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ssahotchnerr · 3 months

Text

public displays of affection - aaron hotchner x reader

the aaron take on the derek/penelope workplace seminar (episode of reference: 9x12)

cw; bau!reader, established relationship, suggestiveness, small allusions to sex, fluff <3, bau family banter, aaron being mortified😭, references to the episode wc; 1.4k

"penny," you shut one of your files, placing it in your desktop organizer. "you're creating a draft."

"this is bad. oh so very very bad." she stammered, continuing to pace back and forth, "i'm just mentally preparing myself to be humiliated in front of the entire unit. for the second time, may i add. god, who blabbed this time?

"what did you even do?" spencer chimed in, his head lifting from his current read.

"i don't know." she exclaimed, an exasperated breath leaving her. "nothing out of the ordinary, so that means anything is possible. you," she pointed at morgan, who casually was making his way over to the rest of you. "we're in big trouble."

"this could be totally unrelated." jj reassured her. you agreed, giving penelope a nod and a hopeful smile. "there was no footnote on what this meeting consisted of."

"well, there was no footnote last time. and to this day, i still get asked what flarpy blunderguff means." she huffed, crossing her arms and turning towards derek. "i love you my hunk of a man, but this. this is a nightmare."

as two began rolling around, the bullpen filled in anticipation for the seminar, a light hum in the room as conversations were exchanged back and forth in waiting.

in addition, a presence soon stilled beside you. one always familiar, but surprising under the current circumstances.

"what are you doing here?" you looked up to find aaron's gentle eyes. he took a seat on the edge of your desk, just behind your chair.

meetings like these - usually below aaron's pay grade. he hadn't needed to attend the last, infamous meeting for instance, HR meetings were normally things he had prior knowledge of, or simply not worth his valuable time as unit chief.

"i got the email as well." aaron's hand found the back of your neck, his fingers comfortably kneading into your always-tense muscles. every so often, his hand would brush to your shoulder, and then back again.

"oh no," penelope slapped onto derek's arm, the smack covered up by slim buzz within the vicinity. "what did we do?"

"looks like we're about to find out." dave stated, his eyes following the woman who had just entered the bullpen, moving to the front.

the notorious HR lady of the bureau, nancy, sauntered over to the large presentation screen set before the clusters of desks. not wasting a second to get down to business, she turned toward the crowd of eager agents.

"thank you all for your attendance and time, this shouldn't take too long." she started, poised and head held high.

penelope took a deep breath.

"this afternoon's presentation," nancy clicked a button on her remote, displaying the title page. "public displays of affection."

oh no.

aaron's hand, which had continued to smooth out the stiffness in your neck, halted immediately.

"as you all- most are well and should be aware, keeping conduct professional in the workplace is a must to prevent disruptions within the environment. displays of affection - examples upcoming - can cause extreme feelings of uncomfortableness amongst your colleagues, and can be distracting nonetheless. all of which, creates a...."

just as last time, she clicked her remote. and adjacent to penelope and derek's presentation, in big letters across the top:

"hostile work environment."

derek immediately snorted under his breath, inviting others to openly laugh as well. despite the urge to shoot daggers at him, you were utterly incapable of pulling your attention away from the front.

it wasn't a top secret ordeal - everyone could infer the pair this presentation was centered around, and be correct.

"and so," nancy exhaled a breath, her eyes darting in your and aaron's shared direction for a smidge second, causing the heat to grow in your face and body. "i urge everyone to refrain from the following,"

similar to yours, aaron's face burned, comparable in color to his tie. he let out a nearly inaudible, nervous cough from above you.

"sitting on one's lap, while working on caseloads - not appropriate."

more laughter rippled through the division.

"oh god." you mumbled under your breath, uncomfortably crossing a leg over the other as your palm covered the bottom half of your face.

contrary to the present belief, aaron was a stickler on pda.

for the first few months of your relationship, he hadn't dared to touch your arm, back, anything in order to maintain such affection within the field; it was reserved for closed doors at home only. he loved you, but he wanted to uphold his reputable professional nature.

but as time moved forward and your relationship progressed, he hadn't gotten sloppy, per se, but more relaxed or lenient was a better way to put it.

some displays were accidental by habit. if he wanted to give you a quick peck, depending on the situation and setting, he would. seated beside each other, he would lovingly squeeze your thigh under the table, if you needed the encouragement or if you made him proud in some regard. if he were feeling frisky one day - sure he would do something, just to rile you up for later, to each of your benefit. so on and so forth.

and if he was initiating affection, you took that as the all-clear to do the same. in variation, of course.

so more often than not, it was in private. just not... always. and the lock on aaron's office door often came in handy for that.

"prolonged kisses in the bullpen, elevator, not appropriate."

once. you were caught once in a (very) heated kiss in the elevator.

as you and aaron cowered in embarrassment, both dave and morgan looked far too amused for their own good. the rest of the team - raised, entertained eyebrows, tossing glances to one another while trying to constrain their laughter.

nancy swallowed, as if she needed strength to deliver the next point, "grabbing one's behind when going up the stairs, not appropriate."

another mortified cough exited aaron.

she went on, giving more examples of affection aaron and you were completely guilty of. and if just one singular time wasn't enough, she went-forth on the explanation that such displays can cause a barrier within the workplace.

when you thought it would never cease, nancy finally delivered her ending statement, "save it for home people, thank you."

and with that, as well as the screen darkening, everyone disbanded, low murmurs and chuckles filling the room as each went about their usual routine.

you looked up at aaron in absolute horror, whose face was currently in his hand. but even that didn't hide the blush brewing within his face, his ears flushed wildly as well.

you reached up, grabbing his wrist to pry his hand away.

"nuh uh uh," derek grinned as he wiggled his index finger at the two of you, imitating nancy to a tee. "not appropriate."

"you hush." you got to your feet, allowing you to remove his hand more easily. you cautiously prolonged your hold, brushing your thumb across his knuckles before letting it drop. "aaron?"

his brown eyes found yours, full of embarrassment. "that was..."

"humiliating?"

he nodded, his head accelerating in speed with each nod, "yeah. that's the term i would use."

"oh you poor dears." penelope breathed out, the one compassionate member of the team.

"damn." emily chuckled.

derek cackled again, clearly not ready to let this go. honestly, he probably never would. "thought we didn't notice when you pulled the blinds in the office, did ya?"

aaron gave him a pointed glare, putting a very quick end to the conversation. just as the rest, the team carried on with their remaining work for the day - you and aaron remaining frozen in place.

but surprisingly enough, a laugh did escape him, shaking through his chest. "guess i have to tone it down a little, huh?"

"oh thank god," you blurted out and exhaled in relief, a small smile forming on your lips. "i thought this would cause an avoidance arrangement or something." you teased - partially.

"of course not. some reservation, maybe, but not avoidance." aaron laughed quietly again, a sigh escaping him.

"that was bad, wasn't it?" a slightly pinched expression took form on your face, your cheeks tinting once more.

"it wasn't... good." aaron admitted with some hesitation, but his brown eyes still glowed despite the lines of troublesome. his hand found yours - after scanning that no one was paying attention to the two of you - giving it a squeeze. "but hey, out of problems to have, i'd take showing my love for you any day."

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x you #criminal minds drabble #aaron hotchner drabble #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfiction #hotch imagine #criminal minds x fem!reader

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sexydoffyman · 2 months

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Could I maybe get an NSFW alphabet plz with male reader? Thanks!

NSFW ALPHABET - KÖNIG

navigation

genre: smut

characters: König

A/n: a friend pf mine pronounces his name like qwajnk.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Oh boy. He doesn't really seem like it but he really fucking likes cuddles. He definitely uses his height to his advantage. (You're getting grounded, literary) He is a little self-conscious after sex. He knows he's big. He also knows he could hurt you pretty badly. Thoughts of you hating him or losing interest fill his head. He just has to grab you and make sure you stay there with him.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He loves his arms. You can grab on them, and it makes them seem even bigger than they already are. He likes putting you in a chokehold.

What he favours the most in you are your legs. Thighs specifically. He doesn't really have a reason for it. He just likes them. Let the man get some thighs.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Average texture, not super thick, but also not watery. Hex - f3f5e6 Big man big load. Usually pulls out and catches it in his hand. (He doesn't want to add work by having to clean anything up) He also doesn't really want you to swallow it. He is mature he doesn't need a porn actor who will do anything to satisfy a dude. He'd rather have real sex.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He doesn't fit in a fleshlight. He's pretty embarrassed about the whole thing.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

He's over 40. Definitely has a pretty big body count. About 27 I'd say. (counting one-night stands) He finally found someone on whom he can use his knowledge on.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Spooning or the seashell.

When he spoons you he can put you in a chokehold, making you fight back a little. On the other hand, when he bends your legs you won't be able to fucking move.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Serious but not a nerd kinda serious. He just doesn't speak much.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He keeps a solid bush on there. (He does make sure to clean it properly) It is not messy. He's got a little thicker happy trail. And he's a pretty brunet down there.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He can be pretty brutal both with his actions and with his words. Or he can be soft with both. It depends on both of your moods.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

This testosterone-filled man definitely jerks off. Even when you are around (Doesn't try to hide it)

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Being in control. I mean, can you blame him. He has the perfect body and occupation for it. Speaking of body.

Size difference. Again it just feels right.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He could fuck anywhere. Even tho he likes it the most from the safety of your bedroom he wouldn't mind a public bathroom or a friend's bedroom. He likes to be sneaky. Has never been caught once.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Anything.

Do anything he's hard instantly. That's why he jerks off so much.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

If you want it he wants it. Except threesomes. He wants you for himself. Who could blame him when he has such a pretty thing only for him. Why would he share

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Receiving. He isn't bad at giving but he can use his hands and dick way better than his mought.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Fast and rough all the way. He loves to be in control and he's got all this raw strength and energy. Why not use it?

He also likes the slow and sensual. Both of you need a break sometimes.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He'd go for them more often, but he doesn't really want to bother you. Another reason for him jerking off a lot.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He’s always pulling you to the side, finding a place to make you take him. He is obsessed of holding the door to make sure no one gets in.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

This dude. Bruv can go as long as you can go. He will take you to the stars and back and it’ll take him only a minute to catch his breath.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Not a fan of them. He’d rather have you on his dick not some plastic. He doesn’t find much pleasure in them either.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Based on his mood.

He could play with you as he holds you down.

Or he could be quick about it.

He for sure doesn’t mind teasing you. Touching your thigh is his favourite way to do so.

V = Volume (how loud are they, what sounds they make, etc.)

He is dead silent. Sometimes it freaks you out. But if he finds out you enjoy the sounds he makes he will definitely try to add more of ‘em

Slight sighing when he lays his body on yours, little grunts and the occasional “fuck”

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He’s into stalking. It doesn’t matter of it’s you stalking him or the other way around. He loves the thrill.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

7.5 inches abnormaly thick. #e0ae82 base #ba7f68 tip. Slightly curved to the left.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Boy can go anywhere anytime. Public bathroom, bed, a random fucking room. He’s always thinking of it. Hard 24/7

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He likes to talk a bit afterwards but he will fall asleep like a baby right after he’s done.

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monzabee · 1 year

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hot girls support 44 – lh44

masterlist

Summary: The one where your husband realises that you are, indeed, his number one fan.

Pairing: lewis hamiton x wife!reader

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: cursing? (i’m not even sure), and a whole lot of fluff

Request: “Hi can you do we’re Lewis Hamilton wife is with him to see one of his races but she leaves the garage for some reason and over hears someone talking bad about her husband and she snaps and tells them straight and Lewis is watching her from a distance like damn that’s my wife”

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! i don’t know if this classifies as a drabble but let’s just pretend it does because i realised that i can’t write anything under 1k? this was a very fun request to work on, so thank you to anon, and i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms.

Both you and Lewis are private people when it came to your relationship. It has always been that way, with him leading a lifestyle in front of the cameras, and you preferring to stay away from those said cameras as much as you can. Over time, you both developed a rhythm, a delicate balance between Lewis's public persona and your desire for privacy. It was an unspoken agreement, an understanding that you valued above all else.. You knew how much Lewis's racing career meant to him, and you admired his ability to excel under the constant scrutiny. And in return, Lewis respected your wish for a quieter, more intimate life together. It was this mutual respect that solidified the foundation of your relationship, allowing it to thrive despite the challenges that fame and attention often brought.

That is not to say that you guys were completely private, of course. You’ve had your fair share of events the two of you attended as a couple, as well as races, but Lewis is always mindful of the fact that you don’t want cameras in your faces. In the early days of your relationship, the media had tried to capture glimpses of your relationship, eager to uncover every detail and learn more about the woman who finally made him give up his bachelor status. However, Lewis, being the fiercely protective partner that he was, had firmly set boundaries to shield your personal life from the prying eyes of the world. He cherished the sanctity of your bond and understood the importance of keeping certain moments sacred and away from the public eye.

The two of you have a special routine for the race days where you decide to join him on the track – you mainly spend your time inside the Mercedes garage, instead of lingering around where the cameras are most likely to be. However, you make sure to leave the garage for celebrations for those races where Lewis is up on the podium, celebrating him with the people who support him every step along the way whom he appreciates immensely; while the podium celebrations were reserved for the public eye, the garage held its own intimate victories. It was here that you celebrated the milestones and shared the unspoken triumphs, basking in the knowledge that your presence was an unwavering pillar of support for Lewis. But for the most part, you’re happy with your routine – it’s safe, familiar and it has worked for a very long time. So you don’t really know why you decided to take Roscoe on an impromptu tour of the paddock, especially when he gives you that look which clearly says that he would rather be taking his afternoon nap.

It's a good day despite the chaos everyone on the paddock seems to be in, but then again, there’s only a few hours until the qualifying session. So, in hopes of avoiding the human traffic, you decide to take Roscoe to a more secluded area in the back. As you walk, Roscoe happily wagging his tail by your side, you take in the sights and sounds of the paddock. The familiar smell of rubber and gasoline fills the air, mingling with the excited murmurs of fans and the distant roar of engines. It's a world you've come to know and appreciate, even if from a slightly different perspective. Lost in your thoughts, you suddenly hear voices growing louder as you approach a group of people gathered in conversation. Curiosity gets the better of you, and you slow your pace, intending to discreetly eavesdrop before continuing on your way. But as you get closer, you realize the topic of their conversation hits closer to home than you expected.

In hindsight, you know better to get involved in situations which might cause you to bother yourself with rude, petty people, but when it concerns your husband and everything that he has worked hard his entire life for, you don’t even hesitate. With the fierce protectiveness you feel inside, you clear your throat to get the attention of the engineers, “Excuse me,” you say as you give them a (fake) smile, “could you repeat that again, please?”

The group falls silent, their faces registering surprise and perhaps a touch of embarrassment. They exchange glances, seemingly unsure of how to respond to your unexpected intrusion. “We just meant that–” The man is quickly silenced by one of his friends elbowing him in the side.

You ignore the silent ow that comes from the man’s mouth and give the trio a stare down. “Well, I guess everybody is entitled to their opinions.” Your sweet smile and dulcet tone is enough to think them that everything is fine, but you’re quick to continue voicing your thoughts, “But that doesn’t give you the right to undermine a man’s hard work, especially when he has broken record after record and don’t even get me started on the fact that not only he is a pioneer in this sport, he is also a role model and inspiration to many and has impact beyond the track.” You let a frustrated hum, “Also, have some respect, the guy is an eight-time world champion.”

The guy who spoke before looks confused as he attempts to point out, “He won it seven–”

“Do you want me to let Roscoe attack you?” You ask as you point to the puppy sitting next to you, who, in hearing his name, looks up at you; all panting and happily sticking his tongue out.

Little do you know, Lewis had been watching the entire scene unfold from a distance, a mix of admiration and adoration in his eyes. He waits until the engineers leave in a hurry, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed on his chest. A smile tugs at the corners of Lewis's lips as he watches you handle the situation with such grace and confidence. As you turn around, ready to head back to the safety of the Mercedes garage, your eyes meet his, and a surge of warmth fills your heart. Walking towards you, Lewis closes the distance between you, his steps purposeful and full of pride. His arms quickly find their place on your waist as he mumbles, “Damn, that’s my wife.”

You roll your eyes at his antics, your face quickly mirroring the smile he gives to you. “Didn’t you see the sign? Apparently, ‘hot girls support 44’.”

“Is that so?” He hums, letting his hands wonder towards the back pockets of your jeans as he continuously presses kisses along your jaw, “It’s definitely right.”

As Lewis's lips trail along your jawline, sending shivers down your spine, you playfully swat at his chest. "Behave, Mr. World Champion. We're in a public place," you whisper, trying to suppress the laughter bubbling up inside you.

Lewis chuckles softly, his eyes sparkling with love and mischief. "Can't help it, love. Seeing you stand up for me like that, it's a turn-on," he teases, his voice laced with admiration. "But you're right, let's save the public displays of affection for later."

With a shared understanding and a silent promise, you and Lewis turn, making your way back to the familiar comfort of the Mercedes garage. In each other's presence, you find solace and strength, ready to face whatever lies ahead. And as Roscoe happily trots beside you, you can't help but feel grateful for the extraordinary life you share with the man who has captured your heart, both on and off the track.

#monzabee #requests open #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 smut #formula 1 #fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton imagine #imagine #fluff #angst #smut #lewis hamilton smut #lewis hamilton fluff

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highvern · 7 months

Text

Drunk Goggles (Heart Eyes) II [morning after]

Pairing: Kim Mingyu x reader

Genre: fluff, idiots in love

Warnings: tooth rotting fluff, friends to lovers, confessions, hand holding and smooches

Length: ~1k

Note: Sequel to Drunk Goggles ! its short but i will probably keep updating/editing it because im a perfectionist and never happy with any of my writing. I have two more drafts for them that I'm editing right now and then I'll probably focus on something new! In other news, Mingyu makes me wanna slut him out put a ring on his finger so bad

When morning comes, you wake to the soft light of dawn gently illuminating your bedroom and a nasty headache. You brave opening your eyes to search for Mingyu, easily locating his large form as he lays on his back on the other side of the bed. Flailing across the short distance between you, you burrow down into his chest and throw a leg over his hips to steal some of his heat against the morning chill. Finger tips trace gentle circles against the smooth skin of his tummy, letting you enjoying the rise and fall of his chest.

Like you were thrown in an ice bath, everything from last night comes racing forward. You remember it all. How you both stayed within a foot radius of one another all night, clinging to each other in the sweltering heat of the club. All the brushes of lips against skin, becoming more and more daring as the night dragged on. Worst of all, right before you passed out, how you whispered all your feelings into his shoulder and sealed them with a kiss.

Today. You think. You need to talk to Mingyu today.

But as he continues to snore quietly above you, you're lulled back to sleep and away from the ocean of nerves that threatens to drown you.

The second time you wake is to a hand gently carding through your hair, carefully working away the tangles from tossing and turning through the night. Another hand is tracing the ridges and valleys of your knuckles on your hand laid across his sternum. With a deep inhale, you stretch against Mingyu to let him know you're awake, yawning as you blink against the sun.

"Sorry," He croaks. "didn't mean to wake you."

"It's fine," you assure, voice still thick with sleep.

“We should talk.” He sighs

“Okay.” You whisper.

“I–,” Mingyu starts, the pep talk he gave himself for the past thirty minutes dissolving on his tongue. He swallows in an attempt to get his nerve back but you beat him to the punch.

“Ireallylikeyou.”

The silence is deafening.

You both knew. Painfully aware of your own feelings as well as each other's. The issue time and time again wasn’t the lack of knowledge of how the other felt but the dread that if you said something and it didn’t work out you’d lose each other forever. But after last night neither of you care to keep up the charade. Mingyu wants to call you his girlfriend, take you to dinner with his family, hold your hand in public and parade you around for everyone to see how lucky he is. And you're in the same exact boat. You want to tell anyone who will listen about how amazing he is, not just as Mingyu your friend but as Mingyu your boyfriend; let him be the first person you see in the morning and last at night; let all the fantasies that play in a loop in your head become a reality.

“I like you too.” He finally breathes, weight lifted off his shoulders.

It's fascinating how such life altering confessions don't change anything as much as you think it will. For months, you thought that the day you both confessed would make the world start spinning in reverse or the sun would fall out of the sky. But the room is as calm as it was before you shared your thoughts. Sheets ruffling gently to the swirl of the overhead fan droning above you. Outside, cars bustle on the street while the family of birds living in the tree next to your window sing their morning hymn. If you strain your ears then you can hear your downstairs neighbors returning from their morning walk with their yappy dog. Today is like every other Saturday morning but nothing like them at the same time.

“Yeah?” You smile, unable to look at him just yet. Instead you turn your face into his pec, trying to contain the giddiness bubbling under your skin like sea foam.

“Yeah.” Mingyu responds, sighing in relief. He wraps his arms around you snuggly, holding you close while his heart drums wildly in his chest.

When Mingyu decides to rest his lips against your hair, you giggle like a schoolgirl. It can’t be helped. You just confessed to Mingyu like you were two sixteen year olds and it makes you giddy. He likes you.

“What’s so funny?”

“You like me.” You sing, smile blinding.

Your head is turning towards Mingyu’s, catching the way his eyes crinkle and mouth twists in delight. He’s laughing as well, flustered by the morning’s developments.

“You like me too!” Mingyu accuses.

“I know.” Your face softens as you lose your breath. "Isn't it great?"

“So," he starts, suddenly bashful under your gaze. "Does this mean I can count breakfast today as our first date?”

God, he’s so cute it hurts.

“You absolutely can.”

The smiles threatening to split both of your faces in half make kissing difficult but you figure it out pretty quickly.

When you arrive at the entrance of the farmers market hours later, Ms. Kwon observes you and Mingyu as you stroll to her booth. She notes the way your hands are tangled together, faces bright red, sneaking shy glances at each other. Interesting, she thinks.

Testing the waters, she asks if your boyfriend is going to buy the usual bouquet of wildflowers he gets you every Saturday. You don’t rebuke her use of the word "boyfriend" this time, instead sharing a small yes. When Mingyu responds with an even more ridiculously happy expression than the one he strode in with, she hides a knowing smile. Mr. Lee, who sells fresh pastries further down the market, owes her dinner.

#svthub #kim mingyu #mingyu x reader #kim mingyu x reader #mingyu fluff #seventeen fluff #seventeen fanfic #svt imagines #svt fluff #seventeen fic #svt fanfic #svt x reader #🫡 highvern #dghe couple

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artiststarme · 7 months

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Eddie loved to read. He enjoyed immersing himself in books, letting the stories wash over him, and escaping his own reality for the imaginations of another. He adopted new personas and became someone else as he skimmed every word. He put himself in the shoes of people he could only dream of and let their lives replace the problems in his.

On the other hand, Steve hated reading. He sat alone for hours staring at words without meaning with letters that floated through paper and dripped from the pages. He couldn’t derive any knowledge from books nor could he enjoy the lives of the characters or the storylines of novels. As soon as the wretched piece of paper flipped, whatever contents were on it were swiped from his memory. He never understood the literary importance of any book much less hidden meanings somehow woven into the pages that the English teachers talked about.

After escaping the talons of both Vecna and the mob out for blood, the boys were left with too much time and too little to do. No one wanted to hire someone that associated with the town’s not-so-secret-teen-killer and on the off chance that they went into public, they were persecuted by their peers.

To deal with the boredom, loneliness, and restlessness alike, Eddie turned to reading. He would dive right into the words like Steve had dived into Lover’s Lake. He would adopt the lives of the characters and pretend that maybe his life wasn’t so bad after all.

Steve watched Eddie flip each page, a look of innocent wonder on his face and a hopeful smile on his lips. They couldn’t do book club or share notes on what was being read but Steve could still follow the emotion of the story through Eddie’s expressions and the trace of a finger along his jumping pulse. Eventually, Eddie would read aloud. He’d keep Steve entranced in the story with his raspy voice combing through every word. Sometimes he’s stumble, his eyes moving faster than his mouth could speak, but it was still the most satisfying thing Steve had ever heard.

On a random Thursday when they finally finish the book, Steve holds Eddie’s face in his hands and delicately kisses his lips for the first time.

“Maybe now it’s time we start our own story, Eds.”

And so they do.

#their favorite activity is sitting on the couch or laying in bed with Eddie reading and Steve dozing off #(I’m asexual and it shows lol)#the rest of the Party find it disgustingly mushy #however Steve and Eddie ignore them like they always do and make an even bigger effort to read in front of them #Eddie even starts reading the horrific romance books old ladies read to really piss them off #stranger things #steddie #ficlet #steve harrington #eddie munson

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https-furina · 9 months

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— in another lifetime ! ★ | edition: archons, version 1.0

ft. venti, zhongli & ei x fem!reader

content. heavy angst, mentions of alcohol, death, blood, details of injuries, illness. refers to their story lore. spoilers for inazuma’s archon quest.

✉️ mail received! sender: venti

you had every ounce of reason to believe that the boisterous bard was in fact not a mortal. he knew mondstadt like the back of his hand - i mean seriously, do all bards recite the crevices of a cliff face the way that he does? - and even drunk he could blabber for hours on mondstadt’s history, occasionally mentioning things that were not public knowledge.

therefore you knew you’d be swallowing yourself into a mess when you fell head over heels for that playful giggle, the lingering taste of wine on his lips between kisses and how he always seemed to reassure you so perfectly - regardless of whether you worshipped the archon of anemo or not (he doesn’t mind anyways!)

you remember the day that he finally gave up his secret well. it was carved into your memory the same way venti had every inch of his country burned into his mind, the rocks, the lakes, the trees he rustled with familiar, warm breezes as you walk under them. you’d been ill for months, seeking help from a multitude of doctors to try pinpoint exactly what was wrong - it turns out you didn’t have long left to live. in a bout of emotion, venti exposed his true identity to you underneath windrise, not far from a statue of his own person.

one attachment added!

a gasp falls from your lips, another coughing fit shaking your body as venti perches himself down beside you on the picnic blanket, his hand rubbing your back warmly. you flash him an appreciative smile, to which your boyfriend returns as he presses a kiss to your head. weakly, you raise a tissue to your mouth as you continue to cough, as if something is stuck in your throat.

it’s becoming harder to breathe and when that lump in your throat finally hacks up, the white tissue in your hand stains a bright red. venti’s eyes notice it before you do, the hairs on the back of his neck standing in a panic as his breath hitches - no, you couldn’t possibly be leaving him this soon?

it was as if celestia was mocking him for falling in love with a human in the first place. a mortal with an archon? a concept so amusing in the eyes of those who live forever. it was bad enough falling for you knowing you too would leave him one day but it was even more of a stab to his chest when you were ill with mere months left.

“windblume?” venti whispers, concerned when you don’t respond straight away. your breaths are staggered, weak and wheezing somewhat. it feels like your lungs are filling with liquid, drowning out your vital organs as you become dizzy. your vision is darkening, static around the edges as you look over at your boyfriend.

he’s crying; rivers of precious, glittering tears are dancing down pale cheeks as he stares at you in fear. there’s no reassuring him now. you know that venti has seen his fair share of death, you couldn’t lie to him in such a scenario.

“in… another lifetime, okay?” your voice cracks, you’re running out of oxygen when your chest tightens and constricts like there’s a heavy weight pressing on you, “i-i love you.”

“wait- no!” venti cries out, catching you as your body slumps forward, your eyes unblinking. he squeezes you close, burying his face into your shoulder when he can’t hear your struggled gasps for breath anymore, “i love you too…”

✉️ mail received! sender: zhongli

he figured he’d done a good job of hiding his status as an archon, especially when he tries to emphasise that he is retired - xiao will always send him a straight, deadpanned look in response to this that makes you giggle. you’d seen through it all, namely because you’d been familiar with xiao prior to meeting zhongli. you knew the last remaining yaksha well, on friendly terms.

you knew xiao wouldn’t just respond to anyone the way that he does zhongli. you’d seen first hand how the adeptus responds at the voice of the taller man - obedient and loyal. not to mention, you’d heard plenty of times when xiao stumbles on his words, referring to zhongli by his archon name before his cheeks flush and he stutters out his human name instead.

zhongli thought the idea of love mediocre. it never seemed to impress him - you suspected that there had been a past lover involved but neither xiao nor zhongli confirmed or denied your suspicions. you also knew however that zhongli had every right not to return your feelings. what would an archon ever want with a human anyways?

but the benevolent turned archon cracked under your smile and contagious energy, admitting that he was an archon the same night he had said his true feelings out loud into the night of guyun stone forest - where he had taken you to delve into liyue’s history. it was a personal favourite activity to do with you, your eyes glittering whenever he’d speak of events long ago.

sadly, zhongli knows that he had delved too deep into too many scenarios for his own good, trusting the fatui within liyue at what cost?

one attachment added!

guyun stone forest was as peaceful as ever, the waves rolling up the sand beaches in melodies you wished you could paint on a canvas. zhongli knew you particularly loved this spot - he’d offered to take you to jueyun karst this evening but you was hellbent on coming back to guyun stone forest, a harsh reminder of the archon war to the tall male.

yet as peaceful as it was, a solace that the two of you would cherish any other day, there was the struggled gasps of your breath that broke the silence, meshing with the crash of waves and the whip of the wind on liyue’s coastline.

golden eyes stare at you, panicked and dilated as he takes in the way your blood is staining your attire, painting it red in the shade of jueyun chilis - would he ever look at the specialities of his own country the same again? let alone the location that he held the most memories at, especially with you, the only one he’d truly let close again?

“zhongli?” you whisper, watching the way he’s clutching his polearm with such vigor, brandishing it in anger after having fought off your attackers. if he wasn’t wearing his gloves, you’d see the way his knuckles are turning white.

“how are you feeling? does it hurt?” his polearm clatters to the stony pebbles of the beach you stood on, the very pebbles that are splattered in blood - not just yours but of numerous fatui lackeys zhongli had put to rest in your defence. he rushes to your side, gloved hands cupping your face as he makes you look up at him.

“it burns, li,” you wince, breathing is starting to hurt. it’s starting to take its toll paired with the blood loss zhongli knows he can’t stop, “i’ll be waiting for you in our next lifetime.”

zhongli grimaces at your words, not willing to grasp the concept of you dying yet - no, he possibly couldn’t. he was prepared for much longer time with you, he couldn’t have it cut so short. but he watches the way the sparkle is dying from your eyes, chapped lips parted as shallow breaths leave them.

“perhaps, then we will get this whole thing right, my love,” he reassures, a hand falling down to your waist when your knees buckle weakly under you, protecting your fragile body from the stones below, “i love you, y/n, always.”

✉️ mail received! sender: ei

following the traveler’s escapades in inazuma, ei wandered inazuma city many days to bask in the sunlight she hadn’t seen in decades. she’d hang around a particular café, one where you worked as a waitress delivering cups of hot matcha to tables of smiling elderly couples, dying old together until their last days. ei would sink deeper into thought whenever she saw you, some days even managing to run into you when you wasn’t working - it truly was accidental!

you would be a fool to not recognise her as inazuma’s archon, to which you do. she knows this when you respond to her in polite, formal gestures and yet you never fear her. you never cower in her presence or shake and shiver. it’s a peace she had yet to experience in her time out of the plane of euthymia.

when she announces her feelings to you, under the dazzling, colourful displays of naganohara fireworks in a quiet spot of tenshukaku’s gardens, she makes it clear that you will leave this realm of existence before her - without her. you do not fear this idea either, the same way you do not fear her. ei finds it courageous that you do not fear death as others around her do.

you do fear her capabilities as an archon, the destruction she can cause in mere seconds and the enemies she makes in the blink of an eye but ei never meant for it to turn out this way, they were her enemies to deal with, not yours.

one attachment added!

“ei…?” her name falls from your lips within seconds of your attack, a red river trickling from the corner of your mouth as ei lowers you to the grass below, kneeling at your side as she holds you close in her arms.

“shh, my dear, it is okay.” ei coos, raising a shaking hand to brush her thumb against your cheek, collecting tears yet to fall from your eyes although she can see them sparkling in rhe moonlight. thunder roars over head, lightning flashing around you in the midst of ei’s anger and worry.

it is the first time she has seen you so fearful with eyes wide as you choke on your own blood, coughing it up. it splashes onto her pale skin but she does not react, watching you helplessly as her grip on you tightens.

“this is it, isn’t it?” you ask with a raspy voice, a single tear rolling down your cheek that ei wasn’t quick enough to wipe away in time. ei flashes a sad smile down at you, not wanting to say the words you crave to hear.

“you belong with me - you know that, yes?” she suddenly states, her voice firm but there’s a slight waver in her tone, “maybe in another world or lifetime but i know you belong with me.”

you choke on a sob at her words, succumbing to your injuries as they burn and sting, red drops of blood dripping to the ground below and staining blades of grass. ei presses her lips to your head in a silent reassurance, knowing that nothing she could say would bring you calm now. nothing would bring you the divinity you feel when the two of you would sit under a shared parasol in tenshukaku’s gardens or wandered in the shallow waters of inazuma’s coastlines barefooted.

ei keeps her lips pressed to your clammy skin until your sobs and cries of how painful it is subdue, leaving her with your lifeless body in her arms. only then does the woman cry, screaming out into the night sky in a battle with the thunder - who truly felt more anger in that moment? she wails, wondering if she’ll ever live without the ones she loves getting taken from her so brutally.

#꒰꒰・♡ cold cases #https-furina #genshin #genshin impact #genshin angst #genshin impact angst #genshin venti #genshin zhongli #genshin ei #ei #venti #zhongli #ei x reader #venti x reader #zhongli x reader

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fanfiction-blep · 1 year

Note

Have a nice day! I’m wondering if Miles took the wrong aphrodisiac? 🫣 Hope you run this idea one day. LOVE U, LOVE YOUR WORKS 🫶❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

Please I love this idea. Thank you so much for the love anon ❤️❤️❤️

Wrong pill~

Warnings: Horny miles, taking the wrong substance? little public sexy stuff.

Okay so lets say that have a medical draw, and you try to keep it organised but lets say you both use the pain killers regularly. Most likely due to working out regurley.

So lets say one morning you sleep in and he heads out before you to work out. And he gently wakes you up because he can't remember which packet contains the pain killers. His large hand gently nudging your shoulder, his voice soft in order to not wake you to harshly. "Hey sweetheart... where are the pain killers?" He smiles as you lift your head eyes barely open groggy voice falling from your lips. "Huh?" confusion etching its way onto your features. "The pain killers princess, where are they?" "Second draw blue box" You roll over and fall back asleep.

Miles pops two of the pills and leaves the packet on the desk near your shared bed, and head out the door and start his work day.

When you wake up maybe an hour later you pull yourself out of bed your eyes widen when you see the packet sitting on the desk. "Oh nooo" You rush over scrambling to read the title panic setting in when the realisation washed over you.

One of the scientistic had decided it was funny, assuming due to the lack of PDA shown in your relationship that you needed the 'help' of course you hadn't told Miles, you were happy with your relationship just because you weren't making out all the time didn't mean he wasn't giving you affection.

No one else noticed the light touched on the small of your back, the way he leaned against your back to read your screen over your shoulder. The way he leaves light kisses on your forehead in passing. He just doesn't like exposing those intimate moments to others, he was never the gentle affectionate guy. But with you he was different and that meant something.

So you didn't tell him because you didn't want to make him feel pressured, and now? He had taken the wrong aphrodisiac and was roaming around his work place.

You jumped out of bed and rushed to get ready. It took you half an hour to find Miles, you had only caught a glimpse. He was rushing to the nearest lockable room. You found him hunched over a table, leaking cock thrusting into his had, grunts and groans leaving his mouth. Eyebrows knitted together eyes squeezed shut, you stepped forward hoping not to scare him.

"Miles?" You spoke softly, his eyes flew open face turning to look at you. The look in his eyes was like nothing you had seen before, it was hunger and lust that actually scared you a little. He turned his body towards you backing you against the door, you turned your head to the side as he leaned in to kiss you.

You didn’t want to take advantage of him while he was “under the influence” so you placed your hands on his chest and tried to talk to him. But it was no use, in between all of your attempts to explain how he had taken the wrong pills he was growling, trying to kiss you. Palms flat against the door pinning you between his strong arms.

“Baby girl please, I need it. need ya so bad” you flush at his words, the knowledge that anyone could walk past at any time and hear his words exciting you. “Miles-” “fuck, I wanna make ya scream my name baby” “Miles I wouldn’t feel right taking advantage of you like this” you pleaded looking up at him. “Taking advantage of me? I ain’t drunk and I ain’t high. I’m hard.”

At that point he dips his head into your neck breathing in your scent. “Fuck I can’t hold back” he shifts his hips his erection rubbing against your stomach. “miles please” your voice it meek, you don’t want to fight it. He wasn’t wrong… but you still felt guilty.

“Ya wouldn’t be doing anything wrong, I’d want to fuck you any time any place but this” hi pushes his election against you again “has been buggin’ me all Mornin’ and the only thing I can think of is the way ya squeeze my cock. So please stop being all shy and be a good girl okay”

You nod giving in and kissing hun hard. He growls into your mouth tongue quickly dominating yours. He only pulled away to lean down and pull your cloths and underwear off your legs. You made eye contact with him as he rose from the position below you. His pupils weee blown wide his tongue dancing over his lips.

“Miles” he groans as he lifts you up by the back of your thighs holding you against the door. “Your gonna be screaming my name princess, wanna get fucked?” He uses his hand to guid his aching cock inside of you. He would normally take his time and allow you to adjust but he was too horny. He was too hungry.

Wasting no time he sets a fast and brutal pace. Your growing arousal creating squelching sounds as your bodies connected.

“Fuck you like this huh? You like when I’m rough with you?” He hunches over, leaning against your shoulder nipping at the skin “fuck so hard for ya baby, your doing so good for me”

“Please, sir” you whine hands holding to his shoulder and head respectfully. “Please what princess” you whine no words leaving your mouth you couldn’t form a coherent sentence. The feeling of him brushing against your insides almost too much. “Please I need to feel it” you mumble he stops his assault on your skin and looks you in the eyes.

His fingers dip down to gently stroke your clit. “Need to feel what?” A cry leaves your mouth at the new sensation. “Words princess” “wanna be filled up” he knew what you were referencing but he wanted to hear you say it “you already are greedy girl, what else could you want”

He teases you for a few minuets trying to pull the confession out of you. “Wanna feel your cum daddy!” You finally scream out back arching against him as you grew close to the edge. His pace growing sloppy a sign he too was close to an orgasm.

“Wanna cum with me baby? Gonna let me fill up a pussy?” He’s growling at this point pounding you against the door if anyone walked past they would hear you for sure.

He pushed into you roughly rubbing furiously on your clit pushing you closer and closer to the edge. Finally the coil snaps and as if on cue Quaritch stills inside of you a string of grunts catching in his throat as he cums.

You both clean up a little and go about your day.

But within half an hour he is hard again. He tracks you down quickly. You notice right away the slight strain in his pants and the look in his eyes. But you were in the middle of work. He walks over to you a hand coming to rest on your shoulder.

“(Y/N) can you come with me real quick” “I’m sorry I can’t right now give me a moment” your colleague laugh at the scene, nudging each other. Quaritch leans down to whisper against your ear.

“Baby girl don’t make me ask twice. I need you now” he nips at the top of your ear, causing you to jolt slightly at the action not expecting the normally private man to be so forward in public.

“I can’t leave right now” “fuck it” he growls leaning down further his arms pulling you over his shoulder. One hand coming to slap your arse and the other waving at the women who were previously working with you “I’ll bring her back sometime within the next 12 hour ladies”

You were to shocked but when he brought you back to your shared room he dropped you on the bed removing both your clothing in expert time.

“I’m gonna keep fucking you and filling ya up with my cum as long as I have to okay” it wasn’t a question you knew it was more of an announcement. But you nodded anyways, blushing as he climbed on top of you.

“Hold on tight baby girl, Daddy’s no where near done with ya”

#avatar #avatar 2 #miles quaritch #smut #avatar the way of water #miles quaritch smut #miles quaritch x reader #colonel quaritch #na'vi miles quaritch series #avatar way of water

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wedonthaveawhile · 6 months

Text

Crimson and Clover

Garreth Weasley x MC (18+ only)

The Weasley's are known for their hospitality when it comes to those without a place to call home. In keeping with his family values, Garreth invites MC to the Weasley Christmas party, leading to some one-on-one time in the barn.

Tags: NSFW, aged-up characters, smut with plot, semi-public sex, dirty talk, oral sex, drunk sex, snowstorm, flirty Garreth, fluff, modern dating norms.

AO3 // Word count: 5.5k

The witch crunched over patches of frosty grass as she ascended the cracked cobblestone path to the Weasley cottage. She had a suspicion Garreth may have stretched the truth regarding the number of guests his family typically hosts over Christmas. His house was tiny. Undeniably adorable, with warm light spilling from frosted iron window frames, and crooked beams nestled between cobbled bricks, but it was definitely on the snug side.

A decent amount is what he’d told her when she’d interrogated him on the headcount. In hindsight, it was a very vague answer.

She probably should've kept her holiday plans—or lack thereof—to herself, considering his family's reputation for taking in students without a place to call home, but he’s so difficult to tune out when eagerly recounting one of his ridiculous anecdotes.

“—that’s when it dawned on me that I’d spiked the barrel with a tad too much firewhisky," Garreth had regaled, his hands waving dangerously close to the dormant devil snare. "Aunt Matilda is down for the count..."

His herbology partner stifled a laugh at the thought of their conjuration professor blackout drunk, only to be jolted into panic as Garreth's flailing hands nearly triggered a response from the roots.

"Garreth, will you focus!"

"Shit, my bad," he muttered, conjuring a beam of light to repel the advancing vines. “So anyway, we’re pretty sure Aunt Matilda’s dead at this point, but then she sits up and demands we bring her a man-”

A suppressed snort lodged in her throat and she promptly choked on it, triggering Garreth to erupt into a spirited cackle.

"Alright, my little seedlings," Professor Garlick began to softly chastise. "Let's ensure each leaf in this botanical cluster gets its chance to soak in the sunlight of knowledge without being overshadowed by the noise.”

They exchanged sheepish glances before refocusing their attention on their assignment.

“What about you, how was your Hallowe'en?” Garreth asked, brushing up the scattered soil on their table and sliding it into Duncan's bag.

“Peaceful. There were moments when it felt like I had the entire castle to myself, it was perfect."

"Wait, you were here?" He swiped the back of his hand across his frown, smearing damp mud across his freckles. “Not typical for your watchdogs to let you roam alone, is it?”

She nervously stole a glance across the table. Fortunately, both Sebastian and Ominis were too immersed in their own tasks to catch the jab.

“Had I known, I would've persistently hounded you until you came to mine,” Garreth continued, “You could've witnessed drunk Professor Weasley in all her glory. Consider this an early Christmas invite."

"I appreciate it, but I actually love the calm during the holidays."

"Even over Christmas?" His brow furrowed as he struggled to grasp the idea of finding joy in silence. "What would you even do if you were on your own?"

She released a deep exhale as she contemplated her options, most scenarios revolving around the idea of staying in pyjamas all day. "I'd probably spend most of the day in bed—"

Garreth smirked, cleaning soil from his fingernails. "I could clear you a spot in mine."

She rolled her eyes, choosing to brush off his remark. He had a reputation for being a flirt but in the past few months he’d doubled down and the line was starting to blur between teasing and genuine intent.

Assuming the invitation was nothing more than a passing whim, she thought that would be the end of it, but she was mistaken. The occasional lingering glances they shared in passing—glances she typically tried to ignore—were now interpreted by him as an open invitation to approach. He relentlessly pestered her on whether she would be attending, shooting down each excuse with a stream of reasons why she should be there.

"Christmas is a family event, it would be strange for me to be there."

"Christmas at my house? Packed. Most of them? Total strangers."

"I'm dreadful at small talk. You'd have to stick to me like glue and handle all the mindless chatter."

"I'd do both of those things regardless."

She staved off his advances until early December when she ultimately surrendered just to put an end to his relentless pursuit. There were two weeks of holiday to enjoy, so giving him a few hours on Christmas Eve felt like a reasonable compromise.

She released a shaky huff of breath, the warmth curling up and misting into the crisp air, before rapping her knuckles against the weathered door. After a series of muffled footsteps, it creaked open an inch and little fingers curled around the edge. A festive melody wafted through the hallway and spilt into the front garden. Through the narrow crack, a short, pudgy-face Garreth peered out.

"Hi there," she greeted with an awkward wave, her hand hesitating mid-air as the kid gawked up at her. "Is Garreth home?"

Following an uncooperative pause, a surge of relief rolled through her as the bug-eyed child was nudged aside, and the door swung open fully at the hands of her herbology partner.

There was an undeniable tightening in her chest at the sight of him in his party attire – a dark red shirt with sleeves pushed up to his elbows and a snug sweater vest layered over it. His unruly ginger hair had been somewhat tamed by a touch of pomade, but he’d mostly retained his customary wild waves. She attempted to toss out a snarky comment about his appearance, but an articulate sentence evaded her.

"Did you walk all the way from town?" he asked, leaning his head out the front door and tracking the trail of disturbed snow left by her footsteps. "We have a floo connection in our living room, you know. You could have come straight here."

"I felt awkward showing up in the middle of your house. I didn't want to get ambushed by a grandma."

Their eyes met and a brief silence hung between them until he blinked, "You returned an egg to a Hebridean black dragon on foot, but introducing yourself to Granny Meryl has you all nervous?"

"Mind if I come in?" she brushed off his question and crossed the uneven wooden threshold into the warmth of the hallway. He only half-turned to let her through, forcing her to brush up against him as she passed. It was going to be a long night.

Maybe he hadn't exaggerated the capacity of his house - the hallway alone was the size of the exterior. Bulky coats and scattered shoes adorned one side of the expansive hallway, while the aroma of festive spices wafted from the open living room door. Beyond it, she could hear a lively cluster of voices, more than she had expected. The concept of a bustling atmosphere rather than an intimate one managed to quell her nerves slightly.

"You're looking lovely," Garreth complimented as he took her coat and added it to the hectic mountain of others. When she turned to face him, he made no attempt to hide the fact that his eyes were wandering all over her, taking in the details of her emerald dress. "Did you put in all this effort for me?"

"No, it’s for Granny Meryl.”

Garreth groaned dramatically, tossing his head back as he led her into the living room. "Granny’s power of seduction knows no bounds.”

The interior of the cottage must have been expanded for the party, it felt like it went on forever as Garreth weaved them through the horde of inebriated partygoers. One of the perks of belonging to a pureblood family: The unrestricted use of transfiguration spells as the need arose.

They ducked past a drunk aunt merrily dancing on a table with a tie fastened around her forehead which took her way too long to realise was Professor Weasley. Securing a tankard of eggnog that leaned more towards pure brandy, they sank into one of the conjured sofas by the fireplace. She felt a flutter of unease as Garreth slouched a little too close on the worn-out crimson couch. The sagging base pressed their thighs together as it slanted inward, and his arm casually draped around the back of the sofa forced her to consciously resist leaning into him.

She indulged in a few gulps of her festive brew, hoping it would work its magic in loosening her up. She wrinkled her nose at its sharp bite. "Did you have a hand in creating this? It's pure alcohol."

"No, I wasn’t allowed," Garreth sighed, his eyes momentarily losing focus as if lost in a painful memory. "Not after last time."

She wasn't sure if she wanted to dig deeper into that story, but her attention was snagged when something bounced off her leg.

"How many of these are siblings?" she questioned, observing another hyperactive child nearly tripping over her ankles in a rapid dash. For every ginger kid zipping around, a blonde or brunette was in hot pursuit. It became increasingly clear that the Weasleys had not only gathered their immediate family but also an assortment of additional strays.

"Too many. I have two older and three younger, though don’t ask me to distinguish them from my cousins because I’ve already had a bit of brandy and they all have the same face.”

“Yeah, your face.”

“The Weasley genes are strong.”

She gestured toward the gawky child she had encountered when she arrived, "Surely that one's a brother? I initially thought it was you at the door, and you'd had some of that defective potion again—the age-reversing one."

Garreth burst into laughter. "I'd forgotten about that."

“Didn't Sharp have to carry you around on his hip the entire day until it wore off?"

"What a day," he reminisced, wiping a tear from his eye. "And by the way, that's not the same kid who opened the door for you."

"What?"

"I might still have some of that potion," he dismissed her confusion, pondering aloud with a distant look in his eyes. His hand suddenly clamped down on her knee, and he turned to her with pure glee. "Let’s put it in the eggnog."

“Garreth, no.”

"You two are absolutely delightful," an elderly wizard chimed in, swaying slightly as he gestured between the two of them before delving into a nostalgic tangent about him and his wife in their prime.

She noticed she had gradually surrendered to the sinking sofa and was practically nestled in the crook of the arm Garreth had draped across the backrest, while his other hand maintained a firm grip on her knee.

"No, that's not..." she stammered, elbowing him away. "He's just my herbology partner."

“Sorry, dear?”

"She said I’m her life partner—" Garreth’s quip morphed into a yelp as her elbow found its way into his ribs.

After downing just enough alcohol to straddle the fine line between tipsy and outrageously tired, the incessant chatter in the room began to verge on overwhelming. Politely removing herself from a longwinded conversation they’d found themselves in with a rambling cousin, she slipped out into the empty hallway for a brief respite.

The main lights had been extinguished, casting the corridor in a warm glow from the floating candles scattered across high beams. She leaned back against the wall, eyes closed and absorbed the relative quiet.

The living room door scuffed against a rug, unleashing a burst of joyous music before clicking shut again. She'd chalk it up to the eggnog later, but the flickering light cast a shadow over Garreth’s gentle features, and something in her gut pulled taut.

"Are you stalking me, Weasley?" She arched an eyebrow, resisting the urge to give him a once-over.

"You did mention the only way I'd get you to come is if I stuck to you like glue," he pointed out, leaning against the wall beside her.

"Oh, fuck, did I say that?" she sighed, too tired to argue, and couldn't anyway because he was completely right. "I’m not running off, I just needed a breather."

"I didn't think you were, I just wanted to check in." He pushed himself off the wall and started pacing down the hall, brimming with too much energy to stand still. "If you need a real timeout, we could go for a walk and get lost in the snow… It’s nice and quiet out there, where sounds don't carry."

"You could phrase it in a way that doesn't sound like you're plotting my death."

"I'm ready and willing to escape these prying eyes if you are?"

She gave a nod of approval at his somewhat improved wording, then scolded herself as her slightly tipsy gaze ran down the length of his body. Her relief at his lack of comment shifted to a sense of surrender as he summoned their coats, keenly aware he would torment her with it if she declined.

Over the past hour, the snow had whipped up into a flurry, the cottage obscured in a dreamy haze as their steps left imprints on the path that weaved through the fields.

Garreth wrapped them up in a warming charm, the flakes melting into droplets before reaching their skin and trickling down the edges of the shield. It took the edge off the biting December breeze, though it fell short of providing any substantial warmth.

"What's with the feeble charm?" she shivered, answering her own question as she edged a little closer to Garreth, attempting to pilfer some body heat.

"No clue what you’re on about, I’m perfectly warm.”

"You're a liar," she declared. She had wrapped her sleeves around her fingers in an attempt to ward off the chill but let a hand emerge to press the back of it to his flushed cheek. He wasn't lying, his skin burned against her frozen fingers.

"Feel free to turn up the heat," he smirked, leaning into her touch. She thought it was an invitation to enhance the charm, but the laughter that followed his comment hinted at something more suggestive.

"You're the host—it's on you to keep me comfortable," She dropped her hand, noticing she had subconsciously homed in on the warmth radiating from his neck.

He intercepted it before it could fall limply at her side, slowly intertwining their fingers. He gave her every opportunity to pull away, but she found herself not wanting to.

"I'm glad you agreed to come," his voice stumbled for just a split second, but she caught it. Nerves.

It was endearing—a crack in his self-assured armour that stirred a feeling she’d experienced before but had always buried away—When his face lit up as she laughed at one of his one-liners. When he’d pickpocket the last red velvet cookie for her from his Quidditch meetings. When he'd spot her in a bustling crowd, bump his shoulder into hers and walk her to class.

"I'm glad you asked me a hundred and twelve times," she teased, knocking her elbow against his arm. She stole a glance back across the field to catch sight of the cottage. Despite feeling that they hadn't covered much ground, all she could discern beyond five feet was a swirl of snowflakes and shadows.

“Are you nervous?”

She snickered at his question, having weathered harsher conditions in far less pleasant company. "No, I'm fine. I like a good snowstorm."

“Well, there’s a barn up ahead if you want to take some shelter and see if it calms down before we head back.”

"A barn? Do you have cows?" Her excitement bubbled up, pushing aside any suspicion of his ulterior motives. "Or horses?"

"No, we have stables up the hill, but we rent them out to folks in the village. This is just a hay barn. Although, there's a rather charming tourist attraction inside the barn that I'd love to show you."

"You're quite eager to get me inside that barn."

He responded with a sheepish smile. "I assure you, I'm being genuine—no funny business... Unless you initiate it."

The snowfall was thickening, and she admired how effortlessly he steered them through it. The barn didn't slowly come into view—she blinked, and suddenly the red wooden structure was looming over them.

The silence closed in as Garreth slammed the door shut and blocked out the insistent howling of the wind. The hush was only disturbed by the rustle of loose straw stirred by gusts slipping through the cracks in the beams. He flicked his wand towards the loft, and the spell ignited rows of candles lining the rafters. The soft glow revealed stacks of hay bales towering toward the loft, casting stretched shadows on the dusty wooden floor.

"Isn't that a fire hazard?"

"Muggle-borns," he scoffed, as though the mere suggestion was ludicrous.

“So, where’s this tourist attraction?”

He responded with a nod, directing her attention behind her. In the heart of the hay barn, a solitary rope swing dangled from a sturdy support beam.

"Oh, shit!" She dashed toward it, gathering momentum, and caught the swing midway. The worn fibres felt abrasive against her palms as she let it bear her weight. Hooking her foot into the loop, she tilted her head back, swinging with a jumbled grace. She was sure she hadn't consumed enough eggnog to be drunk, but as she propelled herself into the air, her brain began doing cartwheels. She inhaled the earthy aroma of aged wood to ground herself.

Vibrations travelled across the beam and down through the rope as Garreth clambered up a wooden ladder into the loft. There was a moment of rustling and a few mumbled incantations before a triumphant, "Aha!"

He stumbled out from behind a barrel, wrestling with the cork on an unopened bottle of firewhisky. "One thing about having a large family," he began, attempting to mask the strain in his voice, "is that you have to get creative with your hiding places."

"So, this is where you stash your treasure? Good to know."

"Nope," the word was punctuated by a pop as the cork shot out, chipping a battered beam in the process. "This is where my brother stashes his treasure."

"Oh, so you’re that kind of brother. That makes so much sense.”

“What kind?”

“A nosy little shit.”

He raised his wand in response, and the swing slowly began to pull back. She kept her cool until she reached the point parallel to the beam, at which she let out a shriek as her stomach lurched, and she plummeted. As the swing's momentum slowed, she came to a halt breathless and laughing.

"Stop hoarding the loot," she scolded as she emerged at the top of the ladder, finding him comfortably settled against a wooden beam swigging the stolen whisky. She swept aside a few strands of straw with her foot before settling down beside him.

"Come and claim it," he goaded, holding the bottle aloft and swinging it between two fingers.

"I thought you said no funny business."

"Unless you initiated it," he reminded her, "I'm just offering you the chance to kick things off."

On any other day, she would have suppressed the ache to clamber onto his lap, but the combination of a light buzz from the alcohol and him looking like that had left her defenceless. She didn't stand a chance. She intercepted the bottle as he raised it to his lips, taking it from his grasp and straddling his thighs. He seemed caught off-guard as if he hadn't expected things to go this far.

“You've got the talk down, but when it comes to walking the walk, you seem a little skittish," she teased, savouring the sharp burn of the liquid as it coursed down her throat.

His surprise vanished beneath a confident grin. "Skittish? I'm just savouring the moment." Though he sounded sure of himself, his eyes didn't quite meet hers as he reclaimed the bottle, taking a lingering sip.

Setting the glass down with a clink, he ran his hand up the length of her thigh. "I've got you all night, maybe I just want to take my time with you."

She attempted to mask her reaction to his expectations, but judging by the self-satisfied grin on his face, she didn't do a great job. "All night? This is news to me."

"Well, it's a blizzard," he remarked, tracing random patterns on the fabric of her dress. "I can't let you walk back to the village in this. I'm a gentleman."

"I thought your living room had a floo connection," she replied, feigning a mocking tone as she repeated his words back to him.

“It’s one way.”

"Shut up," her laughter was stifled by a gust crashing against the barnyard doors. She jumped, suddenly aware anyone could walk in and catch him nestled between her legs.

"Don't look so frightened. Granny Meryl is much less likely to walk in on you screaming my name out here than in my bedroom."

She despised how much that stupid joke had turned her on, his words winding through her brain and choking out any thoughts that weren't focused on how close he was. Close enough to count each of his freckles, and how she wanted to kiss every one of them. "You seem pretty confident in your abilities."

He hummed, trailing his fingertips along her jaw. "If you're curious, all you have to do is ask."

Her fingers weaved through his hair as she kissed him. A satisfied sigh escaped her throat before she could stifle it, and her toes curled when he seized the opportunity to slide his tongue against hers. She rocked forward against his hips as he pulled her closer, shamelessly grinding against him.

"What do you want?" he whispered painfully soft, his fingers digging into the flesh of her thigh as he pulled her down, inviting her to feel more of him. He was thick and stiff between her thighs and when he rolled his hips up it sent a wave of sparks racing across her skin.

"I want this off," she demanded, tugging impatiently at the hem of his shirt, aching for the absence of any fabric between them. He briefly tore his lips from her skin to wrench it off and fling it aside. Her hands trailed over the contours of his skin, firm beneath a satisfying layer of warmth and softness.

"Your turn," he whispered, moving with painstakingly slow precision as he started to unclasp the buttons of her dress.

Timing couldn't have been more perfect, the snowstorm screamed through the cracks in the wood, but his skin was blazing against hers. Finding solace in the warmth, her freezing hands roamed across his body. Fumbling fingers traced a path downward, hungrily stumbling against his buttons.

"You haven't asked yet," he scolded, guiding her onto her back and settling between her parted legs. He took hold of her hands, rutting against them just once so she could feel how rock-hard he was before pinning them above her head with a sturdy hand. “I want to hear you ask for it.”

A surge of pride and a touch of defiance kept her from begging him to take her. After enduring months of chasing, the audacity for him to assume he would be in control of—

“Can I?” His whispered words in her ear shattered any semblance of self-preservation. He used his free hand to tease the fabric at the neckline of her unfastened dress with delicate fingertips.

She nodded with more eagerness than she'd initially intended as he peeled the fabric down her body. "See how easy it is to ask for it?" he teased, his palm brushing faintly across the sensitive curve of her breasts. Goosebumps erupted across her skin as he flicked his tongue against her taut nipple before taking it in his mouth, his velvety hum vibrating against her skin.

"Garreth," she tried to sound stern, but it escaped as a needy gasp.

"Yes, sweetheart?"

Embarrassingly, a hushed whimper shot up her throat as the affectionate name slipped off his tongue.

"Let go of my hands," her nails traced a path down the nape of his neck as he instantly complied with her demand. Abandoning any pretence of playing coy, she added, "I want it, I want you. Please."

The carnal groan that she’d coaxed from him shuddered through her and pooled between her legs. His fingers trailed up her thigh and slipped under the elastic of her underwear, eliciting a strangled whimper as he exposed the sensitive bud between her legs.

"That's it, moan for me," his touch transitioned from oversensitive to pure bliss as began he circling her clit.

"So... bossy—" Her words melted away as he slid his finger through the gloss on her skin and pushed it inside her.

"It gets you wet though, doesn't it?" he murmured, his lips latching onto her neck. Her eyes fluttered shut, head tossing back as she surrendered to the sensation of him filling her up.

Her fingernails carved into the worn-down grooves of the wooden floor as she ground against his hand. His face faltered as if his brain had shattered at the sight of her riding his hand. "Fuck, keep moving just like that."

His erection strained against his underwear, protruding from his partially undone trousers. He scrambled to free it with one hand while dipping his head between her legs. His tongue circled her clit while his fingers quickened their pace. It was an onslaught - merciless and precise, sending deep waves of pleasure winding through her body. His hungry grunts prickled against her tender skin as he began using his free hand to touch himself.

"I’m right here, you should use me for that," she whispered, watching him pleasure himself through giddy eyes.

"Come on my face, and I’ll let you have it," he slung her thighs over his speckled shoulders and began to devour her. His hands grasped at her plump thighs, pulling her tight against his eager mouth. She could faintly hear herself whining—yes, please, and don't stop.

"Oh, fuck, Garreth please," she begged louder, a shockwave coursing through her body as his fingers found their way back inside her. She clutched at his thick hair, bucking her hips against his face. He groaned appreciatively, and that eager sound forced her over the edge, her orgasm striking her like lightning. He delved his tongue inside her as she lazily rutted against it, riding out the surges of euphoria.

“Look at you, following orders," he grinned, crawling up to cage her in his arms, claiming her lips with a rough kiss, "being so good for me." He spread her legs apart with his knees and directed his arousal between her thighs. His dick gently brushed against her, and she shivered at the heightened sensitivity. "Are you ready, or do you need a moment?"

“I’m ready,” she mumbled as he positioned himself at her entrance, pushing in inch by inch. It was painfully slow and taunting, and when she tried to grab his hip, he interlocked his fingers with hers and pinned it to the floorboards.

“You want more, sweetheart?”

She couldn’t do anything but nod. The way he stretched her out felt sinful, a delicious form of sweet agony. He was vocal, each measured thrust was met with a rough groan and the noise scrambled around in her wonderfully empty skull. She arched as he gave her everything he had, he seamlessly slid his arm into the space left behind with an intoxicating roll of his hips.

"Right there, just like that," she whimpered as he struck a spot that sent shooting stars dancing across her vision.

His name dripped from her tongue like honey as he hit that spot again, driving him to thrust into her with increased force, each effort eliciting louder cries of his name.

"Oh, sweetheart, you feel like you were made for me." He came to a halt, buried to the hilt inside her as he worked a possessive love bite into her throat. "I've wanted this for so long," he confessed between each lingering suck, rocking his hips flush against hers. "Wanted you so bad. Fantasized about bending you over that herbology table. Making you scream."

She had never thought that words could bring her to the summit, especially not the words of Garreth Weasley who typically used them to irritate her. Yet, his rasping confessions were pushing her exceptionally close to the edge.

"Just—just.. stay like that," she pleaded. He was barely moving, but she felt on the verge of splintering apart from the way he was stretching her. His warm body pinned her helplessly to the ground and the unholy pressure of his cock deep inside her sent sparks radiating through her belly.

"You're trembling," he whispered as she fluttered around him. “You gonna come for me?”

"Yes," she whimpered, pulling him close for a kiss. He rocked into her and all she could do was moan as her orgasm slowly rolled through her body like a crashing wave. She had believed they were just two drunk friends giving in to some meaningless tension, but he was kissing her so slowly, stroking her face as he fucked her through each gentle pulse of her orgasm, and it was turning her to putty in his hands.

Wanting to contribute her share, she steadied her trembling legs and gave him a firm shove, rolling him onto his back.

He quickly established a pace she had no control over, gripping her hips to keep her in place so there was nothing she could do but take it. His mouth enthusiastically explored her breasts, kissing and sucking until she felt light in the head. "Do you want it?" The crack in his voice was almost too much to bear. "Want me to come inside you?"

She ran her nails through his hair as his thrusts began to falter and fall out of rhythm. "I want you to come. Please, Garreth I want it." She whispered soft encouragements in his ear, needing him to be as stimulated as had been.

He mumbled her name against her throat, his hips slapping vigorously against her soaked thighs. His head fell back, fiery red hair clinging to his sweaty temples as he grunted with each rhythmic pulse. She nestled against his warm chest, listening to the thunderous pound of his heart as he released deep inside her.

He wrapped her in his arms, and they lay together for what felt like an eternity—his fingers gently trailing through her hair might have even lulled her to sleep for a few minutes before he eventually shifted to reach for his wand.

“Sorry," he told her without a trace of remorse, muttering a few charms to clean them both up.

Clarity slowly returned to her mind, and thoughts rushed in like an avalanche. Should she head home? Was he genuinely suggesting she stay the night? Sticking around for Christmas felt intrusive. Maybe she should muster the will to get dressed and leave—as soon as her legs felt like legs again.

Casting a sidelong glance at Garreth, he seemed to be experiencing the same inner turmoil as she was, absentmindedly picking at his wand while staring down at her. In an effort to dispel the tension, she sat up and delicately kissed the red lines she’d carved into his shoulders.

"If you want this to be a one-time thing," he began, his voice carrying the same vulnerability she heard when he'd held her hand, "I can respect that, I'll take you home and everything between us is good. On the other hand, we could go pilfer a troll sack full of food, bring it to my bedroom, and just be humans together. What do you think?"

"How much is a troll sack?" she smirked, as she delicately brushed some sticky strands of hair away from his eyes.

"Enough to last a couple of days," his confidence began to seep back in as he flashed her a smile. "I don't have any plans for New Years, or you know, any of the days leading up to it."

Pretending to consider the proposition, she glanced at her reflection in a nearby bucket, using it to smooth out her hair. "I say we rejoin the party. I should probably make an effort to socialise if I’m going to be overstaying my welcome."

Authors note: If you're interested in the story behind Garreth turning himself into a baby, and subsequently carried around by Sharp all day, you can find "Baby Garreth, and where to find him" here.

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warmcoals · 7 months

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dembly you argue in bad faith, you knowingly and meaningfully use cruel judgmental language to talk about other trans women in so many public situations over the years, you move the goalposts and cry victim and shout "no You're being mean to Me!" any time anyone points out this behavior, and you still try to claim ignorance even tho ppl have explained to you gently, even kindly, multiple times how your words hurt and the effect they have when combined with your blindly following audience.

and still you turn these followers against people like a mean girl commanding goonies, and still you say stuff like "isnt it good to be normal" one post behind "you girls are too weird." i genuinely hope you stop posting. i mean i expect your "private" personal blog will be full of vitriol or petty ideas but thats your business i suppose. just stop bringing other, impressionable trans people into your toxic orbit.

the reason we get to know and support and love each other online, as trans girls and such on here, is because we listen and share in our niche interests and get excited about things we don't know and listen with interest to learn abt and experience them. we are all mentally ill here, truly, but we're mostly working hard to be good friends and grow our social and media knowledge bit by bit, recapitulating all the chances to make friends and be understood and boosted and wanted that we never got before we were girls. it feels good, it turns out. it's really nice.

as a blogger who purposefully culminated a huge following based on sending asks and perceiving u as a micro-celebrity, u could have used yr platform to broadcast that message, of interest in different hobbies and personalities, of patience with girls who are more blunt or dont know boundaries yet, of always supporting selfies bc we all always look pretty, of trans women loving trans women. but since you transitioned youve just been biting and tearing, setting yourself apart from other girls, using language that the majority of us are clearly offended by, and calling us crazy for feeling that way. while still boosting a Brand. it's that which ill never forgive you for. im sick of it. go away

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whovianderson · 8 months

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Sex Education season 4 thoughts

The good

Aimee’s journey. As I’ve discussed online no end, I have complex PTSD. While I was never sexually assaulted like Aimee was, her avoidant trauma responses were very relatable to me. To see her taking the power back this season, especially when the burned the jeans she was assaulted in and did the photoshoot with them, made me feel a bit less alone as I try and heal. I cried my eyes out, so much so that I had to take a break from watching to collect myself!

“Even when I’m doing something I love… it feels like I’m still wearing them, like it never goes away”

Cal’s story as a non-binary person is very different to mine (and for the record, that doesn’t make either of us any less valid, because there is no singular way to be non-binary). Nonetheless, hearing someone I love as much as I do Gillian Anderson affirm our shared gender nonconformity meant the world. I’m sick of facing transphobia from society, but especially from people that I once considered idols. So knowing that Gillian embraced a role where her character supports trans youth healed something within me. It’s not the first time she’s showed up for our community though - she always makes a point to include non-binary people, for example in her Dear Gillian announcement video. I don’t mean to undermine the real hero of the story here: Dua Saleh, the actor who played Cal - it’s just that I had already formed such a deep connection with Gillian, so it hit me doubly hard from her.

The funeral scene. Just… the funeral scene. I really lost it when Mr Hendricks played With Or Without You on the piano and everyone else joined in.

Other people have spoken about this better, so I won’t get into it as much, but by god, the representation. One example that really struck me was the sex scene between Abbi and Roman at the end, where she said “I love being inside you”. It wasn’t a big deal, their transness was completely normalised.

This might be an unpopular opinion, but I loved the Motis ending! Maeve made the right choice going back to America, and long distance relationships are really hard when you have no plans to reunite, so I get why they called it off. Also, relationships at that age don’t usually last, as much as I hate to say it, and yet via Maeve’s letter, the show managed to honour that they can still shape one’s life and be really important.

The bad

If it wasn’t clear, I’m a Jean Milburn stan first and a human second. Unfortunately, I was disappointed in how they handled her storyline this season. Firstly, I’m tired of every single female character on television having an arc that culminates in motherhood. Not knowing who the father was felt like bad writing for Jean specifically, like very out of character, because she’s a sex therapist, so she’s all about safe sex and communication around those things. By no means am I suggesting that they should’ve kept Jakob as a character (if you don’t already know, his actor sexually assaulted hundreds of women which, by the way, was public knowledge before he was ever cast), but they could’ve come up with a better workaround. Maybe I’m biased because Jean is a comfort character of mine, but I wasn’t very pleased with the fact that they didn’t allow her to be happy for a single second this season either! That being said, I do think it’s important that we don’t gloss over the postpartum depression representation here, which could mean so much to so many. I wish they’d brought Maureen in to help Jean though, because their relationship was so special and yet we didn’t see them interact onscreen once this season.

I haven’t heard anyone else mention this, but I was disappointed with how they handled sapphic relationships this season. Not only were Ola and Lily erased entirely, but the writers fucked up the storyline for the only established sapphic couple remaining (Roz and Sofia Marchetti). Like, why was the Big Plot Twist™️ that there was, in fact, a man intimately involved with their family? Our lives don’t have to revolve around men, you know? The show didn’t explicitly acknowledge the fact that genetics to not make a family in my opinion either, because Roz and Sofia’s conversation with Jackson was just about how his biological father was missing out on raising him.

The… mixed? Idk!

I deserve to be sent to horny jail for this, but Jean breastfeeding initially drove me insane. I quickly changed my tune though, because breasts are not inherently sexual and breastfeeding shouldn’t be sexualised, so it makes me feel a bit icky to see people thirsting over that.

I’m not sure how I felt about the development of Adam and Michael’s relationship. On one hand, I thought it was beautiful to see them both grow and reconnect. On the other hand, I was slightly concerned that it was veering into “you have to forgive your abuser” territory. I don’t have parental trauma, so I don’t have the authority to comment, but I’d be interested to hear other people’s perspectives.

I really appreciate how they tried to explore toxic relationships with the introduction of Beau as Viv’s love interest. However, I don’t feel that it was given the weight it deserved, because there was so much else going on.

In summary

I’m not disappointed with how this season turned out overall. Although it definitely wasn’t perfect, I thoroughly enjoyed watching it, and it made me very happy. I do recommend checking trigger warnings before watching it though, because it is a lot darker than previous seasons.

I’d missed this show and these characters more than I’d realised, and I can’t believe I’ll never see them again. It was really hard to say goodbye!

#yes I binged all of season 4 in one day but I was too lazy to post about it until now. love that for me #miscellaneous thoughts:#gillian anderson is a phenomenal actor jsyk #this season is confirmation that ncuti is gonna be an amazing doctor #I may be becoming a hannah waddingham stan what of it #also this is personal so feel free to skip #but I’m so so proud of myself #because this season would have been too triggering for me to watch not long ago #but I’m ✨healing✨ now #sex ed season 4 #sex ed s4 #sex education season 4 #sex education s4 #sex ed spoilers #sex education spoilers #sex education netflix #sex ed netflix

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arogustus · 2 months

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Splatband Analysis - Squid Squad + Diss-Pair

(Disclaimer: This analysis in based on what I get out of looking into the character descriptions we have of the splatband characters. If you disagree with what I say, that is fine, we are all beheld to our opinions. Just don’t be a jerk about it.)

The Squad of Squid (and that one urchin). Squid Squad was the first splatband, with the two super cool songs that dominated the music scene, one of which is an emblematic part of Turf War gameplay. They’re also the band with the juiciest drama out of all the splatbands. Plagiarism, violence and relationship drama. This band has it all, so let’s see what all that was!

Also Warabi is here too I guess. They’re just one octopus, so it’s easy to jam them in here.

The Band

Squid Squad was Inkopolis’ hottest act back in the first Splatoon, and evidently have been playing for a decent while before they gained notoriety in Turf Wars with their latest album, Fresh Kids. They don’t make many public appearances due to their popularity causing them to get constantly mobbed by fans. Despite that, their success hides their amateurish nature, as outside of Ikkan, none of the band members know much about making music, practically winging it when it comes to their stuff, though definitely with a lot of passion for it.

Internally, the band seemed to be rife with discord between band members that got bad enough the bassist eventually up and left, though not before one final concert on Starfish Mainstage. After that, silence for everyone but Quinn, who later pops up in Diss-Pair in Splatoon 2. According to Booyah Base, the others were focusing on their solo careers. But they did come back as Front Roe, although now actively distancing themselves from their past, to the point of not even performing any of their old songs. They want a fresh start, and want the world to see them for their talent and not for their fame. Though it’s fair to say the failure of Squid Squad is probably still fresh in their hearts.

Ichiya

Oh, Ichiya. Who knew the guy who looks like a fish gasping for air out of water would be at the center of so much drama. Let’s start with the information we learned most recently. That is, that he’s not an Inkopolis native, but actually from the Splatlands! We don’t know what made him move over to Inkopolis, Beika is pretty vague about the circumstances, but he seems to have adapted pretty well to the local culture. His relationship to Beika itself is its own mystery. All we have to go over is that the two were close enough that they had shared knowledge of Now or Never. Maybe he used to be a part of C-Side before Inkopolis? Maybe the two were close friends, or dating? No one is willing to give a straight answer. According to Splatune 3, he and Front Roe have made no comment on the matter, though people assume they are outraged. Note the keyword “assume��, here, that’s just what the public thinks.

He’s described as selfish, with the temperament of a prodigy and rockstar charm that draws people to him. The trademarks of someone who’s letting fame get to their heads it seems, though not immediately noticeable considering the charm thing. He probably seems cooler when seen from a distance, but you realize his negatives once you get to know him. This aspect seems to have faded for Front Roe, considering their current distancing from their past fame is kinda antithetical to his personality in Squid Squad. He’s hiding his identity (poorly) alongside the others, so something must have changed.

On the topic of being a prodigy, Ichiya can’t read!.. Music. He doesn’t know how to read music, I assume his other reading levels are normal. This is shocking since he’s the one who writes the band's music. He’s just getting by with flashy guitar riffs. This is actually reflected in the music itself. I’ve seen plenty of musicians react videos of Splattack that point out how relatively simple and easy to learn and perform the song is. I wonder if this applies to other bands. At the very least Ikkan saw this potential and wanted to mentor him, but considering how that went (the two’s arguments got bad enough they got in a live shootout with each other), it’s fair to say he wasn’t receptive to that gesture.

Namida

Namida is the crazy girl of the team. We don’t get an idea as to how other than the bunch of nicknames she gets people to call her. The examples we got are “Mida-Chan”, "Master Namida", "Naminami", and "Girl from Planet Namik". Mida-Chan and Naminami sound like casual nicknames you’d get a friend to call you, while Girl from Planet Namik makes her sound eccentric and out of this world. Master Namida gives the feeling of wanting to be looked up to, probably a nickname used whenever someone asks her something. Am I reading too deep into these random nicknames? Yes, that’s the whole point of this analysis.

One minor thing is that she has knowledge in jazz theory. Seems she was studying jazz in particular before joining Squid Squad. Maybe she likes Ink Theory? At the very least she’s noted to be pretty skilled. Her lore is pretty sparse, all things considered.

Murasaki

Murasaki is next. The youngest member of the band, as the original Squid Research Lab tweet describes him as a youngster, and he’s called wild child due to his drumming skills. Not that he actually knows much about drumming, he’s like Ichiya in that he relies a lot on raw talent. Uncanny sense of rhythm, but not a lot of technique. He’s passionate, though, considering he cries during his drum solos. Energetic and emotional, especially once he gets going on the drum kit. The Squid Research Lab also describes him as “rough around the edges”. He must have been a prickly (hehe) kid, but one with a good heart.

We do get to hear about him in Splatune 3’s section for Front Roe. He’s hanging out in bars now, and gives a cryptic answer to the question of whether Ikkan would ever collab with Front Roe (I’ll go into that in Ikkan’s section). He’s probably just throwing off the interviewer for the sake of the band's privacy.

Small but funny thing, Squid Squad actually starred in a small, four panel gag comic once, picture below. Definitely the best treatment a Splatband has ever gotten before Splatoon 3. Considering it’s a gag comic, it’s hard to say if this is how Murasaki is treated by his fanbase. But uh, if it is, I think he’s got reasons to be a little prickly.

Ikkan

The other center of drama that also looks like a dying fish. Look at how much he and Ichiya have in common. He’s the oldest member of the band, and evidently the most experienced and responsible as well. Always arrives early before anyone else, and leaves the stage after everyone else. Even wanted to try and mentor Ichiya to help him actually learn music. Funny that he thought Squid Squad was just a passing fad in the grand scheme of things. Maybe he cared more than he let on? If you remember the Ink Theory valentine’s artwork

and look at his bass case, you can see he still has Squid Squad stickers slapped on them. And then there’s the whole thing with Front Roe’s other song, Sandy Side Up, which appears to feature vocals of both him and Warabi. The fact that both sides are being deliberately vague about a reunion does give the potential that it is a reunion, but there is no concrete answer.

Personality wise, beyond that dedication and passion for music, he’s not a very emotive person. That dead fish stare is apparently his default look, and he doesn’t move around a lot while performing. Still, when Ichiya shot him with a gun, he shot back with his own (what the fuck), and then he stopped showing up to rehearsals and eventually left the band entirely. His response to being asked a question he doesn’t want to answer (would he ever reunite with Squid Squad?) was to say “that’s a good question”, and then he just left the room and never returned.

According to Splatune, Ikkan (back in Squid Squad) actually stayed at a celebration party for one of their live shows up until the very end. Hard to say if it means he’s a secret party animal, or just felt obligated to stay. The latter tracks better with his personality in my opinion, as we know his response to an uncomfortable social situation is to just nope the fuck out. He also arrived at the studio before everyone else like always after the party, showcasing that diligence we know and love about him.

Now, as we all know, he did come back in a new band for Splatoon 2, Diss-Pair, having found an Octoling twink overseas who he befriended. It’s through here that we get a bit more insight about his reasons for leaving Squid Squad. Specifically he disliked the lack of tension, and them just being yes-men to whatever he said. Considering their overall inexperience, Squid Squad didn’t have much in terms of discussion over the songwriting process. But he did find it with Warabi, at least. Their first meeting was mistaken for an argument, and they have this balanced dynamic of pointing out each other's flaws while still trusting each other enough to not even have to look at each other during performances. He really respects the octoling.

Warabi

Diss-Pair’s other half, and an octoling that has been living on the surface for quite some time it seems. Now, I don’t mean offense, but I don’t much care for the “Warabi is an Octarian” headcanon. A lot of the info we’re given of them pretty heavily imply they were born on the surface. Their parents are famous actors, they had a musical education for gifted kids, they visit up to twenty countries a year on their tours before Diss-Pair. All of it just screams surface octopus. Marina does state she’s friends with them, along with Paul, who’s heavily implied to be an Octarian octoling. Maybe they’re friends because she’s an octoling DJ in a city notoriously lacking in the species overall? At least one thing we don’t know is where they are from, as Ikkan met them overseas. But yeah, surface octopus.

Anyway, onto the octopus, they’re a DJ, specifically a Beatsmith with a strong focus on EDM style stuff. Their interest didn’t start early though, having come after growing up surrounded by music genres from around the world through their actor parents, complete with classical music education. Electronic music came to them in their teenage years, which seems to be their main deal. No details on their exact relationship with their parents, but at the very least it seems they indulge them in their love of music, so the relationship might be positive. They’re apparently very demanding as a performer, with demands that seem all over the place, but that belies a clever and intelligent person. An eccentric artist it seems, probably someone who asks people to serve a bowl full of only red M&M’s, but who actually knows their shit. And considering they’re meant to be a mismatch with the stoic, unemotive Ikkan, it’s likely they’re much more lively and energetic compared to him just to make the contrast between the two clearer. Despite those differences and the arguments they seem to have, they get along and greatly respect Ikkan.

It’s nice for Ikkan that he found someone who he considers an equal.

---

I wonder what we'll learn about Front Roe once the Side Order artbook is released (nothing like it has been announced, but come on, it has to be coming). Will the Beika/Ichiya drama reach its tipping point? Will Namida get more crazy nicknames? Will Ikkan be there and somehow answer nothing? It's all I care about, really, I'd settle for just buying the splatband pages of the artbook.

#splatoon #splatbands #splatband analysis #squid squad #ichiya #namida #murasaki #ikkan #diss-pair #warabi #my work #I can't talk about clam guy cause we know jack about them im sorry #they'll get the spotlight one day i promise

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starplanes · 5 months

Text

been debating saying something about this for WEEKS but it's been nagging at me so:

we all remember that anonymous ad account? there was a big kerfuffle about it - personally I was very annoyed how the account would constantly bring me up and occasionally say wrong things about me, but I know other creators had issues with what was being anonymously said about them.

Months ago I did find out who was behind the blog - an audio drama creator I have never spoken to. They were a member of the AD Lab Discord Server, and at least two mods of that server knew about the blog and were helping anonad with their posts. The person behind anonad seemed to really look up to these mods, who had more experience in the industry. The creator of Regina Prime (referred to henceforth as J) might not be strictly "behind the blog," but they were helping with it, and I would guess manipulating anonad to push specific messages, knowing anonad looked up to them and using that to their advantage. This is why the account would constantly bring me up - while I've never spoken to the point person on this account, I've rubbed shoulders with the mods. It feels really weird that these people would post about me anonymously while I was chilling in their server.

It also rubs me the wrong way that these mods styled themselves as community leaders, "professors" of the audio drama lab, helpers of new creators... but behind the scenes were actively stoking the anonymous, public shit talking of other projects. I've kept quiet about it cause I'm tired of "drama," but I feel culpable having in this knowledge and not sharing it. I feel bad that new creators are finding community with and getting advice from people who are willing to turn around and hinder their crowdfunding campaigns or stoke personal rumors behind their backs.

And I mean this in the most literal sense - one of the creators who had their crowdfunding campaign posted about by the anonad account has a different project they're "incubating" with the AD lab. J read over and encouraged a post ripping into a crowdfund before it was posted, then a month later approved a project for development in the lab by the very same creator whose crowdfund she helped end. Yikes. it seems like the purpose of this all was to criticize other campaigns they saw as "competition" - which we in the community know doesn't actually exist - while using the person behind anonad for plausible deniability so they wouldn't get in trouble for tearing their colleagues down over anything they could.

I'm tired of J's facade. I'm tired of knowing that people who trust these mods have been anonymously hurt by them. I'm tired of J and HR (of Packhowl) threatening my friend in private and lying about her in public, all because they sent her screenshots revealing the mods' level of involvement with the blog. HR may not have been involved from the beginning, but she and the remaining mods are helping to keep everything quiet. The facade remains, the trust remains, the lies remain, and all the moderators are responsible.

This isn't one-off behavior from the people who were seemingly manipulating anonad, and I'm done hiding their actions for them. I've hesitated in part for so long because I feel that the "main" person behind the account should not be named, and I worry these moderators will name them to deflect blame. I hope they won't.

Edit: removed first names per a request

#anyway now you know and you can make choices based on that #im not telling anyone what to do im just done keeping this info to myself okay bye

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kennysboxergf · 11 months

Note

Heyy could you write sm for niko like him nd y/n are together nd everybody knows that nd they keep flirting while they are filming w the beta squad “the weakest friend” or anything in general i just think that vid was so funny😽😽

Any Other Way ~ Niko Omilana

The bright lights of the set flashed in your face as you stood at your podium. Fans of the Beta Squad channel had petitioned, even rioted, for more videos with you in it. So when they had a chance they took it.

Today you were filming the “Weakest Friend” video in which you had to answer a ton of questions about the people you were surrounded by every day. You were at a clear disadvantage as you had recently just gotten together with Niko but you almost felt like this group was your family.

You were fairly confident in your basic knowledge of the guys but you couldn’t help but be nervous when you were called in.

You felt your hand get squeezed by Niko and looked down at it. He was smiling at you and immediately it felt like all your troubles melted away. You guys had chosen podiums next to each other and the others had let it go (but not without at least 4 quips about Niko or You being whipped).

You unlink your hands as Harry steps up and starts to talk. Everyone knew you were together in your small friend group but the public knew nothing yet. They all had guesses due to your abnormal closeness but you hadn’t quite made it official to them yet.

He starts explaining the rules and you nod along with his instruction. You look around, you were the first person in the line followed by Niko, Sharky and Chunkz. On the other side it was Filly, Kenny, AJ and Darkest.

It was very fast paced and you tried to pay attention to everything but it was damn near impossible so you chose to focus on the most important aspects (Niko mostly).

Your first question was about Niko

“When is Niko’s birthday?”

You answer correctly. Niko the idiot doesn’t bank but thankfully gets the questions about your siblings correct.

The round continues on with minimal banks and at the end you have £20.

The questions keep coming and you keep answering them

“How many siblings does Darkest have?”

“0” you say confidently.

You hear Niko yell bank next to you and clutch a hand to your ear. After the question has moved off him he gives you an apologetic smile.

You lean over your podium to look at Filly as he spends basically the entire two minutes trying to think of one of Niko’s middle names and still gets it incorrect.

You laugh as you see your boyfriend throw his hands up in the air at his friend's answer and you place a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“What’s Niko allergic to?”

“Girls”

You burst out into laughter at the answer before looking over at your Niko.

“You should have told me.” You say in a mock accusatory tone.

Hé simple shook his head with a smile.

The video continued with a few bits of banter and a lot of incorrect answers going around. You got your fair share wrong too but you weren’t nearly as bad some of the other people on the panel *cough* Darkest *cough*.

You took every opportunity you could nab to touch Niko. A hand on his shoulder, a hand on top of his. You guys even manage to sneak a couple kisses in when the cameras were turned off.

As both you and Niko got eliminated eventually you went behind the camera to cheer on Sharky and Filly as they battled it out. Behind the camera the two of you were safe and free to be as love sick as you wanted. That didn’t come without some teasing but you don’t think you would like it any other way. You loved Niko and you loved all the teasing, friends and videos that came with him.

—

look to be real I don’t like how this came out but it was requested so I tried my best to get it done <3

keep requesting or just come by and say hi <3

#beta squad #niko omilana #cute #niko x you #niko x reader #relationship

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nnight-dances · 2 years

Text

HOW TO FALL BACK IN LOVE WITH YEONJUN

pairings: yeonjun x f!reader

tropes: one-sided enemies to lovers >:-)

plotline: yeonjun loves you. you've loved him before but now you're convinced he deserves nothing but your ironic smiles. well, you're wrong. these three acts of your life uncover the truth behind your resentment and the depth of yeonjun's love. plus, an epilogue where we collectively hate on short stories because only poetry can truly capture a writer's horniness!

what to expect: a lot of rambling in parentheses but i promise it's essential to the storyline, (i have many thoughts about how i've used this feature in this story which i can share if anyone's interested.) mbti talk, some tiktok slang.

song recommendations: sweet by cigarettes after sex, moonlight by dhruv, lay all your love on me by abba

—

THE FIRST ACT: 2 THINGS YOU (MIGHT) HATE ABOUT YEONJUN

it’s not a secret that yeonjun does everything with his everything. he’s only invested in his select few interests but just the little things take up all the space in his heart. you could argue for or against his way of living, he’s more than aware it’s not the healthiest to be like this but he’s not ready to change, not while he’s still young. for now, he’s a summation of fixations and obsessions in his world. and it just so happens that one of his obsessions is you.

“what’s this? y/n’s got a new piercing?” he leans back on his heels dramatically, mouth forming an o at the sight of the newly-added butterfly stud on the helix of your ear. “and it’s only tuesday. week not going very well for you.”

you narrow your eyes at him in your typical resting-bitch-face fashion, instantly taking on an aloof demeanor, “i’m extremely uncomfortable with the fact that you’re keeping up with the number of piercings i have. can’t say i’m flattered.”

“ha! at this point, i don’t even have to try to keep count. you get a new one every other day.”

“oh, leave her alone, jun,” calls out taehyun from behind you, “she’s doing it for inspiration for her portfolio that’s due in three days.”

two ring-adorned middle fingers stick up in front of taehyun’s face, your hoarse voice following suit, “you’re a terrible friend, kang taehyun.”

“two days? and you’re not done? sorry, love, but as an ESTP, i physically cannot forgive you. i have to shame you in public.”

yeonjun laughs a little too hard for your liking at that, about to chime in with his own patronizing comment but you cut in, “oh, well, you know who else is an ESTP? donald j. trump!”

yeonjun laughs again at that, enjoying the banter between you and taehyun a lot. he joins in, “i’m an ENFP. that’s the same as katniss everdeen’s, so i’d say that explains why i’m so hot.”

you frown, “you mean you would choose peeta over gale? yeah, i can see why you have such bad taste in everything.”

taehyun howls in laughter at that and yeonjun shakes his head, “oh, ho ho ho,” he shuffles closer to you, “you don’t understand, y/n, how badly you’ve just insulted yourself.”

before you can fully comprehend the meaning of his statement, he’s gone, grabbing (stealing) a can of beer from hueningkai who’s busy forcing beomgyu to arm-wrestle him.

“whatever that means,” you huff out, massaging your temples. taehyun sighs, concealing a knowing smile, “yeah. i’ve no idea what he means.”

you rest your head against the sofa he’s sat on, stretching out your legs, “i actually hate you for betraying me like that.”

“oh god, maybe i’ll stop the day you stop talking like we’re still in the second grade and i’ve lent my eraser to the wrong person.”

“you might as well have!” you complain, not in the least petty because, “choi yeonjun did not need to know i’m behind on my portfolio. god knows what he’s gonna do with that information.”

taehyun snorts, “ah, yes, he’s probably going to plan a full-fledged assassination involving your family and kids simply based on the knowledge that you’re a helpless procrastinator.”

“you know what?” you sit up with a groan, “i think you’re the one i should be worried about sharing my secrets with. you’re the real threat here.”

your ‘friend’ simply chuckles under his breath as he watches you depart his side and hopes yeonjun’s somewhere in the crowd of the party to keep your nerves… unnerved.

yeonjun is present in the crowd, sat on the less than reassuring metal stairs of beomgyu and hueningkai’s shared apartment. his hand fidget with his phone, struggling to stop himself from going on tinder only to be disappointed because he’s just looking for another y/n and that near impossible, unless you break your oath to rely on “real life encounters and experiences” (your very own words) to find love.

he finds you then, in a group of people hanging around the balcony, cigarettes in hand. you stand a little far apart from the others, looking undoubtedly spaced-out as you swing on your heels back and forth. you’re pretty, even though yeonjun can only see one-fourth of your face, what with all the darkness and your hair in the way.

but you hate him. even if your disgusted grimaces and cold glares are all but a joke, you did seem harbor some kind of resentment toward yeonjun. he’d no idea what it was and trust him when he says he’s been putting his neck on the line just to figure out why.

so far the reasons that have him most convinced include,

one: you hate all men in general and he just happens to be a particularly irksome male presence in your life.

this is a pretty likely explanation, he thinks as he approaches you, because even as an outsider to the group you’re in, he can see that you reserve your expletives for certain men.

“…and that’s why i think everything is soup,” yuta finishes saying when yeonjun joins you. for a second there’s silence and even mark who usually can’t control his laughter maintains a poker face. then, you groan, “yuta, if i had a pencil right now, i genuinely would have stabbed you with it.”

now, this makes everyone crack up while you regard them in disbelief with a look that screams you guys know i’m serious right? because you’re dead serious.

so yeah, it’s a good bet to say that men aren’t your favorite kind of people. but still, yeonjun couldn’t shake off the feeling that your dislike for him is more personal. wishful thinking, perhaps? but then, you turn and notice yeonjun standing beside you.

your half-smile tightens into a frown, “when did you get here?”

there it was. that specific tone you use with, that was missing when you’d threatened lucas just moments ago. the grit in your teeth, the intensity of your eye-contact, even the way you say you changes. which brings him to the next and last potential reason that yeonjun has spent days, if not years, pondering.

two: yeonjun had done you wrong without knowing and ever since then, you’ve grown to absolutely despise him.

now, yeonjun knew for a fact that you’re expert at holding grudges, clear from how quick you’ve always been to bring up embarrassing things people around you, specifically taehyun, had done. and to be honest, you’re just good at remembering unusual amount of detail which you use to your advantage.

which is why yeonjun knows you’ll know he’s lying when he says, “i’ve been here for a good ten minutes, y/n. i’m so hurt you haven’t noticed.”

“stop that,” you shoot back instantly, raising a singular but intimidating index finger, “i know what you’re doing.”

yeonjun raises his eyebrow in amusement, “stop what? what am i doing?” he slightly leans in to dramatically tuck in a few stray strands of hair, “please, enlighten me.”

the low, husky voice he uses is not lost on you. despite your flaming cheeks, you scoff, “that! you’re flirting with me!” you reach up and promptly untuck the hair from behind your hair, “these are my slut strands. you’re not allowed to touch them without permission.”

“your—” yeonjun pauses, “slut... strands? right.” he swallows a chuckle, smirking instead, all while internally he’s having a breakdown over how insane you are. like in a good way. in the way that everything you say is fucking crazy but it’s so native to your logic that it drives him crazy and holy cheese, yeonjun is scaring himself right now.

he looks away momentarily to see the rest of the group’s conversation floating elsewhere. he turns back to you, “so you noticed?”

you cock up a brow, “that you’re flirting with me? no shit, yeonjun, you know i may not look street-smart but i have to live with taehyun and his witty ass so trust me, i’m not oblivious.”

“oh, i beg to differ,” he settles closer to you, leaning against the same pillar as you, shoulder flush against yours, “i didn’t think for a second that you were oblivious.”

“that’s why you ran away after telling me i was insulting myself by insulting your taste?”

yeonjun flushes, taken aback by your straightforwardness, coughing to cover up his lack of excuses at that. you breathe out a laugh at his flustered state, “hmm, so goes down the all-mighty choi yeonjun.”

“at least i wasn’t defeated by my inability to complete my creative writing portfolio due in three…” yeonjun looks down at his watch, “actually, now, two days.”

this time, you’re left without a comeback, “that’s a low blow, man.”

he laughs, “come on, isn’t this like your first time being this late?”

“once again, i remain creeped out at you knowing things like that but,” you relax noticeably next to him, “i guess i ran out of ideas this time. not sure what’s wrong.”

“and this had never happened before?”

“i thought you already knew this.” yeonjun rolls his eyes, a complete contradiction to the grin on his face. ”hm, maybe you’ve run out because you’re trying to do it the same way you’ve always done it?”

“i mean, of course i’m doing it the same way,” you mutter, “that’s like the point of having a regular writing practice. it needs to become natural.”

“yeah, but you need spice things up a little sometimes!”

“gross,” you scrunch up your nose, “you sound like you’re prescribing me a threesome right now.”

he shrugs playfully, “if that’s what rocks your boat.” you push him away at that and he laughs out, “okay, okay, but i’m serious. try something new.” you quieten down at that, probably thinking.

“what about…” you look up at him expectantly and he almost fumbles over his words, “um, what about walking around the city?”

—

THE SECOND ACT: LOVE BEGINS BEHIND CLOSED PARENTHESES

full disclosure here: yeonjun’s second reason is right. the first one isn’t completely wrong, but it’s more so the second one that finds you in the gropes of overthinking that night.

you know how at a certain point in the past, you really (really, really, really) like someone but then things don’t work because that person isn’t into you (but more because you’re too caught up in your own self-perception to do anything) so slowly that lots (and lots and lots) of like turns into a lump of resentment? yeah, that pretty much describes your relationship with yeonjun. more or less, you hate him for not liking you (”in the past!! i don’t care about him anymore!” you hastily add from behind kang taehyun who had been narrating this whole paragraph. taehyun poorly covers up an incredulous snort.)

“so now you’re going on a date with him?” taehyun asks a little too loudly, “how does that happen?”

“it doesn’t happen because nothing is happening because i’m not going on a date with him!” you half-scream, hitting the brunette on his head to try and shove some sense into it, “and please, stop being so loud or i’m going to cry.”

“y/n, we live alone. and i think you’re going to cry nevertheless, but okay. if it’s not a date, what is it?”

“it’s just a walk,” you say and when taehyun looks at you blankly, “a walk around the city, in his exact words.” more blankness. more silence. “i was going to go alone but yeonjun said he knows an obscure part of town that would help me become, you know, curious.”

“uh-huh, right, of course…” taehyun purses his lips, intrigued to see how far you’d go with your denial.

“stop looking at me like you’re so much better than me! and no—” you cut him off knowingly, “don’t say that you are better than me. you’re not. what you are is an asshole and i hate you.”

you fall into your sheets with a frustrated wail and taehyun laughs at your state for a few seconds before returning to his role as your therapist slash best friend.

“okay, y/n, i know you don’t like to think about, let alone admit it, but you’re into yeonjun. and since i can’t let what happened a year ago happen again, i’m telling you that i’m almost completely sure that he’s into you, too. so please, don’t be hostile tomorrow on your date— sorry, your ‘walk’ with him. use the opportunity or i’m sleeping over at kai’s.”

—

“i don’t know why i let you talk me into this,” you scoff as you fall into step next to yeonjun. “we’re literally at a stupid park.”

he gasps like the theatre kid he should be, “first of all, this is a huge park and you’ve no idea how much people-watching you can from here. and secondly, i bought you coffee so all you’re being right now is ungrateful.”

you stay silent, eyes scanning a group of middle-aged ladies that passes you. you hear a whiff of their conversation, something about one of them wanting to take a break by the water fountain.

“see? you’re already in the zone and i didn’t even have to shut up.”

you look back at him, awed look morphing into a scowl, “no, i think it’s just really easy for me to forget you’re here.” yeah, it’s safe to say you haven’t taken a word taehyun said to the heart.

but no matter what you say, half an hour later finds you perched on a bench, crouched over your notebook, fingers scratching quick bullet points into the paper. you look up every ten minutes or so, head moving up and then rotating slowly, and then back to writing.

it’s only when yeonjun brings you your second cup of coffee that you notice the stiffness in your shoulders. he smiles at you, brightly. brightly? no, it’s the sun that’s bright, not yeonjun. he’s… moronic.

“wanna take a break?” he asks. you stand up in answer, taking the cup he holds out for you, the words thank you leaving your lips a little too quickly. he doesn’t overreact like you expect him to, his attention on some kids a few ways away from where the two of you are.

“you wanna play frisbee?” you mean to mock, not offer, but yeonjun’s ear perk up and he’s pulling you after him before another word can be said.

“hey, kids!” he greets the children who look like they’re maybe in middle school, “could we join y’all for a bit?”

it’s a a girl in pigtails who answers excitedly, probably encouraged by yeonjun’s looks (hey, yeonjun is objectively good-looking. just because you’re stating facts about his appearance doesn’t mean you’re in love with him. because you’re not in love with him.)

“sorry, this one is a little zoned out most of the time, so just don’t aim at her face,” you hear yeonjun say as you finish convincing yourself of your lack of feelings for him. you resist the itch to flip him off and flash a polite smile to the blonde boy next to you.

he responds with an enthusiastic wave, “hello! i’m ren!” you raise your eyebrows, not expecting him to introduce himself but return with a, “hey ren, i’m y/n. nice to meet—”

you’re cut off by yeonjun’s yell as the yellow frisbee flies your way. your hands come up to shield your face but ultimately it’s yeonjun’s body crashing into yours that saves you. does it, really? you wonder as you groan from under him. the grass is damp and you’re in it and yeonjun’s on top of you. you’re not sure what makes you more annoyed.

“i fucking hate you,” you whisper as yeonjun props himself up. he’s still close enough though so he grins, looking objectively good-looking despite the twig that’s found its way into his hair. “smile, babe, i just saved your life.”

you don’t know how to respond to his outrageous use of the endearment so you’re grateful when ren exclaims, “he just called y/n noona baby!!!! ewww, they’re dating!!”

on second thought, you’re not grateful because apparently, this is enough to wreak havoc among the group of children. weren’t they already at least ten? isn’t that old enough to not be annoying? you don’t find out because next thing, yeonjun’s hand is wrapped around your wist as he helps you up.

you shoot him a glare and the loud boy next to yeonjun screams, “they’re holding hands!!!”

“gosh darn, kids, your parents never touch each other or what?”

“my mother said my father’s breath smells like beer and that’s why she won’t give him kissies like she gives me them!” the girl in pigtails answers, proud for some reason. despite everything, you crack a smile at that, leaning into yeonjun’s side who’s struggling to stifle his laughter.

“i think we’ve had enough of a break, no?” he says to you and you nod, “please, let’s go before i’m forced to write about the bad parenting in my portfolio.”

about five minutes pass in you trying to break free from the group who insist on another round. another round takes two minutes before ren takes a hit to his knee and you both take the chance to leave, with you almost sprinting back to the peace of your bench in the shade.

you fall against the tree next to the bench, yeonjun close behind. “that was…” you take a moment to catch your breath, “not bad?”

yeonjun claps his hands together, “that’s exactly what i’ve been trying to tell you! this park! those kids! me? not bad!”

and well, because you guess you can allow that the whole affair isn’t half bad, it’s already evening when you’re too tired to write anymore. you look away from your almost illegible handwriting to find yeonjun gazing at you. weirdly (longingly).

he clears his throat, “you think you have enough?”

feeling weird (love-struck), you also clear your throat, “um, i should. i hope so, my fingers feel like they’re going to fall off.”

“that’s a good sign you’ve worked hard,” he pats your head. you don’t flinch away somehow. he continues, “it’s also a good sign that we should get some food.” when you narrow your eyes at him, he rushes to add, “you know, to relax your fingers.”

the excuse is ridiculous. the premise of this entire day is ridiculous. hell, yeonjun’s entire being is ridiculous. but you’re spent, your walls aren’t as rigid in the soft light of the sunset, and yeonjun’s eyes have an unreal glow when he’s silent.

and so, ridiculously enough, you answer yeonjun, “we should get sushi.”

—

that night, you return to your place to a tipsy party (?) of taehyun, soobin, and beomgyu with hueningkai glued to his phone-screen in concentration, filming everything. “you’re back!” kai announces when he opens the door, phone still recording, and you flip the camera off, not without a careless smile.

taehyun stands up at the sight of you, “i take it you had a fruitful date?” soobin laughs, so very loudly. “lmao,” (yes, soobin has the ability to say text slang out loud irl, next question please), “get it? fruit-ful? date? dates are fruits? am i drunk already?”

you shake your head at them and simply hug taehyun, feeling unbelievably affectionate today. “oh? what’s this? y/n initiating physical contact? choi yeonjun must be a god.”

you pull away, “this has nothing to do with him,” you say, sounding unconvincing even to your own ears, “i’m just tired. good night. if you make too much noise, i will take kai hostage and—”

“oh, do that anyway!! please, i’ll pay you!!!!” beomgyu shouts enthusiastically and you leave the living room before you have to witness any more of their drunken behavior.

but even in bed, you find yourself unable to sleep, mind occupied with… thoughts (is hanging out with so many men making you slightly dull? maybe. is it making emotionally constipated? absolutely. you make a mental note to schedule a lunch date with yeji later).

to be more specific, the image of yeonjun sat across from you holding out a piece of spicy tuna roll in your direction is too stubborn to leave your head. you think about yeonjun, among other things, that night.

yeonjun is no different, his mind still reeling from the realization that he’s spent an entire day with you. a day. a date? maybe, but whatever it was, you definitely couldn’t hate him too much if you could stand to spend that much time with him. you even shared a meal with him, laughed when he pretended his chopsticks were an airplane transporting food to your mouth. you humored him. you laughed with him. was that real?

—

if you think there’s nothing worse than waking up, walking out of your room— and right into yeonjun, then you’re wrong. because the disorientation you feel comes nowhere close to compare to yeonjun’s condition when he runs into you on his way to the common bathroom. he’s not sure what he else expected but it doesn’t surprise him to see that you sleep in a ginormous graphic tee (with mona lisa’s face on it?) and shorts.

“what are you doing here?”

the sense of deja vu overwhelms yeonjun for a moment before he smiles a little because your tone is not hostile, only confused. could he take this as progress? (or are you just half-asleep?)

“i’m… i’m here for brunch?” he’s a bit out of it by the time you raise your arms to stretch, heaving a half-groan, half-sigh. and listen, yeonjun’s not a pervert but he is considerably in love with you so seeing you with your slightly droopy eyes and slumped shoulders in your perfectly in-character pajamas sets off his imagination. to all kinds of destinations. (you as a domestic cat? you as a tired soul resting in his bed after a long night? god, he’s not doing this right now.)

“i don’t? i don’t remember agreeing to brunch?” you mumble confusedly, almost petulantly.

“you know,” announces soobin, suddenly revealing himself from the shadows (he’s literally been standing beside the two of you for two minutes, waiting for you to notice him. all he gets is the heat of the sexual tension between you and yeonjun. he could cook eggs on that shit.) “yeonjun was our friend before he knew you, y/n. actually, taehyun was our friend before he was your soulmate, so a brunch is a pretty normal occasion for us.”

yeonjun nods and you simply nod your head, probably too sleepy to make any witty comments at that. he shrugs, “but you’re more than welcome to join us if you want. for brunch? i’m guessing you haven’t eaten anything since our— since last night.” why’s yeonjun flustered? he’s only invited to brunch with four other people.

“i’m—” you’re cut off by yeonjun making his way to the bathroom. when he shuts the door behind him with a less than dramatic thud, you look at soobin in confusion. “so many things are happening too early in the morning.”

but brunch becomes a thing. and you join brunch, helping yourself to taehyun’s nearly perfect breakfast spread, your plate filled with bacon, eggs, and waffles.

“i say it’s nearly perfect because all we have in this house is fucking peanut butter!” you cry out, making taehyun give you a glare because he’s heard this many times before, “i don’t know how many times i’ll have to tell you this, but jam! jam is meant to be eaten with bread, it’s the only right way, it’s the way god intended things. do i look like a gym bro to you?”

“lol no,” says soobin, high-fiving you (you’re not sure if he does that because he agrees with your point about the jam, or if he’s also not a gym bro?) “y/n has a point. there’s so much more options with jam, think of all the berries you could be eating! peanut butter is the same old, same old.”

“god, i hate it when these two are in the same room.” you don’t have time to respond to beomgyu’s exasperated comment because yeonjun shifts closer to you on the sofa, coffee kettle in hand.

“want some? i’ll pour it out for you,” he offers, eyebrows raised. you pause for a second, mouth almost hanging open at how motherly he seems, but nod in a daze and watch as he stands up, takes out a black mug (that coincidentally happens to be your self-proclaimed mug) and pours coffee into it. you’re unaware of the little smile on your face when he brings it back to you, placing the hot mug next to your plate.

you’re about to think out loud about his motherliness when beomgyu follows up on his previous comment, even more boisterous, “oh, but these two in the same room are even worse.”

you look up at that to see the other three staring at you. you make a disgusted face, “why are y’all staring at me? please stop, i feel unsafe.”

“in that case, yeonjun must be feeling really fucking unsafe from how closely you’ve been staring at him,” laughs soobin, words slightly muffled from the food in his mouth. he’s lucky he’s your favorite friend (honestly, it’s just because he looks adorable with his cheeks full but eh, his personality wasn’t that bad you suppose).

“i’ve? not? been staring?” you ignore beomgyu’s snickering, picking up the coffee, “you guys need to get lives so that you stop searching so desperately for crumbs of drama here. i’m not here to serve as a source of entertainment for yo—” you promptly, contradict your statement by spilling the top half of your drink right into your lap.

while you sit there with scalding on your bare legs, it’s only yeonjun who seems concerned (overtly so, you’d observe if you’d care to admit it) with the others laughing their hearts out, satisfied at the comedic timing of your accident.

yeonjun, meanwhile, rushes to you with a handful of tissues, lips in a pout, “what the fuck, are you stupid? how do you spill that? have you never had coffee before?” you sit there trying to get the tissues from his hand, but he swats your attempts away, swiping the coffee from your thighs.

he’s much more careful that you would’ve been, making sure none of it soaks through your grey night shorts and a hand on your knee, probably to steady himself (spoiler: his hand on your knee doesn’t steady either of you, especially not him). but he manages himself well, his worrying outweighing all else as he looks up at you, “are you okay?”

you realize you haven’t said a word, eyes raising to taehyun’s who’s now looking away but watching slyly from his peripheral vision. beomgyu and soobin are in similar positions, pretending to be decent people when really, they’re over the moon.

“yeah, i’m okay, i didn’t really feel any of that,” you mumble, patting at your thighs, “but, um, sorry i wasted so much of your coffee.” yeonjun takes one of your hands, “no, don’t worry about it, i can always make more. you can’t make more of these legs.”

“okay! that’ll do it! i can’t take it any more!” beomgyu stands up with a melodramatic groan, “you two are gross, dude! like, not even in an elementary school way, you’re just objectively gross. i hate this.”

“what was that you said about not being our source of entertainment?” jokes soobin, elbow poking yours, pointing at you and then yeonjun who’s still crouching in front of you, one hand on you, “i very much feel like i’m in a k-drama right now, so i’ve no clue what you mean.”

you can sense from the tilt of taehyun’s grin that he’s about to follow suit with an equally, if not more, obnoxious comment, so you stand up, declaring, “i’m going to my room. i have a portfolio to finish in two days!”

you retire to your room after that, deciding concentrating on your work will do you some good now that you’ve… socialized? could you even call it that? you leave it at that, plopping down on your study desk where you would’ve usually conceptualized your rough drafts like you’d done yesterday in your notebook. it doesn’t compare to the park yeonjun took you to, but there is a window to your right from where you can see the slow street in front of your apartment. people-watching through that window has given you some pretty cool ideas for your pieces. you suppose it was like a pocket-sized version of your experience at the park.

you work the afternoon away, surprised to see it getting dark outside when there’s a knock at your door. you twist in your chair and call out, “come in!”

a light-brown head of hair pokes through and squinting in the darkness of your room, you can tell that’s not taehyun. “yeonjun?”

“woah, haven’t you got electricity in here?” he asks, stepping in and you see he’s put on a cream-colored cardigan on the blue shirt from brunch.

“nah, taehyun uses the money i give him for the electricity bill and gambles it all away,” you joke, sighing with feigned sorrow.

“ah, right, i forget taehyun has a gambling addiction. i’m sorry, miss, can’t imagine what it’s like to be married to someone like that.”

you laugh at that, yeonjun joining in. he leans in against the wall across from you, finding the switch to the lights in your room and turns them on. you’re both quiet for a moment.

you, because you’re reveling in the new-ness of your relationship with yeonjun. you feel like you’ve moved on in some way, no longer feeling caught up in the bitterness that had been coloring your interactions with him so far. he’s close to you, this yeonjun right now, who really, truly looks at you. you don’t even remember the yeonjun who broke your heart. (was it him who broke your heart? you begin to wonder, or just your imagination?)

for yeonjun, he doesn’t think he could’ve said anything even if he wanted to. you look so otherworldly in the dim glow of the evening, your eyes meeting his eyes, unapologetically and most importantly, without resentment. you’re beautiful, here silently in front of him, and he thinks he might have a chance with you after all.

“um,” he’s the one to break the silence, “have you eaten since brunch?”

you shake your head, “have you?”

“nope, beomgyu roped me into watching netflix with him when i tried to study,” he admits with a shy giggle, “next thing i knew the sun was setting.”

—

THE THIRD ACT: WINE FLIES WHEN YOU'RE HAVING FUN

conversations with yeonjun always lead the most unexpected places, and this one ends up with you driving with him to the supermarket. one day, you’re taking walks and playing frisbee with yeonjun, the next you’re grocery shopping with him because he’s had a whim to cook dinner for everyone. oh, how fast the night changes.. or however that one direction song goes.

“do you like spaghetti?” he asks, approaching the shelves stacked with different types of pasta.

“think before you ask me if i like pasta again, yeonjun,” you shoot back, inspecting the packets with your hands clasped behind your back. “wow, it’s been so long since i’ve been grocery shopping. taehyun never trusts me to get stuff and that’s how we end up with only peanut butter.”

yeonjun chuckles as he scans the shelves for the kind he likes and you shuffle around a lot, making little noises at all the cute shapes in the different packings. “they have heart-shaped pasta?!” you hold up the pink package excitedly at yeonjun who closes in on you with a fond smile.

“hmm, i think i get why taehyun never lets you come grocery shopping,” he starts, “it says here this a kids’ pasta.”

you regard him with your hands on your hips, unimpressed scowl on face, “you’re saying i have to be a kid to eat heart-shaped pasta? i don’t ever want to talk to you again.”

yeonjun is in a fit of laughter but he reaches out for your wrist as you pretend to walk away anyway with a hurried, “no, no, i think we should get the heart-shaped pasta.”

the rest of your trip is you roaming around being pulled off by the obscure brands and unusual types of foods while yeonjun grabs the ingredients you’ll actually need for dinner. about fifteen minutes later, when he’s done checking off everything on his list, he finds you typing away on your phone.

he catches a glimpse of the notes app on your phone and smiles as he comes to stand in front of you, “what’s up?”

“ohh, are you done?” you look away, “i got some ideas. i’ll use them for future pieces.”

“you’re done with your portfolio?” he asks. and you nod, eyes twinkling as the two of you head to the counter, “yep, i guess your plan with the park wasn’t completely a fail. it was not bad, really not bad.”

yeonjun laughs, piling the items for the worker to bill them. you gasp at the sight of a dark purple container, “you got blueberry jam?”

(fuck, his heart skips a beat. cheesy but valid. you look like you have hearts in your eyes.) “yeah, i saw it and thought you’d like it.”

you crack a delighted smile and even though both of you are paying for the groceries, you feel like you’ve been gifted the world. “i think i love you.” (you’re only joking. …right?)

—

“taehyun!!! beomgyu!!! soobin!!!!” you holler into the house, setting up five wine glasses around the table, “dinner’s ready!”

beomgyu is the first to come out, summoned by the smell of food, gaping at the fancy set-up of the two casseroles on the table, one bigger for the spaghetti and a small dedicated to your heart pasta. “woah, this looks insane,” he comments and calls out for the other two.

yeonjun emerges from the kitchen, the bottle of red wine you’d picked out with your hands. you hadn’t been the most helpful in the conquest of the pasta ingredients but you knew a thing or two about wine. this one was one the cheaper side so you didn’t have the greatest expectations for it, but it’ll have to do.

taehyun and soobin make it to the table five minutes later, shocked at seeing a table full of homemade meal. “is this, like, you and yeonjun announcing that you’re officially a couple?” soobin asks. (he’s not joking. the way the two of you stare down at the dinner you’ve put together proudly truly has him convinced that you’re finally over the pining.)

clearly this is not the case but the sight of both of you turning as red as the spaghetti for dinner is enough to elicit a few chortles from all of them. “honestly… shut up, soobin,” yeonjun scolds and you take a seat at the table wordlessly.

the dinner is an experience. it’s been a while since any of you have had good home-cooked food like this, the past few weeks having been cluttered with take-out meals and the extent of cooking you’ve done involves frozen food.

“this is so good,” you hold up a heart pasta, waving it in the air at everyone, and then at yeonjun, “i told you this would be good. it’s so good.”

“judging from the way you’re acting like a child, i’m guessing you’re done with your portfolio?”

you glare at taehyun but nod anyway, shooting him a thumbs up, “done and dusted, sir. i even managed to proof-read it before submitting it this time.”

yeonjun has been sitting beside you, eyes round with adoration at everything you say. you can’t blame him, you’d changed into a white dress with puff-sleeves before dinner which doesn’t only fit the mood but single-handedly creates it, and it’s a rare thing to see you in a dress so casually.

taehyun smiles, “i’m proud of you. even though you’re doing the bare minimum by completing your work on time.”

you roll your eyes at his twisted way of affection, the words on the tip of your tongue dying out when yeonjun leans into you suddenly, arm reaching out for the bottle of wine beside you. he shoots you a half-smile when he meets your gaze, pouring some out for you. as he returns to his position, he says under his breath, “try not to spill this on yourself, babe.”

you hold in the giddy breath that almost escapes your throat at his words, but you can’t stop the mellow feeling that blooms in your chest, eyes following him as he pours some wine for the others, too. was it the wine that was mellow or yeonjun’s voice? (hint: it was the moment of his love for you that was mellow.)

you make it through dinner, occasionally asserting the supremity of your heart-shaped pasta for kids here and there, but overall, overwhelmed by the man by your side. when everyone’s finished eating and lazing around the sofa, beers in hand (”wine is for sissies,” beomgyu aims at you because he knows you hate it when he says that, “let’s get beer guys.”), you take to the balcony with a glass full of wine to yourself.

the night air is pleasant after the warm atmosphere inside the house and you breathe through your mouth a few times, to calm your nerves. you can feel yeonjun’s eyes on you from the living room but choose to stay still, welcoming the feeling of spacing out in solitude.

“you alright?” his voice greets your ears not two moments later. (is he really close to you right now? or is the balcony just too small for two people?)

you hum affirmatively. then, you look at him, a light laugh leaving your chest. you’re leaning into his side now, you enjoy his warmth. “i’m good.”

“didn’t know wine could make you drunk,” he breathes, heart in his throat.

you shake your head at him, “i’m not drunk.” you hesitate and then, “at best, i’m tipsy.”

“i was talking about myself. i feel drunk. ‘s never happened before.”

you frown, throwing a careless glance over your shoulder, “beer and wine? yeah, that’ll make you drunk.”

“i didn’t have any beer,” he reveals. when you narrow your eyes, he continues, “i’m not lying. i don’t like to mix the two. i’ve read it gives you headaches.”

you stay silent, holding your breath for no special reason. (…)

“besides, once i start something, i like committing to it.” if his words themselves aren’t meaningful enough, the soft look on his face is full of unmistakable love.

“you’re not just talking about wine,” at first, it’s a statement you speak, your gaze fixed. then, memories of your past hurt rush in and you finish with an uncertain, “are you?”

“i’m not,” his voice is hushed and you feel there isn’t a moment lost between when he says his words and when you hear them. you’re so close to him, in all meanings of the word. “do you still hate me?”

you’re a little stunned by the jarring question. “i didn’t hate you. really, it was… something internal. like a dilemma. a phase, almost? i don’t think i could hate you if i wanted to.”

“you think?” you can feel his words inside of yourself now, even though you doubt either of you have moved any closer to each other.

yeonjun’s heart is on fire, destructive but determined. his hand brushes back your hair. “you’re so pretty when you wear your hair down.”

you hide your face in your shoulder, away from him, flustered that his words have such an effect on you. you’ve been complimented before. with much more zest, with more elaboration. but this is different. you feel like yeonjun is holding you.

he chuckles, “are you okay?”

you pull yourself away, swallowing, but not making eye-contact with him yet. “that’s the first time you’ve called me pretty.”

“that’s the first time you’ve heard me calling you pretty,” he corrects you. his fingers are in your hair again, this time to make you look at him. “you should listen to my thoughts sometime.”

you laugh and he’s moving closer, both his hands coming to your face. your hands move from where they’ve been clasping the balcony railing for dear life and find yeonjun’s waist, silently beckoning him nearer.

when your noses touch, yeonjun hums, “i’m crazy for you, y/n.”

you want to chuckle at his silly phrasing but instead, you’re saying it back, “fuck, i’m the crazy one, yeonjun. i’ve—” you stop your words, suddenly hesitant.

but yeonjun is firm, his lips hovering over yours and his question will you kiss me? unanswered because you’re already kissing him when he asks you.

(this kiss is. . . not bad.)

—

EPILOGUE: A SELF-AWARE SLANDER OF SHORT STORIES

“so…” your voice struggles to stay stable as you prop yourself on your elbows, yeonjun’s arms never letting loose of your sides. “when you say you’re crazy, is it that you’re crazy for me or crazy because of me?”

yeonjun stops in the middle of the tantrum he’s throwing with his buried in your neck. he blows out air through his mouth and you giggle, your hands pulling him up by the hair. “answer me!”

he sighs, “i don’t know, babe. both? neither? either.”

“come on, there’s a fundamental difference between the two,” you whine, “am i a symptom of your craziness or the cause of it?” he stays motionless, lips pressing against your cheek. you add, “just so you know, there’s no right answer. i’m honored to be either.”

“god, i can’t believe you’re using your boyfriend as material that’s going to be read by your entire class. a class of pretentious, sleep-deprived kids. they’ll hate me, y/n.”

you groan, kissing yeonjun’s ear lightly, “not true! you’re a very cute boyfriend.”

“so you are using me for your creative writing class?”

you pause and yeonjun flops onto the bad, pouting and feigning a cold shoulder. “the audacity of women these days!”

“hey!” you pull him back into you, “i’ll have you know that my love language is turning people into literature.”

yeonjun’s pout is already fading when taehyun’s voice breaks into your room (you should probably re-inforce the rule about knocking now that there’s a half-naked man in your room more often than not). “that’s true. she’s already written a story about me.”

your boyfriend’s interest is piqued at this, his eyes jumping between taehyun and you. “what? really?? and you haven’t written about me?”

“i’m trying to! you’re not making it easy.”

“did you ask him all these questions when you wrote a whole story about him?” taehyun cackles in glee at yeonjun’s returning pout.

you roll your eyes, “yeonjunie, it was a short story— the most unromantic form of literature. i’m basically saying i would rather write a bunch of boring description than even think about having sex with him.”

“hmm, it seemed like a pretty enthusiastic piece to me,” taehyun supplies unhelpfully. you glare at him. if you weren’t in just your bra, you would’ve gotten up to shut the door in his face.

“babe, i’m having serious doubts—”

you quickly shut down yeonjun’s whining, “i want to write a poem about you, my love. that’s why i’m asking you so much. it takes a little more to be properly romantic! i want to be truthful.”

he hesitates and you kiss his nose to seal the deal. taehyun groans in defeat, “gross. i just came here to get your asses to brunch. hyuka’s brought mint chocolate snacks from home so we need someone to handle him, so please hurry,” he starts to close the door as he leaves, but stops when the two of you make no move to wake up, “and you’d better not start fucking now! nobody needs to hear that this early in the morning, especially not poor hyuka.”

you laugh into yeonjun’s chest as he shouts back comforting words to taehyun. his lips attach to your shoulder. “i love you, y/n. you’re the explanation for my craziness.”

you shift to look back at him, smile widening, “hm, that’s interesting. can i quickly write that down-? okay, okay, sorry, i was kidding, love, come back here!!”

—

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