#(this is as tender as they get- at least for now. the idiots. <3)

[nomazee]

Silly little thing I thought of

Like like imagine dazai and the reader have been friends for years like the reader knew him since his 15 goofer era... and they got used to eachother sm they usually sleep in eachothers beds n stuff :3

LIKE SOMETHING IS GOING ON BUT THEY STILL HAVE THE FRIENDSHIP LABEL.. 🐺🤞

this concept stuck itself in my head like a tapeworm and it has not escaped me for days IM ACTUALLY OBSESSED i wrote SO MUCH for this omfg i had so much fun writing this thank u for this wonderful idea pairing: dazai x gn reader word count: 2.5k content: fluff, vignette-style writing, friends-to-lovers unspoken label type of thing, soft dazai, domestic fluff without the marriage bit, banter, idiots in love im taking requests!

===

Dazai’s toes are still as frigid at night as they were seven years ago. You, of all people, would be the best person to measure this—not in a weird way, but you two have shared a bed at least once a week since your teenage years. You know all of Dazai’s annoying sleeping habits, including his ones of sleeping without socks and digging his feet into your shins for warmth. 

Annoying fucker. You sigh, batting his arm away from its loose hold around your waist. “Get your toes off of me,” you croak out, half-conscious and mind still addled with the remains of your once-deep sleep.

“What toes,” Dazai mutters back, smacking your intervening hand away and returning his arm to its rightful place around you. “I don’t have toes. I got rid of them after puberty, ‘member?” 

“I’m gonna kill you.” You won’t, not really, and the threats have lost their edge after all these years, but it’s fun to throw at him when he annoys you like this. “I know all your weaknesses, Osamu. One wrong move and you’ll be missing more than just your toes.” 

“I’m cold, dear. Would you really let me freeze like this? So mean.” 

You try not to choke up at the nickname. He’s been a fan of those recently, at least in the last year. You think it has something to do with your new places at the Agency. New workplace, new life, and new nicknames, apparently. If you overthink it you might puke on him and fall back asleep. 

“Not cruel. We have money now, you know. Go buy yourself socks. Wool, or something. Stupid ass cold ass toes.”

He goes quiet. Even in all these years of knowing him, half-living with him, you can’t tell if it’s a normal lull in the conversation or a calculated pause. It doesn’t unnerve you as much as it used to, but there’s still a cold chill at the nape of your neck that springs up at times like these. 

“Why would I do that when I have you?” 

Dazai has also been a fan of this recently—strange uncharacteristic moments of tenderness. He peels himself back for you and bares himself raw. The implications make you nauseous. Swathed in the darkness of the night, he can’t see your fingers twitch from where they lay next to your head, away from his sight; or the conflicted expression that crosses your face. 

Easing your breath out into a steady, deep rhythm, you pretend to be asleep. It’s not like he can’t tell, but the message is there. Let’s not talk about this until the morning. Let’s just sleep for the night. Let’s keep what we have and not change it for the worse. 

==

At age eighteen, shaken with the death of his friend and haunted by blood stains on his fingers, Dazai defects from the mafia. 

He doesn’t take you with him—at least, he doesn’t mean to. He expects to leave quietly, or as quietly as blowing up Chuuya’s car can be. He doesn’t expect you to drag yourself along kicking and screaming. 

Dazai doesn’t remember much about specifics, but he knows that one day he was alone in his underground apartment and the next day you were there. The kitchen smelled like melted marshmallows and rice krispies and his dingy counter was covered in sprinkles. 

“Hi, Dazai,” you’d greeted conversationally. “I’m making your favorite.” 

He doesn’t even like rice krispie treats. Hates them, actually. 

In truth, your presence is less the result of you “kicking and screaming” and more like an after-effect of your own quiet stubbornness. Your kicking-and-screaming was done in the passive aggressive way that you cleaned his dishes and made his bed and left big trays of rice krispie treats in his fridge for the next week. 

Neither of you talked about Chuuya. It was better for you that way. 

On the first night, Dazai remembers you holding him from behind, forehead pressed into the stretch of skin between his neck and shoulder. He’s sensitive there despite being wrapped in his stupid scratchy bandaids. His memories for the rest of the night are overrun by a feeling of want, an itch to feel your fingers on his bare skin, a craving for your hand on his stomach to slide beneath the hem of his shirt and press into the tender skin of his abdomen and keep him warm.  

===

“Leave me alone,” you grumble from behind the sleeve of your jacket. “I’m napping.” 

“It’s not napping if you’re still awake.” 

“I wouldn’t be awake if it wasn’t for your annoying ass.” Rotating your body to face the ceiling from your place on the Agency’s couch, you sigh when your view is blocked by Dazai’s ugly stupid face. He’s smiling in that conniving way that he does when he’s about to do something super annoying. Another sigh escapes you when he leans down close enough for the overgrown ends of his hair to brush against your nose. The puff of air from your verbal discontent makes the strands sway slightly. You try not to think about how mesmerizing he looks when he’s this close, with the light from the window casting a golden sheen on the crown of his head. 

Since when did you get this sappy? Must be Dazai rubbing off on you, obviously. 

“So tired already! It’s barely noon.” 

“You came into work an hour ago. I’ve been here since eight. Try being responsible for a change, might exhaust you just as much.” 

“Hmm.” He tilts his head, big stupid shiny brown eyes blinking down at you like he’s observing a specimen. “I think I’m more than responsible enough.” 

“Sure,” you relent, turning back around to shove your face into the corner of the couch and block out the incoming light. It’s the truth—you’re exhausted. A persistent weariness permeates your bones from how much you’ve been working these last few weeks. It’s not like it’s anyone’s fault in particular, not even Dazai’s despite how much he slacks on paperwork. But looming threats from enemy organizations hang over everyone’s heads and there’s no shortage of uncertainty in the Agency. It’s been mission after mission for you, and you’re taking every break you can get. 

Rustling sounds from above you, but you pay it no mind, busying yourself with nestling all of your body into the crevices of the couch and hopefully turning into a piece of furniture yourself. It might be a more peaceful life, really. The calm is short-lived when you feel fingers tap along your cheek—not in a rousing gesture, but something along the lines of placating. 

Dazai squeezes a hand beneath your head and cups the side of your face pressed against the couch, tilting it closer to him before you feel a warm press of lips against your cheek. He lingers. He always does. You can feel the gentle inhales and exhales breeze against your face before he breaks his kiss away. Your cheek is warm for more reasons than one. 

“Take care of yourself,” and oh, god, you’ll never get used to this, never get used to how tender and soft he’s become with you, never get used to how this Agency has fostered something like kindness in both of you. Your stomach stirs with something unnamed and if you were braver, you’d blink your eyes open and reach up and grab the sides of his face and pull him down to you. 

But you’re not brave, and there’s people still behind you in the office, and you wonder what led Dazai to be soft enough to kiss your face like that in front of everyone. You’re sure they’re watching you both. The Agency is full of gossips, whether they admit it or not. 

===

“Dazai,” Ango Sakaguchi grits out from behind the crackling reception of a burner phone. “They were not a part of the plan.” 

“You think I don’t know that, Ango?” Dazai replies, tone more playful than aggressive. “I know they’re not a part of the plan. They knew they weren’t part of the plan, too. But it’s too late to do anything about it. It’s just a minor change.” 

“A minor change?” Ango’s voice is strained with stress, no doubt pulling out strands of his hair as they speak. “I have to deal with not one, but now two members of the mafia defecting. Do you know how much work this was to begin with?” 

The thing is—of course Dazai knows. He knows everything. The minute he found you in his kitchen, his stomach dropped with the uncertainty of the future. Going underground with another person was nothing short of a burden, at least on paper. But, he couldn't find it in himself to think of you like that. Like a burden. 

“We’ll figure it out, Ango. If you don’t, then we will.” 

A gritty sigh sounds from the other side of the phone call. “I’m putting a lot of faith in you, Dazai. Don’t screw this up.” 

===

“Made you lunch. Since, obviously, you’re not gonna do that for yourself any time soon.” 

A closed plastic container is thrown on the counter in front of Dazai. He looks at it, then up at you, eyebrow raised as if he doesn’t have a clue what this could be about. He’s not that stupid, though. You of all people would know that. 

“How nice of you! Too bad I’m not hungry.” His lip juts out in a poor imitation of a pout, and he looks ugly with it. So ugly. Ugly enough to make you feel the need to kiss him all over and then slap him. An incredulous huff escapes you. 

“I don’t care if you’re hungry. Eat. It has crab in it, see, your favorite.” 

“I thought my favorite was rice krispies?” 

You freeze. It hadn’t occurred to you that he might remember that, after all this time. You don’t dwell, because that’s the worst thing to do with Osamu Dazai—dwell. 

“Don’t act stupid. Just eat it. Even if it’s not the whole thing, at least some of it. It would do you some good.” Getting serious with Dazai is one of the most awkward, unbearable things you could ever do. He has a way of making you feel stupid for worrying about him, with all his roundabout jokes and skills of evasion built up over years. You’ve found that being straightforward is the best way to avoid all those blank moments of silence. 

His fingers curl around the plastic lid and pop it open. The container is still warm, having cooked all its contents just half an hour before showing up at Dazai’s apartment with conviction in your eyes. “Sure,” he says. “I’ll have some.” 

You bring out a duplicate container with a serving for you, and treat yourself to a juice box from his fridge. You try not to launch into a lecture at the sight of his barren pantry—that’s best done by Kunikida. The both of you eat in silence, sitting across from each other at Dazai’s dusty kitchen island. 

He only gets through a few bites before pushing the container away and complaining about how full he is. You know it’s not the truth, but it’s the mixed-up signals that his body sends him. It’s not that he’s full, but his persistent lack of appetite has caused a lot of troubles for him in the past and you don’t doubt that it’ll keep causing troubles in the future, too. 

“Let’s get you to bed, then,” you tell him, dragging him up from his chair despite his whining protests. “I won’t make you shower, but you should probably do that tomorrow, ‘cause your hair’s about to get all greasy and disgusting.”

“So crude.” 

“I do my best.” 

You let him change on his own, but not before picking out a nice soft set of matching pajamas from deep inside his closet. You grumble a little in annoyance. The set was a birthday gift you got for him a year ago and that asshole pushed it to the back of his wardrobe and never touched it again. What a brat. You throw a pair of fuzzy socks at him to boot. 

Once he’s changed into proper sleep clothes, you can tell that the exhaustion is starting to hit him. He sways a little on his feet and his blinks last for a little too long, as if he’s chasing sleep every time his eyes shut. With another begrudging sigh, you set him down on the floor of the bathroom and dollop his toothbrush with fruity kid’s toothpaste—because of course that’s the only toothpaste he owns—and brush his teeth for him. 

Dazai dozes off in the middle of it, and you can’t bring yourself to wake him up in the most annoying way possible. You try really, really hard to not think about how soft you’ve gotten. You’re an ex-mafia member, past coated with dark stains and entrails and death, all of those dark things. Your blood is just as black as Dazai’s, if not more. And yet, being a part of this stupid Detective Agency with this stupid man has melted you down into something parallel to good.

Don’t dwell. It’ll do you no good. 

You use a gentle grip with the toothbrush, ensuring that his delicate gums don’t tear with the force of the bristles. A warm feeling stirs in your chest. It feels like you’ve proven something, like you’ve proven to the world that your coal-stained hands can be gentle, too. You can kill and you can nurture. You tap Dazai awake with a little more care, now. 

“Rinse your mouth,” you tell him in a whisper. “Then you can sleep.” And after a pause, you add, “I promise,” because now you’re in the business of making promises to people. 

Dazai rinses his mouth, and you wipe off the remaining droplets of water from his face with a paper towel that you leave on the counter for your future self to throw out. You lace your fingers with his as you walk to his bed. Not that he needs any guiding. Of course he doesn’t. It’s just a little extra insurance, you think. 

“Stay with me,” he mumbles out the minute you lay him down on the bed. It’s a sentence, and not a question, because he’d rather die than ask you something so vulnerable. He’s doing it again—peeling himself back and baring himself raw for you. Your head swims and your vision blurs with either a migraine or with tears, you can’t tell. But your lips quirk up into a stupid smile and he sees it despite his half-lidded eyes, and he smiles back like the stupid dope that he is. 

“Yeah, of course. I’m right here, Osamu. Go to sleep.” 

And he does. Of course, not before he feels you cup the opposite side of his face and plant a warm, lingering kiss on the swell of his cheek just as he did for you weeks before. The faint laugh that he lets out before he falls asleep is enough to tell you that he’ll be making fun of you for it in the morning. For now, though, he’s soft and pliant and warm between your hands, and you sleep.

[moonstruckme]

Okay hey me again 😞 was hoping to send a request for more TASM!Peter x reader but one where he is comforting the reader bc they were stood up by their friends(cough cough me😬) like they were supposed to go out and she got all dolled up but they ditched her

This might be an oddly specific ask but I thought. Why not 😝 feel free to take the concept and RUN! I am all for writers doing whatever the hell they want

-🍁

Hi honey!! I'm so sorry that happened to you, I sincerely hope it wasn't anything like the scenario I chose for this story but if your friends did intentionally abandon you, that speaks far more poorly of them than you. I had that happen to me when I was younger, and now that I have more perspective it's easy to see how those girls were using that as an immature way to deal with their own insecurity. So once again, I hope you weren't in this sort of situation, but if you were please know that it's likely got nothing to do with you and you're amazing and lovely!! <3

Peter Parker x fem!reader ♡ 586 words

Peter’s hand is warm on your back, rubbing big circles with a steadying pressure. It’s comforting and undoing at the same time, because you’re stubbornly sure you wouldn’t have become so discomposed without his tender sympathy. Another tear slips down your cheek, splattering mascara-black on your thigh. 

“They’re idiots,” Peter says, not for the first time. His voice is weighed down by helpless distress. “They don’t know what they’re missing, sweetheart.” 

You inhale wetly. “I just don’t get how they thought I wouldn’t find out.” 

“My point exactly. They’re idiots.” 

You sniffle again, your tear ducts finally emptied, and you want to lean your head on Peter’s shoulder, but that feels too pathetic and needy right now. Come to think of it, it was probably your pathetic neediness that got you ditched tonight. 

It isn’t the first time this has happened. At least, not the first time you’ve made plans with your friends only for them to all become suddenly busy right before. It is the first time, though, that you’ve received a text meant for someone else, saying that your friend is on their way to dinner and will meet everyone else there. The natural conclusion is that this was just the first slip up; that every time you’ve gotten dressed up only to have your plans canceled, the rest of your friends are carrying out the night without you. 

Like he can feel the want, Peter stops rubbing your back to wrap his arm around your shoulders, encouraging you downwards until you’re leaning on him. He pets your hair, mindless of your makeup and snot getting on his shirt. 

“Can I say something about them that you might not like?” 

Trepidation creeps into your throat, but you nod. Peter would never say anything to make you feel worse than you do right now. 

“I’ve never thought they were very nice people,” he confesses quietly. “The way they talk about each other when some of them aren’t around, not to mention the way they talk about other people…I mean, you’re not like that.” His hand comes to rest on your shoulder, thumb stroking soothingly just above your collarbone. “I think that’s why they don’t always want to hang out with you, honey. You just don’t engage with that stuff. And I don’t mean that as a bad thing.”

You’re silent but for your quiet sniffling, unwilling to condemn your friends but not really finding fault in Peter’s assessment either. 

“They don’t deserve you,” he says softly. “I’m not just saying that because I love you, okay? I mean it. You’re nicer than them, and I think they know it. They don’t want to have to measure up.” A pause. “You hearing me, sweetheart?” 

“I’m hearing you,” you reply croakily. “Thanks, Pete.” 

He squeezes your shoulder. “Nothing to thank me for. Listen, I’m sure you’re not feeling it tonight, but if you still want to wear this outfit somewhere, I’d love to take you out tomorrow. You look so pretty, it’d be a shame if no one but me got to see you all dolled up.” 

You raise your head from his shoulder to give him a look, knowing there’s mascara tracked down your face and snot glossy under your nose. “You think? Should we go out right now?”

Peter knows what you’re about, but his smile is teeming with sweetness anyway. “Absolutely, if you wanna.” 

“You gonna show me off? Just like this?” 

“Grab your bag, sweet thing. Let’s show ‘em who runs this town.”

[wannaeatramyeon]

you absolutely killed my last ask (unlike gun with those poor people)!! to make up for the toxicity, i feel like sammy should be allowed to relax/be spoiled by his partner. not his regular 'the most expensive brands i can find', but sleep in, breakfast in bed, back rub, and diy face masks vibe. i don't think he's ever experienced it, and would love to see his confusion🌺

I am but a weak little person, especially after reading @lookismfanfics soft Samuel here. Sorry for the delay and thank you for this ask my sweet flower anon! There is pretty much ZERO toxicity here, and just a whole lotta love!

Samuel Seo x Reader: Spoiling Sammy

3 very fluffy, very indulgent scenes: back rub, bath, birthday

Samuel is surprisingly easy to fluster.

He's not used to tender touches or calm caresses. At least without giving anything in return.

The first time you lay your hands on his shoulders, giving him a massage and rebuffing his advances, he eyes you with suspicion. All the suspicion. Why are you touching him if you didn't expect any pleasure for yourself?

"Just relax," you instruct. And he tries. He really tries.

Little by little, tension leaves Samuel's body. This is... nice. Shoulders no longer stiff with stress, and a weight lifted. Before long, he is groaning as you continue to work out the knots and rub his back.

The noises slipping from his lips is what snaps him out of his daze. Why the hell is he moaning and feeling vulnerable from this simple gesture.

Hiding his blush, Samuel bats your hand away with some excuse of needing to make a call.

.

.

Workers is full of idiots and bullshitters, and no-one can ever convince Samuel otherwise.

He slams the front door, wishing that it was Eugene's head trapped there. Samuel could do his job a thousand times better, a million. How dare he-

"Sammy?" you poke your head out of the bathroom at his angry mutterings - another standard day in the office then, "Come here!"

Fuck, what a shit day.

He drops his jacket carelessly on the floor, and yanks his tie off as he makes his way towards you. Samuel just needs to decompress tonight, he doesn't have it in him to do anything else. Some peace and quiet. A bath, and a glass of-

"Whiskey?" you offer, handing him his favourite readily poured into a crystal tumbler.

Candles are lit, soft music drifts out, steam fills the air. The bathtub is full. And are those rose petals floating in the water?

"Is... is this for me?" he asks, and you nod enthusiastically.

You really didn't need to do this. You really shouldn't have done this. Now Samuel finds a lump in his throat and a tightness in his chest.

He thinks you might be his favourite person.

.

.

Samuel awakens to the faint whiff of burning, and commotion coming from somewhere in his penthouse.

The initial annoyance, as he plods barefoot into the kitchen, is soon replaced with bafflement at the utter chaos you have created. It's not even 10am on a Saturday. At what unholy hours did you have to get up to cause all this?!

On the counter sits the ugliest cake he has ever seen.

Lopsided and tilting. Uneven frosting. A frankly obscene amount of sprinkles. Some scribbles that could read 'Sammy' if he removes his glasses and squints.

He suspects it might even be poisoned.

The rest of the kitchen fares no better. It looks like a bomb had gone off.

You stand there, undeterred, like the cat who got the cream. Flour in your hair, a smile on your face.

"Happy birthday, Sammy!"

Oh.

He doesn't recall the last time he celebrated his birthday, nevermind ever having received a homemade cake.

Damn you and damn the way you have bulldozed your way into his heart.

Samuel finds himself completely head over heels.

[sminiac]

Congrats on 400 followers🎉🥳🥳. Could you do a scenario for Piwon and how they would break up with you/ their reaction to realizing that they don’t love you anymore?

💌 — Thank you sm sweets! <3 I loooove writing angst even though I don’t get reqs for it, BUT YES. Was lowkey excited to pull up my feels playlist for this :b

⋆ Y. Keeho

So, so quiet, and diluted. He’s very naive when it comes to loving someone so in the first flicker of insecurity he’s immediately calling it quits in fear of dragging something out that’ll possibly never lead to anything deeper, or getting too attached to a point where it’s unnecessarily difficult and painful.

Curls in on himself more and more in the days leading up to him finally talking to you and when he does it, it’s not the most surprising thing. Hearing him abruptly cut off from his words and backing away from his train of thought because the tears find home in his throat so easily. Seeing him like this is rare, you’re so used to the talking being passed off to one another so seamlessly but he just continues struggling through his sentences no matter how many deep breaths and attempts to compose himself he takes. He really tries to communicate with you, lay everything out, plain and simple, but unfortunately he just can’t, his emotions get the best of him which both you and him know is completely unlike him.

He’s able to explain everything to you at a later date, which is just salt in a fresh wound, but he knows he can’t go on living like nothing that serious happened, especially after leaving you in the dark. Asks if you can meet up for coffee or call or something, is willing to write a handwritten letter if that’s what it takes to get you to hear him out. His reasonings for seeing you again are partly in best interest of himself, but he likes to think it gives you some sense of closure too, or at least a solid placement on your feelings towards him. The conversation goes quite smoothly compared to his first attempt, he even finds himself comparing the two of you now to when you first got together, it’s bittersweet, but he still cares for you so he doesn’t force it away. Holds your hand over the table while reminiscing, sharing old funny stories before parting ways.

Remainder of members under the cut!

⋆ C. Taeyang

Doesn’t realize nor feel the gravity of the circumstances that follow his decision to leave you. In fact, in the beginning he plays with the idea as it sparks to life, figures that the cons probably far outweigh the pros anyways, so why is he really playing along with you? Hes just so busy and caught up in the limelight that he realistically can’t even begin to remember all the details, the good points in your relationship, he’s far too fast to make a concrete resolution for his own absentmindedness, and inevitably it comes back to bite him in the ass.

Very straightforward, although there’s a tenderness to his disposition the more he lets the words flow. The more he talks the more he realizes how absurd this all sounds, and he’s quick to point out any of his faults and ignorance right in front of you. The conversation does nothing but solidify his point, but it also helps him understand just how gracious you are to him, how you’ve always been, and that keeps him on track because he knows that if you were to stay that you wouldn’t be able to find that growth if your own. Sets you free in a way, even if that sounds cringy and silly, he just doesn’t want to keep you to himself- nailed to the ground when you have so much ahead of you in your life, and the life of an idol wasn’t always so easy or kind to exclusivity.

Towards the end he recalls all of the milestones he’s hit with you by his side, behind the camera, always his number 1, reminds you that if you weren’t here he probably wouldn’t have made it this far. He literally counts his blessings whilst calling himself an idiot for not realizing it sooner.

⋆ C. Jiung

The type of ex you can be friends with and be completely platonic with after breaking up let me just say, even if there’s lingering feelings he’s never acting on it or allowing you to either. He’s very quick and precise, as soon as he’s sure, even confident in telling you he’s just not quite in love with you like that anymore then he’s calling you up, telling you to come over. Jiung’s just a very comforting and easy going individual, there’s obviously going to be a palpable sense of sadness in the air but he tries to keep things light instead of saying things to further fuel the tears- it’s kind of silly though, because no matter what he’d unintentionally do just that.

Comes right out and tells you, very straightforward at first,, almost a little too blunt, but he treats the wound with a gentle dressing, reminds you that he does love you, that it’s been there for days and days, that he’s walked with it, ate with it, sang with it, that his love for you won’t just disappear in the matter of seconds because of a change of labels.

Tells you that he understands if distance is what you want, that he won’t overstep or prod if that’s not what you’re comfortable with, so dedicated that he’d make sure any mutual friends don’t speak of him to you if the topic is much too sore to touch on. But! If your boundaries don’t come with a secure extent then he’ll merely act as a friend, not one you’d go to for every rant or life experience, but one that’s there whenever you need him to be. He’d still reach out to congratulate you on every achievement, milestone, every significant date too with a fitting paragraph in thorough detail about whatever it is he’s messaging you abou :,)

⋆ H. Intak

Terribly bitter. Becomes so self deprecating and the jabs at himself are sharp, like- would actually make himself miserable about losing feelings for you. Tries to ignore it, initially he doesn’t even want to acknowledge it, but the longer he lets it sit and fester the more it mercilessly eats away at him. Takes the time to sit and talk with Keeho, sorting his thoughts and tackling the much tougher questions he couldn’t bring himself to face alone, I think he wouldn’t come to the conclusion of breaking up with you himself, it would definitely have to come from someone. The situation doesn’t feel that weighty, or lucid until someone like Keeho is telling him that it’s the only option he has.

“I’m sorry” is said quite a lot when he has the time alone with you, his eyes already bloodshot around the edges and his lips swollen. The time passes by fairly quick in retrospect, but in the moment it feels like it just drags and drags.

Intak genuinely can’t bring himself to touch you or get so close to because he knows that’s when the tears will start again and there will absolutely be no consoling him to get them to stop. Maybe you’ll think of him as being one for dramatics, but he’s just such a lover that it’s crushing to even reach this point that he’s absolutely torn on your behalf. Only makes contact with you for the last time when you’re saying your last goodbyes, your personal belongings back in your care and his shoved into a corner in his room because he physically can’t take them out and sort through it. The hug only lasts for so long before he’s letting you go, choking out a goodbye with a forced smile. He just hopes you can’t see the tears building against his lower lid.

⋆ H. Shota

Soul knows you probably wouldn’t understand, but he tries to wait it out, the feeling of doubt every time he questions himself about loving you. He realized as the days past he grew more and more uncaring about what you were doing, who you were with, he found himself eager to end calls and to be left alone, purposely ignoring any questions his members had about how you were, when they’d see you again.

As soon as he stopped questioning why you didn’t text him or call, how he wasn’t repulsed by the thought of you loving someone else the way you love him, that it was time he broke things off. He deals with his emotions quite simply, chronologically, uses his brain more than his heart because then things are strategical and easy, but things weren’t quite as painless as he expected when finally confessing to you that he wanted to break up.

He knows the tears will come, the resentment, he hates the thought of you ever thinking about him with only a sour taste in your mouth and a shell of his current self kept frozen in your memory, he wants you to know the future him, the bad and the good, but it’s an incredibly selfish thing to ask of you, to stay even if he no longer loves you romantically, it leads to his emotions doubling in size, making his own tears unceasing as he holds you, scared that once he lets go you’ll disappear forever, completely. He goes through with it of course, despite his fears and insurmountable worry, he knows better than to ask you to stay.

⋆ K. Jongseob

Seob Is fairly well acquainted with the ‘you’re so mature for your age’ approach when being complimented on his sterling dedication and drive that keeps him moving forward in the music industry, because, well duh? But the good aspect of knowing how he handles early adulthood gets a little too into his head, therefore he lacks the emotional intelligence to navigate through his feelings when it comes to a point where he’s questioning himself and your relationship because he just doesn’t have the time at his disposal to face it.

He tries to work on himself at first, his doubt, the lack of security you have in place of his side— like a sample track he’s not confident or content with, he tries and tries to make it better, and that’s inevitably the downfall of his efforts, it’s the fact he has to try to keep loving you to begin with.

He’d like to think that he redeems himself by being an open book with you when he sits you down, pouring out all of his bottled thoughts and feeling, but the crushing truth does nothing but keep your aversion to his lack of self understanding stagnant. He’s soft when telling you that the two of you should break up, gentle, because he can’t bring himself to fathom the betrayal you probably feel now knowing how he’s felt under the layers of his forced affection and uninterested feelings.

[cantwritethetword]

Donna, Human, Yes

Fic Descript: During an argument, Donna discovers that the doctor has a rather human weakness. When he insists he's not ticklish, she has to prove him wrong.

~A/N  - I RETURN FROM THE DEADDDDDDDDDD

Yes writers blocked kicked my ASS last year (aside from squealing santa, i feel like i did ok with that one hehe) but I'm back with this lil fic.

I watched the Doctor Who specials FINALLY and I cried so many times omfg it was so good to see David Tennant and Catherine Tate back together again being lil chaotic besties through all of time and space, so of course I had to write something for it !!!!

And you are bearing witness to the magic of my adhd meds in action !!! I've been so productive in the last hour it's great !!! (EDIT: didn't write this in an hour, just to be clear. took me a little while but ADHD MEDS WORKED FOR BOTH TIMES YAY)

Just something cute and fluffy af ^^ love you all <3

- Enoy! ~

Tag List: @carrie-tate

Masterpost Link 

The bond between Donna and The Doctor was certainly one for the ages.

Human words couldn't do justice to the type of bond they had, at least that's what The Doctor claimed in his newer, more openly emotional regeneration. Their love was too strong for just the term of friendship, too close for anything romantically implied, too adoring to be siblings. Even the term soulmates had a particularly selective connotation to it that left a bad taste in The Doctor's mouth.

Nevertheless, it was clear they could hardly live without the other. There was enough love between them to power galaxies, and knowing their history neither would be surprised if it had.

And it was this closeness, this fierce tenderness, that led to discussions such as this. Displays of deep affection half-heartedly disguised behind harsh tones and disgruntled gestures.

"You may be a high and mighty Time Lord, but you're still an idiot." Donna huffed, as the TARDIS finally settled after takeoff.

The Doctor scoffed. "I'll try not to take that to heart, and I thought that escape went quite well!"

"YOU THOUGHT-" Donna stopped herself, breathing deeply to try and contain her shit that was threatening to lose itself. "The only reason we even STARTED to escape was because I PUSHED YOU TO THE EXIT!"

"Well yeahhhh..." The Doctor rolled his head, letting his eyes drift away from his companion's. "But-."

"But NOTHING." Donna interjected. "It's the same thing every time! You start running your mouth and saving the day, and that's wonderful, but you don't know when to stop!"

"Donna I-"

"Let me finish." She snapped, raising a pointed finger towards him and stepping closer.

The Doctor held his hands up in front of him with a gentle nod of the head.

"You drag yourself through hell, running and ranting and... and sonic-ing!"

A small snicker escaped The Doctor, but he straightened his face almost instantly after when her angry look didn't waver.

"You can't control yourself!"

He didn't dare argue.

"I always have to pull. your. arse. out.!" She accentuated each of the last words with a corresponding poke to The Doctor's torso.

And while she expected the pokes to help get her point across, she definitely was not expecting the almost childish giggle that spilled out of his mouth. Or the awkward jerk his body made to cover the ribs she had prodded.

But Donna wasn't stupid. She didn't waste any time in a state of surprise, no she jumped straight to (correct) conclusions.

"Oh no way." She grinned, creeping closer to the now incredibly flustered Time Lord.

"Now Donna," The Doctor began, his mouth twitching upwards in a nervous smile of self-betrayal. "You don't know what this is."

Donna gave a singular breathy chuckle. "Nice try sunshine, but you're not yapping your way out of this one."

"There are countless reasons why... why I would... flinch away from you like that!" He continued rambling.

"I know ticklish when I see it sweetheart." She smiled sweetly, though there was nothing sweet about the predatory glint in her eyes.

"What?!" The Doctor tensed, almost frozen in place at the mention of the word. Though quickly forced himself back into talking his way out of the situation in a faux-calm tone. "Uh, Doctor, Time Lord, no."

She smirked, stepping closer to him.

"Donna," she paused, reveling in just how much she was getting to him. "Human," she paused again, less than a few feet away from him. "Yes."

And then she lunged.

Her hands met his sides and The Doctor curled inwards, his arms tangling themselves in a fruitless effort to push her away.

For a moment, there was nothing but the sounds of Donna's fingertips clawing against the fabric of The Doctor's shirt, before he finally cracked.

Bubbly giggles spluttered out of The Doctor's chest as he folded forwards, allowing Donna to slip behind him and trap him in a bear hug. His knees slowly buckled, and (with no chance at keeping someone his height upright by herself), Donna followed his squirming body to the floor.

"Dohohohonnahaha!" He squeaked between bouts of helpless laughter, but her name was barely comprehensible amongst the childish noises she tickled out of him. "Ihihihi-!... wahahai-!... stahahaha-!..."

She chuckled, rolling her eyes as her hands climbed up into his armpits. "What was that?"

He couldn't reply with anything other than a squeal, writhing for a few seconds before his body finally submitted to the playful torture. He tried to splutter a few words out, but nothing could make its way through the torrent of giggles currently occupying his voice box. THe man had gone practically limp, aside from his hands which were still seized up like a tyrannosaurus rex.

"I never thought I'd see the day..." Donna shook her head in amusement as she skittered her fingernails around his collarbones. "That anyone would render you speechless."

"DOHOHOHON-! WAHAHAI-! IHIHIHI-!"

She laughed again. "Keep trying space man."

"IHIHIHI-! CAHAHAHA-!" He chortled, his hands suddenly free enough to slap themselves to his cheeks to cover his embarrassment.

"Whaaaat~?" She teased, rapidly poking him in one side while squeezing the other.

"IT TIHIHICKLES!" He somehow blurted out, before breaking into cackles as Donna transitioned to dual-hand squeezing. "DONNA PLEHEHEASE!"

It was Donna's turn to cackle, though hers was much shorter and much more controlled of course. "It tickles, does it? I had no idea."

Aside from the odd jolt when Donna hit a particularly sensitive spot, The Doctor had gone practically limp. All that laughter had fully sapped his energy, and he was leaning his back against Donna's chest to keep himself upright.

Taking her chance, Donna once again decided to change her position to further destroy the man. Sliding back from under him (taking care he wouldn't fall back and whack his head on the TARDIS floor - she wasn't that cruel), Donna pulled his arms from covering his face and stretched them above his head.

In his state of ticklish delirium, The Doctor didn't quite notice what was happening. Assuming she had finally taken pity on him, he focused on catching his breath with a stupid grin still stuck to his face.

That was until the moment her shins pinned his arms to the floor.

He locked eyes with her, now fully aware of just how screwed he was. With Donna kneeling above him, she had full access to the armpits she had assaulted with ticklish claws just moments ago.

"Nononono Donna you can't!" He begged, legs kicking wildly with every word. "You'll kill me!"

She shrugged, "You'll regenerate." before putting her typing skills to good use and pitter-pattering her fingertips against his underarms.

The Doctor clamped his mouth closed, thrashing his head to one side with his eyes screwed shut in a soon-to-be vain attempt to not react to the unbearable sensations radiating through his body. But even a mighty Time Lord could only hold out for so long.

After less than ten seconds (which The Doctor would later argue was a rather impressive length of time), he crumbled. The childish, high-pitched giggles returned and he was once again a mess beneath Donna's touch.

"Oh!" Donna gasped, slowing her fingers in response to the Doctor's slightly wheezy breathing. "And if you do regenerate, I'll be the first person ever to tickle two Time Lords!"

Aside from the occasional titter, The Doctor could finally gain control over himself again. He gulped mouthfuls of air as Donna climbed off his arms, and slowly sat up next to her.

"Not-" He panted, still more than a little out of breath.

Donna chuckled. "Take your time."

"Not tw-" His huffing interrupted again. "Not two."

She gave him a quizzical look.

"Even if I-... regenerate... I'm still the same... singular Time Lord." He corrected. "You've only tickled the one, and to be honest it happened a lot back on Gallifrey so you're not particularly sp-"

She barked a singular laugh, cutting him off. "God, you really don't know when to shut up."

His confusion turned to giggly panic when Donna pushed him back to the floor again and sat on top of his hips. "Nononono Donna not agAIN-!"

[lostinwildflowers]

Dragon Island

Eijiro Kirishima x Reader

Summary: Kirishima is nothing but loving toward his dragon. When she disappears with no trace, he panics. When set out on a voyage to find her, he finds something he wasn't quite expecting.

Word Count: 4.7K

Warnings: strangers to lovers, also kind of idiots and enemies to lovers, fluff, very slight angst at the end, and slightly more mature language, a little *tiny* but spicy but still SFW :3

A/N: Wow, wow, wow, it has been a hot second. I have been so insanely busy with work that I am completely exhausted by the time I get home. Please enjoy this Kiri fic. -Birch<3

Useful Info:

Part i. Romantic Flight- Katsuki Bakugou x Reader

Nothing is stronger than the bond between a dragon and its trainer. The relationship is strong as the metal forges that build their armor, it's as tough as the gnarled skin of the dragon. It even is as tender as the love between a married couple, soft and kind.

This rings especially true for Kirishima, who loves his Rumblehorn, Honey, with all of his heart. She is a remarkable dragon; obedient, protective, and most importantly, loyal.

You see, Kirishima raised Honey when he found her egg abandoned in the mountains of his home. There was no clutch of other eggs, no mother dragon in sight. There was no indication of a home for the egg, so he took it to his village to raise on his own.

Kirishima spent countless hours incubating the egg, monitoring its temperature and position until it hatched. That is when Honey joined the world.

Honey, once hatched, was identified as a Rumblehorn, a medium-sized tracker dragon. Known to be tough skinned and thick-skulled, Kirishima knew this little dragon was going to be his entire future.

That's why it stung so much when she disappeared into thin air.

The roar of the ocean was loud in Kirishima's ears, the dark, steely blue waters slapping against the keel of the ship. It was a rhythmic crash and pull, one that seemed to tug him deeper and deeper into his mind of worries.

The crew of men was working together on the ship, following the maps and comparing them to familiar landmarks. And the path of the dragons.

The longboat was one Kirishima had been in many times as a young boy, but now he found it dreadful and confined. He felt trapped by its mossy walls and soggy floorboards, wishing at any moment he could step onto dry land.

A cry from the darkened sky above crackles the air, and the sight of fire breaking through the blackness of the night makes Kirishima's throat tighten. Yet a moment later, it's silent again, or at least back to the sound of waves crashing.

After the brief interruption from whatever dragon was in the sky, Kirishima attempts at busying himself, sharpening his blade, sorting through his rations- anything to help him stop fretting over the disappearance of Honey.

At least, he tells himself, At least it wasn't just Honey. That Nadder from the family up on the hill has been missing, and even Mrs. Oonlouck's Grockle flew off.

So, the hours on the ship slowly ticked by. A night full of dangerous waters and old shipwrecks merged into a light blue dawn full of hope and prayers.

And, Dragon Island.

The island was beautiful, to say the least. Soft, white sand edged the beaches, with nothing but clear waters washing the shoreline clean.

The island was mountainous, with a high peak in the far-off distance carving into the sky, while smaller trees and bushes coated the rest of the land. Kirishima could see the small, colorful specks of flowers and wild grasses where the sand faded into the dirt.

And that's where the dragons were.

Many distinct dragon species dotted the skies and the ground as the longboat came ashore; Gronckles, Deadly Nadders, Hideous Zipplebacks, and even the occasional Monstrous Nightmare.

Some of the dragons were fishing in the clear waters, rendering themselves full of fat fish. Others were scavengers, hunting down deer and elk further inland. And those that were full sat basking in the sun, soaking in the heat of the day from the warm rocks they laid on.

Crimson-colored eyes raked the sky, the water, and the land, but there was no sight of the green-toned Rumblehorn anywhere. Kirishima tried to keep his hopes up as the men prepared the ship for docking, but he couldn't help the feeling of his stomach sinking at no sight of Honey.

He tried to push off the nervousness and help his mates settle the ropes and unload the supplies before they set up camp. It was no easy task, skirting around the dragons and trying to find an unoccupied and central location where no one would burst into flames, but after a while, they found the perfect spot to set up.

They had to hike a good distance inland, as many dragons liked to nest on the beach, but they eventually found a quiet field with the cover of some tall pines as protection. As brave as the viking men were, there was always a minor fear of getting blasted by an angry Thunderdrum or Scauldron on the beach.

So the men set up tents and a main fire to cook their dinners and soon set off on their own paths to find the missing dragons.

Every dragon roar that hissed through the air made Kirishima's heart flutter, but there was still no sight or sound of his beloved Rumblehorn.

He recalled that when he found Honey, he was deep in the mountains, so he would set off for the tall peak that signified Dragon Island first thing the following morning.

The next morning, Kirishima gathered the most he could in his pack and started his hike deep into the heart of the island. Alone.

Many of the other men were missing their dragons too, but they figured that based on their dragons' personalities and species, they would be lower in altitude, more likely to be by the beach or lower forests.

So, the redhead picked his way through the underbrush on the outskirts of the camp, his heart pounding in his chest. He traveled as carefully and efficiently as he could while he hiked, the small pack on his back carrying a canister of water and a couple snacks, as the climb wasn't easy.

Up and up he climbed, the ground changing from lush, brown soil to rocky outcroppings, with loose stones underfoot. The stone was smooth under his boots, and Kirishima stumbled a few times and had to slow his pace down so as to not hurt himself.

Why am I doing this? Kirishima thought to himself as he rounded a bend leading to a flat clearing near the top of the peak. There was little grass, but he could see the mouth of a cave up ahead.

He was tired and sweaty, a thin sheen of sweat coating his entire body and dripping down his forehead. The sun was almost setting at this point, and Kirishima knew he wasn't going to make it back to camp tonight.

Instead of dwelling on the fact that he'd miss dinner, Kirishima focused his attention on the cave he saw in the distance up ahead.

Well, this could be it, he wonders as he makes his way over to the inlet. It was dark in the mouth of the cave, the sun's orange and pink rays only lighting up the very edge of the cave, but nothing deeper inside.

He slowly cranes his neck into the darkness, but the cavern was damp and quiet. When he doesn't see anything initially, a crestfallen sigh breaks past his lips as his crimson eyes trail to the ground.

Nothing.

But then, an ear-splitting roar sounds out, and Kirishima whips around just in time to see a flash of green armored skin, and he lunges into the bushes just outside of the cave as the scaled creature dives into the cave.

His heart racing in his chest, Kirishima peaks out of the bushes to try to see what just dove past him, but he couldn't make out a figure. It's silent, so he peaks around the edge of the cave entrance, where he had just been standing, to lock onto the unmistakable golden glow of a dragon's eyes.

Kirishima starts, "What the-", but is interrupted when the dragon turns to face him head-on, and a soft "Wait," falls from his parted mouth.

The redhead squints, trying to dig through his memory, and takes a hesitant step closer to the dragon. He slowly offers his hand, the tips of his fingers shaking ever so slightly, and lets his eyes flutter closed before standing perfectly still.

A beat passes. And then another one. And just as he thinks about opening his eyes to see if the dragon is still there, the smooth skin of a dragon's horn brushes against his hand.

A shaky breath falls from his lips as he feels the warm breath of the dragon puff against his face. Kirishima's crimson eyes gradually slide open, only to be met with the face of the dragon he so desperately missed.

"Honey!" he immediately calls out, lunging excitedly into the chest of the large green Rumblehorn. His muscular arms wrap around the neck of his beloved dragon, and he can feel Honey chitter underneath him in happiness, her eyes soft as she nuzzles at his back.

Kirishima does his best to keep his emotions under control, but he can't stop a stray tear or two from sliding down his cheeks. However, he rapidly pulls back from the hug when he hears a small cry from deeper into the cave.

He glances at Honey in worry and asks, "Did you hear that, girl? Sounds like someone's in trouble."

He untangles his body from around the large dragon, and picks his way around to her tail. Moving cautiously and with his hand on a knife in his belt, he plunges into the darkness of the cave.

It's dark for a minute, and then fresh air hits his cheeks, and it opens up into a wider den. The gentle cast of an orange glow can be seen dancing on the walls of the cave, but his attention is soon drawn away from that.

And it is pulled to the figure of a woman.

The woman was crouched over what he quickly identified as a baby dragon, her hair color warmed by the small fires in the edges of the den.

"Hold still, you little rascal," you mutter as you try to wrestle the baby Rumblehorn. He was attempting to slide out of your grasp and toward Honey, who had appeared from the cave tunnel.

Kirishima stood silently next to his dragon, almost blending in with the wall as he watched his, his hand relaxing from his knife as he watched you try to help the baby dragon.

You didn't notice the redhead as you called out to Honey, whose footsteps you heard, "Mama Dragon, you're back! This little one had a crack in his tooth and wouldn't let me look at-"

Your words trail off as you catch sight of the tall man standing next to Honey, and you instinctively reach for your blade strapped to your back, pushing the baby dragon behind you. A war cry falls from your lips as you draw your blade and you dash toward him, sword swinging straight toward Kirishima's head.

He's fast though, and reads the attack from across the room, easily ducking out of the way. Working on instinct, he grabs one of your arms, and folds it behind your back, pulling the blade out of the hand.

Since he was close to the wall when you attacked, he uses it to his advantage, pressing you into the cave wall with his hips and knee.

Pain blooms in your chest as the air left your lungs, your collarbones cracking against the hard stone. You can feel his larger frame and muscular chest push against your back, and you hiss in frustration at his simple move.

Kirishima takes his free hand and reaches up to pull the blade from your hand that was still grasping at your sword. In a swift motion, he throws it a couple of feet away, far enough away that you won't get it, but not too close to the dragons to be a threat.

He keeps you pressed against the wall like this, and you tried to struggle and get free, but it was no use.

"Who are you, and what are you doing with my dragon?"

Kirishima could feel you stiff under his touch at the harshness of his words, yet he remained quiet in wait for an answer. When you don't say anything, he sighs and repeats, "What are you doing with my dragon? She disappeared into thin air a little while ago, and now here she is."

You shift ever so slightly in grasp, a disgruntled look on your face as your cheek laid flat against the cool, damp wall of the cave. A quiet gasp falls from your lips as you back pops from the pressure he's applying with his hips and knee, and you can feel him loosen his grip ever so slightly.

Kirishima sighs again and reiterates, "Look, I don't want to hurt you or fight. I just want to take Honey home?"

"...You call Mama Dragon Honey? Wow, I can't imagine how she puts up with that," is what you spit out. Kirishima blinks in hurt at the harshness to your words, but a look of confusion passes over his features, not that you could tell.

"Ma- Mama Dragon?" he stutters, his grip completely relaxing and letting you free. He takes a step back, giving you space as his hands run over his face.

You groan in relief and shake out your arms before you grumble, "Yeah, Mama Dragon, didn't you know she was pregnant and carrying eggs?"

Kirishima's jaw drops, "HONEY WAS PREGNANT AND SHE LEFT ME?!" You sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose in frustration at this stranger and you reply, "Yes. Sometimes it's hard to tell when a Rumblehorn is going to lay eggs because they are already built so wide."

You walk around Kirishima to your fallen sword, reaching down to pick it up from the stone. Kirishima's hand instantly falls to the knife on his belt, but he doesn't move as he watches you pat Honey on the chin before walking back over to the baby you were tending to.

"So... how many babies has Honey had then?" Kirishima asks quietly, walking over to Honey's side and gently rubbing at her face. His crimson gaze watches your every movement, waiting for any sign of hostility, but he didn't see any.

You turn back toward him, the baby you were working on in your arms. There is surprise lacing your features, and you shrug and say, "She laid 4 eggs, so now she has four babies. 3 females, 1 male."

Kirishima just nods, processing the new information. He points to the one you are holding and questions, "Which one is that?" You smile fondly down at the newborn dragon and say, "I call him Boulder, he's the only boy from the clutch, and he already thinks he's the strongest."

The little red-toned Rumblehorn just yawns in your arms, curling up for a nap. You just giggle down at him, walking over to the large wood-built nest near one of the fires.

Kirishima watches you set him gently down on the dried grasses, and he suddenly notices the other three dragon newborns curled up, asleep. He gazes in awe, and can't stop his feet as he walks over to stand next to you.

He is completely starstruck by the colors of their scales, and kind expressions on their faces as they cuddle up together. His mouth falls open before he stammers out, "I- I am so sorry for fighting you like that. All this time Honey's been away, and you've been taking care of her?"

You turn to face him, and you have to look up to catch the corner of his red gaze, but you nod in response. "Yes, I have been watching over Honey. This den isn't usually occupied because it's so far from the water, but I knew a special dragon must have chosen this den for a reason."

Your (colored) gaze flicks over to Honey, and with a gentle smile, you continue, "She is the first Rumblehorn I've seen in a few years. You are very lucky to have such a strong dragon at your side, Sir...?"

Kirishima just looks down at you, his eyes glazed over. In the time of your fight, and his whole world being flipped upside down at the factor his dragon left him to become a mother, he didn't realize how beautiful you were.

Your (colored) hair was pulled back into a couple of intricate braids that cascaded down behind your neck, a few stray pieces lingering to frame your face. There was a firmness to your eye that let him know your guard was still up, but he could see the kindness written on your features.

"Hello?" you repeat, "What can I call you?" Kirishima shakes his head back and forth for a moment, a warmth blooming on his cheeks as he chuckles and offers you his arm as he replies, "Sorry, this is all a lot to take in. Please, call me Kirishima."

You nod and reply, "Nice to meet you, Kirishima. Honey is an excellent mother and a very gentle dragon. I can't imagine how much training it has taken for her to be as good as she is."

The tall man shifts on his feet and glances over at Honey, who had made her way over to the other side of the nest and laid down. She had closed her eyes to rest as well, it seemed.

"To be honest, I really didn't do that much to train her," Kirishima started, "From the moment she hatched out when I was a boy, she always was the sweetest dragon. It's sort of how she got her name."

You just giggle at that, and Kirishima immediately finds your (colored) eyes, genuine happiness coating your features. Your giggling persists for a moment before you wave at him, "It's nothing, it's nothing, I swear. That's just a funny origin, that's all."

Kirishima just tuts and gestures toward you, "Well then, miss, what name can I call you? Especially if you think Honey's name is so ridiculous."

You get slightly shy at that moment, glancing down at your boots as if they were the most interesting thing at that moment. You shrug and mumble, "I'm just the caretaker for the dragons on this island, that is all."

Kirishima steps closer to you and insists, "Well, you must go by something," he feels butterflies bloom in his belly but he gushes, "You have a gorgeous face, I can only assume your name is equally as stunning."

You freeze at his words, and you swallow thickly as heat spreads from your cheeks to your ears, and down your neck. Kirishima seems to understand the weight of his words, and he shuffles back in embarrassment and stutters, "I- I, I only mean-"

"Y/n," you cut him off with a smile, glancing up at his obviously flustered appearance, "You can call me Y/n L/n of Dragon Island."

He dips his head in acknowledgment and replies, "Seems as though I was right... Miss Y/n." He tests your name out like it's delicate, and yet he revels in the way your name rolls off of his tongue.

It's silent for a moment before you point to the back of the cave, even further into the den, "Would you like to sit with me? I can explain more of what I do and know."

Kirishima opens his hand and points to the narrow opening and replies, "Lead the way, milady."

You and Kirishima talk through the night, conversations of Dragon Island, breeding season, and travels filling the late-night air. You told him of your place on the island; helping dragons that were sick or injured, tending to their young, and the general welfare of the sacred breeding place.

Kirishima, in turn, told you of his travels across the seas, all of the dragons he's encountered, and the people of his home. The conversation flowed so easily that it was hard to remember that the two of you had only met a few hours prior.

It had been silent between the two of you for a while, comfortable and peaceful.

"You should come to my homeland sometime," Kirishima murmurs quietly, his eyes gazing deep into the embers burning in front of the two of you.

You are quiet for a moment, and then you shake your head, "I couldn't. There is so much for me to do here year-round, and there are always dragons that need my help. I cannot leave."

Kirishima nods but doesn't say anything, but sits there and crosses his arms across his chest. Your (colored) gaze snaps over to him, gauging the contemplating look on his face.

He can feel the heat of your gaze on him, and a soft smirk rests on his lips as he then states, "Then I'll just have to come visit you then, right? So we can catch up and talk about Boulder, Honey, and the other babies?"

You mirror his smile and reply, "That would be lovely, Kirishima." He sighs and pokes at the fire with his boot before he asks, "Do you ever get lonely here? I mean you have the dragons, but I bet you hardly ever see anyone."

You feel the weight of his question more than he realizes. Yes, it does get lonely. Yes, I do crave connection and human attention. But my lifestyle cannot afford that.

All you can do is nod and whisper, "I do get lonely, Kirishima. More than you could ever know." The redhead's gaze is on you this time, your own eyes latched onto the dying flames of the fire.

He shifts from his wooden seat to stand next to your own, offering you his hand. You look up at him, vulnerable in a way you never would imagine with a stranger, yet he made you feel so comfortable.

"I get lonely too, Y/n. You don't deserve to be alone all the time. Please consider joining my village, or even coming to visit. The invitation will always be open for you," he whispers back.

He leans down slowly, placing a soft peck to the top of your head before retreating back into the main den where Honey and the babies were sleeping.

"W-wait!" you call out after him, your cheeks burning and your mind racing. He stops in the doorway and looks over his shoulder back at you, waiting.

"D- do you really mean that?" you manage to choke out. He gives you another gentle smile and states, "Never been more sure in my life." And he walks down the hall as the dawn light starts to flood into the den.

The trek back down to the ship seemed to come quicker than the hike up the mountain. Maybe it was because of Kirishima riding down on Honey's back, or the way he had to chase Boulder and the dragon babies as they rolled down the grassy hills.

You bid him farewell at the mouth of the den, promising that you would see each other again. Neither of you discussed the kiss on your forehead, but there was tension in the air as his figure disappeared in the direction of the ocean.

You could feel your heart splintering at the thought of him leaving. You knew you didn't truly know him, but you could tell your body felt like it knew him, that your souls were somehow akin.

You didn't know what to do, so you let him walk away.

But then you heard a soft cry from the back of the cave, toward the edge of the nest you had helped Honey build. And there, sitting in the depths of the nest, was a tiny, and freshly hatched Rumblehorn baby,

You dug through the straw the find the remnants of the shell, and you gasp in disbelief that you somehow missed an egg that Honey laid.

Crap, crap, crap, you thought to yourself as you looked at the newborn in front of you. This little fellow really needs his mother, but I bet Kirishima and his mates have probably loaded up and left at this point. What do I do?

Another glance down at the newborn told you everything you needed to know. You needed to get to the water before their ship sailed off.

So you wrapped the baby in a spare shirt that you had, tucked him under your arm, and ran as fast as you could in the direction you knew Kirishima set off in.

Your lungs burned for air as you ran, your feet sliding on loose shale, your calves aching as you pushed your body to its limit. You could feel your arms growing weaker from the weight of the newborn, but you pushed yourself on, determined to find Kirishima before he left.

You ducked under low-hanging limbs and jumped over dense brush, swerving and dodging everything in your path. C'mon Kirishima, you think, Please wait. I know you don't want to leave yet, so please wait!

It seems like hours as you rush down the mountain, time somehow flying by and slowing down at the same time. You swore your heart was about to explode in your chest, but you were so close to the shoreline, you couldn't give up now.

But by the time you get to the white, sandy beaches, you can see the viking's longboat sailing into the horizon, and you can't stop the sob that rips itself from your throat. Your body crumples to the ground in sheer exhaustion, and you bring the small dragon into your arms to hug closely.

"I- I'm so sorry, little one," you hiccup out, tears streaming down your face as you pulled back to look at the little green Rumblehorn baby, "I couldn't get you back to your family in time."

It just peers up at you, curiosity and innocence emanating from it's sweet face. This only makes you cry harder, and you clutch the little dragon back to your chest.

You sit there in the sand for a few moments, blinking through the tears and emotion as you watch the ship float off into the distance.

That is, until you feel warm pressure on your shoulders, and when you look up, a tall figure is blocking out the morning rays of the sun.

"You're missing me already? I don't think gorgeous women like you should cry, Y/n," comes the voice.

A loud sob pulls past your lips, and you scramble up to crush Kirishima in a hug with one arm. You cradle the baby in the other, careful to not hurt him.

The tall redhead just chuckles and steps back at the force of your hug, but wraps his arms around you closely, holding you tight, "I've gotcha... I've gotcha," he whispers as you settle down.

You pull back a minute later, wiping the tears from your eyes, you punch him in the shoulder and yell, "You forgot something, dammit!"

Kirishima yelps in pain and shies away from you as you hold out the small baby Rumblehorn, and awe takes over his face as he cups the delicate dragon in his large hands.

"I didn't know there was another one," he mumbles as he glances back up at you, "Thank you." You roll your eyes and mutter, "That wasn't the thing you forgot, dummy."

In one swift movement, you grab the front of his shirt, pulling him down to meet your lips. Your mouth collides with his own a second later, and he can't help but let out a groan at the taste of tears on his tongue.

The kiss is short but sweet, and it's enough to send both of your minds into overdrive. You both pull back at the same time, staring blankly in shock at each other.

The moment is interrupted when Honey chuffs, nudging Kirishima to give her the last baby. He quickly sets the green-scaled baby on the ground before turning back to you.

"Now, where were we?"

[mybiasisexo]

Entangled - Part 8

Pairing: Chanyeol x f.Reader Chapter Warnings: Language   Word Count: 5k Author Notes: okay, I feel like this is lowkey a filler chapter 😭. but I like it so idk lmao. so much has happened since I last updated. I quit my old job, got a new one (that's kicking my ass. pray for me) had my bday and saw Beyonce 3 times!! but yeah as always sorry for the delay, hope you like the chapter and feel free to lmk what you thought!!! I loooove feedback and y'alls commentary!!! makes my damn day!! have fuuuuuun~!

You come to the following morning from what is possibly the best sleep you’ve gotten in years. A yawn escapes you as you stretch your tender body.

The action has you aware of something not moving around you, and you glance down to see a heavy arm thrown over your waist. As if the owner of the limb can sense your attention, it constricts, pulling you closer to a heat behind you.

Startled, you tense up, not even daring to breathe as you carefully roll onto your back and then turn your head the rest of the way until you’re knocking your nose gently against Chanyeol’s.

He’s in a deep slumber. Gentle snores leave his slightly parted lips, and his features are relaxed. He looks so peaceful, so serene, so…content. It melts your heart. You can’t help but stare at him, noticing the way his silky tawny hair falls across his pillow and the stubble poking out of his chin that grew in from the night before.

The night before….

Your eyes widen at the reminder and you’re sitting straight up, causing Chanyeol’s arm to fall limply on your lap.

Oh, you’ve really done it now.

Chanyeol stirs, and you think you’ve woken him, but he just rolls onto his other side, revealing his naked back to you.

Harsh rows of red raised skin catch your attention–the proof of how good a lover he is. Even though you know to some men, Chanyeol included, the scratches are a badge of honor, you only feel remorse from causing him pain.

His lack of clothing has you aware of your current state of undress and you quickly pull the thin sheet over your chest. It’s a silly action. Chanyeol’s sleeping, but even if he was awake, he’s seen your breasts plenty of times, had them in his goddamn mouth last night for christ’s sake.

Still, you must at least try to preserve some dignity.

You dare another glance at the man beside you, as if he’s a figment of your imagination that will vanish once you’re in your right mind. He doesn’t go away, so you must be really out of it.

Groaning, you drop your head, hitting your forehead repeatedly with the palm of your hand.

Idiot. Idiot. Idiot.

Fucking your ex fiance was the last thing you had planned to do on this trip. Getting closure? Sure. Making peace? The least you could have done. Now? Things have become even more complicated. Which is pretty impressive given everything that has transpired over the last couple days. And Yerim…. God, Yerim. She hasn’t even been gone twenty-four hours and you’ve already jumped her man’s bones. Sure, he was yours first, but it’s the principle of the thing.

Shit, maybe you are the problem.

As if you aren’t already about to dive in a pool of panic, a memory from the night before decides to reveal itself. The knowledge has you gasping, staring unseeingly ahead of you in terror.

Did you tell Chanyeol you loved him?

Oh, god. Oh, fuck.

Yeah, you gotta get out of here.

Feeling nauseous, you stumble out of the bed, crumbling to the ground the minute you put weight on your legs. Your bambi legs are a byproduct of Chanyeol’s pleasurable menstrations, having you literally weak in the knees. You shake your head and push through the slight throbbing of your core, standing carefully on shaky legs. Chanyeol chooses this moment to toss back around so that he’s facing you again. The arm that was around you earlier flops forward to reclaim its position, but lands on egyptian cotton instead. His eyebrows scrunch together as his hand idly runs over the empty space–searching for you. Feeling bad, you pull down a pillow. His fingers find it and yank it towards him, curling into it like a toddler with his favorite teddy bear. Your name leaves his mouth in a content breath, and all the turmoil in you dissipates for a moment. Maybe you’re overreacting? Yerim won’t be too mad, right? And Chanyeol still wants you, right? Last night meant something to him?

Did it mean something to you?

You can’t even think about that right now. Truth is you have no idea where you stand, and are even more confused than before the wedding. You’ve blurred the lines and anything can mean anything.

What you do know is that you need to leave, and you need to do it before Chanyeol wakes up. You can’t face him right now, not before you understand your emotions and actions.

“Focus,” you order yourself. You scan the floor that is now a mess of discarded garments, and a shimmer of gold catches your eye. You snatch it up, only to find it’s Chanyeol’s tie. You stare at it, remembering the way he demanded you to undress him, and drop it like it shocked you, shivering from the memory. That is definitely not what you’re looking for. 

There. A little further you find your dress and underwear. You slide them on quickly, not bothering to zip up your dress. You’re only going a few doors down, so you only hold it against your chest.

Despite telling yourself to focus, you can’t stop thinking about your confession. Obviously it was the lust speaking, the nostalgia. Yeah, that’s all that was.

Chanyeol never said it back.

The epiphany straightens your back, and you startle as you lock eyes with yourself in the floor length mirror directly in front of you. The woman before you is tragic, her hair poofy and stiff, eyes rimmed black, face puffy and nose still red from crying. You look like the clown you are.

You shudder, truly haunted, and head out. You pause by the door to slip into your shoes and grab your purse. Your heels have a buckle, but you can’t risk wasting any more time, so you don’t bother securing them. 

You open the door and a choir of angels begin to sing.

Their joyous voices die with a record scratch at the sight of Byun Baekhyun standing on the opposite end, fist up as though he’s about to knock.

You can’t catch a break.

He takes you in, visibly shocked. He says your name in a dramatic loaded question and you wince at his volume, bouncing off the walls. Damn, this is not good.

“What are you doing here?” He asks accusingly.

You quickly peek over your shoulder, checking to see if your new visitor is loud enough to wake Chanyeol. He doesn’t stir, and you can’t fight the pride that blooms in you. You wore that man out!

Shaking the emotion off, you turn back to Mr. Loud Mouth in front of you.

“Hush,” you hiss, shoving him back with the arm not currently holding both your dress, and what little you have left of your sanity, together. You make sure the door closes with a gentle ‘click’ before grabbing Baekhyun’s arm, dragging him the couple doors down to your suite. He yelps and asks where you’re ‘kidnapping’ him. It’s easy to ignore his helpless cries with the obnoxious sound of your heels slapping against your feet. 

Once in front of your door, you dig through your purse for your key, forgetting you didn’t secure your dress. The top half flutters down, titties basking in the breeze.

You freeze, eyes closing tightly as you bite your bottom lip so hard you think you’re going to bite it off. Your only saving grace is that Baekhyun is behind you, obscuring his view of your private bits.

You hear him huff in annoyance before he’s brushing your hair out of the way, gathering your dress, zipping it up as far as it can go with your arms not in the sleeves.

“Thank you,” you whisper, face burning in shame. Dejectedly, you find the key and get you both in. You kick your clacky shoes off, not wanting to draw unwanted attention, and lead Baekhyun to your room. You rest your forehead against the door as you close it, giving yourself a moment to just breathe.

Once you’ve deluded yourself into thinking you’re good, you turn around and face your friend. He’s taken residence in your vanity chair, searching your frazzled figure with worry. You can only imagine what you must look like from his point of view.

Finally, he musters the courage to speak. “You look….”

“I don’t want to hear it.”

“Okay…. Would you care to explain why you were running out of Chanyeol’s room like you robbed him? In your wedding clothes, no less, first thing this morning?”

You rub your eyes. To be honest, no, you didn’t want to have this conversation. Especially with Baekhyun. No offense to the guy, you adore him, but he’s not really known for taking things seriously. Except… right now it does appear he’s taking this situation very seriously. Although there is a hint of playfulness in his tone, you can’t see any of it on his face, only genuine concern.

Defeated, you sigh and march to your bed, plopping down onto the edge to bury your face in your hands.

“We had sex.”

“Really? I couldn’t tell,” he answers sarcastically. You glare at him through your fingers. He grins in reply, but it’s soft, reassuring, letting you know that everything will be okay.

It slips from his face as a thought occurs to him. “You weren’t drunk, were you?”

You shake your head and he lets out a relieved breath.

“Quite the opposite. It was probably the most sober decision I’ve made this whole trip.”

“So, what went wrong?”

“I just….” You recall your confession and wince, stomach flipping with embarrassment. “We ended up running into each other in the elevator and went to his room. We were only supposed to talk. But, I don’t know. You know the wedding was a lot for us both. And this trip has been very stressful and tense and we haven’t been alone since we got here and maybe that was for good reason because obviously we couldn’t handle that if–”

“You’re rambling,” he interrupts.

You take a deep breath. 

“I told him I loved him,” you push out before you can regret admitting it. It sounds even worse spoken out loud.

“And?” He asks, skeptically.

You blink in surprise at his reply. “And he, well, he didn’t say it back.”

You avoid his gaze and bring your knees to your chest and nibble on your thumbnail anxiously, waiting for Baekhyun’s response to the new detail. You must have rendered him speechless, because he remains silent. Either that, or he’s trying to figure out the best way to let you down on Chanyeol’s behalf. That makes you stiffen your shoulders, bracing yourself for the cold dose of reality. It never comes, and his lack of response drags until you think you’re going to explode.

Finally, you whip your head up to him exasperatedly just to see him looking at you like you’re the dumbest bitch he’s ever seen.

“What?” You snap, hating how condescending his expression is.

He rolls his eyes at your tone and lets out a laugh coated in disbelief, rubbing his forehead. “I love you, but you’re stupid.”

“I know,” you sulk, pouting as you rest your chin on your knees. “I wasn’t thinking straight, obviously. I got too caught up in the moment. Being with him like that, it brought me back to the good ol’ days, when we were falling in love. But, we’re not in college anymore. We’re not the same people we were when we were together.”

You furrow your brows, really trying to untangle your thoughts. It’s a lot easier to do with someone to look at.

“That’s what it is. I mean, how can I still love a man I don’t know? I can still have lingering feelings for the man I used to know, though. Maybe having sex was a good thing? All that leftover tension between us can finally rest. Yeah, that’s what last night was–left over tension. Now that we’ve done the deed, we should be good now. Sure, we still need to have a talk, there’s still some things we need to address to fully move on, but I think the hardest part has passed.”

You search your friend’s face for the right answer. “Right?”

His lips thin and then he’s sighing. “Do you want to know what I think?”

You nod miserably, thoughts too chaotic to decipher any logic.

Baekhyun stands up and walks over to you, reaching out to rub your arms comfortingly. In a gentle murmur he says, “I think you need some breakfast.”

A surprised chuckle leaves you as you lean forward, resting your forehead against his stomach. “You’re probably right.”

You relax under his touch, and you both stay like that. His hands go from your shoulders to your back, rubbing soothing circles onto your skin. The repetitive trail makes you drowsy.

The door swings open.

“I thought I heard you co–OH MY GOD!”

Seulgi stands dumbfounded at the door, the hand not frozen on your door knob covers her hanging jaw. Shock coloring her face as she takes in the compromising sight before her.

Baekhyun stumbles quickly away from you, tripping over his feet in his haste.

“It's not what it looks like!” You defend. That’s literally the worst line you can possibly say to her.

“What the hell!” She squeaks. “What the fuck is happening right now!?”

“We were just about to get something to eat!” Baekhyun says, as if that explains anything.

“HUH?!” Seulgi starts fanning her reddening face. She turns to you, not even going to humor him. “Look, I know this weekend has been rough for you. I understand you wanting to distract yourself by getting underneath someone. But, to sleep with Baekhyun of all people–”

“Hey!” The man in question barks. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Seulgi, please,” you beg. Crawling off the bed, you stumble over to her. “That’s not what happened at all!”

Your words go through one ear and out the other as she glares at Baekhyun, who’s shivering in his metaphorical boots under her judging stare. “I can’t believe you would do this! Chanyeol is your best friend! Do you not care how this will affect him when he finds out?”

“We didn’t do anything,” you plead.

“Then explain what I just walked into! Explain why you look a damn mess! And are those–are those hickeys?”

“I HAD SEX WITH CHANYEOL!” You yell in her face.

“I–wait, what?” You can see the internal conversation she’s having with herself as she tries to comprehend what you just confessed to her. When your words have meaning, a look of sheer horror contorts her lovely features.

“You didn’t.” Her voice is low, threateningly so.

You gnaw at your bottom lip, even more anxious than when Baekhyun was questioning you. 

Your silence is an admission and she yells your name accusingly.

“I know!” You agree. “Please, I know!”

“I don’t understand. How? Why? I thought you were over him, or at least trying to be. I–”

“Hey,” Baekhyun cuts her off, joining your little party. He rests a hand on her shoulder. “Let’s let her take a shower and get into some clothes that don’t have cum stains on them. Then we can get breakfast. She can explain everything then.”

“There’s no cum on my dress,” you mumble with a frown.

“I know Chanyeol’s kinks,” Baekhyun says. You huff in defeat.

Seulgi’s cat shaped eyes bounce back and forth between you both skeptically. You can see all the questions she has running through her pretty head.

“Alright,” she reluctantly agrees. “Hurry and get ready. I’m starving.”

You have a feeling it’s not food she’s hungry for.

Baekhyun leads her out of your room, throwing you an apologetic look, and you wonder how many more times he’s going to look at you like that.

Nearly an hour later, you find yourself in a little unassuming mom and pop restaurant. Baekhyun’s grandmother lives on the island, so he knows all the local hot spots. The ajumma serving you is absolutely thrilled to see him, promising to put a bit more love in your food, which you can definitely taste upon your first bite. It is exactly what you need after the active night you’ve had.

“Yerim made it home safely,” Seulgi informs, not glancing up from her plate as she does.

Your lips thin at the mention of her sister, knowing she’s bringing her up on purpose.

You didn’t need her reminder. Yerim has been on your mind all morning.

“Yeah?” You finally answer. “Glad to hear. I’m sure she’ll hate me for good once she finds out what I did right after she left.”

“She’ll get over it,” Baekhyun is quick to dismiss.

“She’ll forgive you,” Seulgi allows. “But she’ll never forget.”

Leaning back, she finally gives you a sharp look. “What happened last night anyway?”

Luckily, you just so happen to scoop some food into your mouth when she asks that, so you take advantage and slow down your chewing. Aiming to enjoy every last bit, because you know it’s going to be the last time you’ll be able to. You swallow it down with some water, for good measure, taking your time chugging it empty. 

Seulgi watches in amusement, knowing what game you’re playing.

“Well,” you start, scratching behind your ear. “As you both already know, Chanyeol and I hooked up last night.”

“Hooked up?” Seulgi clarifies incredulously. It’s an interesting choice of words to describe what the two of you did.

Beside her, Baekhyun shakes his head, but keeps his opinions to himself, allowing you the floor.

“Yeah. And I want to say, for the record, that it was spontaneous. We just so happened to bump into each other when I was on my way back to the room. He asked me if I wanted to go to his room instead and I said yes–innocently! We were planning on just talking. And I mean, we did talk a bit?”

“Did you talk about Yerim?” Seulgi asks.

“No….” You avoid her stare and sink into your chair.

“Did you talk about your breakup?”

“No….”

Her eyes narrow. “So, what did you talk about?”

“About the wedding,” you answer like it’s obvious.

“And now it all makes sense.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You pout.

“The two of you have been tiptoeing around each other all weekend. I thought it was just the awkwardness of seeing an ex–in your case, an ex dating your friend. But I misread it. Now it’s pretty obvious that if it weren’t for Yerim, you would’ve probably slept with him sooner. It wasn’t awkwardness I felt, it was tension…the sexual kind.”

Your frown deepens. Were you seriously that weak? You thought you did a pretty damn good job resisting Chanyeol, but it only took three days to fall into his sheets. That wasn’t very strong of you at all. Seulgi is right. Yerim was the main reason for you keeping your distance, not your pride or your past. She had only been gone a few hours before you gave into him.

“Does that make me a terrible person?” You quietly ask.

“I don’t think so,” Baekhyun answers simply, shrugging when you lock eyes.

“It doesn’t,” Seulgi agrees, although she lets out a tired sigh right after. “But I still don’t understand why? It’s been years, girl, and you’ve never mentioned him once in that time. It’s been a while since you got laid, and even longer since it was with Chanyeol. Old habits die hard, and you didn’t get the closure you wanted, but sleeping with your ex seems so out of character for you.”

“He’s not just some ex, Seulgi,” Baekhyun intervenes. “He’s her ex fiance, and they didn’t break up on bad terms, necessarily. There’s still love there.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” you interject, shifting in your seat uncomfortably. 

“So, it was just an old attraction? Old habits and all that?” Seulgi asks.

“I think so,” you say and she seems to melt in relief. “I think it was just left over sexual tension, and now that we’ve got it out of our system, we can be normal. We can move on.”

Baekhyun doesn’t seem convinced. “And you’re sure Chanyeol will agree with you?”

You shrug. “I don’t see why not. It was just sex.”

“It’s never ‘just sex’ with Chanyeol, and you know that. Especially when it comes to you.”

“You’d be surprised,” you mutter, mood dampening at the memory.

He doesn’t hear you. “And I know you’re lying. Didn’t you tell him you loved him last night?”

You glare at Baekhyun and he answers it with a smug smile, knowing he just set you up.

“You did what now?” Seulgi asks deadpan.

Internally you wince. “I might have told him I loved him while in the throes of passion.”

She says your name disapprovingly. 

“And you know what? He didn’t say it back. So, you see? It was nothing more than physical for him as well.”

Seulgi looks as though she has some words for you, but Baekhyun beats her to the punch.

“You both drive me insane,” he groans. “It’s obvious you both still care about each other, what’s the point of trying to talk yourself out of it? It’s never too late to try again, and trust me when I say Chanyeol wants to more than anything. He’s already asked you for a second chance. He wants this! He wants you!”

“He said all that when he was drunk off his mind, Baekhyun.”

“Doesn’t make it any less true!”

You groan and lean your head back against your chair, feeling the pressure of the world falling onto your shoulders. It hits you then, the weight of Chanyeol’s affection, and for a moment you’re back on that sidewalk, drowning in it. You remember why you left, remember the moment your love for him twisted into something dark. Chanyeol said you told him you hate him. Truth is, you had. With him back in your life, you forgot about that, forgot that there was another reason why you were trying to avoid him. Again, everything is even more confusing, and you find yourself at a total loss of what to do next.

“It’s okay to feel overwhelmed by that,” Seulgi reassures. She knows you way more than you give her credit far. “Everything is happening so fast. You don’t have to make a decision right now, and honestly, I don’t think it’s wise for you to.”

You lift your head back up and take in your concerned friends. With the way they’re both sitting on either side of each other before you, it’s almost like they’re the angel and devil on your shoulders. One speaks for your heart, while the other speaks for your mind. Holding onto each of your hands and yanking you back and forth like a rope in tug-o-war. 

“I don’t know the right answer,” you whisper, feeling your eyes water in frustration.

“Whatever’s going to make you happy,” Baekhyun answers simply.

You cough a laugh and a tear escapes, but you’re quick to wipe it away.

“I think,” Seulgi begins, reaching over and grabbing your hand. “You should give each other space, and wait until you’re back in Seoul. It’s only a couple days, and it’ll give both of you time to figure out what exactly it is you want from each other. Do you have an idea of what that is? Is it a relationship? Closure? Or just physical connection?”

“I’m not sure,” you admit.

She tilts her head and raises her eyebrows. You understand. She’s right.

“That’s probably the best idea,” you relent.

Baekhyun grunts in disgust. “Doesn’t Chanyeol deserve a say in this?”

“Of course he does,” you say.

“But that’s a conversation for later,” Seulgi intrudes. “Preferably with others around.”

You lift your hands up in defeat. 

Now that your problem has been solved for now, you all go back to eating in a comfortable silence. Everything still tastes amazing, thank fuck.

Suddenly, Baekhyun straightens and turns to Seulgi. “What did you mean earlier anyways? When you said me of all people?”

She scoffs. “Besides the fact that you’re a weirdo? You’re Chanyeol’s best friend. If you had slept together, it would be the deepest betrayal to him. But, if she had slept with any of you, my reaction would be the same. The only other person I could possibly see her with is Sehun, and even then….”

“Ew,” you both finish.

“I love all of you,” you say. “But not like that.”

“It’s the same for me too!” Baekhyun admits. “I would never do that to Chanyeol, because I would never do that, period. Don’t ever put that disgusting idea in anyone’s head again!”

“No problem!” Seulgi says, resolute.

You finish breakfast soon after that and leave for the hotel. Today is the first day of your little             reunion tour. Sehun figured that everyone would be too hungover to do anything that required movement, so you’re all just going to hang out at the beach and watch the sunset. Sounds like the perfect Sunday to you.

You all left your phones in the car, so the first thing you do once buckled up is check your notifications, reading the texts in the groupchat confirming some of the others were heading out to the beach and the location they chose. Baekhyun winces as he scans his device, catching your attention. When you lock eyes, he gives you that pitiful smile, almost like a warning, before turning his screen for you to read. It’s filled with texts and missed calls from Chanyeol.

“Oh boy,” is all you can muster, trying not to linger too much on the only message you can read: ‘please. I’m begging’.

“What’s up?” Seulgi asks from the backseat. Baekhyun proceeds to show her his phone and she shakes her head in dismay.

“Should I call him?” He asks.

“No,” you’re quick to reply. Avoiding his gaze, you settle into your seat, staring blindly out the windshield. You feel him watching you for a moment before sighing and starting the car, pulling out to drive you back to the hotel.

The elevator ride is long. You wonder if Chanyeol will be in the hallway when it opens. Baekhyun leans against the wall, rapidly firing off texts the whole way up. It takes everything in you not to ask him what he’s telling Chanyeol to calm him down. 

The doors open, and you’re both relieved and crushed to enter an empty hall. Baekhyun walks you both to your room, which is polite, but you all know is a front. His room isn’t on this floor, and you don’t need him to walk you back.

“Where are you going?” You can’t help but to ask.

He grins guiltily and nudges his head towards Chanyeol’s room. “I’m going to check on him. That’s why I came up here in the first place.”

“Right….”

He pats your shoulder. “Get ready and head down to the beach. I’m sure you got Jongdae’s text in the groupchat. Both him and Jongin are already setting up camp.”

“Don’t take too long,” Seulgi says in farewell before pulling you into the suite.

As soon as the door closes, she’s holding you by the shoulders, staring deep into your eyes. “You can’t go back on your word now.”

“I’m not,” you say, cringing as the way it sounds like a lie.

Her grip on you tightens. “It’s all going to work out. Don’t get all sulky.”

“I’m not.”

She smiles. “You’re such a terrible liar. It’s kind of cute.”

“Stop flirting with me,” you sigh, grabbing her hands to hold them instead. “I’m going to take your advice. We need space.”

“Space,” she repeats approvingly, rubbing your knuckles with her thumbs.

Banging on your door causes you both to jump.

“Yeol, stop it! I already told you they’re not there!”

“I need to know for sure.”

You swallow thickly at the sound of Chanyeol’s voice.

You hear Baekhyun sigh and then Chanyeol call your name, which jerks you closer to the door. Seulgi grips your hands harder, holding you back. You lock eyes. She shakes her head in warning.

“Are you in there?” He pauses briefly, waiting for you to reply. You hold your breath, afraid in the silence he can hear your heart’s rapid beating. “Please, open the door, Mel. I just… I just need to see you.”

His voice is calm, but alarmed, as if he’s trying not to sound as desperate as he feels. He knocks again, the reps urgent, giving away the worry he’s trying to disguise.

“I just need you to tell me everything’s okay.” Now his voice cracks.

Fuck it. You can’t avoid him forever. You go to open the door, but Seulgi’s hold is surprisingly strong and you can’t break it.

“Space, remember?” She whispers.

You didn’t know that started now. 

Reluctantly, you relax, leaning your head on Seulgi’s shoulder. She wraps her arms around you, rubbing your back as you wait for Baekhyun to do his job in getting Chanyeol away.

“I can’t do this again, man,” Chanyeol’s broken voice comes through the door. “I can’t lose her again. Not like this.”

“I know, Dude.” Baekhyun sounds just as helpless, and a wave of guilt washes over you from putting him in this position. “But, she’s not in there. Let’s go to my room so I can change. It won’t take long, so don’t even think of ditching me!”

A silence drags on for so long you’re sure they’ve left. 

“Chanyeol?” Baekhyun urges.

“I–okay. Let’s go.”

You hear them retreat and let out a breath.

Seulgi whistles. “Quite the mess you’ve made.”

You swallow the lump in your throat. “You can say that again.”

“Hey,” She rubs your arm. “He’s going to be fine. Let’s change. I’m sure you’re now very eager to get down there.”

You let her lead you to your room. The whole time you can’t get over the pain in Chanyeol’s voice, a pain that you caused.

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taglist @byunparklimchoi, @defloey @notyuji @hisungovenaocare

[eerna]

okay wait actually now that we're on the book-series-strengths-and-shortcomings-train what do you love most about tlt and tlc? (multiple answers bonus)

HOHO A COMBO

TLC: 1) Friendship not being secondary to romance!! The series' main theme is love. In the grand finale the big bad taunts the MC about love... but she doesn't use her boyfriend, no, she uses her best friend. This is made even more powerful because by all means, the best friend was meant to be the secondary love interest by all rules of 2012 YA, but NO he is JUST A FRIEND and it is not treated as "something less". 2) Team building!!!! Oh my god!!!! Building onto point 1, but it needs its own point. Rarely does a fictional team of main characters feel as natural as the Rampion Crew. This is even more impressive because the 9 of them don't appear in the same room until the end of the series. Even though the team consists of 4 couples and 1 single, everyone has a dynamic with everyone, they have arcs that aren't tied exclusively to their partner but also someone else on the team, they interact with each other freely. 3) The wide range of characters! I am a sucker for a "team of girls totally different from each other saves the world" setup, and TLC does it perfectly. I think this is one of the best YA series out there because of how much it empowers different kinds of girls. The guys are also easy to tell apart even at first read, and I sooo appreciate that at least one of them isn't conventionally attractive (anymore). 4) It's so funny. I love these books and how funny they are. They hit the perfect balance between a fun teen adventure and a heartfelt emotional story. 5) This is one of the least "Here's what REALLY happened" series I've read. A bunch of times major things influence characters' thoughts and opinions, but those things are fake and never revealed as fake, OR the characters never learn some big things that could change their opinions at all. Seeing how impacted Winter was when she realized Levana truly loved her father, when I KNOW what really happened, always shakes me to my core - and Winter never learns the truth!!! Everyone who could explain what really happened is dead!! Winter will forever go on thinking at least her father had a marriage of love!!! And why should she learn the truth, really, it would only serve as yet another sad plot twist that traumatizes her even deeper. 6) Levana. I am not usually a villain girlie, but Levana absolutely slaps. She is simultaneously disgusting, horrible, and pitiful. Usually if I like the villain it's because he has something smart to say, but Levana doesn't, I can't relate to her or see things from her perspective... But the leads can! Levana seems to carry all the trauma and complexes of our leads, but she crumbled under them, showing Cinder what she might have become if not for her loved ones.

TLT: 1) Isn't afraid of people not getting it!! Do you understand how refreshing this is to see in a mainstream popular series??? The book doesn't act like you are an idiot, it acts like you are some sort of a genius, and you feel illiterate until you realize NO ONE got it the first time around and you're gonna have to do lots of rereading and thinking to get it. This makes it impossible to get into for some people, but so what. So what!!! What matters is that it rewards those who stay and put in the work!! 2) Absolutely bonkers insane relationships. No one can be "just a friend" in these, we need 1000 different layers of trauma and tenderness surrounding everyone. 3) Pathetic women. These books are the epitome of all the worst parts of yourself laid bare. These characters act out the most shameful, horrible memories and impulses of your heart, all the while spouting poetics about the entire situation. And it is pure catharsis!! It is so rare to see female characters depicted this pathetic without it being torture porn. 4) Writing style. It's the perfect example of how realism doesn't matter if you're good with your words. No one in these books talks like a real life person, but they are all distinct from each other and filled with personality. Every book has several lines that have the power to reduce me a to a sobbing mess just from hearing them. Just. The writing style is so good that I even enjoy reading INTERVIEWS with the author, she has a way of speaking that keeps you engaged and makes her sound so smart. 5) Each book is its own thing, keeping you on your toes, but they all still feel cohesive. It also means that even if the final book sucks, I won't have any hangups about it, since I will just be able to reread the first 3. Honestly even if AtN never comes out, I won't feel like I wasted any time, because the books are so fantastic and so worth reading that the end of the journey doesn't even matter to me that much - and if you've been here a while, you'll know what a radical statement that is for me. It is so nice to relax and enjoy the ride instead of stressing over my thoughts and opinions aging badly.

[the-gentleman-pining]

Decided to rewatch OFMD S2 eps 1-3 and actually jot down my thoughts as I go! Oh what fun! Ngl this is mostly for me babes but if you enjoy it that's neat ❤️

Episode 1: Impossible Birds

Stede bearded in his dream could just be playing to swashbuckling archetypes for funsies, but is it some lingering wish that he was more masculine?

Con O'Neil truly graceful about it with the sword huh

"WHERE IS HE. WHERE'S ED?" Stede seeing Izzy as the thing that is keeping Ed from him when he's the one that left lol ok

His idealised version of Ed doesn't hold him accountable either. My mans doesn't want to face what he did at all!!

His first words to Ed in his letter are reassuring him that the crew are safe, as if he doesn't remember that Ed marooned them and left them for dead on purpose??

I know it's meant to be funny but Jackie was a bit of a sex pest toward Swede at first and the power dynamic was a bit 🫤 Glad he was into it in the end!

WHY DOES WEE JOHN SLAM THE HEAD OF THE ONE WHO GOT STABBED INTO THE TABLE INSTEAD OF THE ONE WHO STABBED THEM?? 😂

Stede truly is unphased by people being assholes to him and I just,,, respect it.

Ricky your vibes are strange and unsettling

Who in their right mind would have an ocean wedding in the golden age of piracy?? I know they probs didn't know it was the golden age of piracy while they were in it but STILL

Ed looks so dead behind the eyes 😭 Just going through the motions eh buddy?

Dressed up like the book Blackbeard I see. God he's trying so hard to inhabit this character.

I would die for Archie. Truly the himbo we need in these depressing angst riddled times.

Jim asking someone else how they're bottling things up?? Hello?? Who are you and what have you done with Jim?? Aren't you the bottling up Master? Olu bewitched you too good and now you've unlocked Feelings 😔

"He's actually a good guy" Stede babygirl did we actually forget the marooning???

I have so much I could say about how Izzy and Blackbeard's relationship has deteriorated hhhhh,,,, Izzy is a problem child but I'm so glad the story is crashing towards his character actually growing and changing. In season 1 he at least got the crumbs Ed would throw him like "I need you here", now he's only getting abuse and maybe he's throwing himself at it because he recognises he had a part to play in reaching this point and believes he deserves it.

Fang's delivery on "how you doing Izzy" will keep me warm and fed all winter. Masterclass in approaching someone, truly tender and genuine but not too pressuring. God.

That second "unhand me" hhh the panic of realising you're going to start crying if the situation continues

Con is gonna rip my heart out and eat it this season if I'm not careful

Labour exploitation Jackie what a girlboss x

Why does "you'll be having a lot of breakfastseses together" sound so ominous though 😭 Smeagol Jackie my worstie...

Stede doing Blackbeard Voice is adorable but damn he really doesn't believe that he made Ed's life better. Like how??? Why doesn't Stede equate happiness with better? Ed was explicitly happier around you ya dingus!

Swede deserves his married bliss so much. The crew can be so mean to him!!

"What am I to you" and "I have... love for you" are said so softly I'm gonna be sick,, Izzy you fucked it by wrestling this man into this particular coping mechanism and your tenderness is coming wayyyy too late. Heartbreaking tbh cause the guy didn't know how else to help Ed and now he's realising it could have been different. Sick and twisted little dynamic I'm eating it like good soup.

Definitely supposed to be taken that Izzy didn't realise "talk it through" was a Stedeism as he said it but godddd you idiot dude

Once again god bless you Archie I'd die for you

Fang I want to rescue you hhhhhh my hot topic fashionista must be so dehydrated from all these tears!!!

No way in hell Ed expected anything else out of Izzy's mouth than something about Stede, but god I wish the guy had just payed attention to Frenchie shaking his head. The catharsis of saying the quiet part out loud wasn't worth your leg, man.

"Start by cleaning up that mess"... yeah we def see Ed is killing people himself again but outsourcing the Big Job on Izzy makes sense. He's also exactly the kind of self sabotager atm that would know Frenchie won't do it, and he's looking for reasons to Be Worse.

Indigo heist my beloved. Fuck those hammies up!! I love how loud Black Pete was omg 😂

Oh fuck off Ricky I know you're a S1 Stede mirror but you're doing it detestably

Roach why is your instinct to immediately put the blue dirt on your face darling

Zheng Yi Sao completely unphased by Jackie is giving me so much delight

Sexy Dutchman 😭😂 Jackie never change

I love that Zheng Yi Sao is taking the whole crew on just to have her lil Olu moment, get it girl

TENDER JIM IM SO HAPPY FOR THEM THEY'VE COME SO FAR. I LOVE THEIR BIG SMILE 😭 (also Archie is so wholesome what is she DOING here???)

Ed oh my god you're not alright at ALL

Frenchie's quiet "sounds like a plan" is just so... painful. The acting this season is off the charts.

When Roach asked if they were in soup now I thought he was referring to the ocean as soup I'm an idiot 😭

[sitp-recs]

3 Tacky shorts to read this week

I ran against time to get this post out before midnight ET but am still a bit late 🥲 I know T won’t mind so here’s my belated gift to my sun and stars, my first and dearest partner in crime @tackytigerfic! T, I have no words to describe how much I appreciate our friendship. It’s been so special to experience this fandom with you in the last few years. I love that we immediately hit off and share one stupid brain cell when it comes to these idiots; it feels like we’ve known each other forever and 24 hours (especially living so far apart) is not enough to talk fic, headcanons, kinks, squicks and all other irl and existencial topics with you. Navigating such a big fandom can be really scary but even when nobody knew me I’d never feel lonely, invisible or like I had to pretend to be someone else, because I had you by my side. Thank you so so much for being my safe harbour, my sicko soulmate, my confidant, my role model and my biggest cheerleader!

As I thought of new ways to celebrate your day I tried to remember which fics I hadn’t written a rec for. I came to realize that I was never able to put my thoughts into words when it comes to my 3 favorite short fics of yours. They got me in such a Drarry fever, a tingling incoherent state of emotional devastation that I immediately put away the idea of doing recs because there was no possible way to translate my raw, ugly and chaotic feels about them. I tend to do this with fics that leave me with the so-called hangover once I’m done; funnily enough, the last time this happened - when I read Lettered’s By the Grace - it was you who helped me get that rec out by reviewing it and cheering me along the way, tysm 🥹 now it’s time to respond in kind and share love for these short gems that I have the privilege to revisit every time I need some comfort food. Lucky me, it turns out my best pal writes the exact brand of tender romance that checks all of my boxes. You are a fantastic friend and such a brilliant, talented writer. I love and admire you, and I’m so proud of everything you’ve achieved. Can’t wait to see what comes next. Happy day T! 💜

👩‍🚀 Far Side + Relic Radiation (M, 1.7k)

Draco goes into space, leaving behind his son Scorpius (who has just started at Hogwarts, at least), and his not-quite-boyfriend Harry Potter. But Harry can't stop loving Draco just because he's approximately 408km up, in constant orbit.

“You’ll kill that plant,” Draco said, and flicked a lazy charm over the pot with his fingers so the spicy smell of the lavender sharpened the night air.

“You’ll kill me,” Harry said, and Draco turned his face towards the darkened sky, lunar pale, his profile some stupid unearthly thing—a flaring blazar, a supernova—in the light from the kitchen window.

When I say the heart kick factor may hit you in the solar plexus when you least expect, this is what I’m talking about. I’ve obsessed so much over these 2 tiny shorts with single dad!Draco (one of the tropes Tacky does magic with, they are so disgustingly romantic and emotionally satisfying - gimme T’s dad!Draco anthology or give me nothing!!!) that I came up with a whole theory to prove these stories are actually connected. Whether I’m on the right track or just another delusional reader it’s yet to be seen 🤣 Draco’s devotion to baby Scorpius - and Harry’s gentle yearning for the both of them - does things to my poor heart I can’t quite put into words. Let that boy have his found family happy ending, damn it. Every time I reread these gems I get teared up and wish I could stay in this verse forever, watching Scorp grow while these two lovely men find each other time and again. To make your heart melt a bit more, check the breathtaking artwork by the one and only @ihopeyoubothstaysafefromharm. I cannot— *cries in Drarry*

🏜️ Between the Power Lines (M, 3k)

For Harry Potter, all roads eventually lead to Draco Malfoy.

In New Orleans, they got drunk on Bourbon Street, and Malfoy danced on his own (arms bare, laughing; Harry could have watched him all night) and later on, so late it was almost morning, they let themselves into the St Louis Cemetery—Malfoy unpicking the lock so sweetly—and walked around until the sky was pink-edged with the promise of another day’s heat. Then they sat on the steps of a crypt, watched over by sightless eyes of the statue of an angel. She looked exhausted rather than sad, Harry thought, and that made a lot of sense when he thought about his own longstanding, dull-edged grief.

The best word to describe this (literally) hot fic is “atmospheric”. T does a flawless job building impeccable Americana vibes and packing so much story while keeping it 100% character-driven. I love the elegant, contained, confident writing, I love the evocative prose and how the mutual attraction bleeds through these quiet but intense road trip vignettes. The scenario is rich and immersive, the heat so palpable you can almost taste it, and the confession at the end is my definition of peak romance. A whole sensorial experience, both introspective and exciting, vibrant and melancholy, packed within 3k. Absolutely genius.

🎯Aim For My Heart (M, 3.4k)

Harry's in love, Ron's in control, and Draco just wants a nice lunch. They say three's a crowd, but Harry doesn't always agree. Not when he gets to be in the middle, anyway.

Neither of them had asked Harry what he likes best about them, but Harry watches them and feels the sick curl of excitement low in his belly, like something lost and gained all at once, and he wonders what he’d say if they did ask; would it be mouth or hands or arse, the gleam of clean hair or the hidden scent of a freshly-revealed patch of skin, blue eyes or grey? He doesn’t think he’d tell them what he really loves the most, and that’s the fact that both of them have been his for such a long time, in one way or another, and he loves that he gets to keep them.

For reference, this will always be the Dronarry classic I refer to when I think about this ship. The way Tacky explored the implications and complications of a triad relationship in its early stages (I am so fucking weak for that mix of want, jealousy and vulnerability) combined with exquisite characterization is so well executed I could cry. Beyond that banger of a starting line (“Big hands,” Draco says, and blushes) that made me blush and squeal in delight, Harry’s POV is a triumph. He’s genuinely lovely and relatable in all his yearning and insecurities, soft and longing for both Draco and Ron. The ideia of him realizing that he gets to be loved by, and keep the two people he loves the most in the world, makes my heart burst with warmth. I can pinpoint all the small, quiet but meaningful moments that made my breath stutter and my heart beat faster. This fic is a masterclass in elaborating complex and conflicting emotions, while solving them with a light hand of tenderness and understanding. It is subtle but efficient and all-encompassing in a way that stays with you for a long time after you’ve finished reading. The perfect triad fic.

[ijustlikebnhaandbakugou]

Katsuki's Healthy Habit Reminders

(Special edition 2)

Day Twelve.

(Warning: Cussing)

Oi! Dumbass!

When's the last fucking time you had a decent homecooked meal!?

If your answer is not some fucking point within the last week, then...

GET UP! CAUSE WE'RE COOKING SOMETHING FOR YA' TODAY, IDIOT!!!

*Just fucking drags you into the kitchen and makes you stand in front of the counter next to him*

Alright, dumbass! We're gonna be cooking some curried chicken thighs today! Its a fucking simple recipe that even an idiot like you should be able to follow without fucking it up too much!

*begins pulling out the ingredients for the "fucking simple" recipe*

□□□□□

Ingredients needed for this recipe:

vegetable oil

butter

6 chicken thighs

Salt and pepper

onions

curry powder

cayenne

cinnamon

cumin

carrots, peeled and sliced on diagonal

low sodium chicken stock

broccoli florets

heavy cream

frozen peas

Cooked basmati rice for serving

□□□□

Okay, dumbass, first thing we're gonna do is season the fucking chicken thighs with salt and pepper. I usually put more pepper than salt to give 'em more of a kick, but do whatever the fuck you want! (a.k.a. season to taste)

Now we're gonna pour about 2 tablespoons (tbsp) of the vegetable oil in a fucking large skillet (or large pan) and we're gonna heat it up over the stove and stir in 1 tablespoon of butter.

Place the fucking chicken thighs in the oil and butter mix, the skin side of the damn bird should be facing down in the skillet. Cook until the chicken turns fucking golden in color! Then flip the chicken and continue until it looks almost fucking identical to the other side in color! Now remove the chicken from then fucking skillet and set it aside on a damn plate for later.

Now, we're gonna chop up an onion and measure out about one cup and place them in the damn skillet then fucking stir them around, and cook the onion until it becomes fucking tender. Then, we're gonna add in 3 teaspoons (Tsp) of curry powder, ½ a teaspoon of cayenne seasoning, 1 teaspoon of cinnamon, and 1 fucking teaspoon of cumin. Cook the spices and onion together until their aromas are released into the fucking kitchen air.

Then, toss in 2 carrots, peeled and sliced diagonally, so that the damn thing coats the top of the mix. Then add in 1½ cups of the fucking chicken stock, remember to fucking stir the food!!! And bring up the heat to a damn simmer!

Once that's done, you can add the chicken thighs into the skillet and sauce-like mixture. Then add in 1 cup of broccoli florets and cover the food and let it simmer for 15 minutes. This ensures that everything, especially the fucking chicken, is thoroughly cooked!

After the 15 minutes are over, uncover the damn food and stir in ¼ cup of heavy cream and ¾ cup of the peas, let cook until the peas are fucking cooked thoroughly!

(You can tell if the peas are cooked thoroughly by grabbing a fork and picking out one of the peas and trying it. The peas should be soft if they're done. If they aren't, they probably need a few more minutes [like maybe 5 minutes at most] of cook time)

Add in whatever other fucking seasonings you want and serve (aka season to taste) with the damn basmati rice for the best fucking results!

I suggest putting it in a bowl of some fucking sort, so the sauce doesn't get all over the damn place!

○○

And that's the fucking recipe! If you don't like it, than don't fucking try it! But you better fucking eat something thats decent and fucking homemade, you idiot! And to ensure you eat something at least somewhat fucking decent, I've left some fucking links to other recipes below, including some spicy and non-spicy ramen recipes!

Now go enjoy your meal dumbass!!!

□□□

The fucking links to other damn recipes! ⬇️

[another-corpo-rat]

❛ do you really think you’re in a position to give orders? ❜ - for vic and adam please <3

ty so much for the prompt Bunny 💕 prompt list is here for anyone who wants to do this themselves <3

and oml im so sorry for how long this one took me to get to - i was fumbling for ideas for a lot longer than i care to admit, until the want for Vic to bully Adam a lil came about

❛ do you really think you’re in a position to give orders? ❜ Adam Smasher/OC Set during the '20s

It’s quite the sight; Adam Smasher bound and snarling. Synthetic muscle straining against rope – industrial strength, more a sturdy cabling truthfully: the sort used to secure minotaurs and tow basilisks, because she’s not an idiot.

Gemini frame or not, Victoria doesn’t doubt he’d have pulled himself free from any other sort, no matter how expertly tied the knots or quality the thread. Nothing organic could restrain the man and even synthetics were questionable, no, it had to be metal for him and that feels more than fitting.

“You just gonna fucking stare at me all night?”

She could, and would be more than happy to, even in the Gemini he was worth admiring. Especially now with his arms bounds behind him, working with the straight back of the chair to push his chest forward and the thick cabling pressing just below his pectorals, drawing her eye and the urge to bite.

Her eyes follow the needless flex of his muscle downwards to where his thighs tremble minutely, almost subtle as he tries to work against her efforts. The rope holds, but the legs of the chair groan in protest. She’d think he be comfortable there at least, with his habit of spreading his knees as wide as he can.

Standing between those spread legs, her fingers thread through thick locks of blonde hair. Soft, natural feeling to have fooled her once before. “You do make a pretty picture.”

“Aw, you’re making me blush. But if you don’t ride my dick—” Her fingers tighten into a curl, yanking his head back. It quietens him, slackens his jaw as surprise catches his tongue between its teeth.

“Do you really think,” she says soft and low, a gentle croon as she nips against the exposed column of his throat, “you’re in a position to give orders?”

His chest heaves with a needless breath, tongue swiping across his lips to wet them while a muscle twitches at their corner. The smile splits his face, a teeth-baring grin that wouldn’t look amiss with a splattering of blood. “I think I’m gonna fuck you hollow then throw you to the gutter.”

She hums and barely spares a thought towards the apparent threat. It was mild in the grand scheme of things, hardly even worth noting beyond the pleasant bite in that southern drawl and the needy twitch of his neglected cock. Pinching a nipple between the sharp point of nails, she’s much more interested in that; the sharp hiss of a breath, how his body arches into the sting. He raises his chin a little higher, the bob of his Adam’s apple prominent and tempting. An invitation she readily accepts, sinking her teeth into his neck.

The texture was familiar, disappointingly perfect in the imitation of skin. No tell of the metal frame beneath, no bitter tang waiting to greet her and sit on her tongue for days after, making every meal taste like him.

No sweat, no musk. Nothing beyond the days old lingering of a vaguely spiced, certainly cheap cologne and the smoky air of cigars. Nothing distinctly him. She never thought she’d find Adam lacking in any capacity, and she’ll continue with that; placing the blame solely at the feet of the Gemini’s manufacturers instead.

“Buttercup,” he tries, voice a little raspier than usual. Needier.

She eases, tongue lathering over where she had bit, thumb ghosting over where she nipped, and waits. It’s a tenderness he’s never extended to her; always keener to press his handprint into bruising skin, and she doubts he sees it as anything more than mockery veiled in affection now.

“Fine.” A bite of a word, sharper than her teeth because she won’t allow it to be otherwise. A hand braces against his shoulder, fingers curling, nails digging in as she finally straddles him.

A shared sound of relief as his cock slides into her is caught between their lips, soundly silenced.

[suchacomet]

Spring Awakening Fandom Tag

(By @winter-asleepening, tagged (kinda) by @feelssogoodinmyarms )

sorry for this being long and for jumping in on this out of nowhere, i got excited and i missed talking about this show now that i’m once again in my yearly spring awakening phase thanks to seeing a local production yesterday :)

1. How were you introduced to the show?

i was an emo kid trying to find musicals i liked bc i started doing theater in high school, i saw american idiot was made into a musical, and followed the john gallagher jr rabbit hole to a b00tl3g of obc spring awakening. this happened to be in 2014 and when i heard about dwsa on broadway i conned my mom into taking me to nyc to see it (i didnt tell her how sexual it was i just said “it’s about teens coming of age in germany set to rock music” and she had Words for me during that intermission lol)

2. Seen a production live?

yes, four: dwsa, a local college production, and two productions at local theater companies in the areas i’ve lived

3. Dream role/character you relate to most

y’all already know it’s moritz…. i imprinted on him when i was 14 and have never stopped being obsessed with him as a character. but i think it’s more likely i’d get the chance to play ilse before moritz and i would love to play ilse as well

4. Favorite male character

mort steeple :) i have never gotten enough of this dude, ever

5. Favorite female character

wendla <3 she’s such a good character when she’s played with the right amount of joy, stubbornness, and curiosity

6. Deaf West Revival or Original Broadway Cast?

dwsa all the way. i appreciate obc for what it is but dwsa is my definitive best revival/adaptation ever ever ever

7. Favorite song

comet on its way :) christ such a whole, like, deal 🙄😏

but if you force me to pick “a real song” that “is actually in the show” then… i think a production that has a really good “and then there were none” is killer bc it means 1. they’re focusing on my favorite boy moritz and 2. they have an adult woman who plays fanny gabor compassionately but flawed in a way that underscores the show’s themes around adults not trusting kids with their own minds and bodies. which i greatly enjoy

8. Least favorite song

this is unfair of me bc it never fails to make me cry and it has one of my favorite lyrics ever in it (window by window you try and look into this brave new you that you are) but it’s “the guilty ones” bc i think “there once was a pirate” is better. my hot take is that dwsa is only version of spring awakening i’ve ever seen where i actually prefer their use of guilty ones instead of pirate

9. Favorite quote/line

musical: so maybe i should be some kind of laundry line / hang their things on me / and i will swing ‘em dry / you just wave in the sun through the afternoon / and then see / they come to set you free / beneath the rising moon - don’t do sadness it’s just such an evocative description of feeling hopeless against all the pressures of life and perfectly encapsulates being 15 and desperate and just wanting a little bit of relief. plus the way daniel durant and alex boniello performed this is so killer. moritz stiefel i love you

play: “don’t let’s be sad […] if we recall this in thirty years, perhaps we shall make fun of it.——and yet everything is so beautiful. the mountains glow; the grapes hang before our mouths and the evening breeze caresses the rocks like a playful flatterer.” from hans in the vineyard scene. augh it’s just so tender and lovely in a way that the musical doesn’t have the time/ability to address, with the acknowledgement that yes this moment is temporary and who knows if ernst and hanschen will “make it”. and yet. everything is so beautiful. also PROOF THAT HANSCHEN ISNT A CREEP OR MANIPULATIVE HE IS ALSO A TEEN BOY IN LOVE FUCK YOU STEVEN SATER

10. Favorite TV performance

always and forever dwsa touch me on seth meyer i have seen it at least two hundred times and i’m not exaggerating

11. Favorite cast member(s)

daniel durant always always always. he is such a talent i’m so glad his career seems to be taking off, he’s genuinely one of the best actors i’ve ever seen in my whole life.

12. Favorite cast member moment

can i say 1st national tour cabaret where the boys performed comet on its way in order to bring up comet on its way again. if not it’s when i gave daniel durant a painting of him as moritz at stage door and i was a shy anxious teen who learned just enough asl to say “hi” and “thank you” and “will you sign my playbill please” and he was SO sweet to me and lovely and he hugged me and i know actors do that kind of shit all the time and i’m sure he doesn’t remember it but it really made my whole life when it happened :’)

13. Do you write fan fiction?

not outside of personal catharsis pieces that have never seen the light of day. i made an aloto/vineyard scene web weaving post though that i do think goes hard

14. Do you make fan art?

i still love the moritz and then there were none piece i did a few years ago but i haven’t done a whole lot past that… that may change though i want to get back into drawing

15. Do you cosplay?

no, but spring awakening costumes have 10000% influenced my real life fashion and hair decisions. lol

16. Don’t do Sadness or Blue Wind?

i just saw this GORGEOUS performance of dds/bw where ilse sobbed through her verse of blue wind and the rest of the cast like gathered around her and slowly peeled away to represent her memory/longing for real connection and the reality of her never really having that at all, and really underscoring that her spoken lines about her new life in the artist’s colony and wanting to take moritz home are just posturing to hide how lonely she is… so right now i think blue wind

17. Word of Your Body or the Reprise?

reprise when it’s done earnestly, but i do really love the lyrics in woyb

18. Touch Me or My Junk?

my junk! i love seeing the different ways it’s staged between georg and hanschen and the girls, plus it’s the only time the girls get to be horny

19. Explain the Song of Purple Summer

it’s a metatextual message from the story of spring awakening to the audience that underscores the themes of open and honest communication being the key to healthy people and relationships, it’s asking the adults in the audience to believe children (when they say they’re gay, when they ask for information and want to be given all of it, when they ask for help and say they want to die), it’s a message of hope to the kids in the seats who relate too much to the kids on stage, telling us that it will get better

20. Explain the Song of Purple Summer (wrong answers only)

horses fuck and have foal babies idk <3

that was very fun thank you for indulging me. if any of mine olde spring awakening/dwsa mutuals are still around please consider this me tagging you <3

[exalted-dawn-drabbles]

How about “Hey! I may be a dumbass but I’m your dumbass!” for Alistair/Shaesa?

omg omg omg I was so happy when I got this prompt and I knew IMMEDIATELY what I wanted to do. So this is a lil scene after Alistair finds out that Shaesa had been previously engaged, and he gets a bit insecure about it cause Shaesa was his first love and finding out she had someone before him that she felt THAT SERIOUSLY about (jokes on him, it was arranged, but he didn't know that lol) sorta freaked him out. He started distancing himself from Shae but she noticed and called him out on it and so this is what happens after that :3 hope you enjoy! for @dadrunkwriting Rated G: Fluffy goodness, ~800 words

Try Again | By Exalted_Dawn

Shaesa stifled a snort into her palm, her smile curling against sword-formed calluses in a cheeky sort of way. Even so, the feeble attempt did little to hide the blossoming up-turn to her lips, or the way her eyes crinkled with joy, so the elf didn’t bother to pretend that she didn’t find this whole situation funny. “Maker, you’re such an idiot,” she chuckled, the words almost breathy as she spoke them, clouding on the brisk morning wind.

From the corner of her eye, she watched as Alistair’s face turned an even deeper shade of red (something she hadnt previously thought possible), scrunching in an adorably flustered scowl. “What? And you’ve never made a wrong assumption, hm?” he muttered, scrubbing at the back of his head. “It’s not as if you particularly liked to talk about it in the beginning, and when your father brought it up, I thought-”

Shaesa broke off with a laugh, curling in on herself. She rocked back against the Vhenadahl, using its sturdy trunk to balance against as she finally and truly succumbed to her amusement. She shook her head briskly, wiping a stray tear from her eye as she did. “What? That I’d lost the love of my life? That I’d never want to be engaged again?” She peaked up at the man standing beside her, all wrapped up in scarves and a thick-knit traveling cloak from head to toe. He really was too cute for his own good. It was hardly fair. She sighed deeply, sucking down a centering breath in an attempt to reign in at least some of her laughter, and reached over to grab his hand in hers. “Alistair. Just because I was once, doesn’t mean that I’m still spoken for. Sorta hard to be betrothed to a ghost… y’know?” 

He stared idly at their interlocked hands, fingers woven together tight, and Shaesa watched as something in him settled. His gaze grew distant, more contemplative and sullen. His head dipped in a tentative nod. So he wasn’t entirely convinced, then. 

Huffing, she turned and yanked him to face her, picking up his other hand so she held both aloft between them. She squeezed roughly, her conviction demanding. “Marry me.”

Alistair blinked. “I’m sorry- what?”

“Marry me, you dumbass,” she repeated, stern. 

“Uh-”

Shaesa frowned up at him expectantly, glaring down his baffled confusion. 

“Wait, are you serious?” Alistair asked.

“Of course I am.”

“What do you mean ‘of course you are’????” he quacked, balking. “You just ask like that? Out of the blue? With absolutely no warning or preparation?” 

Shaesa’s frown deepened a fraction. “Well I wouldn’t exactly say it was without planning, or entirely out of the blue. We were talking about it, and it’s been on my mind for some time now. I thought, if you really cared about me being engaged, then-”

Alistairs lips closed over hers, pressing and insistent. Warm, against the Denerim chill. Shaesa signed into the kiss, leaning up into him as he stooped to cup her face, drawing her closer. His thumbs brushed across her freckled cheeks in tender refrain, teasing a flush to them to match his own. 

They parted slowly, breath catching in the air between them. Shaesa could not help the silly, lopsided grin on her lips. “So I take it that’s a ‘yes’, then?”

“Absolutely not,” Alistair puffed indignantly, thunking his forehead against her own. “You don’t even have a ring- let alone flowers or proper mood lighting. I’m not some cheap date, you know. If you were going to propose, I would have liked to see some actual effort.”

“But if I did have all that stuff…?” She tried not to sound too hopeful, in case he was simply deflecting through humor. But her worries were swept away as Alistair grinned something goofy and pecked her nose with another kiss. 

“I suppooooose you’ll just have to ask me again and find out, won’t you?” He grabbed her hand again and tugged her along, back towards the direction of Shaesa’s family home. His ears were pink to their very tip, but his grip was firm and sure.

The nerves in her softened, as did her smile. She squeezed his hand back, stumbling to catch up with him. “You really are a dumbass,” she murmured, love swelling in her chest. How could he have doubted her for a second? As if she ever stood a chance against him.

“Yeah, well,” he started, not even bothering to look back at her. “I’m your dumbass now, so I guess you’re stuck with me. Afraid it's a bit too late for regrets.”

Regrets?

Never.

Never.

[cebwrites]

soup-ervised (Law)

a/n: something tender for the boys, posting to show @jesterwriting <3

oc x canon, they/he law word count: 0.6k

Law can't cook, however well intentioned, or at least they can't cook unsupervised - things keep getting burnt, other things aren't seasoned enough, and worst of all they make steak well done - there've also been a few fires that their crew immediately scrambled to put out.

Kirin's conked out from spring allergies again and this time Reiji's inconveniently caught something too, so they're both down for the count. Law and Rio begrudgingly agree to keep their bickering to a minimum so they can make something for their bedridden idiots.

Rio's as awful at showing them the ropes as Law is learning because they're both too stubborn for their own good; the soup miraculously catches fire while they're arguing, Rio easily starves it out by removing the oxygen but Law's still staring at it with their eyes glazing over.

Law didn't quite connect the dots from his kitchen fires to Corazon before this but now that they have noticed he can't stop thinking about it. Thinking about how they can't even do this one simple thing right and how disappointed Cora would be.

That, on top of the stress of everything else going on that week - Kirin and Reiji getting sick, probably some other things falling behind schedule or something breaking on the Tang that needs fixing - ends up being the straw that breaks the camel's back.

Law angrily throws in the towel, tells Rio he can just finish it himself if he's so good at it, and stalks off to go have his meltdown somewhere private. Bepo and Shachi find them about an hour later stuffed into a broom closet because Kirin and Reiji are taking up their bedroom for the time being.

They let him let it out, bury their face in Bepo's fluff to scream for a bit, and eventually coax Law into getting some fresh air. Law comes out of the sub to see Rio smoking against the ledge and asks if they should really be wasting time up here when she should be getting a pot of soup ready if she wants to make it in time for Kirin and Reiji's supper.

Rio tells him he's out of his mind if Law thinks that he's going to waste food, but that there's no need to drain the initial one anyway since he's already ladled out the burnt flavor - Rio replies to their silence by saying 'yes, you can do that' and Law tries to hide their fluster.

Law then asks why Rio didn't go after him, since 'all that emotional vulnerability junk' seemed to be Kirin's crew's whole schtick. Rio raises an eyebrow and responds with the question of would Law want to be emotionally vulnerable with them in a time like that and laughs at the face Law makes.

Rio tells him that's more Reiji's territory and that feelings as a whole aren't particularly their area of expertise. She continues, saying that he also knew that if Law didn't get this done today then they'd continue to feel awful about it for weeks because that's just the kind of person they are, so they'd better get back to the kitchen to finish it properly.

Law watches Rio walk past him and throw away his cigarette, staring at his back for a bit - Rio's almost through the door when they feel a weird tug in their chest and the blue light around them fades. They narrow their eyes at Law, who just says that they should thank him for removing the carcinogens in their lungs.

They get into another argument about Law being "a weird little rat" but for the rest of time they're in the galley it's entirely peaceful.

[one-winged-dreams]

Okay, never fucking mind, I have brain worms and I need to get them OUT, so I'm gonna risk passing out in my chair and eating shit for the sake of this awful fucking man

Initially, this was just supposed to be the dragon version of the Prestor and swan!insert ship. Doe-eyed idiot falls hook line and sinker for a handsome powerful man and he just is like 'okay cool whatever' and has a lot of fun just playing around with him in his weird 'i love you but i don't' way.

AND IT SORT OF STARTED THAT WAY???

PART ONE of the Nel and Dia ship progression.

(cut for length)

Step 1 ) Nel notices one of Alexstrasza's personal tenders is always stumbling over himself whenever he's around, he's wondering where he's seen him before but doesn't really think too hard about it.

Step 2 ) At some point Alex addresses Dia in front of Nel. He vaguely remembers the name from Dia's visage day when Alex asked him about his gender presentation because dragons respect trans rights in this house. He was just like "Oh, I don't know, I just let it happen. Does it look okay?" and everyone has a heart attack from how cute he is. Nel not entirely an exception but in a passing sort of 'that's interesting i guess' sort of way.

Step 3 ) Nel is progressively taking note of Dia whenever he's around because it's BRUTALLY clear that Dia is head over heels for him. Which, I mean, it wouldn't be the first time one of the regular drakes crushed on an Aspect, but he's cute and it's kind of fun to fuck with him. Because he's Nel and he's awful.

Step 4 ) At some point Dia gets sent on an errand to the Obsidian Citadel and Nel can't NOT eat the poor boy alive. The black dragons are just GLEEFULLY watching their Aspect tear this young Ruby's composure apart. Because Nel has always been described as super charming in the lore, old-god-crazy notwithstanding. And Nel, being such a CONSIDERATE and NOBLE Earth Warder, insists that Dia stay while the errand is completed. Wouldn't make sense for him to go back to the Life Shrine and then have to make the trip both ways AGAIN, right?

Step 5 ) Dia's soul leaves his body.

Step 6 ) Nel is absolutely bored out of his mind at any given moment so might as well get to know his little admirer. And the more they talk the more the cute aggression starts to build up and Nel's like "Oh I can't NOT fuck him." So he decides he's gonna shoot his shot but SLOW BURN IT.

Step 7 ) Suddenly Dia is making a lot of requests to volunteer whenever anyone needs anything from the Citadel. Alex doesn't really mind all that much but she IS squinting at Nel from across the Waking Shores.

Step 8 ) The progression of intimacy is SO long and convoluted, with one of the stages being Nel inviting Dia to sleep in his visage bed while Nel is away, he doesn't mind, he has things to attend to anyway and Dia is SO sweet and helpful, it's the LEAST he could do.

Step 9 ) Dia does VERY little sleeping that night. Nel knows this because the smell is EXTREMELY evident when he comes back. Experiment success?

Step 10 ) Little near misses of intimacy turn to intimate BONDING, turn into finally [EXPLITIVE EXPLETIVE EXPLETIVE EXPL-]

Nel is very pleased with himself, especially now that he's got a new toy that's ripe for playing with.

BUT WAIT- THERE'S MORE!

(continued in the next post)