#missing severance like a mf

[ed3lsgard]

watching s3 of party down and. listen s1 and s2 young adam as henry was peak but i don’t play when it comes to old men okay. this literally should have been helena btw

[wuntrum]

their asses are NOT WORKING (refining) but also NOT WORKING (trying to get gemma outta there or do anything against lumon) either 😭😭😭😭😭 guys please...

[repost-haven]

Sniffle

The cry of a man to be surrounded by irls who don’t know MF doom 😔

[fyeahnix]

Remember when I said this?

Sevika the mf who will wear a tanktop just so she can flex at random to fluster you

Yeah....

------

The promise of seeing your beloved for an extended stretch of time carried you through the Lanes with all the grace of a romantic newly in love. Afternoon crowds were thin in all of Zaun, and you were thankful for it as every new set of bodies you weaved through added time to the internal estimation of your journey six streets up the road. Arriving in what you assumed was record time, you trudged up three flights of dilapidated stairs and down the hall to the corner apartment. You nodded at a familiar neighbor stepping out of their home only to be hit with a baffled expression that read “you again?”

When they left, you knocked.

Waited.

No answer.

You wet your lips and knocked again with more intention. Several seconds passed. You aimed to knock once more but the lock clicked. Your gaze rose directly to your girlfriend's projected eyeline right before she opened up and exposed half her body in the doorway.

A black tank top adorned her upper half, haphazard and in disarray like she’d thrown it on seconds ago. One shoulder threatened to slip down past her missing arm. Grey sweatpants covered her bottom half, hanging low off her hips to expose her boxer brief’s waistband and the trail of dark hair descending from her navel. Her feet? Bare.

You gave her a once-over and a teasing smirk. "You just woke up, didn't you?"

"What?” Sevika said, recoiling and scrunching her face. “No. Been up...'bout...an hour."

You could have believed her if you hadn't already been familiar with that sleepy, sexy drawl. Still, it was amusing to force a staring contest with her to see how quickly she'd cave and admit it. And it wasn't long before she waved the white flag and rubbed her hand down her face.

She sighed, voice still drenched in sleep. "Yeah, I just woke up."

"Thought so.” You pecked her on the cheek as you stepped past her inside. It was still dark throughout so you flipped on the lights and curled up in your favorite corner of her couch.

She closed and locked up behind you. When she approached, she signaled for you to move and stole your spot to pull you down on her lap.

You couldn’t shake the smile that graced your lips. Through dark tresses, you cradled your girlfriend's head, thumbs massaging her cheeks and the bags under her eyes. The valleys of her arcane scars registered under your finger pads. Like stained glass, they glimmered when catching the light, and though they no longer pained her, you still exercised caution so they wouldn't shatter under your touch. Every caress lulled her further into a relaxed trance with eyelids feathering shut and dark lips parting to welcome your advance. Instead, you knocked foreheads with her. Rested there and drank in her essence. Whatever tension from the work day you held coiled within you unfurled at the first note of faint citrus and woodsy underbrush, the scent you associated with home.

You pulled away slowly, much to Sevika's dismay, and she floated backwards until her head and one arm rested against the back of the couch. She smiled when her eyes fluttered open to drink you in.

"Rough night?" you asked.

"Mmhm... And too long."

You reached out to rub Sevika's arm when she rested her head on her fist. Shoulder to bicep to forearm and back again. "What time’d you get in?"

"Five-ten, I think. Maybe five-twenty. Passed out right after a shower." She rubbed the sleep out of her eye and then glanced at your hands exploring her arm. "What about you? You're off work early."

Even half-flexed, Sevika's arm was rock-hard. She was muscular, and you'd be lying if you said that wasn't one of the myriad things you loved about her. For as often as you lost yourself in her storm-grey eyes, you stumbled equally as lost admiring the statuesque figure she carved her body into after years of work and effort. What could you say, really? Discipline was attractive.

Sevika tensed her arm under your touch, and you responded in kind with a teasing squeeze to her bicep.

"I... finished early. Thought it'd be nice to spend some time with you before the reservation tonight."

Sevika snorted. "Bad luck then."

"Mm, not really. I mean... you haven't worked out yet, right? Back and biceps today?"

She shot you an accusatory glance. "No."

"Oh, come on, baby."

"Cannot believe you came all the way over here just to watch me lift."

You poked your bottom lip out.

“Oh, stop.” She pinched you in your rib.

"You see this? This is me pouting."

Sevika's willpower may have been stronger than yours, but it wasn't infinitely unyielding. A small twitch of her lip broke through; the facade cracked.

"You see this?" she retorted, pointing at her left side. Her shoulder twitched. "This is me flipping you off right now."

"Oh, fuck off." You pushed at her collar playfully.

"If you just wanted to see me flex..." And she did. Her bicep and shoulder bunched and coiled; veins decorated her beautiful skin. Your gaze darted from the sculpted lines between her muscles to the tuft of hair under her arm to the stupid, smug smile spreading across her face. "...all you had to do was ask."

...

And you very well could have died right then and there.

"Hah, look at you. Your face. Every time." Sevika nuzzled her nose in your neck and collar. Breathed you in. "Help me work out and shower with me after?"

"Hmm... That's tough. I get to see you sweat, but then I have to deal with a cold shower? After you just made fun of me? I dunno, Vika."

"I think that’s fair considering you only came over to see me push my bicep in your face."

"Okay, first off, that’s not why I came early. And second, counteroffer: warm shower and…” You pondered for a moment then graced the shell of her ear with your whispered plan. “…I’ll let you fuck my face before we leave. Or…maybe in the restroom while we’re out?”

As you pulled away, Sevika’s brow lifted slowly. Her eyes caught yours and her nose creased with her growing smirk. “Mierda… Should just let you handle all of Silco’s negotiations instead, huh?”

“So, that a deal?”

“Deal.”

------

taglist: @gaudesstuff @archangeldyke-all @abitohoney @sexysapphicshopowner @iamaboringrattat

@ash-fall7 @the-anonmaton

[yameoto]

perv!patrick Zweig with a scent kink methinks. (OUGHHHH im having thoughts.)

imagine this mf being your roommate, and you’re just like “oh he seems nice! i hope we’re friends!”

next thing you know, you overhear him whining, and moaning right next to YOUR bed. he’s totally not jerking off using your underwear/any other piece of your clothing, sniffing it, slobbering all over the fabric—

(he would definitely cum on your underwear with no shame. and he’d had clueless when you ask him if he knows why your underwear keeps going missing). he’s obsessed with your natural scent, and lowkey hates it when you wear perfume/cologne to cover it up.

to put it lightly, he pops a boner everything he smells you. hehe 😁

good lord, i have (SO MANY. too many, actually.) other thoughts on the characters of this silly little tennis movie. you didn’t ask but..

you shall receive anyway 🫡🫵

perv!roommate patrick w a scent kink… oh i think the concept of your musk mixing wld drive him crazy. sifting through your dirty laundry like the freak he is and pressing your damp, freshly jacked-off panties to his nose.

and yeah, he’ll lounge back in bed with one hand fisting his cock and the other rubbing your dank panties to his face, of course. but he’ll wanna wear them, too. he’ll take some sick perverted pleasure in that it’s your underwear that his balls are swamping up as he plays hours of tennis under the sun. that it’s your underwear his dick is swelling up against, darkening the fabric in spurts of his precum. that it’s your underwear he has to pull aside to give his sack room to breathe, adjusting them as he walks. and yeah. your underwear that he’ll eventually drench in several fresh loads of cum. wrapping them round his dick and moaning n bucking like wild as if he’s fucking your cunt and not the barest impression of it.

perv!roommate patrick who comes back from practice all sweaty n gross. his skin is sticky, damp clothes clinging to his body, hair plastered to his forehead like he’s just been dunked in water. and of course when he gets back the first thing he does is collapse onto your nice, clean sheets. making a show of rubbing his face into your pillow (and grinding his growing hard-on into your mattress) before you yelp. shove him off. playful.

though, it’s not like you can stop him when you’re not around. the amount of times he’s treated himself after practice; rolling around your sheets like a pig in the mud is countless. patrick’s face buried in your pillow as he huffs the scent of you. dragging his nose further, further down the mattress to press against where your crotch might be and creaming in his pants immediately. grunting like an animal as he humps your blankets n pretending it’s your face. he’s definitely jacked off in your bed, too—once or twice. don’t worry, that old t-shirt you left lying around makes for an excellent cumrag.

perv!roommate patrick just leaving his mark everywhere because maybe if you smell like him, too, then he can pretend that you’re his, for real.

[vingtetunmars]

Baby, Come To Me

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Eddie Munson

Summary: Eddie Munson, capitalist-hater and full-time menace, makes it a point to visit Scoops Ahoy three times a week—not for the ice cream, but to get a rise out of one Steve Harrington. At least, that’s what Robin thinks.

Part 2 / Part 3

Tags: fluff, humor, teasing, slow burn, a little POV outsider, Eddie's a menace, secret relationship, developing relationship, Steve bisexual awakening, and it's Eddie Munson, a bit of internalized homophobia, Steve is severely touch starved, Steve is also stubborn, Eddie is a sweetheart, and a romantic.

A/N: I can't get out of this place 😔 mama, i'm back in the mf house. the 2022 steddie house. If you have any requests, suggestions, or thoughts, feel free to send me a message. Reblogs are appreciated. Please do not steal or cross-post it on another platform without asking. Thank you.

Word Count: 3.7k

masterlist

It was a Tuesday.

Which meant, of course, Eddie Munson would be there.

Robin clocked it first—how like clockwork Eddie showed up three times a week. Always during Steve’s shift. Never bought ice cream. Always left smirking. She didn’t think much of it, maybe Eddie was just bored and weird and liked messing with the former King of Hawkins High.

The familiar sound of chain rattling came right on cue, 3:12 p.m. sharp, and Robin looked up from the register just in time to see Eddie stroll in, rings glinting and leather jacket somehow not suffocating him in the heat.

Steve didn’t even need to look up. He sighed like a man preparing for battle.

“Here we go.”

“Ahoy, sailor,” Eddie drawled, sauntering up to the counter like he owned the joint. He leaned on the glass, face close to the smudged sneeze guard. “You miss me, Harrington?”

Steve turned to face him with that long-suffering look that Robin had grown to love.

“You know this is an ice cream shop, right? We sell ice cream. Not whatever weird attention you’re fishing for.”

Eddie grinned, unbothered, brushing a strand of hair behind his ear with exaggerated grace. “You wound me. I came for the delightful customer service. And maybe for a glimpse of your shiny golden hair under that stupid hat.”

“It’s part of the uniform.”

“And yet, somehow, you manage to make it sexy.”

Robin nearly choked on her gum.

Steve’s face twitched. He always did this thing—looked like he was going to either throw a punch or bolt. But instead, he grabbed the scoop and leaned down into the freezer, pretending to be busy.

“You want something or not, Munson?”

Eddie tapped the glass like he was genuinely thinking about it. “What’s the most expensive thing here?”

Robin crossed her arms, watching the exchange like it was her weekly sitcom. “It’s all under five bucks. You’re not impressing anyone.”

“I’m not trying to impress anyone,” Eddie said with mock innocence, gaze flicking to Steve. “Just making conversation with my favorite sailor.”

Steve stood back up and slammed a cone down on the counter. “Congratulations. It’s vanilla. Just like your sense of humor.”

Eddie laughed, genuinely this time, and pulled a crumpled dollar out of his back pocket. He slid it across the counter with two fingers, slow and smug. “Keep the change, big boy.”

Steve didn’t respond. He just turned and shoved the cone into the holder a little harder than necessary.

Robin caught Eddie’s eye over the counter. He winked at her like they were co-conspirators in some unspoken joke. She rolled her eyes but couldn’t fight the smile tugging at her lips.

“See you Thursday, Harrington,” Eddie called, heading backward toward the door like a man exiting a stage.

Steve muttered something under his breath that sounded like I hate that guy.

Robin leaned in. “You know he only does this to mess with you, right?”

“Yeah. Obviously.”

But he was still staring at the door long after Eddie was gone.

Then Thursday came.

Eddie had come in earlier than usual, twirling a lollipop between his teeth like it was some kind of prop. He’d leaned so far over the counter that Steve had threatened to dump fudge on his boots. The usual performance—loud voice, lazy smirks, dramatic declarations of affection. Eddie left with a single scoop of chocolate, after tasting all the flavors like he was a connoisseur, tossed a salute toward Steve, and waltzed out the door like nothing happened.

Robin waited a beat, then glanced at Steve, who had gone quiet, wiping down the counter with unnecessary force.

She nudged him lightly with her elbow.

“Hey,” she said, keeping her voice low. “Can I ask you something?”

Steve didn’t look up. “If it’s about why Eddie Munson is clinically insane, I don’t have an answer.”

“No, I mean…” She paused, then tilted her head, watching him closely. “Are you okay with it? With him coming in like that? I mean, I know he’s trying to be funny, but if it’s making you uncomfortable or anything, you can tell me. I’ll say something.”

Steve stopped wiping.

For a second, she couldn’t tell what he was thinking. Then he tossed the rag onto the counter and shook his head with a small huff of laughter.

“It’s fine, Buckley,” he said, finally meeting her eyes. “It’s just Munson being Munson. He’s harmless.”

Robin raised an eyebrow. “You sure?”

“Yeah. He’s not doing anything wrong. Just likes to get a rise out of me.” He shrugged, trying to sound casual, but Robin caught something tight in the corner of his mouth. “I mean, I'm pretty sure it's just a joke.”

She nodded slowly. “Okay. Just checking. You don’t exactly seem chill about it.”

“I’m fine.”

Robin let it drop, but she kept watching him as he turned to stack cups. His movements were a little too deliberate. Like he was trying not to think too hard about something.

And when someone came in again—just a customer this time, a mom with a screaming toddler—Robin noticed how quickly Steve’s eyes flicked to it. Like part of him had been hoping it was Eddie again.

Or maybe dreading it.

She couldn’t tell which.

It was Saturday.

Steve was manning the counter alone for most of the afternoon, Robin having disappeared into the back to restock the waffle cone boxes and fight the industrial freezer. She came back out with a puff of cold air at her heels and a box in her arms—just in time to see the back of Eddie Munson’s denim vest as he stepped away from the counter.

“See ya, Steve,” Eddie said, voice low, a little quieter than usual. Not laced with sarcasm or smirking bravado—just… soft. A little rough around the edges, like it hadn’t been smoothed out into a punchline yet.

Robin blinked, freezing mid-step as Eddie pushed the door open and let it swing shut behind him.

Steve didn’t look up. He was fiddling with the napkin dispenser, pretending it was jammed.

“Was that Munson?” she asked casually, walking over.

“Yeah.”

“Huh.” She glanced at the door, then back at him. “He didn’t shout anything dumb this time. Kind of felt like I walked into the middle of a normal conversation.”

Steve scoffed, but it lacked real bite. “Nah, same old. He came in, said some crap about how I looked like a lost sailor searching for his true north, then left with a cone of butter pecan.”

Robin snorted. “Okay, that’s on brand.”

“Exactly.”

He finally got the dispenser open and grabbed a stack of napkins, too forcefully. Robin didn’t push. The way he kept his eyes firmly on the counter told her enough.

So she let it go.

The mall was mostly empty by the time Steve finished wiping down the last counter. The lights were dimmed, the air still holding the faint, cloying scent of fudge and waffle cones. He locked up Scoops Ahoy with practiced ease, gave a cursory glance around the food court, and headed toward the parking lot with his hands shoved in his pockets.

His BMW sat right where he left it. But Steve didn’t head toward the driver’s side.

He slowed.

Looked around.

A quick scan of the lot—no security guards, no straggling teens, just the buzz of fluorescent lights and the distant hum of cicadas.

Then, he turned on his heel and walked straight to the rusty, brown van parked two spots over.

The back door creaked when he opened it, but he slipped in quickly and shut it behind him. The scent inside was familiar—cheap cologne, weed, and something uniquely Eddie.

“Hey,” Steve said, breath already catching.

Eddie didn’t answer.

He just reached over and grabbed Steve by the collar, dragging him into a kiss that landed somewhere between desperate and reverent. Their mouths collided with a low noise, teeth clashing for a second before they found rhythm, and then it was all hands and exhales and the sound of breath quickening in the small space.

Steve let himself be pulled in further, one of Eddie’s rings cold against the back of his neck, grounding him. Eddie’s hand slid up into his hair, tugging just enough to make Steve exhale into his mouth, pliant and eager.

“Missed you,” Eddie muttered against his lips.

Steve laughed, a little breathless. “You saw me, like, six hours ago.”

Eddie leaned in again, kissing the corner of Steve’s mouth, then his jaw, voice softer now. “Still missed you.”

Steve’s fingers curled into the fabric of Eddie’s worn shirt. “You really gotta flirt with me in front of Robin like that?”

“That’s not flirting,” Eddie said with a grin. “That’s foreplay.”

Steve groaned into his shoulder. “You’re gonna get us caught.”

“Relax.” Eddie cupped the side of his face gently, thumb brushing along his cheek. “We’re careful.”

Steve turned slightly, pressing a kiss to Eddie’s palm before resting his forehead against it.

For a long moment, neither of them moved. The van was still, fog building slightly on the windows, their bodies warm in the confined space.

Eddie was the first to break the silence. He leaned back just a bit, hand now resting lightly on Steve’s thigh, thumb drawing lazy circles.

“You okay?” he asked, quieter now. Real.

Steve nodded. “Yeah. Just tired. Long day.”

Eddie’s thumb stilled. “You wanna crash at my place tonight?”

Steve hesitated—only because he always did, calculating the odds of someone seeing his car there. But he nodded.

“Yeah. I do.”

Eddie grinned, wide and genuine, and leaned in for another kiss—this one slow, tender, almost shy.

Steve melted into it.

He always did.

1984

The air outside bit colder than Steve expected.

He rubbed his hands together and stuffed them into the pockets of his jacket, breath visible as he exhaled hard. The music inside Tina’s house pulsed faintly through the windows, muffled now, like it belonged to another world. One where Nancy wasn’t drunk, crying, and calling their whole relationship “bullshit.”

He should’ve yelled. But he couldn’t.

So he stormed out. He just needed to breathe.

A flick of orange light sparked in the darkness off to the side, barely visible past the row of parked cars. Steve turned toward it instinctively, eyes adjusting.

A figure leaned against the back of a dented van, one boot propped against the bumper, cigarette glowing faint between two fingers.

Then a voice, low and lazy, drifted through the shadows.

“Trouble in paradise?”

Steve’s jaw clenched.

“Jesus, Munson.”

Eddie grinned around the cigarette, clearly pleased to have startled him. “Didn’t mean to scare the prom king. You looked like you were about to throw up.”

Steve didn’t answer. He looked away, trying to decide if it was worth walking the other direction.

Eddie took a drag and let the silence stretch before adding, “Girlfriend drama?”

Steve shifted his weight. “You always hang around high school parties you weren’t invited to?”

Eddie lifted his beer bottle in mock salute. “I go where the business goes, Harrington. Rich kids and bad decisions—can’t beat the market.”

Steve rolled his eyes but didn’t leave.

The silence felt heavier this time, made worse by the chill that crept into his jacket sleeves. Eddie didn’t say anything else, just stood there watching him with those sharp, knowing eyes. Steve hated how he always looked like he knew more than he should.

“You don’t have to pretend like you care,” Steve said finally, not looking at him. “You don’t even like me.”

Eddie shrugged. “I don’t have to like someone to notice when they look like shit.”

That made Steve scoff under his breath, just barely.

Eddie took another drag, then flicked some ash onto the gravel.

“She say something?” he asked, softer now.

Steve paused. “Yeah.”

Eddie waited.

“She said... it was all bullshit.” Steve let out a bitter laugh. “Me. Us. Everything.”

Eddie whistled low under his breath. “Damn.”

He didn’t offer sympathy. Didn’t pat Steve on the back or tell him Nancy didn’t mean it. And somehow, Steve appreciated that more.

“You wanna hit?” Eddie asked after a beat, holding out the cigarette between two fingers.

Steve looked at it, hesitated, then took it. He inhaled awkwardly—because he'd only done it occasionally—and coughed a little, earning a low chuckle from Eddie.

“Yeah,” Steve muttered, handing it back. “Real funny.”

“Gotta find joy somewhere.”

They stood in silence again, the only sound the faint echo of party noise and the crackle of Eddie’s smoke.

“I don’t get you,” Steve said suddenly.

Eddie raised a brow. “Yeah? I don’t get you either, King Steve.”

“I’m not—” Steve stopped himself. Shook his head. “Whatever.”

Eddie just looked at him, eyes unreadable. “You know... you don’t have to keep pretending like you don’t care. About any of it.”

Steve frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” Eddie said quickly, a little too quickly. He pushed off the van, dropping the cigarette and crushing it under his boot. “Just forget it.”

He started walking toward the house, but before he disappeared into the shadows, he paused.

“Get home safe, Harrington.”

And then he was gone.

Steve stayed outside a while longer, watching the glow of the cigarette fade into the dirt, wondering why that random comment—you don’t have to pretend—had hit harder than anything Nancy had said all night.

Steve had no reason to be hanging around the side entrance of the school. First period had already started. He wasn’t even sure what his plan was—maybe to bail, maybe to walk in late, maybe to stall long enough that no one would look at him too long.

He leaned against the cold brick wall, the sting in his ribs flaring with every shift of his weight. His face was still a mess—bruises blooming purple under one eye, a cut just at the corner of his lip, and the fading shadow of Billy Hargrove’s ring across his cheekbone.

He told people it was a basketball fight. No one questioned it. No one really cared.

He heard footsteps before he saw him. Heavy boots, familiar and deliberate.

Eddie Munson rounded the corner with his denim jacket over a threadbare hoodie, binder under one arm, a Walkman clipped to his belt.

He slowed when he saw Steve.

Then smirked.

“Well, well. If it isn’t Pretty Boy Harrington. You look like you went twelve rounds with a lawnmower.”

Steve let out a tired snort, not quite a laugh. “That the best you’ve got?”

Eddie tilted his head, stepping closer. His eyes roved over Steve’s face, lingered for a beat too long on the cut near his mouth. “Nah, I’m pacing myself.”

Steve shifted against the wall, biting back a wince. “Don’t you have class?”

“Don’t you?”

“Touché.”

Eddie leaned his shoulder against the wall beside him, just out of arm’s reach. He tapped his fingers against his binder. “So… what happened?”

“Does it matter?”

Eddie shrugged. “Not really. Just curious what could’ve made King Steve look like a chew toy.”

Steve didn’t respond.

Eddie, for once, didn’t push. He glanced away, chewing on his lip ring thoughtfully before speaking again—quieter this time.

“Look… if you need something to take the edge off…” He looked back at Steve, voice casual but careful. “I know pills suck, and if you’re hurting—really hurting—I’ve got other stuff. Not gonna make you float or anything. Just… help you breathe easier.”

Steve blinked.

“You’re offering me weed?”

“I’m offering you peace, man,” Eddie said with a crooked grin. “Temporary peace. With a killer soundtrack, if you stick around long enough.”

Steve looked at him—really looked at him. At the messy curls and the dirt under his nails, at the way he hid sharpness behind jokes but didn’t seem to enjoy the act today.

“You always this generous to people you don’t like?” Steve asked, arms crossed.

Eddie’s grin faded just a little. “Nah. Just the ones who look like they’ve forgotten what it’s like to be touched without it hurting.”

Steve swallowed.

The bell rang in the distance.

Neither of them moved.

Eventually, Eddie pushed off the wall and turned to go, but before he rounded the corner, he tossed a glance back.

“Offer stands.”

And then he disappeared into the hallway.

The school emptied out slowly, the sounds of slamming lockers and clunky boots fading into the hum of engines and teenagers peeling off in hand-me-down cars. Steve stayed put, leaning against a tree at the edge of the parking lot, arms crossed tightly over his chest. He watched Eddie’s beat-up van like it might disappear if he blinked.

He wasn’t even sure why he was doing this.

Well—he was. His ribs still throbbed when he breathed too deep, and the Tylenol wasn’t doing jack. But it wasn’t just the pain. It was the quiet. The space between each breath. He couldn’t stop hearing Nancy’s voice in his head, couldn’t stop picturing Billy’s fist coming down again and again, couldn’t stop feeling like everything he’d known about himself was unraveling, thread by golden thread.

So when Eddie finally strolled up to his van—late as always, spinning his keys around his fingers like a sideshow act—Steve straightened, suddenly unsure.

Eddie paused when he noticed him.

“Well, well,” Eddie said, tossing his guitar case into the back of the van. “Didn’t think you’d actually show.”

Steve shrugged. “You said the offer stood.”

Eddie unlocked the driver’s side, swung the door open, then glanced at Steve over the roof. “Hate to break it to you, Harrington, but I’m tapped out.”

Steve’s face fell, but he tried to cover it with a shrug. “Oh. Alright, no big deal—”

“But,” Eddie cut in, tossing his backpack inside, “I’ve got some back at my place. If you’re serious.”

Steve hesitated. He chewed the inside of his cheek, eyes flicking to the now half-empty parking lot. There was no reason to say yes. No reason to follow a guy he barely spoke to, let alone trusted.

Except… maybe there was.

“Yeah,” Steve said finally. “Sure. I’ll follow you.”

Eddie raised his eyebrows, surprised—but not displeased.

“Alright then.” He climbed in and started the engine, the van grumbling to life like it resented being woken up. He leaned out the open window. “Try not to lose me, Harrington. She’s got the speed of a wounded turtle.”

Steve gave a tired smile and jogged back to his BMW.

Just for the quiet.

Just for tonight.

The trailer creaked underfoot as Eddie unlocked the door and pushed it open with his shoulder.

“My uncle's already at work,” he said over his shoulder. “Won’t be back ’til late. We’ve got the place to ourselves.”

Steve stepped inside slowly, eyes sweeping over the space. It was dim, a little cluttered, but not dirty. The couch cushions didn’t match, and there were empty mugs and hats hanging on the wall, scattered guitar picks on the counter, a stack of records leaning beside the old turntable. It smelled like laundry that didn’t fully dry and a hint of incense—not unpleasant, just lived-in.

It was the first time Steve had been somewhere that felt real in a while. No pretense. No curated shelf of family photos or perfectly fluffed throw pillows.

Just Eddie.

He didn’t know what he expected. But it wasn’t this.

“You can sit,” Eddie said, already moving to the kitchen cabinet. “I’m not gonna bite unless you ask nice.”

Steve rolled his eyes and eased down on the couch, wincing a little as the cushions shifted under him. His ribs still ached. He tried not to show it.

Eddie returned a moment later with a small tin box in his hands. He plopped down on the floor in front of the coffee table, cross-legged, and popped it open—revealing a neat stash of rolling papers, a grinder, and a little bag of weed.

He got to work like it was second nature. Steve watched him, quiet.

Eddie didn’t look up. “So, how much you want? I can roll you a few, you pay, I pretend to care about your music taste, and you get to pretend you’re a rebel for the weekend.”

Steve hesitated. “...Yeah. About that.”

Eddie stopped mid-grind and finally looked up.

Steve scratched the back of his neck. “I don’t—uh. I don’t actually know how to smoke it.”

Eddie blinked.

Then blinked again.

“No shit?”

Steve shrugged, a little sheepish. “Cigarettes sometimes. Not… this.”

Eddie stared for another beat, then laughed—a real one, bright and sharp. “Oh my god. You’re adorable.”

“Don’t say that.”

“No, seriously.” He grinned as he started rolling. “You showed up at my van like some kind of sad ex-quarterback turned burnout-in-training and didn’t even know what to do with the stuff?”

“I thought it was like… you just light it and inhale.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Eddie said, tone mock-sweet. “You’re gonna die if you try to go full joint solo on your first time. Nah. We’re sharing.”

Steve furrowed his brow. “You sure?”

“Steve. The last thing I need is for you to go home high as hell with your lungs on fire and think I gave you some bad shit. We’re doing it the safe way.”

He finished the joint with practiced hands, sealed the edge, and leaned back against the coffee table. Then he patted the spot on the floor beside him.

“C’mon. Sit. I’ll guide you through the magical world of mellowing out.”

Steve hesitated only a second before sliding off the couch and settling next to him on the rug, shoulder just brushing Eddie’s as he sat.

He could hear Eddie strike the lighter, see the flick of flame out of the corner of his eye.

“Alright, Harrington,” Eddie said, bringing the joint to his lips and taking a slow, practiced drag. He let the smoke curl out from the corner of his mouth before passing it over. “Gentle puff. Don’t hold it like it’s oxygen. Just ease into it.”

Steve took it.

Their fingers brushed.

The joint was warm where Eddie’s mouth had been.

And Steve, despite himself, followed the instructions. Slow inhale. Not too deep. Not too fast.

The burn surprised him. The slight cough that followed, less so.

Eddie laughed again, softer this time. “That’s it. Not bad.”

Steve passed it back, eyes watering a little. “It tastes like a forest lit on fire.”

“You’ll learn to love it.”

Steve huffed, but he didn’t move away.

They sat there in silence for a while, passing it back and forth, knees touching, breaths syncing slowly with the drifting haze in the room.

Part 2

—comment if you wanna be added to this fic taglist

taglist: @steddiethrowaway1 @mangoinacan13

[drakudoll]

hi chat *taps mic too hard and causes severe hearing damage* CHARLIE WHO'S A SECRET NASTY FREAKSTER. THANKS. this is mildly rushed whoops?

Charlie Slimecicle x afab!reader (no specific fem titles or names)

Warnings!: filth. awful. scent kink, obsessive behavior, rough sex, hickeys/marking, hard dom charlie (whoa) 18+ MDNI ILL BOMB YOU.

Charlie really hadn't meant to get this close to you. Or... well... in you. It started with him meeting you through mutual friends, and one thing led to another and after a week you guys finally hungout and it's like he knew everything about your intrests and was so attentive during conversation.

Little did you know he had stalked you and your friends for the entire week to understand you fully. How'd he find your socials? Don't ask :).

You remember how touchy he was. Confident in being so openly close and affectionate. Hm. Maybe it was just how he was with everyone. Until you noticed how possesive he was when in a group setting. He always needed you close to him and would trudge around like a lost mutt when you'd go to something even just moving rooms at a friends house he would follow and joke about how you're just his favorite person ever.

After a few weeks you notice you keep loosing items of yours--specifically clothes. You ask Charlie if he's seen them whenever he comes over or leaves and he always gives you a heartfelt, equally as confused reply and expression. If only you knew that he'd been nabbing all your pretty worn items to sniff them and suffocate himself with them while jerking off to the thought of you.

It's been a month now and you are Charlie are hell of a lot more than friends. You guys makeout all the time and he's nearly fingered you under the tables when out with friends. And now you've invited him inside after a group hangout and it's nearing 1 AM... you clearly want more than just a drink with him inside don't you?

And god you proved him right so quickly. Pulling him in to kiss you roughly, moving back wards towards your room while he's shaking and fumbling with your top--his breathing ragged and tight in his chest as he nears a hyperventilating like pace of breathing while thinking of everything god awful thing he's needed to do to you.

Now he's here: holding you down while you whine and squirm over how roughly he's leaving these big borderline bloody marks on places you very obviously can't hide, he's grinding himself between your legs and ignoring how needy you are to satisfy his own vigorous pursuit of need.

Soon enough he's got your entire body pinned stomach first on your cute little bed, Your wrists tightly pressed into the curve of your back while he jackhammers his surpisingly lengthy dick into you with such a force you fear he might break something--you or your belongings.

"O-oooh baby!-baby baby baby! yes! fuuuck how i've thought of this for sooo fucking long!" His hands are pressing so hard into your back it's causing your back to bow into a deep harsh bend while you gasp and scream into your mattress from his force. Barely registering his past tense wording. "Mm! Mm!? Wh-what do you-ah!-mean?!" your words high pitched and whiney as your tone is seemingly growing less concerned about it because of how good he's fucking you into your now completely fucked up bed.

"Ohh sweetheart you think i just so h-mmfuck-how liked the same-ah!-stuff you did? Where d'you think all-..mmh!-... those clothes went, Huh?" A thick lack of words falls between you as your moans are hushed and shallow as you start to realize Charlie had been behind so many things that had gone missing and that he had initially stalked you into liking him.

And somehow. That didn't seem to bother you much.

- billie, hornier than a mf at 12 am. your welc nasties.

[chen-chens]

Swee-hee-hee-heet! I Transferred to a New School and the Seven Hottest and Most Popular Boys There Fell For Me?!

SUMMARY: in which you find yourself in your own romance en-drama?!

GENRE: Rom-com, reverse harem, high school romance

MAIN CHARACTERS: Reader (Y/N), Lee Heeseung, Jay Park, Jake Shim, Park Sunghoon, Kim Sunoo, Yang Jungwon, Nishimura Riki

ADDITIONAL TAGS: #probably ooc but im doing my best, #hyung line + sunoo + reader are same grade but jungwon + niki are a year under, #SOOO much cringe shit, #love octagon(??), #every romance trope under the mf sun, more to be added

A/N: i started writing this cuz the ending of en-drama was SOOOO unsatisfying that i just had to try and fix it. this is not serious at all but let's all enjoy some delulu together lol! this is also my first time posting anything on tumblr so lowkey i have no idea what i'm doing so pls excuse any awkward formatting and tagging! ty!!

ONE: Fateful Beginnings

Call it cliché, or call it stupid, but you were scrambling off the bus and sprinting down the street in a mad dash with half a frozen waffle in between your teeth, repeating a mantra in your head: Holy shit, I’m gonna be SO late.

You probably looked like an insane person to the common bystander with the frantic look in your eyes, haphazardly donned uniform, and shoes completely undone, and if you weren't freaking out, then maybe you would've had the decency to be a little more embarrassed. Decency was a commodity you had forsaken on this early morning, however, since it was only the evening before that your parents had made you swear up and done that you would do your best to be a most dutiful, attentive, and punctual student at your brand new private school they had busted their asses to get you into. All you had done, though, was nod without really listening, before spending the wee hours of the night reading and giggling about webtoons. 

If the school reported that you had missed the first period, if your parents caught wind of what you had done… Well, you shuddered at the consequences that would surely follow. It was better that you run like your life depended on it (which it did), lung integrity be damned.

It took a while, but you finally arrived at Decelis Academy, beet red in the face and huffing and puffing like you were about to die (which you were). It was a thing of beauty, especially in the cool, fall sunshine: soaring, gothic stone walls with ivy trellises adorning the bricks, big windows and stained glass decorating the walls, and a high and elegant tower jutting out from the middle. You grimaced, though, at the sight of a severe-faced, stern-looking man in a suit at the entrance of the school angrily scolding a shivering student with a wagging finger. The scolding seemed to last forever, and eventually, the student entered through the intricate stone gates with a hung head while the teacher returned to scouting the school perimeter with narrowed eyes. You took to jumping behind an electric pole for shelter.

If I get caught by him, I’m screwed! You could imagine the royal beating in your future already once the school called home, and it made you break into a cold sweat. Instead, you started looking around at the fences for some way to scale the walls (if you started to think about what would happen once you got inside the school, your head started to hurt. You’d get to that later). C’mon, think, THINK!

First, you ducked behind various poles, trees, and shrubs to run around the corner to a side where there was no teacher on the lookout for awful, disobedient students such as yourself. Then, you began feeling the stone walls for something, anything to grab onto, but let out a frustrated groan at the realization that a rich-ass school like this kept its walls extremely well-maintained. There was nary a single crack, save for the lines of mortar between the large gray stones. If you had to guess, the wall was at least ten feet tall, and even with a running start, you would barely be able to reach eight feet. Maybe if you could gather some things to step on…

You checked your phone and paled. You were already five minutes late; not enough for a call home yet, but it wouldn’t stay that way for long. There wasn’t enough time to scrabble something together for that plan! 

Frantically, you looked to and fro for something to help you vault over the wall; a stick, bouncy shoes, a convenient pile of rocks, anything! However, your eyes locked onto something—or rather, someone— approaching from a distance at a brisk jog. As they came closer, you realized it was a boy about your age in the Decelis Academy’s suited uniform. His brows were furrowed and his cat-like eyes were narrowed, making his round, youthful face look rather stressed out. His messy, fluffy brown hair bounced as he ran.

You stared at him as he approached for probably too long. He was… actually, really, insanely, horribly cute. But that was besides the point. A person would actually make a great step stool in your current predicament and, well, the panic was starting to boil over in your throat. You were willing to sacrifice a cute boy to not meet your death once school was over.

“Hey! Um, excuse me?!” you called out to the boy as he neared. He turned to look at you with adorably widened eyes before coming to a stop at your side, though he seemed to anxiously glance towards the entrance of the school. You squinted to read the nametag pinned to his school coat: “Yang Jungwon.”

“Yeah? Are you okay?” Yang Jungwon asked worriedly, brows knit together. He looked towards the direction of the school gate again. “If it’s nothing too urgent, I’m running a little late for class and—”

“Mhmm, I see you go to Decelis too,” you interrupted with a frantic wave of your hand. You were not about to let this opportunity slip through your fingers! “Listen, I’m late too! It's my first day here. and I am completely and royally fucked if I get caught by that teacher at the gates. Could you please give me a boost up the wall?” You pointed up the walls with wide, pleading eyes.

Jungwon blinked. Then, he said slowly, “You… want me to help you climb over the wall so you don’t get caught by Mr. Kim?”

You frowned. “Uh, yeaaaah? Didn’t I just say that?”

The boy rubbed his nape. Suddenly, he just looked really confused. “Yeah, but this… this is a first for me,” he said awkwardly. “No one’s ever asked me to do this, y’know? I’m not supposed to be helping students break the rules…” 

Oh no. He’s a goody-two-shoes. You thought as you paled. Just your luck; you weren’t even a delinquent, but of course the first time you tried something like this in a moment of sheer desperation, you found yourself at the hands of a teacher’s pet, a shining beacon of morality like the boy in front of you (maybe you were exaggerating, but you were stressed out!). 

Panicked, you clasped your hands together in prayer, squeezed your eyes shut, and dropped to your bare knees on the hard cement sidewalk, which hurt more than you cared to admit. You ignored Jungwon’s sounds of shock, intense befuddlement, and subsequent pleas for you to get back up as you yelled out, “Please! I know you don’t know me and I don’t know you, but I will owe you for the rest of my life! Just please help me get over the wall!”

“I—” Jungwon stammered. You opened an eye to see Jungwon’s face flustered as he looked around with a worried expression. He looked back at you, face stricken with something between horror, incredible concern, and confusion before he sighed. Quickly, he put down his backpack before asking, “What do you need?”

“Yes, thank you!” You nearly cried in relief, jumping up from the ground like a spring in immense joy. Rolling up the sleeves of your sweater as Jungwon did the same, you beckoned Jungwon closer to the wall. “Here; I’m gonna get a running start. I need you to hold your hands out like this—” you linked your hands together and pressed them downwards, creating a foothold, “—which I’m gonna step on, then boost me up so I can reach the top and pull myself up!” you declared with a fist of determination. There was no way this would go wrong. 

Jungwon muttered something along the lines of it’s too early for this under his breath before he squatted down against the wall and positioned his hand just as you demonstrated. In the meantime, you backed up a considerable distance before calling out to him, “You ready?!” 

“Yeah—”

“HAAAAAAAAH….!” You let out a roar of pure adrenaline and determination as you charged towards the wall at full speed, allowing the power of anime and manga to fill you. With mighty leaps and bounds, you hopped into Jungwon’s surprisingly sturdy hands and jumped as high as you could up the wall, with a boost from the boy beneath you.

Thankfully, you were able to reach the edge of the stones at the very top, just as you had hoped. Unfortunately, you were not the most athletic person in the world, and you found yourself struggling to pull yourself up and over. The wall suddenly seemed like an insurmountable mountain, and the beating by your parents seemed very real all of a sudden.

You looked down to Jungwon, who was bearing a good amount of your weight with great concentration while determinedly craning his head far, far away from your direction. “Hey! Can you push me up a little higher, please?” you called. After a moment of staring at him, you also added, “So, why is your neck like that?”

“Uh….” he replied as he hiked you upwards a few more inches with a bit of effort. After a few moments of your continued scrabbling, Jungwon boosted you up even higher and grunted out, “Well, I don't want any misunderstandings about what I’m looking at from down here…”

You paused in your mad attempts to heave yourself over the wall to glance back down at the very, insanely cute boy whose hands you had literally placed your life in. His face was bright red, possibly from exertion or from the frankly compromising position you had forced him into, and his neck was painfully turned away from you. “Huh. I hadn’t even thought about that,” you said honestly. You wore athletic shorts under your school-sanctioned plaid skirt anyways, and amidst the utter panic of your current situation, it really had not crossed your mind at all. “I see you doing your best, though, so it’s no worries! Just a little higher—”

“Hey! Who’s over here?!” an irritated voice yelled out from your left. “If you’re late, you’re in big trouble!”

“Shit!” you and Jungwon swore. Maybe your encouraging, awe-inspiring yell had not been your smartest move of the morning. You turned to him and begged, “I’m sorry, just a little more—ACK!”

In your desperate plea, Jungwon suddenly achieved some burst of freaky human strength and launched you upwards hard enough to send your upper body up and over the stone wall finally. You breathed a sigh of relief as you brought your legs over the wall, which you quickly sucked back in as you heard that same voice from before yell, “Hey, you there! Come here!”

You turned to Jungwon, who was heaving heavily, and said in your loudest whisper voice, “Thank you, I owe you my life! I’ll come find you and repay you!” 

“Just go! Before he comes!” Jungwon called back in the same tone while frantically shooing you away with his hands. You nodded before hurriedly sliding down the other side of the wall, allowing yourself to drop once you had gotten closer to the bottom.

Your feet had hardly touched the ground before you heard stomping dress shoes approach where Jungwon was, followed by an angry and noisy tirade of biblical proportions.

“Yang Jungwon! How could you be so late?! And what was all that yelling about?!” the teacher, Mr. Kim, ranted. 

Faintly, you heard Jungwon say between breaths, “I’m sorry, Ssaem, the bus was late and I had to run here… It’s, uh, been a stressful morning and I read an article about how yelling when you’re stressed releases endorphins so I tried that—”

“Honestly, Jungwon, don’t you think the student body president should be better than this? I’ll let you off with just a warning because this is the first time and you’re normally so diligent, but…”

You let out a silent groan. How could you implicate the student body president of all people? Just your luck. You were sure you totally ruined his probably stellar reputation, so now you owed him even more so. You may be a lazy person at heart, but you would never let a favor go unrewarded!

You looked at your phone and nearly screamed—10 minutes late! With that, you began to sprint towards the main entrance, sending a prayer upwards that you weren’t too late and that you had met someone like Yang Jungwon in your time of need. 

next!

taglist: to be added!

[makochi-furin]

THE THREE WAYS THAT KAJI REN PROTECTS YOU

A/N: Hi, all. This is an example format of one of my types of structures for writing this sort of content. This is a hc-scenario mix :)

WARNING(s): sexual harassment, reader is backhanded (not by kaji)

—Kaji Ren doesn't play when it comes to his s/o. He's well known for his temper, and has quite a short fuse. That's why he wears his headphones and always has a sucker: so he can't hear someone talk shit and snap, and so he can't say anything back to make the confrontation worse. He actively does his best to control this part of him—the part that wants to break a mf's jaw. When it comes to his s/o, he's even more likely to temper it down. When it comes to someone messing with his s/o, bets are off

—He's very gentle with you. He's very aware of himself around you, and how he can be scary and rough around the edges. The last thing he wants is for you to feel unsafe in his presence, or scared of him. He really does his best to not act like a delinquent around you. Really. He tries so hard, yall

—You have probably heard of some of the things he's done, particularly from the townsfolk who go on and on about how amazing Bofurin is, and how they saved the town from different gangs and teams. Sure, you know he's strong, and you know he often gets into fights (that much is evident from the scratches and bruises he always has on him), but it's hard to connect your sweet, quiet boyfriend to the big, bad member of Bofurin who kicks ass and takes names like it's his job

—He's also very quiet, even around you. It's not intentional. Kaji is just a generally quiet person, and prefers to listen to you ramble about whatever more than talking about his own day (especially since his days usually consist of fighting). His fondness for you is quiet, too, but obvious to anyone who knows him. Sometimes, it's so subtle you don't even really notice. For example, he always walks road-side when you two take a walk through town; he somehow remembers EVERYTHING about you if you mention it even once (birthday, favorite color, favorite flower and food, etc...); when you two go on walks, he trails very slightly behind you, as if to watch your back; most of all, he takes his headphones off around you

—The school day was hard. You woke up late, you had forgotten to complete an assignment, and there was a pop quiz in your worst class. Not to mention, all of your friends were missing that day, out sick or at appointments, so you were left alone. Then, to make matters worse, you spilt your drink all over yourself at lunch. Several people laughed at you, and you had to walk around in your white, uniform button up that was stained and see through at the bottom.

Honestly, it was just an awful day.

You were getting ready to head home and crash, forgoing all of your homework, when your phone dinged right as you were about to catch the bus. With a sigh, you looked down at it, expecting it to be one of your parents ripping into you about a forgotten chore or something (with the day you'd been having, it wouldn't be a surprise).

Meet me at the bridge

From: Blondie

You couldn't help but give a weak smile. Your bed sounded nice, but honestly, venting to Ren sounded a lot nicer. You were practically on the verge of tears in the middle of the day, in disbelief about how awful your day had been. You could really use his presence, so you went.

The bridge was empty, thankfully, and Ren sitting on the railing and looking up at the clear, blue sky was a lonely sight until you joined him.

Without a word, you climbed up on the railing, sitting next to him. Your eyes fell to the river running below, enjoying the gentle sound of it flowing along. From here, you couldn't even really hear any other people on the streets. It was nice and calm, a welcome change from the rest of the day.

When he noticed you there, he looked over and started to smile. When he saw your sorry state, shirt all stained, a miserable expression on your face, red lined eyes, the smile fell immediately. He carefully placed his headphones to rest around his neck.

"Hey. You look awful. What's wrong?" He was blunt, but you'd learned he wasn't trying to be rude. He was simply straightforward. Unlike his rather plain voice, though, his dark blue eyes stormed with concern.

Honestly, you probably just wanted to cry, but didn't want to embarrass yourself. Instead, you let your head fall, fidgeting with your hands in your lap to distract yourself as your legs hung limply over the railing.

"It was just a really bad day," you explained with a pitiful voice, cracking halfway through.

Ren stared at you for a second, and if you looked you'd probably see the cogs turning behind his eyes. He was kind of short circuiting. He wasn't great at these kinds of situations, but he cared for you so much that seeing you all sad and upset made him incredibly uncomfortable.

All he really knew to do was gently disconnect your hands from each other, taking one and lacing his long, slender fingers through it. He blinked at you when you looked up at him. Though his expression was still plain and rather stoic (he really just didn't know what to do), his voice was soft as he said, "Tell me about it."

You widened your eyes a bit. You two hadn't been together for very long, and honestly in the beginning, sometimes you wondered if he even really liked you. But, as your eyes fell to your connected hands, and then back up to his, you knew he did. He cared enough to give you his full, undivided attention, even picking up his phone to pause his music so it wouldn't be audible through the headphones.

For Ren, it was a pretty big deal.

You broke right then and there, venting to him about everything. You were just so overwhelmed that letting it out helped immensely. And unlike others, he didn't try to give advice, or anything like that. He just listened.

Then, at the end, he squeezed your hand gently. "I'm sorry your day's been so shit... But... It's okay now. It's over."

Afterwards, he probably bought you whatever you wanted for dinner, and then offered to help you with your homework so you could go right to pretending you didn't exist in your bed when you got home.

—He really is very new to this whole 'relationship' thing, but he does his very best. He's honestly just not the greatest at saying or doing the right thing, but, my god, does this poor boy try to

—There are other ways he protects you, too, than just being there for you and listening. There's also the more physical ways, obviously. He's very observational, despite popular belief, and is usually acutely aware of what's going on around him (and especially around you). His quick reflexes have saved you from a world of pain multiple times, particularly if you're clumsy

—One time, you asked him to go out shopping with you. You knew he wasn't huge on clothes, or anything, but you wanted the company and to spend some of his rare off time with him. Of course, he agreed.

"This is so cute. Don't you think?" you asked with a bright smile, holding out the top you'd found at a thrift store towards him.

He was behind you, leaning on the cement wall with one hand in his pockets and hangers with the other clothes you liked in the other. Ren only nodded, but that didn't deter you at this point.

You grinned, deciding to buy the top. Starting to walk towards him so he could hold this one, too, you failed to notice your shoe catching on the bottom of the metal rack. With a little yelp and widened eyes, you started to fall forward.

You heard the clattering of multiple hangers hitting the solid floor, but you were more worried about the fact that your head was about to hit the cement wall full on. Squeezing your eyes shut, you waited for impact, but it didn't come.

Instead, you felt your head hit something warm and marginally softer than cement. Opening your eyes, you let out a sigh of relief.

Ren had grabbed the back of your shirt, and then leaned over you to shield your head with his hand probably before it even registered to you that you were falling. He easily pulled you back up, careful not to step back until you caught your balance.

"Klutz," he muttered after giving you a once over, which immediately had you pouting, of course, and flushing pink. Ren smirked at the expression, much to your chagrin.

"Ren," you whined.

His smirk would rise into a true smile, then. His smiles were contagious and beautiful, reminding you of daybreak, when the scary night was finally gone and the sky was a gorgeous painting of pink, orange, and red.

You couldn't help but smile back.

"It's okay. I'll always save you from busting your ass," he said, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead that had you melting, regardless of the rough wording.

Sometimes, only sometimes, the boy had rizz.

—These are ways that Kaji protects you that you don't even really think about much, because they're so common. Emotionally, he tries his very hardest to always be there for you, to always be someone you can tell anything to. He doesn't judge you. He keeps you from hurting yourself accidentally, and is always there to catch you when you fall

—Maybe the only time you ever see him actually pissed (not bad argument pissed, but ready to throw hands pissed) is when you're being physically threatened somehow

—I can't stress this enough: he does not, under any circumstances, want you to see him fighting. He's still scared deep down that he'll black out and IT will happen. He'll lose sight and take out everyone around him. It scares him even when he's fighting with other members of Bofurin, so it definitely scares him around you. He does everything he can not to lose his temper around you: music, suckers, hell, even breathing techniques

—However, and this is a massive however, any mf who messes with you must be crazy as hell, especially if they know you're Kaji's girl, because my god he'll hit 'em with a scream AND his fists. That song RAHH—yeah, that's Kaji. He will not play

—You two were meeting up for a date at this cute, little diner in the city. As always, you were a little bit early, so you leaned back on the brick of the diner wall and looked up at the sunset.

Kaji had probably gotten caught up with something, but he'd make it in relatively good time. He always did. And if something really got in the way, he'd text you about it, probably with only one apology, but the next time you saw him he'd have wildflowers, or some other gift to give you to make it up.

You had dressed up pretty cute for this particular date, though. A nice, little diner with the gorgeous sunset as your backdrop? Yeah, you wanted to take photos and dress up a little for Ren. No matter how long you'd been dating him, the way he looked you up and down, a little blush just barely visible across his cheeks, always made your heart swell,

No matter how long you'd been dating, he still had a crush on you.

You were busy thinking about what you'd order, or what you'd talk to Ren about first, to notice the trio of men who were walking by.

They were older than you, at least a decade so, and they immediately stopped when one pointed you out.

"You look mighty nice," said the tallest one, and he was big like a bear. Rough-looking like one, too, with a roguish smirk and lustful eyes, he looked you up and down, but not in the way Ren did. When this man did it, you just felt gross, like you needed to cover up.

"T-Thank you," you muttered, crossing your arms over your chest and looking at the ground. You hoped they'd just keep walking, but they didn't. In fact, your worst fear was confirmed when they instead gathered around you, cornering you.

"You look pretty lonely out here all alone, too. Did you get stood up?" asked a much shorter man, staring unabashedly at your chest. "We can help you out, ya know."

"I'm good... Thank you," you said, trying to back up, but you were already leaning on a wall. "I don't want any trouble."

"No, no trouble at all. Just a good time," said bear man, taking a step closer, getting way too far into your personal space.

Your heart rate shot through the roof, but you were also frozen by fear. Against one man, maybe you had a chance. Against three with no weapons? You felt helpless, and you hated it.

"You gotta number?"

"I... um," you stumbled, feeling so stupid. "I have a boyfriend... Sorry." With that, you got off the wall and tried to squeeze past them, but bear man quickly snatched you back in place by your wrist, grip so hard it would definitely bruise.

Tears brimmed at your eyes. "That hurts," you cried, really beginning to fear for your safety now. You tried to rip your arm away, but it was no use. "Let go of me!" you finally yelled.

The one who hadn't spoken yet spat out, "Nice guys like us are constantly getting fucked over by girls like you. Where's your so-called boyfriend, huh?"

Bear man laughed, but quickly narrowed his eyes with rage the more you tried to tug yourself free. Finally, he had enough when you scratched at the top of his hand, and then he backhanded you pretty brutally.

A cry of pain escaped your lips, the left side of your face stinging terribly, particularly where his ring had left a nasty cut on your cheek. Finally, tears fell from your eyes. "He's real, and he's on his way. He's a member of Bofurin," you said weakly, hoping it would deter them.

Everyone knew what Bofurin was, after all.

To your horror and growing panic, they only laughed at you, though, even as you held your cut face and looked away. "Sure, sure," chuckled the short man, sounding very confident. "Where is he, then?"

"He's right here."

Immediately, you were crushed by an overwhelming wave of relief. Just his voice, as pissed off as he sounded, was enough to assure you that everything would be all right.

Ren would handle it.

The three men turned, immediately stepping away from you.

"Hey, man, we were just checking on your girl, ya know? We saw her fall and hit her head on the wall. Looked pretty nasty," said bear man, sharing tense looks with his buddies.

You couldn't bring yourself to say anything, too overwhelmed and shaken by what happened, so you just dropped your hand from your face and looked at Ren, who stared at you.

There was an inferno in his eyes. You could tell immediately. Otherwise, he looked perfectly calm, but this was the most angry you'd ever seen him, especially when he caught sight of the blood slowly dripping from the cut on your cheek.

It was weird, too, because usually Ren got hot angry. He yelled and cursed. This was calm, though. Too calm. This time, he was cold angry.

"Right," he said quietly, which immediately had the trio's tense shoulders falling with relief. Without ever taking his eyes from your's, Ren walked towards you.

You'd never been so happy to have a boyfriend who could intimidate people just by looking at them.

He wordlessly took off his headphones, gently setting them on your head, music blasting so loud it almost surprised you. You couldn't hear anything. Ren took the sucker out of his mouth and threw it to the side, which was very unlike him.

He always even kept the sticks and wrappers to throw away later.

Finally, with that storm still raging in his eyes, he sweetly kissed your nose, whispered, "Leave it to me," and turned you around so you were facing the wall.

You didn't move an inch, still too frazzled about what had happened, in your head about what could have happened. You weren’t sure you'd ever been so scared.

For about a minute, you just stared at the brick, tears falling from your eyes and stinging the open cut on your cheek. You flinched when the headphones were taken off your head, and then a gentle hand rested on your arm to turn you around.

Ren rested the headphones around his neck, and then silently wrapped his arms around you in a warm, comforting hug. He rested his chin on top of your head, squeezing you.

You relished in the comfort, squeezing you eyes closed against his chest, sure that if you looked around, you'd see three unconscious bodies lying beaten and bloodied on the ground.

His hand found your hair, fingers lightly scratching your scalp. "I'm sorry I'm late."

Still in shock from the events and taken aback by his soft tone, you couldn't help but smile weakly. "It's okay," you breathed, still not pulling away from him. You weren't sure you ever would.

"Let's go get you cleaned up," he said, leading you with a hand pressed against the arch of your back. While you stepped over bear man's unconscious form, Ren intentionally stomped right on his face, no doubt breaking his jaw by the sickening crack you heard, with a stoic expression as if he hadn't just done that.

Needless to say, he bought you a pocket knife and told you to let the air out of any bitch who cornered you again.

—Y'all, when I say this mf don't play, he DON'T PLAY. It's canon. Istg

[jnginlov]

ateez as romantic tropes

⇀ genre fluff, angst, comedy

⇀ style blurbs

⇀ wc listed per member (between 1.1k and 2.2k)

⇀ warnings all readers are gender neutral, listed per member

⇀ reactions from the gc “Yep mhm would def swoon over him yes mhm yep” “BRUH I give you all of your content for free” “I need Yunho to help me obliterate my kitchen cabinets” “Losing my mf mind over him”

note word count variation does not reflect any preference for specific members, some stories just felt like they needed more backstory or had more action

home for the holidays

⇀ pairing hs crush!seonghwa x hs crush!reader

⇀ wc 1.5k

⇀ warnings mentions of food

“seonghwa! come in!” his mother greeted him at the door of his childhood home, ushering him inside quickly before enveloping him in a warm hug.

she bombarded him with questions about his life in seoul, what he’d been eating, how he’d been sleeping, as he removed his shoes. he tried to keep up with all of her fussing as he dragged his suitcase down the hall and into his bedroom but he could barely get out more than a few words before she was moving onto her next thought.

“anyway, your father went out to pick up some tofu so i could make you sundubu-jjigae,” she explains before she’s cut off by the sound of the doorbell and the kitchen timer going off simultaneously.

“i‘ll get the door,” seonghwa volunteers before his mother can say anything else, and pads back to where he had been only moments prior.

he’s not exactly sure what he expected on the other side of the door, especially so late in the evening, but he thinks he might be able to feel every nerve ending on his body alight when he opens the door to find you.

you look both severely different and exactly the same as when he’d last seen you, minus the lack of your high school’s blue uniform. of course you’ve changed your hair, your style seems to have improved as well, but mostly you just look more mature, more you, if that’s possible.

“oh, seonghwa,” you chirp, your surprise evident on your face, “i didn’t know you were back.”

“i didn’t know you were still in town,” he counters, his expression mirroring your own.

you don’t say anything, simply trying to process that the boy you’d had a crush on in high school had become, well, a man. he was considerably more attractive than he had been years ago, if that was even possible, and he almost seemed to hold himself with more confidence even if he was just standing in the middle of the entryway of his childhood home. you try to urge your mind to stay in the present but it can’t help but dig up your old memories of high school seonghwa and all the reasons you should have told him you liked him back then.

when you don’t say anything, seonghwa speaks up, asking, “is there something i can do for you?”

you suddenly are remembering your mission and the tote bag that’s weighing down your shoulder, housing the reason you’ve been coming to his parents house for the past few months.

“right!” you say, taking one of the containers out of your bag and presenting it to seonghwa. “this is for your mom.”

just as you mention her, seonghwa can hear his mom shuffling down the hall behind him, her slippers slapping against the wood floor to announce her coming.

“y/n is that you?” she says once she’s right behind her son. “well don’t make them stand outside,” she scolds seonghwa, gesturing for him to move so that you can step past the threshold.

“hi mrs park,” you greet his mother with a bow, still holding the container in your hands as you trade your outside shoes for the guest slippers.

“you shouldn’t be walking this late by yourself dear,” she scolds gently before heading back to the kitchen, you pittering after her lightly.

for a moment seonghwa stands in shock, doorknob still clutched in his hand and gears turning in his head. since when had you become friends with his mom? and since when did you start knowing which ones were the guest slippers? and since when had he started to miss you?

“and i wanted to get it to you while it was fresh.”

seonghwa joins you both in the kitchen and catches the tail end of your statement, presumably an explanation as to why you’re walking to his house so late.

“it would have been perfectly fine tomorrow,” his mother only replies, removing the lid from the container you’d given her and revealing a loaf of, what looked to be, homemade bread.

“it’s a cinnamon milk bread,” you say and seonghwa turns to see you looking at him. he doesn’t say anything in response and you simply smile, turning back to his mother after just a moment. his mind is still reeling as he watches you, stood casually in the kitchen as though you belong here. you hold none of the awkwardness that normally is present when someone visits another’s home for the first time and some little voice in the back of his mind tells him that it feels domestic. of course, he tries to push that thought away.

“here,” his mother says after she’s transferred the bread into her own container and returned yours, “you should stay for dinner. i’m making sundubu-jjigae.”

you shake your head, a slight look of hesitation on your face and seonghwa assumes that you’ve probably stayed for dinner plenty when he was gone. “that sounds delicious but i should be getting back. i have another loaf cooling on my counter that i need to pack up,” you explain.

“well at least have seonghwa walk you back,” she suggests, and you’re obviously about to decline, based on your body language, when seonghwa insists.

you agree then, not putting up much of a fight once you know his mother isn’t forcing him for her own satisfaction, making your way back out and beginning a steady trek back to your own house.

“how’s seoul?” you ask after a beat, not wanting to walk in awkward silence the entire way.

“it��s nice,” he says simply before adding, “busy.”

you nod in understanding. “i’m sure.”

“how are you?” he asks.

as you turn to look at him again, your eyes crinkling slightly as you grin, he feels like he’s never left his hometown. he’s still sat in his desk at school watching you laugh with your friends across the room during lunch. you would always notice him staring, turning and presenting him the same warm smile you give him now.

he realizes in this moment that he wishes he’d told you, all those years ago, about what his friends always teased him for, about how much he liked you, because now it’s manifested into a gentle ache that seems to pull him back, to that time and to you. he guesses there’s a reason that people say distance makes the heart grow fonder.

you notice the expression on his face, the same one he wore in high school when he was deep in thought. not one that would appear during a test or when studying but one that would show when he was debating with his friends or talking about his future.

“what are you thinking about?” you ask to break the silence, genuine curiosity sparkling behind your eyes.

“hmmm nothing i guess,” he tries to play it off but you give him a suspicious look. “school,” he tries again, being broad about his approach.

“i guess that is the last time we saw each other,” you say and he wonders if you remember it all as clearly as him.

you toss around the idea of admitting what you never had to anyone before and maybe it’s something in the comfort of the night air or just the way seonghwa’s eyes are so focused on you but you decide that if you never say anything now you’ll surely regret it.

“you know,” you continue after another moment of silence, “i had a crush on you in high school.”

seonghwa feels his heart stop for a moment, his entire body consumed by a warmth that’s surely tinged his skin red as he tries to remember how to breath and walk at the same time.

“really?” he huffs, hoping you don’t notice how wobbly his steps have gotten.

“yeah, i don’t know, you were just really sweet and cute,” you elaborate and seonghwa can’t tell if he wants you to stop talking or continue, your voice starting to overlap with his heartbeat in his ears.

he’s so distracted trying to control himself, he almost doesn’t notice when you’ve stopped in front of your house. he certainly doesn’t notice the sly smile that’s stretched across your face, indicating that you’ve clearly observed his reaction to your news.

“how long are you going to be in town?” you ask, fiddling with the strap of your tote bag and urging your heart to stop beating up against your rib cage.

“just two weeks,” he manages to say in between deep breaths to calm his own pulse, eyes wide and lips parted slightly.

“well, let me know if you’re free at any point,” you say, preparing to take the final leap. “we can get coffee or something.”

he nods as you turn to walk toward your door and seonghwa, for the first time, feels his mouth moving before he can stop it.

“what about dinner? tomorrow?”

you turn back, smile beautifully complimenting the blush on your cheeks, and nod.

“see you then.”

foreigner

⇀ pairing white knight!hongjoong x traveler!reader

⇀ wc 1.1k

⇀ warnings implied panic attack/crying in public, street harassment, creepy middle aged guy

note i always find random hangul in fics annoying but for this you don’t need to understand what he’s saying because the whole point is you don’t

of course you would manage to get lost in the biggest city in korea on your first day of your month long trip. you’d planned for almost everything, except, of course, navigating through the intricate seoul subway system. to be fair, your friend joomi had promised to pick you up from the airport before she’d been called in on a work emergency. you had assured her that you could find your way to her apartment on your own but now, as you stood on the wrong side of the platform, watching yet another train, that would have taken you toward your destination, leave, you’re not so sure anymore.

you huff in frustration, the wheels on your suitcase clicking against the tiles as you try to find an empty bench, hoping that you can maybe collect your thoughts before you start to feel the familiar sting of tears behind your eyes. you try not to think of how you might look right now, stale from your flight, sweaty from running between trains, and slightly pathetic from being overwhelmed by something everyone else seems to have mastered.

you quickly abandon your bench search as your phone tells you how long you would have to wait for the next train and you weigh the worth of spending an hour and a half sitting in the stuffy station or dragging your suitcase around the street above, settling on trying to maybe just find a convenience store or some place to grab a coffee.

luckily the area you’re stranded doesn’t seem too crowded, the streets easy to navigate without having to serpentine between people with your month worth of luggage. you find a semi empty convenience store pretty easy enough, paying for a couple snacks, an ice cup, and a drink with ease, conscious of the way the other people in the shop are doing double takes at you, likely due to your suitcase and the duffle on your shoulder.

you’ve never been more grateful to korean convenience stores and their included seating as right now, able to finally take a breath as you sit with your food.

as you try to mind your business, texting joomi to update her about where you are and the predicament you’re in, you can almost feel a burning gaze coming from one of the tables diagonal your own. you try to ignore it, as you did with the gazes earlier, but it feels different, somehow predatory.

“이봐, 너는 어디서 왔니?”

you look up to see a man, probably in his late 50s, starring intensely at you, confirming your suspicions about his watching you.

when you don’t respond, he says something else in korean, something you can’t understand with your limited knowledge of the language, and you try not to panic, but as he stands, seemingly trying to make his way over to you, you feel your heartbeat skyrocketing.

“i don’t-“ you start, gripping your phone tightly as you flounder for what to do.

the man takes another step toward you, saying something else that you can only assume isn’t nice from the way he seems to snarl it and reaching out to grab the handle of your suitcase that you’d placed behind the chair across from you but before he can take hold of your bag it’s being pulled away by a different man, someone who looks to be around your own age.

he addresses the older man with a forced smile, obviously angered at the situation and you try to interpret what is happening before you. you can’t understand a word either man is saying, trying too hard to just process the situation you’re in, but eventually the older man leaves, your savior watching intently to make sure he’s really gone before turning to you.

“you, uh, speak english?” he asks, finally rolling your suitcase back to where you’d originally placed it, although you assume it’s more of a courtesy question as he’d probably heard your unsettled words when trying to address the other man.

you nod, a gentle “yes” escaping you as you try to parse what this new man wants from you.

“are you okay?” he asks gently.

you try to search his eyes for any sense of danger but all you can see is worry.

“i’m fine,” you say with a little more certainty than before.

“good,” he says with a slight sigh, his shoulders visibly relaxing. he looks between you and your suitcase once before speaking up again. “what are you doing here?”

you take a moment to decide whether to tell him or not but you assume if he had wanted to harm you that he wouldn’t have stepped in to help you before, and so you tell him, “i’m waiting for a train, it doesn’t come for another hour.”

he nods in understanding.

“what’s your name?” you feel yourself ask before you register what you’re actually doing.

“ah, my name is hongjoong,” he replies.

all of his words are slow, deliberate, as he speaks to you, a contrast to how quickly he was talking in korean only moments ago.

you try to slow down your own words as you ask, “how do you know english?”

he seems to almost perk up at that, interested to tell you, “oh, i’m learning right now. sorry if my grammar is bad.”

you shake your head quickly, “no, no. you’re fine. i’m just glad i have someone to talk to.”

he hums in understanding before asking, “what is your name?”

you introduce yourself, even spelling out your name for him, before you notice the plastic bag in his hands.

“oh, would you like to,” you trail off, gesturing to the seat across from you in invitation.

he seems hesitant and you almost want to take back your offer before he says, “you are sure?”

you nod with a gentle smile and he mirrors your expression, helping you move your duffle onto the ground beneath your table and taking a seat across from you.

you talk casually with hongjoong for the rest of your wait, letting him give you a list of things you should try to do with your time in seoul.

“isn’t the han river more of a date spot?” you question as he collects both of your trash into his plastic bag.

“you could take your partner,” he says, glancing at you and you know he’s trying to gauge your reaction as his ears tint pink.

“oh!” you quip, your own face blooming with warmth. “uhm no, i don’t have a boyfriend or anything,” you rush to say, flicking your gaze between the table and the floor.

“then, what if we went?” hongjoong practically whispers and your eyes shoot up to his face, his now as red as yours.

boy next door

⇀ paring mechanic!yunho x house flipper!reader

⇀ wc 1.5k

⇀ warnings mentions of food, eating, suggestive, allusions to sex, recent breakup, mentions of a cheating ex, imagining hitting said cheating ex

maybe you should have listened to your friends that told you flipping a house all by yourself was a bit ambitious, but they should have known telling you that would only make you want to do it more. your family might have called you stubborn but you liked to frame it as strong-willed. so here you sat, covered in streaks of paint as you ate your lunch on the floor of a kitchen that was still wholly unusable while the fresh varnish on the living room walls started to dry.

you had yet to buy any furniture, an air mattress your only comfort at night, after selling everything from your apartment in the city. all of it was stained by memories of your ex, moments you’d shared together before he’d told you he’d been seeing someone else behind your back for months.

it’s fine, you could use a change of scenery anyway.

the suburbs were treating you well so far, the neighbor on your right a little old lady, ms. lee, that housed and cared for the feral cats in the area who had given you the most delicious treats she made herself as a house warming gift. you’d expected your other neighbor to be similar, or maybe a little family like most suburbs attracted, but what you had experienced yesterday was far from family friendly.

you’d come back from the hardware store around noon, buckets of paint weighing you down as you made your way up the driveway. you had spotted your neighbor’s garage door open and a shiny, certainly vintage, black car peaking out from inside. however, what you hadn’t noticed when sat in your own car, but were certainly aware of now that you could see inside perfectly, was a man, clad in a black tank top and track pants, leaning into the open hood of the black car.

you weren’t the type that normally stared at people, preferring to mind your business in most public spaces, but how could you not when a man built like a greek god, skin glowing from his efforts, was grunting in frustration as his arms flexed to adjust something in the depths of the vehicle, muscles defined so clearly as he fixed whatever was wrong. you tried not to think about how long it had been since you’d last gotten intimate with anyone, your ex seemingly uninterested every time you had tried to initiate anything for such a long time that you were surely only projecting your frustrations onto the poor man in front of you.

“hey! you must be the new neighbor.”

oh no, how long had you been staring.

“oh! yeah, i just moved in.”

although he had to have noticed you checking him out, he didn’t say anything about your ogling, a warm smile adorning his handsome face instead of the disgusted snarl you were prepared for.

“you’re fixing her up all by yourself?” he asks with a tick of his chin toward your house and you’re guessing he’d talked to ms. lee after she visited you.

“that’s the plan,” you nod with a chuckle, still feeling awkward from having been caught gawking at your new hot neighbor.

“my name’s yunho,” he introduces, cleaning a spot of grease off his hands with a rag before tossing it over his shoulder gently. “i’m not particularly known for my design skills but, if you ever need someone to hammer a nail or lift something heavy, feel free to ring my bell.”

you tried not to think of the double meaning of that last phrase, begging your mind to climb out of the gutter, and assured him you would before trying not to trip over your own feet on the way up to your front door.

and so your lunch break was spent thinking about the hot guy next door and how you could manage to avoid him for the rest of your life in order to steer clear of embarrassing yourself any further. of course, you could never expect for your life to go as planned.

the next week you’ve moved your focus into the kitchen, starting with the god awful cabinets that were certainly installed without a thought to the house’s time period or even functionality. although it was physically strenuous, taking a hammer to the cheap wood of those horrible cabinets was certainly helping you release some of the anger that had been simmering since the breakup. Maybe you should have printed out a picture of your ex’s face and taped it inside.

you were so focused, and making a pretty loud ruckus, that you almost didn’t hear the sound of your doorbell ringing. trying to think of who could possibly be interested in visiting you at 3 pm on a tuesday, you made your way to your front door, leaving your hammer in the kitchen but keeping your gloves on. you would have looked through the peephole of your door to determine if it was worth opening but of course the last owner of the property felt that a peephole wasn’t necessary. although, as you open the door to your neighbor, the hottie not the lady, you’re not sure a peephole would have changed your mind.

he’s in a simple outfit today, just a white t-shirt and dark jeans, but you still have to resist giving him a full glance up and down. his hair is slightly damp and based on the way you can clearly smell his smoky vanilla shampoo you can guess he’s just had a shower.

“hi,” you greet, trying not to think of the way you’re certainly looking and smelling like you’ve been dunked in a pool of your own sweat, your house currently without air conditioning and it being late spring.

“hey,” he says, the same warm smile making a reappearance as he stands on your porch.

he doesn’t say anything else and you almost wonder if maybe the heat is starting to get to you. could this be a dehydration induced hallucination?

“can i help you?” you ask after feeling like you’ve been making enough awkward eye contact, although yunho’s smile hasn’t budged.

“right!” he chirps, as though remembering what he’s doing. “i just wanted to make sure you weren’t dead or anything. i heard a lot of things breaking and some yelling, so just wanted to make sure you’re alive.” he nods, his hair bouncing slightly and for a moment he really looks like a big puppy, eyes expectant and big as he waits for you to say something.

“oh, sorry,” you apologize, not even aware that you had been yelling but to be fair, you had been really sucked into the vision of getting to hit your ex with a hammer and make him as broken as you’d felt. “i was just taking out some anger on the old kitchen cabinets.”

he cocks his head to the side and again you find your mind drawing up another comparison to a puppy. you wonder if anyone’s ever told him that before.

“you’re taking out the cabinets?” he asks, almost seeming worried and you raise a brow.

“yeah,” you say, trying not to sound defensive and hoping he doesn’t have some sort of secret attachment to the fixtures. “they don’t fit the house and they barely functioned before.”

he shakes his head at your clarification and now it’s your own turn to tilt your head in confusion.

“you’re doing that by yourself? i thought i said you could ask for my help with heavy lifting,” he explains his worry and you don’t get a chance to respond before he’s starting to walk back to his house. “i’m gonna grab some gloves and another hammer,” he calls from your yard as you watch him go. “i’ll be right back.”

so you spent the afternoon destroying your kitchen with the neighbor you had vowed to stay away from only a few days before. to your credit, you did try to refuse his help, insisting that you could do it and telling him about the lack of a/c, but of course he stood firm, pointing out that he’d already made the effort to grab his own gloves and tools. maybe you’d met your match in terms of stubbornness.

“thank you,” you’d said with sincerity as you both sat on the floor of your now bare kitchen, open pizza box between you that you were regretting letting him pay for but, again, he had insisted. “there’s gotta be some way i can pay you back,” you said as you took another bite of your slice, eyes looking at the man across from you expectantly.

“well, i can think of one way,” he says, placing his half eaten slice on his plate and brushing off his hands.

you perk up at this, eager to know what you can do to make sure he knows how appreciative you are.

“let me take you out to dinner,” he suggests and you’re glad that you’re already sitting or your knees might have buckled and forced you to sit anyway.

opposites attract

⇀ paring hydrophobic!yeosang x lifeguard!reader

⇀ wc 2.2k

⇀ warnings slightly suggestive, he’s not literally hydrophobic he’s just a hater, mention of drowning, drinking alcohol (not you)

yeosang has spent every summer since he could remember avoiding the one place his friends had managed to finally persuade him into visiting, the local water park.

now it’s not that he was deathly afraid of being in the water, in fact his parents told him that he used to love swimming as a toddler, but he just didn’t see the appeal of anything that swimming and pools had to offer. the hot ass sun forcing you to reapply sunscreen every few hours, the screaming children that would make your head pound, the gross water that had surely seen every bodily fluid, and, worst of all, the annoying ass lifeguards that yeosang just knew were judging everyone with their hypercritical stares.

“you need some vitamin d,” wooyoung says, rubbing in the sunscreen he’d just put onto his arms until the cream had become sheer. “you can’t just sit in front of your computer every day.”

yeosang scowls as his best friend passes him the sunscreen, hesitantly squeezing some of it onto his legs.

“especially if you’re trying to get back into dating,” san adds as he removes his shirt, tossing it onto the picnic table the group had claimed.

“who’s dating?” yunho asked as he joined the group, setting his bag down and pushing his sunglasses up to sit on top of his head, ready to apply sunscreen onto his face when yeosang passed the bottle to him.

“yeosang,” wooyoung says as he shoves his flip flops off, leaving them where they lay and stretching his arms above his head.

“you’re dating someone?” yunho questions, eyebrows scrunched in confusion.

“not yet,” san answers for him just as yeosang opens his mouth and he gives san an annoyed look.

“hey boys!”

suddenly, all three of yeosang’s friends are lighting up as they turn toward the source of the voice unfamiliar to him. each of them perks up as they return the greeting of the stranger, a lifeguard that was headed in the direction of yeosang and his friends.

“y/n!” san calls your name excitedly as you approach, stopping just outside of the shadow from the umbrella attached to the table.

“i didn’t know you were working today,” yunho says, finishing up his sunscreen application as he smiles brightly at you.

yeosang tries not to let his nerves show on his face as his eyes flick between you and his friends, always a little on edge when meeting new people but especially when that new person is particularly attractive. you’re wearing what he assumes is the typical uniform, a pair of short red swim trunks that show off your legs and a tight white tank top that leaves little to the imagination. he tries to resist the urge to let his eyes roam over the skin that’s exposed by your uniform, glowing from the summer sun, and instead he focuses on your face, shaded by the red visor you wear but expression as bright as though you’re channeling the beams from the sky above you. yeosang is tempted to bask in their warmth as your gaze flicks over to him but instead he looks away, trying to look busy as he rummages through his bag for nothing.

“sua called off today,” you explain, “so here i am.” you shrug as you gesture around yourself.

“oh, this is yeosang,” san speaks up with a harsh slap to his friends shoulder and yeosang flinches away from the touch before shoving san’s hand off.

“yeosang, this is y/n,” wooyoung provides, sliding toward you, “our favorite lifeguard.”

at his statement you reach up to pinch at wooyoung’s cheek, giving it a little shake as you let out a coo, “aw. i would say you’re my favorite patrons but i’m not in the habit of lying.” you chuckle lightly as wooyoung swats your hand away from his face with a pout.

“nice to meet you yeosang,” you greet him easily, nodding slightly and he’s thankful you didn’t reach out to shake his hand.

“you too,” he lies, not at all happy to meet someone who chooses to torture themselves out in the heat as a job.

“okay, well i’ve got to continue making my rounds, just wanted to say hi,” you explain as you back away from the group, headed back on the main path next to the pool you’re all closest to. “if you guys are staying for night swim i’m gonna be stationed at the wave pool so feel free to come chat.”

night swim, the only reason yeosang agreed to come. the local park had an adult only, alcohol provided, swim night that they hosted every other week. they would close down the more dangerous parts of the park, like the deep ends of the pools and the giant water slides, and just let people chill out in things like the wave pool and even go on the kiddie slides.

yeosang had agreed for the alcohol and the offer to be able to sit at the edge of the pool while his friends enjoyed trying not to drown as they wrested in the water. unfortunately he was not aware he would be dragged to the park while the sun was still out or when his friends were going to be chatting up the cute lifeguard the whole time, and he is an adult so he can admit you’re cute.

“you good?” yunho asks, noticing yeosang staring after you. the latter hadn’t even noticed he’d been looking straight at your butt as you retreated until his friend snapped him from his thoughts and he hoped he could blame the redness on his cheeks being the summer heat.

“yeah, yeah,” yeosang nodded finally pulling his arm out of his bag as he tried to anticipate what the group was about to pressure him to do.

he really did try to fight to just stay under the umbrella until the sun set but of course wooyoung needed him to go down the slides with him before they closed for the night and yunho had to show him the lazy river before it would be crowded with other drunk people and san demanded to go off the diving boards together before the deep end was off limits. so, because yeosang is a good friend, and his friends were extremely annoying when they whined, he did all of it. he honestly wasn’t as upset about the situation as he thought he might be, even finding himself sometimes enjoying the whole affair, but he would never admit that, he had a reputation to uphold.

lucky for yeosang and his reputation, the afternoon went by quickly and families with their sticky children trickled out as the sun set behind the horizon, initiating the start of night swim. of course as soon as he and his friends had finished their first drink and started sipping on their second yunho was quick to remind them about you over at the wave pool.

“i think i’m just gonna go back to the lazy river,” yeosang said with a jerk of his thumb toward the stack of intertubes behind himself.

“what why?” san asks, slipping his towel back off his shoulders.

“the lazy river is packed,” yunho adds, eyebrows scrunched as he looks over at it before turning to look at the wave pool that’s comparably more deserted.

wooyoung on the other hand has been paying a little too much attention to his best friend, noticing how yeosang’s eyes would flit over to you whenever you passed them during the day, and his lips curl up into the smile he always wears when he’s messing with someone. “i’m sure y/n would love to get to know you,” wooyoung grins, eyebrows wiggling before he sends yeosang a dramatic wink.

san’s mouth quickly forms an o as he realizes what wooyoung is implying and yunho just rolls his eyes at their antics, however neither are helping as wooyoung wraps his fingers around yeosang’s wrist and starts tugging him in the direction of the wave pool.

he can do nothing as he approaches the pool, not really in the mood to make a scene even if he could feel his heart climbing into his throat with every step that led them closer to you.

once the group is in sight you wave, sat on the edge of the pool with a float tube on your lap and feet dangling in the water. both of the lifeguard chairs are occupied and yeosang assumes that, because of the alcohol involved and the shutting down of half the park, lifeguards are double booked at the open areas, another lifeguard sat opposite you on the other side of the wave pool.

you smile brightly as wooyoung drags yeosang toward the edge of the pool, san and yunho shuffling behind. the latter two boys easily step into the water, not too interested in being involved in whatever scheme wooyoung has cooked up. wooyoung however ignores the pool in favor of sidling up right next to you.

you have to crane your neck to look up at the boys and yeosang moves his head to look at the water, feeling like a little kid as wooyoung still hasn’t let go of his wrist and does the talking for him.

“hey,” wooyoung greets you easily. “yeosang’s not a fan of the wave pool. do you mind if he sits with you while we swim?”

it’s not an entire lie, this spot being yeosang’s least favorite in the whole park, but he’s not too interested in sitting next to you in silence while his friends laugh at him. he knows it will be silent because he’s certainly not confident enough to start conversation, plus you have a whole job to do, and he’s certain his friends will be laughing at him because they’ve already noticed his attraction to you.

“sure,” you agree, to a bit of shock from yeosang, and pat the concrete next to you, shifting the tube on your lap so that it’s not in the way.

“great!” wooyoung declares but yeosang certainly doesn’t agree as he gets shoved to the spot you patted and a harsh push on his shoulder encourages him to take a seat. “have fun,” wooyoung adds before he’s scurrying off to join yunho and san.

there’s barely enough time to process that his best friend has abandoned him before you’re speaking up.

“so, not a fan of the wave pool,” you prompt and yeosang spares a glance at you.

you’re still looking over the pool, scanning for any danger or situations to whistle at people about.

“uh yeah,” he answers plainly, placing the cup he’s surprised didn’t spill during wooyoung’s tugging on the ground between you two. “i mean, don’t really like water parks in general so,” he explains with a shrug, venturing to put one of his legs into the edge of the pool, the other still tucked underneath him.

“really?” you ask like you’re actually surprised, like you’ve never actually met someone that didn’t like a water park, but based on your profession he’s sure you probably don’t often run into people who don’t frequent any pool.

he doesn’t answer, just shrugging once more as he watches the way the water ripples whenever he shifts his foot under the water.

“any particular reason?” you ask and yeosang ventures another glance at you, this time making eye contact with him as you’ve turned your head to face him. “i mean you don’t seem to be scared of water or anything,” you say as you gesture toward his leg that hangs off the ledge.

instead of returning to hold your float tube you place the hand you’d used on the concrete, leaning toward yeosang just slightly and he can smell a hint of the sunscreen you’d been reapplying through the day as well as something that he assumes is a cologne or perfume you must of sprayed on during your break. it makes his brain feel a bit fuzzy as you tilt your head at him, waiting for an answer.

“uh, i don’t know.” he can practically hear wooyoung judging his bland response and tries to rack his brain for anything else to say. “just don’t find it interesting i guess.”

you hum in acknowledgment, nodding slowly as you observe yeosang and even though the hot sun went down over an hour ago he feels like he might melt.

“so there’s nothing specific about it you hate?” you pry, taking another quick glance over the pool to make sure no one drowned when you weren’t looking before you return your gaze to the man beside you.

yeosang reaches out for his drink and realizes a moment too late how close your hand is to the cup, his fingers brushing against your warm skin and causing a tingle to shoot up his arm. you don’t mention the contact but yeosang swears he sees the corner of your mouth tick up as he takes a swig of his beverage, placing the cup on the other side of himself once he’s swallowed.

“no secret hate for lifeguards or anything right?” you continue to interrogate him, a teasing tone seeping into your words.

he could mention how he thinks you’re all overbearing and judgemental but he’s not sure that would work in his favor right now considering you don’t seem to actually be all that bad.

“no,” he says with a shake of his head, eyes not leaving your own.

at that your smile seems to grow, eyes holding a sparkle of something yeosang can’t quite read.

“good,” you respond, “because that would make asking you out a lot harder.”

marriage pact

⇀ paring ex best friend!san x heartbroken!reader

⇀ wc 1.1k

⇀ warnings therapy mentions/appointment, previous heartbreak, reader feels a lot of guilt, reader cries, cursing

you wish, with everything in your power, that you could reverse time, or maybe just knock some sense into your 14 year old self, and maybe you technically could, if you only shoved everything back in the shoebox and put it back on the shelf. then it would sit where it had for years before, except instead of dust, it would collect guilt, your guilt, every time you passed and remembered what was in it. your high school diary, a few birthday cards, notes with ink so faded the words were indecipherable, a paper clipped stack of photo booth strips, and one intact copy of the marriage pact you’d made with your best friend choi san, well, your high school best friend. why did you have to find it now, just as you’re reaching the age which you’d either need to be already married or fulfill your half of the contract by saying “i do”?

you think for a moment that you could simply throw out the entire box, but you’re too sentimental for that, it’s why the box had been with you so long in the first place, but now the memories, that should have been happily contained, have come to seep back into your life and the heartbreak taints every single one.

you could throw away just the pact, but your trash stinks enough already and you can practically hear the voice of your therapist telling you how it’s just an opportunity, an excuse, to reach out and maybe mend something that’s been broken for so long.

damn her for being right all the time.

and so you call, hoping his number is still the same or you’ll have wasted all your worrying for nothing. there’s nothing to indicate it’s his voicemail box, the generic computer voice reading out it’s typical prompt, but you might as well. if it’s a wrong number they’ll simply never call you back and you’ll go on with your life, as best you can.

“hey, i’m not sure if this is the right number. i’m trying to reach choi san. i’m-“ you pause for a moment, trying to figure out how to describe yourself. “i’m an old friend,” you settle on. “so, yeah. if you can give me a call back, i just needed,” you pause again. did you need to? maybe you should’ve written a script just in case. “wanted,” you amend, “to talk.” you pause again, wondering how you should end before the line beeps, signaling it’s been ended for you.

at your appointment the next day, your therapist seems proud, even as you try to change the subject, work around your feelings. she manages, as she always does, to steer you back on track, approach your emotions head on, and as she makes you recount the memories, and sensations, attached to the items in the shoebox, you feel your phone vibrate in your pocket. your first instinct is to silence it and so you do, barely registering the action before you’re sucked back into your session. only after you’ve penciled in your next meeting do you register that you’d sent a call to voicemail.

“hi y/n,” he starts easily and his voice has the hair on the back of your neck rising.

“i’m sorry i missed your call yesterday,” and he sounds genuinely apologetic. “i actually wanted to talk to you too i was just really busy until right now. i’m free for the rest of the day, so if you get a chance call me back. lo-“ your breath hitches at his mistake, forcing you to realize how shallowly you’d been inhaling the entirety of the message. “bye,” he concludes, an emptiness in his tone, before the message ends.

as you sit in your car, still in the parking lot of your therapist’s office, you remember that you had intentionally left out your name when leaving your message and that even after all these years, all this time apart, he can still recognize you by your voice alone, no matter how garbled by phone speaker quality.

you toss around the idea of waiting until you get back to your place to call but you can feel the nerves starting to tangle your stomach and are certain that you’ll have talked yourself out of it by the time you would get there. instead, you call back.

he picks up on the second ring.

“hi.”

he sounds like he’s smiling and you hope that’s a good sign, not an indication that he’s about to laugh at you and tell you to fuck off.

“hi,” you breath in response, probably a little pathetic.

“you wanted to talk?” he supplies and if you could get out of your own head you might pin the statement as sounding a bit teasing, maybe even a hint flirty, but you can barely register anything when everything you’ve wanted to say for the past few years is suddenly all mingling at the front of your consciousness.

“uh yeah,” you confirm plainly, trying to will your mouth to create any other sound.

as if he can sense your distress, just as he always had, san speaks up for you and says the words that had settled on the back of your tongue, “do you remember that pact we made when we were 14?”

in the moment you feel like it’s the right thing to say but as soon as the words are out of your mouth you anticipate the moments you’ll lie awake at night berating yourself for them.

“i love you and i’m sorry i made you hate me.”

you feel like you’re waiting for the storm to finally hit as your words are met with pregnant silence, san’s breath on the other end of the line as clear as if he were sat in your passenger seat, and for a moment you allow yourself to imagine just that.

“i never hated you,” he says with clear exasperation, seemingly surprised. “have you thought i’ve hated you this whole time?”

you nod shakily before remembering that he can’t see you and muttering a broken, “yes.”

“i’m so sorry,” he acknowledges before shushing you gently, and only at the sound of his comfort do you realize that you had started sobbing.

you try to calm yourself, your heavy breaths pacifying into watery hiccups as san eases you back from your sudden emotional release.

“can i tell you something?” san says after a moment and you nod once again before chuckling at yourself and verbally confirming he can.

“i love you too,” he says with an ease that almost makes you jealous. “so can we talk more about that pact?”

love at first sight

⇀ paring clumsy!mingi x er nurse!reader

⇀ wc 1.9k

⇀ warnings lots of eye talk, hospital setting

it was well known in the er that the full moon night shift was bound to be chaotic, something about the energy of the phase making people feel like they’re invincible and leading them to accidents that seemed next to impossible to occur. even if you weren’t superstitious about any of that astrological stuff, you couldn’t ignore the evidence as this night, like every full moon before it, brought you a plethora of patients that each had a problem more severe or strange than the last. you were quickly running out of beds and soon you’d run out of space in the waiting room as you noticed another person entering through the sliding glass doors.

“this is the busiest i’ve ever seen it,” chae, the triage nurse stationed at the front desk says as you move past her to the file folder, ready to grab the next patient to take back. she was new to the emergency department, a sweetheart who’d done all her clinicals in your pediatrics department and therefore had never seen the full moon effect.

“your first full moon,” you note, digging through the file folder to pull out the next one and look at the name. “you’re doing great,” you note with a gentle pat on her shoulder.

she smiles at you appreciatively before turning to address the patient quickly approaching the desk.

you take a glance into the file in your hands. “painful eyes, difficulty seeing. possible hazardous material in eyes,” the intake form reads and you sigh. what does “possible” mean in this situation?

“song mingi,” you call out into the waiting area and a rather tall man, eyes shut tightly, pops up from his seat immediately, another shorter man following suit and reaching out a hand to stabilize the taller as he stumbles. they both make their way to you, the shorter guiding the taller so he doesn’t bump into anyone or anything on his way.

“mingi?” you ask gesturing toward the one who clearly is having eye problems while looking at the other, seemingly fine, man and he only nods.

“i’m his brother, hongjoong,” the shorter one says and they don’t seem to resemble each other very much but you think nothing of it, more interested in treating your patient, who appears to be in quiet a bit of pain, then anything else.

“you can both follow me,” you say, scanning your badge to open the door and moving just slower than you might normally to allow hongjoong to lead mingi.

once you arrive to one of the empty rooms hongjoong guides mingi to sit on the bed, muttering about how stupid he is, before taking a seat himself on one of the plastic chairs off to the side.

you pay no mind to the muffled communication of the men as you place mingi’s folder onto the counter next to the sink and move to start taking his vitals. they both go silent as you wrap the blood pressure cuff around his arm, clipping the pulse oximeter onto his finger as well.

all of his vitals come back normal, only slightly elevated, as expected, because of the stress and pain, and you note them onto his chart.

“so what did you do to your eyes,” you ask as you go to remove the blood pressure cuff.

“uh well,” mingi starts his voice strained with a mix of pain and embarrassment, “i was trying to scare my friend and he was, uh, holding air freshener.”

you resist the urge to roll your eyes as you assume what happened next in his story.

“okay,” you say with a nod, putting the cuff you’d removed back in the basket and taking down notes on his chart. “did you try rinsing your eyes?”

he swallows thickly, his adams apple bobbing, and you let out a silent sigh as you prepare for whatever else must have went wrong.

“we tried,” he says a little shakily, “but the bottle must have had leftover cleaner or something in it.”

of course it did. you hold yourself back from asking how or why and glance at hongjoong who looks as exasperated as you feel, eyes closed and fingers massaging his temples.

“so you don’t know what the cleaner was?” you ask and mingi shakes his head, wincing as he squeezes his eyes tighter.

“can i take a look at your eyes?” you ask as you set down his chart, grabbing the pen light out of your scrub pocket.

“uh sure,” he says but you can hear the hesitation once again.

“okay, i’m going to hold your eye open for a second,” you explain, adjusting the bed so that his eyes are level with your own. “i’m going to shine a light into them just so i can make sure there’s no debris and they’re dilating properly.”

he gulps again and you know that he’s preparing for it to be painful.

“okay,” he says, a little more determined, and you place your fingers on his eyelid, starting with his left eye.

you try to move as quickly as you can, not wanting it to be too painful, but his hurt grunts are still audible as you check both eyes. fortunately, they’re dilating fine and you can’t see any damage or debris.

“they look alright,” you note aloud, slipping the light back in your pocket and writing more on his chart. “let’s just get your eyes properly flushed and some antibiotic drops in there, then we can see how they’re doing.”

mingi’s shoulders relax a little at this and you start to make your way toward the door, heading out to grab the irrigation tubing and kidney dish as well as ask another nurse to prepare the drops you’ll need.

“will he need to stay overnight?” hongjoong asks as you open the door and you turn back to him.

“we’ll want to keep him for at least an hour after we administer the drops to make sure that nothing gets worse but if he’s cleared up by then you’ll be able to go,” you explain and hongjoong nods as you leave.

flushing his eyes takes a moment as he fights to close his eyes a lot during the process, which is understandable, but the eye drops are worse, managing to get his eyes closed right before the solution hits his eyeball no matter how well you manage to hold his eye lids. eventually, with the help of another nurse holding his lids while you administer the drops, you manage to give him the proper dosage and leave him to check on another patient. you promise to return in an hour and instruct both men on how to use the nurse call button in case anything happens before then.

“he’s kind of cute,” chae, now munching on a granola bar as she takes her break behind the nurse’s station, says as you approach. “in like a himbo way,” she elaborates when you raise a brow at her, only shrugging as she take another bite.

you shake your head in slight disappointment. “he’s my patient,” you say. “i’m not really focused on how attractive he is.”

“so you agree he’s attractive,” chae chimes, peeking up for a moment before you roll your eyes.

“i’m not doing this with you again,” is your only response, moving past her to continue with your work.

an hour later you knock gently on the door of mingi’s room before entering to find hongjoong still in the plastic chair, phone in hand as he scrolls, and mingi asleep on the bed, the heartbeat monitor beeping quietly. you take that as a good sign.

“hello,” you greet hongjoong before you move toward the bed, preparing to wake your patient.

hongjoong greets you in return, tucking his phone away so he can pay attention to what you’re doing.

you take a brief glance at the heartbeat and oxygen monitor, noticing that his vitals are normal before taping mingi on the shoulder with enough force to jostle him awake. he grunts slightly before stretching, eyes scrunching up for a moment before they blink open.

“good morning,” you say with a teasing grin and mingi turns to face you.

suddenly the beeping of the monitor that had been steady and slow before is increasing rapidly and your head whips to look at it with surprise.

“you don’t have a heart condition do you?” you ask with concern, brows furrowing as you turn back to look at mingi once again.

his face and ears are bright red and his eyes go wide before he sits up with a start. “uh no, i don’t,” he rushes out, his words shaky as he lowers his gaze to his hands that now sit in his lap, messing with the clip on his pointer finger as though he wants to remove it.

“is everything okay?” you ask with genuine concern. “what’s wrong?”

mingi clears his throat and keeps his gaze firmly focused on his hands as he answers, “nothing. i just- you’re really cute.”

“oh my god,” you hear hongjoong huff in disbelief before his face drops into his hand, eyes covered in what you can only assume is embarrassment.

now it’s your turn to blush, a heat creeping onto your cheeks as you try to calm your own heart.

“oh,” you breathe, trying to collect your thoughts and remain professional. “thank you,” you say quickly before you hurry to take the clip off his finger, ignoring the heat of his skin against your own as your hand brushes his own.

“how are your eyes?” you ask, your own gaze moving about the room sheepishly.

“good,” he chirps, voice cracking slightly.

“good,” you mirror with a sharp nod. “i’m, uh, going to write you a prescription for antibiotic drops and just use those twice a day for the next two weeks,” you say, returning to business. “just come back if they get worse.”

mingi nods, still not looking at you and you clear your throat.

“thank you,” hongjoong says for mingi, and you nod in response.

you leave as quickly as you can, eager to be rid of the weird energy that had been created in the room. luckily your shift is close to over and one of the other nurse practitioners catches the way you’re acting a bit weird as you file the prescription, telling you to go home early and she’ll cover for you. you fight for a moment before finally giving in and deciding to make a quick stop at the 24-hour convenience store on the way home.

“oh!” a familiar voice snaps you out of your thoughts about which late night snack to pick and you turn quickly to see none other than song mingi standing before you, a look of surprise on his face as he looks at you.

“hi,” you squeak, just as surprised.

you feel your blush from earlier returning and turn back to face the shelf you’d been browsing.

“i’m sorry if i made you uncomfortable before,” mingi says, keeping his distance but not looking away from you.

you shake your head and glance at him for a moment. “oh no,” you reassure, “i just wasn’t prepared.” you let out a slightly nervous laugh.

mingi hums thoughtfully and nods slowly, taking an experimental step toward you.

“could i ask you something?” he requests and you turn to face him fully.

“sure,” you reply with a gentle shrug.

“let me know if i’m overstepping,” he begins, eyes flicking from yours to the shelf of snacks and back, “but could i get your number?”

enemies to lovers

⇀ paring chef!wooyoung x host!reader

⇀ wc 2.1k

⇀ warnings wooyoung is mean, discussion of food and eating, mentions of bullying in high school

so maybe your job wasn’t the worst, and most of your coworkers were pretty manageable, but wooyoung, he’s what made it unbearable at times. you’d already asked your manager to be scheduled for when he wasn’t, but he’d explained that you were the best one up front and he was the best in the kitchen, so of course you’re both going to be scheduled during the restaurant’s busiest times. “plus maybe it will force you two to work out whatever’s wrong.”

what your manager didn’t account for was that there was no working out what was wrong, considering it had been nothing that you were aware of. wooyoung had simply looked at you on your first day and decided he hated you. could you have asked why? of course, but you’re not sure he would have told you because to every question you asked him he would simply huff and roll his eyes, telling you to ask someone else.

his little act had quickly gotten on your nerves and so you were fast to return his disdain, deciding that his uncalled for behavior was enough of a reason to hate him.

“you know, if you just talked to him you could make everyone’s lives just a little bit easier,” soonha, you’re favorite waitress, says as she unties her apron and makes sure all her pens are organized in the pockets before placing it in her locker.

she’d been listening to you complain about everything wooyoung had done during your shift that had pissed you off, from as small as walking in a minute late to the way he’d complained about you blocking his path when you were eating a snack in an empty corner of the kitchen, a spot you’d chosen because it was specifically out of the way. of course the worst had been when he’d sided with a patron that was lying about their wait time, almost getting you in trouble with the manager on duty before you actually showed her the patron’s check-in timer.

“he’s the one with the problem,” you scoff, pushing your arms through the sleeves of your jacket. “he should be the one talking to me. you know he didn’t even apologize today.”

soonha only rolls her eyes, shutting her locker before a look of surprise takes over her features and she’s whipping around to you.

“oh my gosh, i totally forgot i told kay that i would restock her citruses,” the waitress says, pulling out what you can assume is a list from the bartender, kay, of the number of lemons, limes, and oranges that needed to be brought up to the bar.

“hey let me do that,” you say, grabbing the slip of paper from her hand.

“are you sure?” she says, although the way she glances at the back door tells you that she’s not too attached to the task.

“of course,” you reassure. “you’ve got the baby at home, go,” you encourage her and she’s basically running out the back door.

“they’re just in cold storage,” she reminds you quickly as the door shuts behind her and you chuckle with a gentle shake of your head in amusement.

the task is easy enough, grabbing a small empty cardboard box from the deserted kitchen as you make your way to the walk-in refrigerator, noticing that the kitchen staff all appear to have left for the night and thanking whatever higher power was watching over you for not making you the last person in the restaurant with wooyoung.

it’s been a while since you’d actually been inside cold storage, your job description not calling for it unless you were being an extra hand for bartending, although that was something that most of your staff asked the waiters for. this mostly meant that you couldn’t remember if it was normal for the door to click like that when it closed behind you. obviously that didn’t matter much anyway and so you just continue with the task at hand, searching for wherever kitchen staff had put citruses when they were rearranging.

as you’re reaching above your head to grab a handful of lemons to place in your trusty cardboard box the door to cold storage is suddenly cracking open, nearly causing you to have a heart attack as you’d believed you were the last person in the building. to your dismay, in walks the last person you’d probably ever want to see, possibly even over some robber interested in making off with your cold stock, wooyoung. he takes a moment before he registers that it’s you and the familiar scowl takes over his features, adjusting the large box in his arms.

you try to appear unaffected by his presence, taking a breath to calm your racing heart at the shock from a moment ago and turning back to counting your lemons. you sigh as you realize he must have been in dry storage when you passed through the kitchen and curse yourself for getting your hopes up about this task being easy.

the door makes that same click as it closes behind him but you don’t hear wooyoung react, moving to the shelf right behind you and standing with his back only inches from your own. the box he’s holding makes a soft thump as it hits the ground and you clearly hear the tape ripping off the top. from what you can tell he seems to be placing whatever was in the box into the crate on the shelf behind you and you’re trying so hard not to pay attention to him as you continue your own job.

soon enough your little box is filled with the correct number of fruits, you even double checked your counting, and you turn to leave the fridge as wooyoung starts to breakdown his now empty box. however, you don’t get very far, the door not budging when you place pressure against the handle.

you let out a huff as you place your box down and grab the handle with both hands. when the door still doesn’t move you lean your shoulder against it, trying to use your body weight to leverage the thing open.

“what are you doing?”

you feel your skin prickle at his voice, obviously annoyed with whatever antics he thinks you’re up to now, and you turn around as slowly as you can manage, face blank.

“the door is stuck,” you explain and wooyoung’s face scrunches up in response before he’s moving toward you.

“move,” he demands and you slide off to the side before he can place his hand on your shoulder to move you himself.

of course he’d taken off his chef coat, leaving him in just his white undershirt and black slacks, and you resist the urge to watch his arms as he gives a harsh push to the door. unfortunately for the both of you, his shoving is just as successful as yours was and you roll your eyes at him.

“what the fuck did you do?” he says, turning to you with anger painting his features.

if you didn’t hate him you might have found him slightly attractive now, gaze dark and sharp as he looked right through you, but he had some vendetta against you and therefore you had one against him.

“me?” you say in disbelief. “why do you think i had something to do with this?”

he scoffs and it’s probably a sound you would be able to identify in your sleep at this point, having heard it so often.

“you always do,” he mutters and you don’t know what to say in response, opting instead to just roll your eyes once more and chalking it up to whatever mystery grudge he’s holding against you.

“whatever, i’ll just call-“ you cut yourself off as you dig your hands into your jacket pockets and realize that your phone is still sat inside of your open locker in the break room. “never mind,” you mumble as you pull your hands from your pockets and decide to just take a seat on the chilly floor.

“right,” wooyoung says looking down at you with one eyebrow raised before he’s pulling his own phone from his pocket.

you’re barely listening as he speaks with whoever he calls, only picking out a few words here and there as you start to realize the predicament you’re in. of all the people to be trapped with.

“mingyu should be here in half an hour or so,” wooyoung tells you before he joins you on the floor, sitting across from you. “he told us not to kill each other in the meantime.”

you just flick your eyes up to him, your expression passive, before you go back to counting the floor tiles.

you’re not sure you’ll survive until help arrives, the first minute going by in a silence that feels like it’s crawling along your skin, threatening to eat you whole. by the second minute you’ve counted all the tiles on the floor that you can see five times and have moved onto counting the crates behind wooyoung. maybe you can go through and count the things in the crates next.

“what are you doing?”

you’re tempted not to answer him but you have a feeling he’ll ask again and the only thing worse than loosing count once is loosing count twice.

“counting,” you say plainly, starting with the crates again, however, you don’t even get close to where you’d left off last time when he speaks again.

“well, stop,” he says and you make sure he sees your look of confusion and annoyance. “you’re making me paranoid,” he elaborates and you just huff, turning you head so that he’s no longer in your line of sight.

“why do you hate me?”

you immediately don’t want to hear the answer and you whip your head back to him, worry on your features as you prepare to take it back.

except you don’t take it back, his face painted with bewilderment causing you to pause. he looks as though he can’t understand why you would ask, as though the answer was written on his forehead and you should simply be able to read it.

“are you trying to tell me you don’t remember?” he asks, and it’s the first time you can recall him being genuine with you.

you shake your head with a similar look of confusion.

“high school,” he supplies as though it will jog your memory.

the only problem is that it doesn’t, you didn’t go to high school with wooyoung, in fact you didn’t go to high school with anyone you work with, because you only moved to the area after graduating.

“wooyoung,” you start as you watch his features begin to soften, “the first time i met you was here, on my first day.”

he shakes his head with force, like he’s trying to convince himself.

“you were in that group, with miri, that always laughed at me,” he continues in disbelief, continuing to ramble about this group of bullies, and you feel your heart sink.

“wooyoung,” you repeat to catch his attention and he silenced himself. “i didn’t go to high school with you.”

you watch as his shoulders, which had lifted with every word that had come out of his mouth only moments ago, drop back down and he pales, eyes wide as he really sees you for the first time.

“i’m sorry,” he says, his eyes filled with regret as he remembers every little thing he’s done to make your life at work a living hell for as long as you’ve worked here. “i’m so, so sorry.”

“honestly,” you begin, processing everything that’s happened within the last few minutes, “if i thought someone i worked with was my high school bully, i would probably do the same things you did,” you say with a chuckle and you can see a blush start to tint wooyoung’s cheeks.

there’s a moment of quiet, one that feels like the polar opposite of the silence you sat in before, and you feel like you can clearly see the gears turning inside of wooyoung’s mind.

“did you eat dinner?” he asks finally, looking at you expectantly.

you just shake your head and watch as a bashful grin makes its way onto his face.

“can we start over?” he suggests. “i can make us something,” he adds, not oblivious to the way the other chefs had bribed you with food in the past. “after mingyu saves us, of course.”

right on cue you can hear someone puttering around in the kitchen, heading your way.

“sure,” you nod gently, a soft grin on your face, as wooyoung stands, offering his hand to you.

brother’s best friend

⇀ paring soccer player!jongho x sports photographer!reader

⇀ wc 1.8k

⇀ warnings cat-calling, jongho punches somebody, cursing, implications of harassment

you’d had a crush on your older brother’s best friend, jongho, for as long as you could remember, a secret that you’d kept to yourself just as long. unfortunately, within the last few years it had gotten much more difficult to hide this little fact, partly due to the fact that you’d managed to become best friends with probably the worst secret keeper on your college campus but, mostly because you were forced by your job to interact with him more than ever.

you were one of the student sports photographers on campus, assigned to photograph the men’s soccer team in the fall, a team which jongho and your brother were apart of. that was how they met in middle school, your brother the school’s goalie while jongho played midfield, and you hadn’t known peace since. of course you loved being able to pursue your passion and get paid for it, but with each game that you had to attend it was becoming more and more difficult to focus on your job.

jongho had grown a lot during the summer before his freshman year, the training for the team intense but rewarding, and suddenly you weren’t the only one with a more than platonic interest in the boy. by sophomore year, he was a star player, attracting the attention of those who weren’t even interested in soccer, or any sport for that matter. people would start to come to games just to see jongho sweaty and focused. now, as you and jongho began your junior years, your brother a senior, your jealousy was starting to peak.

“don’t act like you wouldn’t do the same if it wasn’t your job,” billie, your best friend and roommate, said as you threw another dirty look to the group of girls that had been shouting jongho’s name every five seconds.

you’d been complaining to her about all the attention on jongho, openly admitting your jealousy as she’d managed to pry the information of your crush out of you last year.

“i wouldn’t scream his name and distract him from his game,” you bite, bringing the viewfinder back up to your eye and following the ball as someone on the opposing team threw it back into play.

your job required you to attend every soccer game, and the occasional practice, to get shots for the campus newspaper and website. billie had started to tag along as your assistant at the beginning of this semester, claiming to just be happy to hang out with you even if she wasn’t getting paid, totally not because she had a crush on your brother or anything.

“right,” billie says with a nod, adjusting the strap of your camera bag on her shoulder, “because you can get his attention without all the drama.”

your best friend had gotten some weird idea in her head that jongho was secretly in love with you, an idea that had prompted her to dig into your feelings for jongho in the first place. you tried not to listen, not wanting to let her feed any sort of delusion that you and jongho were somehow possible.

“you know, when you said you would be my assistant, i thought you meant like helping me, not being annoying,” you say sarcastically, snapping a few pictures as your attacking midfielder managed to get control of the ball.

“maybe you’re being annoying,” billie pouts in response. “i’m just saying what i see.”

you resist the urge to roll your eyes, trying to focus on who has the ball and what moments to capture.

“am i not an objective party?” she asks and you have no idea where she’s heading with this argument. “you’ve known him for years and so you’re set that he doesn’t see you that way. i’m a fresh set of eyes to tell you the truth!”

you scoff at her. “you said yourself i’ve known him for years, wouldn’t that mean i know him better? so i know that he’s not interested?” you argue, players surrounding the ball and crowding your lens.

“you’re biased,” she says with a sense of finality and you pull your camera away from your face, deciding to glance through some of the pictures you’d just taken to see if you needed to adjust any of your settings. the lighting had changed a bit since the beginning of the game.

“yeah,” you agree after a moment, “and you’re a hopeless romantic.”

you turn and trek around down the field, looking for a new angle. you hear billie running after you, your camera bag bouncing against her hip gently and you remind yourself to at least buy her dinner after this as thanks for following you around for 90 minutes.

just as you both reach the other side of the field, the referee is blowing a whistle to signal the start of halftime and you sigh, glad to already be on the side of the field where the players benches are. you weren’t required to get pictures of players on the bench or any of the team huddled, but you liked to. they made good shots to advertise the team pride and allowed everyone to have professional pictures, even if they didn’t play in that game.

“hey y/n, hey billie,” you brother says as he passes you both, jogging toward the bench to grab his water and take a rest.

billie lights up and waves as he passes, you only roll your eyes, following after your brother to get closer to the bench.

“make sure you get my left, it’s my best side,” one of the players, hojin, says jokingly as you snap a wide shot of all the players sat on the bench.

you chuckle lightly, enjoying your banter with the players, as you continue to get a few more wide angles.

“what’s your name sexy?” you hear someone call behind you and turn to see one of the players of the opposing team looking right at you.

you don’t say anything for a moment, kind of shocked that anyone on the opposing team was talking to you as that had never happened before. you recognized him as their center midfielder, opposite jongho for a majority of the game.

“none of you business!” billie calls back for you, linking her arm with your own and pulling you closer to your team.

the guy doesn’t seem all that discouraged at first, sending you a wink before his eyes flick to something, or someone, behind you and his face drops.

you turn around just in time to see your brother sitting back on the bench, features sharp, and jongho turning to look at their coach, anger clear on his face.

you try not to think anything of it, knowing that your brother and jongho were naturally very protective, as billie tugs on your arm that’s still linked with hers.

“c’mon,” she says, “don’t forget to get your huddle shot.”

you try to return to business as normal once the game resumes, making sure to get a few key pictures that are always a hit for article features, but you’ve started to let your camera drift centerfield, toward jongho. except unlike other times this has happened it’s not simply because you’re being distracted by how handsome he looks. he’s started getting a bit aggressive with the player opposite him, the one that had called to you during halftime, and you watch through your lens as the player says something to jongho. whatever he said must have really upset jongho because just as you’re pulling away from the viewfinder he reels back and sends his fist right into the other guy’s face.

you feel your blood run cold as you watch the whole interaction unfold, a ref blowing the whistle sharply as he runs to centerfield. your brother, who had been on the bench, bolts for jongho, other players from both teams moving in to break up whatever is happening. somehow the other player manages to remain standing after the hit, stumbling back a bit, and jongho takes a few steps forward with a raised fist before your brother gets to him and pulls him back.

“what the actual fuck is wrong with you?” you hear your brother saying as he drags jongho toward the bench.

you hand billie your camera, telling her you’ve got enough for today and that she can just mess around with it before you stomp toward the bench yourself. your best friend sends you a slightly concerned, if not sympathetic, look as you leave but does as you say.

“are you crazy?” you say once you get to where jongho is sat, your brother popping a disposable ice pack and placing it onto his hand.

“if you’re here to lecture me i don’t need it,” jongho grunts. “i already know it was a bad idea.”

you scoff in disbelief as your eyebrows shoot up. “a bad idea? it was unbelievably stupid! what in the world would posses you to do something like that?”

jongho looks up at you for a moment, eyes blank, before looking at your brother who’s stood next to you, looking at his best friend expectantly.

“well?” you brother says, crossing his arms.

“some people should just keep their mouth shut,” jongho says looking down at his hand that’s covered by the ice pack and you scoff again, crossing your own arms.

“jongho,” you say sternly and he looks up at you again, eyes almost pleading for you not to press further. “i know you. this is not you.”

he shrugs, trying to seem nonchalant, before saying, “maybe it is.”

you sigh, sitting down next to jongho and placing a hand gently on top of his forearm.

“no it’s not,” you insist, much softer as you rub your thumb along his arm soothingly.

your own palm tingles at the sensation of his skin against yours but you can’t bring yourself to pull away.

jongho looks at your hand on him for a moment before glancing up at your face. after a moment he turns to where your brother is still standing and ticks his head in some sort of signal that has your brother patting jongho’s shoulder once before leaving you both.

“you asked if i was crazy,” jongho starts, turning to meet your slightly confused gaze. “i am crazy,” he says with a humorless laugh, “crazy for you.”

your thumb stops it’s movements as you freeze, wondering if you’re hearing him right.

“i couldn’t let him get away with what he was saying about you,” jongho explains. “i just snapped.”

you close your eyes, shaking your head like you’re trying to get rid of the thoughts clouding your judgement, before you ask, “can we go back to the part where you’re crazy?”

he chuckles again and you open your eyes to see a soft smile on his face.

“i’ve had the biggest, most embarrassing crush on you for years y/n,” he says, a blush dusting his cheeks.

your own lips curl into a smile as you reply, “that’s impossible because i’ve had the biggest, most embarrassing crush on you for years jongho.”

↼ ateez masterlist

note hope you enjoyed and these couples may be making a reappearance at some point in the future (also if you genuinely want to know the hangul just translates to “hey, where are you from”)

feedback always appreciated

[noctunis]

sephiroth w/ a little sister!reader !? I don't see many headcanons / fic / anything of Sephiroth with this type of scenario although I consider it something cute & fun x'D, specifically Seph discovering that his little and beloved (?) sister has several guys with a love interest behind her. How would Seph be in the situation, would he be a protective older brother, would he be the type that scares them away with just a deadly look? My, many possibilities! (⁠☆⁠▽⁠☆⁠)

sephiroth’s little sister hcs 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

sephiroth (ffvii) x reader (platonic!!)

┊ ˚➶ notes ｡˚ 🎼

THIS REQUEST WAS SOO CUTE I NEVER SEE LITTLE SISTER HCS LIKE THIS EITHERR. thank you for the request anon, hope i did it justice !! 💗

┊ ˚➶ warnings ｡˚ 🎼

intended lowercase, mentions of pre and post nibelheim, mentions of hojo (he’s a warning within itself), possessiveness but like not in a weird way.. seph’s just crazy, lmk if i missed anything!!

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄

❥ soooo.. starting off!!

❥ i think that sephiroth with a little sister would definitely be interesting; the war hero now being seen with an ultimately younger girl, it’d be amusing seeing such a difference between the two especially if you’re shorter.

❥ i’m not sure how being sephiroth’s sister would necessarily work considering he was an “experiment” of jenova, and from my knowledge after lucrecia gave birth to him she was crystallized in the crystal caves? but if we’re ignoring that and maybe that didn’t happen or something like that idk, i think it’d be pretty hectic, especially if you were also an experiment of jenova’s cells.

❥ both pre and post sephiroth would love you dearly. pre sephiroth would make it a mission to visit you as much as possible and would try to fit some time in his schedule to go and hang out with you. usually, he’d go take walks with you or if you like food then he’d be insistent on making a trip of trying a bunch of new places.

❥ he is honestly your biggest defender— although i don’t expect a lot of people to disrespect you while a close-to-six-foot first class SOLDIER is looming right behind you. i dont know if he’d let you out of his sight all that often when you’re around him, his instincts just kinda kick in so he’s following you around like a dog.

❥ if you were known by genesis and angeal crisis-core era, and genesis hits on you or even tries to flirt??? ooh sephiroth is right behind you in an instant. he is NOT letting genesis get with you at all, i’m sorry in advance to the self insert x genesis readers that had this idea in mind but i def don’t think that seph would be okay with you dating his friends. even angeal, whom he trusts very dearly and knows that he wouldn’t try anything with you, would have sephiroth feeling iffy.

❥ if you had “suitors” or if you were popular with the boys ( and maybe the ladies too if you’re just THAT suave ), ooh sephiroth would have a heart attack. he’d want you to choose who you want, of course, but be prepared for sephiroth lurking around every corner like a cat. if you bring your partner to meet him? he’s gonna look like the scariest mf regardless if he’s trying to be or not.

❥ he especially doesn’t want you to do anything with his job. if you have jenova cells or if extraordinary strength then he might feel a little better if you were to be involved with the SOLDIER program or shinra, but if you’re a civilian then he’d rather not get you involved with his duties. there’s too much on the line and he can’t risk you getting hurt, also another reason why he prefers to keep you on the down low or for him to only visit you.

❥ also another thought, but i just keep imagining zack flirting with you or meeting you and thinking you’re absolutely GORGEOUS ( because if you’re related to sephiroth.. you gotta be pretty let’s be honest that mans so beautiful ) ( we don’t talk about hojo though, there’s no way he’s related to seph. vincent gotta be the daddy ), but then once he sees that sephiroth is your brother he literally goes WHITE. starts trying to subtly be more friendly and lowkey apologize for his behavior.. spoiler alert; zack is not subtle.

❥ now whatever you do.. don’t imagine sephiroth meeting you the day before heading out to nibelheim. whatever you don’t, think imagine you guys walking at night as he talks about how worried he is for his friends, and how he thinks zack is going to do. and whatever you do, don’t imagine reminiscing after the village burns down, your mind trailing back to the last hug he gave you before he found out what he really was.

❥ if you were to still stay with post nibelheim sephiroth, he wouldn’t let you out of his sight. he can’t lose you at all, not now— not now that he knows you’re the only thing he has left. he’ll go through the motions of being very cold to you sometimes and then being very overprotective

❥ he’d come home one day from only the lord knows where, and wake you up in the middle of the night. and when you finally awake, he wouldn’t let you go. i imagine he’d feel conflicted. sephiroth was dehumanized from birth and ostracized from a normal life as he never met his true mother lucrecia and hojo had no interest in claiming him other than for his own benefit as a scientist. if you were dealt with such things as well, or maybe you were separated because sephiroth was the superior experiment, it wouldn’t matter; sephiroth contained these feelings that he didn’t know how to feel or express himself about.

❥ he wouldn’t understand why he felt this way, especially having no sort of concept of family brought to him within the early years of his life, but all he knows is that he has you

❥ he only has you— and he’s not willing to risk losing you anytime soon.

[11queensupreme11]

.. Some yans should NOT be recruited to help look for their chaos gremlins in the HSR-verse. Loki and Aha meeting would be such a doomed timeline, and ironically those would probably be the most harmless Gods/Aeons to meet eachother 😭 They would cause so much chaos but at least they'd be doing it for shits and giggles, other yans would probably lock the fuck in on their malicious agendas. Also Loki is a 50/50 on wether he'd get distracted and go goof off and fuck around in a whole new playground, because he actually does love his kids so. Depending on the severity of the situation (relating to his kids anyway, he doesn't give a shit about the planets getting murked but he might get nervous if some factions start banding together to take down his kids because they're. Yknow. Destroying the universe or whatever. Or maybe he's just get irritated instead of worried depending on the situation and which feeling strikes him first..)

Beelzebub would be given way too much freedom and too many opportunities for experiments. He would put Ruan Mei to SHAME when it comes to unethical experimentation. She wants to create an Aeon?? He'll find a way to do something WORSE. (Ruan Mei was also responsible for Fireflys whole planet dying I'm pretty sure, because she was the one who recreated the Swarm that eradicated it. She propagated a planetary-level threat of a species and somehow. She WOULD be outdone. Also hes one of the yans that give the least shits about his kids, so unless theyre actively about to get murdered and traumatise their mother hed be more likely to get distracted doing his own thing while his wifey has things handled)

If Cu is called in, maybe he'd have too much fun tying to conquer places if he's big on that? I haven't seen much of his character so I can't speak for him accurately but I feel like he's the type 😭

Anubis would be one of the only yans that would focus on actually doing what he's brought there to do. And look for his kids.. he's family-oriented like that 🥰 but his attention span might get in the way if he sees something cool or interesting or that would make a goof gift for Percy, or his kids or—

Hades will probably listen to her. Might be the best one from the emergency contacts list to call in tbh. He'd definitely care about actually getting his kids back at least, and wouldn't be too much of a threat to the HSR-verse?? I don't think he'd have any particular desire to fuck with them unless. Idk some of them happen to get a little too attached to Percy. Or one of his kids gets too attached to a particular character or planet.. can't be having that! He needs his whole family to come home with him after all.

Poseidon.. would be Poseidon! 😀 (Percy don't call this mf in. It's Poseidon. He's not gonna do shit. IF he finds one of those missing kids and it's an annoying one he will smite that little shit without a second thought and when you ask if he's seen them he'll be all 🫥 who are the speaking of again. I do not know this spawn of yours. Do you want to go on a daddy-daughter date and also maybe enslave a planet while we're here?? (And away from the other Yans..) (He'd be the same even if it was one of his own kids in some cases 💀 Most cases, actually 💀)

Main character syndrome won't save anyone from them, the Trailblazers are DONE unless they stay out of the Percy kids way 😭 Unless the power of Plot™️ allows for an encounter with Percy, in which case.. The Express sure would be convenient for getting her to every location she needs to get to in order to collect her freaky ass kids before they destroy a universe. It still might not be enough, but there's a glimmer of hope..

I can imagine her showing up somewhere like the Luofu (those interactions would be fun given that immortality is a whole thing there and she's half-mortal half-immortal. She might get arrested for illegal experimentation or some shit since immortality schemes are a whole taboo thing there, and the current long life species on the Xianshou Luofu had to be born that way) and just being like. 'Yes hello, on the authority of my lovely new Trailblazer friends, I need to speak with you government or defence force or whatever the fuck you guys got going on, because you see. I have birthed. horrors. and they may be coming your direction. If they do just give me a call kay 😊'

One day she inevitably GETS that call and has ro rush across the universe to look at whichever menace is attacking the poor HSR inhabitants. It's just some looming eldritch entity that's probably going to swallow up their planet or some shit, unless the kid decided to take the more stealthy approach and came in a humanoid form. If they don't listen to reason she pulls the 'I'll tell your dad' card, despite the fact she probably wouldn't because she doesn't want those harsh punishments :( but she'll totally threaten them with it if she thinks it'll resolve the situation by scaring them into behaving 😭

The HSR inhabitants are gobsmacked and lowkey wondering. Who the fuck their father must be if these god-level threats are terrified of them 😭 (For good reason for the Beel kids, ik I keep mentioning them but. They're definitely the most likely to pull shit like this AND Beel's my favourite I can't help it I'm biased 🥺)

💫 (idk if I'll be a regular but some people designate emoji to their anons so. In case I say something that I need you to recognise me for to not sound like a rambling crazy person here is mine 🥹 Also I'm so glad you enoyed!!! I felt bad afterwards like I was spamming you I got a lil too excited to share my thoughts 🥺😭💞 I'm happy I got your crossover juices flowing!! Its always so fun to ponder about and imagine..)

you're spot on for loki 😭😭 it's 50/50 for him. he will ABSOLUTELY want to have fun and mess around in the universe a bit but the second percy or his kids need him, he's dropping shit fast. HOWEVER.... baldurvæn will be his first priority kid to check on when he enters the hsr verse cuz well.... baldurvæn's a sweetie pie with the mind of a toddler 😭 once he's sure baldurvæn's safe with mommy, and that his wife and kids are okay, THEN he will wreak havoc 💀

BEELZEBUB IS LITERALLY THE WORST PERSON TO ENTER THE HSR UNIVERSE 💀💀💀💀💀 cuz like you said, he would definitely experiment on some of the monsters there out of curiosity and probably make his own evil eldritch abomination and then go "meh" and ditch it cuz it's a "disappointment" or whatever 💀💀💀💀 meanwhile that abomination is probably powerful enough to destroy a planet or two 😭😭😭 so percy not only has her babies to look for, but now she needs to get rid of her stupid husband's science projects 💀

cú chulainn would actually be panicking instead of going straight to "let's colonize some planets!!! 👹" why???? because of his DAUGHTERS 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 this man hordes his daughters and wife in the palace and now you're telling him they're scattered around this universe WITHOUT HIS PROTECTION?!?!?!?!?!?! cearbhall he's fine with cuz he's confident in his son, BUT WHO'S OUT THERE WITH HIS BABIES?! WHO'S WITH HIS WIFE?! 😱😱😱😱😱 he's running around the hsr universe like a headless chicken terrorizing everyone like "HAVE YOU SEEN MY DAUGHTERS?! *pulls out a hundred photos cuz he has a 100 daughters* AND WHAT ABOUT MY WIFE, HAVE YOU SEEN HER?!"

anubis is also spot-on. this man would LOCK THE FUCK IN when it comes to his family!!!!!!!!! but then he spots a space squirrel or whatever and starts chasing it 💀💀💀💀 or passes by a toy store and decides to rob the whole place cuz he thinks his kids might like the toys. 😭😭😭😭 unfortunately, percy would have to stick with him which would be counterproductive cuz they whole reason she called his ass in was so they could split up and look around 😭

YES HADES IS LITERALLY THE BEST CHOICE HERE 😭😭😭 in fact, he might even help percy in finding her other kids too (as in, the kids she has with the other yans) 💖💖💖💖💖 he is so helpful because he ALSO has that stern "mom voice" that gets the kids to shut up and do as their told 😭😭😭 bless him he's just the best 😭💖 but as for his kids, no one had BETTER not get attached to them or his beloved wife because he would definitely not be pleased with that. ESPECIALLY if they're the pushy type. the chances he might kill that person is 50/50 depending on his mood tho

poseidon.... oh poseidon, what are we gonna do with you 💀💔 now he wouldn't KILL any of his kids, but holy shit are they in for an ass-whooping when he drags them back home 😭😭😭😭😭😭 honestly, calling him would be percy's LAST RESORT. her kids would have to be extremely fucking stubborn, in danger, or just straight up cannot be found for her to call in poseidon for help 😭

apollo (omg bro YOU FORGOT TO ADD APOLLO IN UR ASK ASHDFAUHV POOR APOLLO LMAO) would be just as frantic as cú chulainn, but with both his sons AND daughters 🥺💔 like with the other yans, percy would prefer to split up so they can cover more ground but his paranoid ass doesn't want to be separated from his wife so now she's just stuck trying to console her frantic husband while searching for her kids 😭 most of the perpollo babies are responsible though so she's not TOO worried, but she just wants to get them back home already for her sake (and sanity)

i can imagine this whole thing starting with percy going into hsr verse after her kids and because she's new to the area, she can't just teleport around cuz she has no idea where she could even teleport to so she joins the astral express lmao (i'm making up some bs just cuz i want her to be part of the main crew)

ofc, she doesn't tell them the FULL truth of her identity and why she wants to join them but like... the astral express takes in strays all the time so they don't mind lmao. story starts in the herta space station like in the plot. they meet the trailblazer and whoops, some of her kids are attacking the station uh oh! anyway, secret's out and they decide to let percy stick around cuz her kids are LITERALLY trying to destroy a bunch of planets so the plot just centers around them traveling to various planets to stop that from happening 😭😭😭😭😭 and percy being the rizzler she is probably ends up growing a whole new harem without her realizing it which her yan hubbies absolutely would NOT like lol

also: 'Yes hello, on the authority of my lovely new Trailblazer friends, I need to speak with you government or defence force or whatever the fuck you guys got going on, because you see. I have birthed. horrors. and they may be coming your direction. If they do just give me a call kay 😊'

LMAO 😭😭😭😭😭😭 she straight up would say this 😭😭😭😭😭

and her pulling the "i'm calling ur dad" card on them aushgfahsvjhv this would absolutely work with the beelcy and posy kids 😭

percy: stop doing that right now, young man >:(

evil spawn: no >:)

percy, pulling out her phone: do you want me to call daddy? (beel/poseidon) daddy's gonna be very angry with you! >:(

evil spawn: NO! 😨

percy: ok now be a good boy and come back home with mommy or else i'll call daddy!

evil spawn: yes mother.... :'(

the hsr character: 👁️👄👁️

and yessss, 💫 anon is perfect!

[sarafangirlart]

Did Kaos even explain why the three humans “destined to destroy Zeus/the Gods” are specifically Eurydice, Caeneus and Ariadne? Because if they really wanted a “we hate the gods” story shouldn’t the chosen three be. severely wronged or abandoned by the gods / the fates?

Like Oedipus? Lamia? Cassandra? Daphne? Arachne? Callisto? Hell I’d even watch a smackdown of Clytemnestra vs Artemis or Menelaus and Helen vs Aphrodite any time then watch a whole other boring show following the same bad story tropes.

They don’t really explain it no, but I was so eager for it to be over I likely missed it, this show seems surprising hesitant to show the more gruesome side of mythology, if they adapted the story that Caeneus was raped by Poseidon and they show how angry and miserable he is about it I would’ve totally been on board, tho someone mentioned that considering the current social environment is especially hostile towards trans ppl nowadays, having someone transition after assault could be bad “pr” so to speak, tho I don’t think we should bend a knee to transphobes/terfs and make representation that’s more palatable and presentable, human experience is messy and we shouldn’t shy away from that in an attempt to make bigots less hostile towards minorities bc they will always be hostile.

If they show Eurydice being angry about Aristaeus not facing any consequences for trying to assault her I’d understand that too mythology Eurydice has zero beef with Hera, but she could feel resentment towards Aristaeus and by extension Apollo (since he’d likely defend his son), gods rarely face consequences for assaulting mortals, Euripides’s Ion tackles that subject way better than all of these “Gods bad” modern retelling (tho I wish Creusa didn’t forgive Apollo bc that mf didn’t even have the balls to show his face).

Instead of Ariadne, who usually gets a happy ending and becomes a goddess herself, how about going with Apemosyne? Another Cretan princess. Her story is extremely depressing, she’s screwed over by a god and her own family, considering that half the show takes place in the underworld she’d fit right in. Considering she’ll be “coworkers” with Hermes it would especially suck for her. But considering that Dionysus is made to be one of the “good ones” even tho in mythology he brainwashed women into slaughtering their families, they’d probably portray Hermes as such too, since he’s usually simply the comic relief in adaptations anyway.

That’s another thing, they water down the gods who are supposed to be good guys and make the “bad guy” worse, in this version Hades never kidnapped Persephone that’s just propaganda in universe. The Fates and Furies are goddesses but in this show they’re against the gods bc of that meander water thing? Don’t they drink it too?

I think they realized that their hesitancy means that they won’t be showing us bad things the gods actually did and so they make up random bullshit like Hera owning tongueless priestesses and Zeus killing a kitten. Cassandra is in the show but she’s more of an exposition machine tho it’s hinted she’ll play a bigger role in season 2, but why couldn’t she be one of the three humans destined to destroy Zeus? Why aren’t any of the Trojans destined to destroy Zeus? Why do they have to be saved by Greeks? Sure Zeus in mythology had a soft spot for them but he still planned the destruction of their city (could be a decent metaphor for an abuser who says that they love their victim while still abusing them imo) but Kaos Zeus doesn’t have that goodwill towards the Trojans so why not have them rightfully take him down? In the final episode Andromache and Ariadne team up and agree to fight against Olympus, tho that reminds me of Acrisius in the Clash of the Titans remake being more of a dumb dumb than he is in the myths and started a war against Mount Olympus only to unsurprisingly fail.

I really dislike how the Trojans are portrayed in the show, clearly they are supposed to be allegory for modern middle eastern refugees in Europe yet all the main Trojan characters are played by white actors. They have such a racially diverse cast but they seem uninterested in actually representing the diversity of the Mediterranean and mythology as a whole.

[tonydaddingham]

✨already on the metatron erasure campaign™ let's fucking go✨:

*EDIT, IMPORTANT* I can't believe i even missed this...but metatron is dressed in a dark coat and (iirc) tie

we know from s1 that metatron has very little patience for aziraphale, was pro-armageddon, and at least claimed to be the voice of God (when my man is basically a glorified answerphone)

the half-and-half miracle was conducted on top of the sigil, the transportation circle through which aziraphale dialled 101-metatron in s1, and we know the miracle ended up being Very Powerful

michael doesn't seem to recognise metatron... which is odd as theyre high ranking, uriel and saraqael seem to recognise him, they've definitely met, and michael was shown in the job minisode to have pretty good recollection for job's kids' names - possible memory wipe? saw something they weren't supposed to?

says he has consumed human matter before - why would metatron have been on earth??? and know what to order in a mf café???

speaking of the café, the dialogue, about people asking for death? "No... I don't suppose they do... So predictable."not sure on what this means but 💀 fckin weirdo

refers to muriel as the dim one but still puts her in charge of a heaven sanctuary on earth? as far as we know, the only one? hmmm seems like you want a puppet metty babes

butters up aziraphale with the sweet, cosy coffee - but indicating that he barely knows him at all given that we mainly see aziraphale drinking tea

what he ordered in the café was a small dash of almond syrup, but then describes it to aziraphale as being a hefty jigger of the stuff, indicating something added? wondering if there's further significance to the laudanum poison - an opiate? planning to essentially kidnap aziraphale knowing that crowley won't come looking now?

'hmm it's nice!" "yes I should jolly well hope so" 😁

a veeeeeery faint miracle chime as the coffee is handed over and when aziraphale raises it to his mouth, but hesitates... He asks "shall i...?" And metty goes:

"DRINK IT???😠 of course🙂"

definitely History™ with crowley; crowley readily recognises him after a moment, the look metatron gave him as they left the shop was filthy, and: "ah well! always did want to go his own way... always asking damn fool questions, too!"... like i get metatron is the voice of God, but was it metatron that actually made crowley fall? does metatron have that power, not exclusively god? did metatron say it was on god's orders?

plus - metatron tells aziraphale that he can reverse falling which, to me, seems like a pretty bomb ass power... and a bit OP even for the highest Archangel of heaven, leading me to:

very low, sultry ass voice, maintaining eye contact with aziraphale - all trademarks of hypnotism (temptation?) behaviour? while aziraphale was possibly drugged?

and was the promise of getting crowley restored to heaven actually a bluff, metatron knowing the aziraphale even attempting to broach it with crowley would split them up?

"go tell your friend the good news!!" Said in a voice that makes me think metty knows it's very Bad News Bears

is the whole thing a ploy to split them up? they came together in heaven, and then again on earth; is metatron trying to solve this one by essentially making aziraphale an offer he can't refuse, but that crowley absolutely will?

why choose the lift? why not just power up the circle and go through the sunroof???

and im sorry metatron but you must realise that aziraphale is severely underqualified right💀

[iminyourwallsbabe]

Gyaru hot takes

First and foremost, having the mindset isn't enough. Gyaru is very much a makeup and fashion based subculture. BUT, that does not mean you need to look that way 24/7 nor does it mean that someone who does these things but doesn't have the mindset is any more gyaru than you. If we're being fr, I have more respect for people who put more emphasis on the mindset than the people who don't actually respect what it means despite wearing the style. And some of you truly do not exhibit that mindset, which takes me into my next take.

Racism and other weird shit like that is way too normalized. The whole point, the whole reason gyaru was created was not only to put a middle finger up to beauty standards and allow young women in Japan to exist freely and be themselves outside of the constraints of what society expected from them. What to emphasize is those constraints because a lot of that seems to go over your heads. Those constraints dictate what women and men can and should be, those constraints create a narrow idea of what it means to be Japanese, those constraints dictate who is valuable in society and who shouldn't be given the time of day. When you shit on black gals, Chinese gals, or gals with disabilities, you help perpetuate the very things that people were fighting against in the first place. I also want to point out how much cultural appropriation y'all let slide because it "goes against the beauty standards". You miss the implications of that entirely. Like if I see a gal (who's not black) with box braids or fulani braids and I'm like "hey wtf" and you tell me "omgggg RELAX the whole point is to go against the beauty standards", you're not helping your point. You just indirectly called several countries traditions ugly and the fact that they're being worn to stand out and make people mad moreso than out of respect for what they mean to people is absolutely insane to think is okay. Again, that kind of activity helps fuel the very systems that people broke away from in the first place. Y'all make it very hostile for gals outside of Japan (and gals that aren't white). Which is not "wild, fun and sexy".

On the subject of hair, I also don't think you really have to do anything special with your hair to be gyaru. Like not even remotely. Idk where this idea came from but no. If you look back at early gals and the people who inspired them, you'll notice that the hair isn't super crazy. Most of the time they were just blonde, and not even that is really a requirement. Like for some subcultures I'd understand a little bit, but even then, it doesn't feel necessary, especially if you have all the other elements. Shit, you don't even NEED hair. Be bald and be bold and you'll still be 10 times more gyaru than the mfs telling you you need to do things one specific way.

And to wrap it up, I also think the community over complicates the fashion aspect of gyaru and it turns a lot of newcomers off. Again, look at what gyaru started off as. These were not super special outfits that you couldn't find anywhere else, they were tank tops and jean skirts. When we get into subcultures or more extreme levels of gyaru, it might get a little more specific but over all? If you really wanted to, you could probably find a whole gyaru outfit at your local bargainland, or it's already in your closet. Like life gets so much easier (and less expensive) when you realize that a lot of gyaru fashion isn't actually gyaru specific. The thing that makes it gyaru is the makeup and the motifs. Usually in combination. Like if I see someone wearing a ton of hibiscus flower patterned clothes or lots of cheetah print, I can make a few guesses as to what kind of subculture they're in, and one of those guesses would be gyaru until I see their face or talk to them. So no, you don't need that dia belt that bad. It will not make you less gyaru not to have it. And for the love of god y'all, please learn some diy skills

[paintedonmyteeth]

GHOSTFACE! ⋆｡°✩👻🔪

Ohmygod look a Ghost. Ghostface posting ha??? How fuckin’ cool is that????? I think it’s pretty neat :)) And speaking of Ghostface I’ve gotten too fond of this man recently (besides my beloved Pyramid Head ofc), so I thought why tf not give it a whack and write something of this doofus??? And bc this is a first writing smth for Ghostface, I’ve decided go with DBD’s Ghostface, Danny Johnson because I found him pretty easy to navigate with lore-wise and much easier to invent things with this silly little man, (Stu Macher was one to come to mind but I decided no bc Danny looked more fun to write besides a Ghostface from Scream movie franchise). So yeah, anymore posts of this menace in the future is mainly going to be surrounding Danny Johnson.

OFF TOPIC NOTE BUT— recently I’ve been considering of maybe opening up requests with writing head canons and things for Pyramid Head and Ghostface for the fun of it besides mainly writing things for myself, a possibility some time in the future, but for now I’m sticking with reblogs and randomly writing things whenever an idea comes to me. Anyways moving onto my fucking shenanigans now—

It’s been some weeks then and unbeknownst to you, you had grabbed the attention of the infamous killer in Roseville.

Another few days in and you’re already noticing some peculiar shit going on. Some of your stuff’s missing, you found your lock on your door open, you got a strange call from somebody. Shit be getting pretty fuckin’ creepy and you’re not liking it one bit.

Ofc Danny wouldn’t give a shit— it’s all going so smoothly and according to plan! Sooner or later from there he’ll get to reveal himself as your stalker and the hunt officially begins once you pick up that phone.

It’s all going way too fuckin’ smooth, hell it’s smooth sailing for this man, and then he’ll cut to the chase and finally go in for the kill to immortalizing his next victim in his header for tomorrow’s papers.

BUT NO- apparently he underestimated you, fucking severely, and you ended up surviving his attack and the invasion into the personal space of your very own home. Danny was shocked overall, he’d least expect you to be shitting your pants from fear, because everybody in Roseville would know about his reputation.

Of course Danny was pretty pissed, a smart one that you are. But at the same time, after watching you countlessly and seeing you in action, he found you rather interesting in some ways.

And now he’s stalking you almost every night — for different reasons of course. He had the rule for himself to never get attached to any of victims but he couldn’t resist this magnetic pull towards you for some reason. Of course he might still try to kill you here and there, otherwise where’s the fun if he’s not keeping you on your toes???

He’s making this shit confusing for you, you don’t know if he’s either wanting to kiss you or kill you, hell, it could be both.

And you shouldn’t be surprised at all due to the fact that this mf’s going to be showing up at your house guaranteed. You might tell him to buzz off but he won’t. :)

Even though he knows your name he’s already coming at ya with the fuckin’ nicknames, like: Bunny, little mouse, brat (lovingly), babes, sweetheart, literally anything he could think of for you.

Obsessive behaviour be really fucking cooking.

Overtime you somehow got used to Ghostface’s looming presence no matter how much of a flirtatious nuisance he is and it sort of sprouted into a weird dynamic from there.

And Danny on the other hand is obviously not getting bored of you at all any time soon, it’s never going to fucking happen bae. But you still find him annoying most of the time whenever he comes swinging by. And now you have Roseville’s infamous serial killer utterly fond with you and never letting you go. Can’t have shit in fuckin’ Roseville. >:((

☠︎︎༒︎✞︎🕸𖤐