow, eyelashes fluttering as you ease into sleep.
Your mind is cloudy as you rest, body still pulsing with each beat of your heart, suddenly sensing his weight shifting from where he sits at the end of your bed. “Yuta?” you whisper weakly.
He could melt just hearing you call his name, your voice like honey. “Yes?” he responds, turning his head over his shoulder to face you.
“Stay,” you murmur, reaching a hand out to him.
God, he could die happy right here. He could afford a few hours of sleeping next to you, right? It’s not like there’s any urgency now, he’s already lined everything up, now he just has to knock it down.
“Okay,” he breathes, getting under the covers next to you.
The warmth of your body envelops him as you lazily wrap your arms around his torso, uncoordinated motions to keep him, your one source of stability, close to you. Your thoughts are fuzzy as you fade into Yuta’s softness, letting him overtake your mind. Shifting his weight he leans into you, head resting on yours as you bury your face into his chest. He holds you against him, the scent of your shampoo lingering on your hair, a familiar one, a kind one.
He waits until your breathing slows, soft snores leaving your throat as you rest peacefully against him. Gingerly untangling his body from yours he rises, making his way to your bathroom. Sitting atop your counter is the target of his task: the sacrilegious bottle of perfume. It takes so little for him to knock it off the ledge, glass shattering as it hits the tile, the strong smell suddenly overwhelming the confined space, making his stomach turn as he pictures you in it. Never again.
He softly pads back to your bed, careful not to wake you as he rejoins your shared warmth under the comforter. Overwhelmingly pleased, his heart races as a contented grin spreads across his face.
When you question him about it the next morning, it’s easy to brush off.
“Yuta?” you question sleepily after you return from the bathroom, “Do you know what happened to my perfume?”
Normally the frown across your face would haunt him, tugging at his heartstrings to see you unhappy, but now it takes everything in him to not show his excitement. “Dunno,” he shrugs, “maybe you knocked it over last night?”
“Mmm, probably,” you hum, settling back in next to him as your head rests on his chest, hoping you don’t notice how his heart races at the contact, your mind still too foggy to realize you never even told him that the bottle broke. “Thanks for taking care of me last night. Sorry I got so drunk, I don’t know what happened.”
“Nothin’ to apologize for,” he reassures, his arms reaching around you, “I like taking care of you.”
“Thanks, Yu,” you murmur, nuzzling your head further into the softness of his t-shirt.
It’s so easy, he thinks. Everything with you is just that, easy: it’s easy to make you trust him, easy to look after you, easy to love you.
So when he sees you a few days later, eating lunch outside between classes, it’s easy for him to go over and sit next to you, the grass tickling his shins as he crosses his legs.
“Hi, Yuta,” you smile, your cheeks slightly rosy in the sun as you lean your head onto his shoulder.
Before he can respond, a familiar scent hits his nose, the one that is so, undeniably, you. “You smell good,” he blurts out, unable to contain his excitement.
A giggle escapes your lips at the sudden compliment, the sound soft and sweet. “Thanks,” you laugh, “it’s the perfume you got me, so I’m glad you still like it.”
“O-of course I do,” he stammers, “I picked it because it’s perfect for you.”
Looking up at him, you don’t miss the slight redness covering his face as his adoration for you begins to slip through the cracks of his resolve. All you can do is continue giggling, the most angelic sound in the world echoing in his mind, as he melts before you. “You’re too sweet, y’know that?” you ask.
Popping one of the cherries you brought for lunch into your mouth, a comfortable silence falls between you as Yuta continues staring at you in awe - how could you be so perfect? He has to stop himself from nearly drooling as he watches your tongue work the pit from the flesh of the fruit, the way your lips move absolutely tantalizing. He has to have you.
Sensing his gaze, you turn to face him. “Want one?” you ask politely, holding the bag out to him.
As you shift the richness of your perfume again wafts towards him in the breeze, tearing down any remaining walls of shame or embarrassment left encasing his feelings for you. Suddenly he leans forward, one hand going to the back of your neck as his lips crash into yours.
The kiss is messy, needy, as his tongue slides into your mouth. His body presses against yours, desperate for more of you, as you fall into the grass. His hands are everywhere, finally able to feel the one thing he’s been thinking about for years, as they roam your body.
Pulling away slightly, you breathlessly try to get his attention with a call of his name, but he doesn’t stop, only shifting his weight to kiss down your neck. Everything about you overwhelms his senses as he sucks against your skin, leaving a trail of bruises behind. His.
Your back arches off the ground as he moves lower, lips trailing kisses down your abdomen over your clothes as his palms grasp at your tits, your stomach, your ass, any part of you he can find, his touch hot. When he begins undoing the button to your shorts, a wave of panic overtakes you as you process what he wants.
“Y-Yuta,” you stutter, your hand reaching down to tilt his chin up, forcing him to face you. As he does, your face flushes at just how feral he looks, his pupils blown wide and lips parted as he pants expectantly.
“Please,” he whispers, “need to taste you,” his eyes moving back between your legs as he continues removing your shorts.
“B-but-” you begin, worried about the chance of being seen if someone were to walk past the small field you sat in, your gaze moving across the open space.
“There’s no one here,” he explains without looking up, sensing your nervousness. “I’ll make you feel s’good, I promise.”
Glancing around, you confirm the absence of any other students or professors, biting your lower lip nervously as you acquiesce.
Frankly, Yuta didn’t care if there was anyone around - once he started, he couldn’t stop.
He tugs your pants off, pausing only momentarily to admire the wet spot in your panties before pulling the flimsy material out of the way, his mouth attaching to your cunt. He moans as his tongue meets your folds, so much better than he could’ve imagined. The sound vibrating against your skin elicits a sharp gasp from you, your hands instinctively reaching down to his hair.
“Yuta,” you whine as his tongue glides up you.
God, he loves the way you say his name; he needs to hear it again.
His palms trace down your body to hold onto your thighs tightly, nearly leaving more bruises against your skin as he pulls you impossibly closer to him. Swirling around your clit he whines as your hips move up, desperate for more friction, his heart swelling at the idea that you need him just as badly as he needs you.
After years of loving you he knows just what to do, exactly how to move to make you feel good, his compendium of your body finally paying off. Slipping his tongue into you, another whimper escapes his throat as you moan his name. Bringing one hand down he roughly circles your clit with his thumb, using the exact pattern he’s seen you do more times than he could count, one he knows is guaranteed to bring you closer and closer and closer.
As your grip on his hair tightens, he knows it’s working.
His mind is flooded with you, your smell, your taste, your sounds, your everything. He loves it, he wants to crawl inside you and live in your heart forever, just like you’ve done with his. He wants to make a home in the corner of your mind, getting to see the most private and intimate thoughts you have that not even he could be privy to.
The only thing tethering him to reality is your soft voice calling his name, the most soothing rhythm in the world as your body begins to shake, heat building as you approach your release.
“Yuta,” you whimper, “m’close.”
Warmth spreads across his body, knowing he’s the one making you feel good, taking care of you, loving you, like nobody else ever could. His motions pick up, messily grinding his tongue against your cunt as you pull him into you. Everywhere he presses feels like flames, heat pricking over every inch of your body.
His name leaves your lips like a prayer as you come undone on his tongue, a series of whines reverberating against you from Yuta as he continues messily lapping you up, desperate for anything more you’re willing to give him.
When he finally pulls his face away from between your legs he’s immediately back on top of you, his lips pressing into yours with the same feral desire. His breath is hot against yours as you taste yourself on him, the entire thing overwhelming your mind as your body comes down from its high.
Pausing for only a moment, his eyes flutter open as he looks down at you, a gentle sheen of sweat across your features, grass surrounding your hair, cheeks a soft pink. Everything about you so, absolutely, undeniably perfect.
“Mine,” he whispers to himself, so quietly you nearly don’t catch it, before his lips are on yours again.
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