#I AM GENUINELY AN OKAY COOK USUALLY

[icewindandboringhorror]

It always seems a bit unbalanced on The Great Food Truck Race when there will be multiple teams who are cooking a wide variety of complex dishes with 10 different components and a bunch of prep work, and then there's that one team who like... exclusively serves plain crepes with some premade nutella on them, or plain waffles with just some whipped cream and cut up strawberries lol...

[daegall]

☆ drunk confessions.

➷ in which a drunk person's words is a sober person's thoughts.

pairing: (opla!)zoro x (implied fem!) reader

genre: fluff, slight angst, slight crack, mutual pining, friends to lovers!AU (ish..?)

warnings: lots and lots of alcohol, none after that but if you find one i can add lmk!! (+ lots and love of love for smiley zoro!!!!)

word count: 3.4k words (SHEESH)

a/n: requested by @acupnoodle !! tysm bae for the request, i hope you like it!!!! my inbox is now open for requests for opla (mostly zoro tbh LOL) if anyone would like to request ^^ (make sure its sfw as i am a minor!!!)

This is sick. This is just so sick.

Okay, maybe Zoro could be exaggerating. But what else is supposed to think, when you, the you who he has feelings for, is in the kitchen with Sanji, the annoying cook who he bickers with at least 5 times a day?

And especially since the day Sanji got him to blurt out about his feelings for you while he was drunk?

Zoro never thought he'd say it, but maybe he should lay low with the booze.

The swordsman can only grumble and huff as Luffy goes on and on about something—he hears something about Shanks. But all Zoro can do, is replay the memory of you sitting on the counter, right next to Sanji, who was peeling a few apples, and with a small frown on your face at that.

First, he thought maybe the cook had hurt you in any way. Then he realized it couldn't be, you'd be marching away from him. Then he assumed it could be you, with some personal trouble. But then you would always, without a fail, go to Zoro for help in that case.

Then, Zoro came to his final conclusion.

He had hurt you in some way.

But how could he? He'd never even consider the thought—he'd kill anyone who'd hurt you, because he cares—

No.

There's no way.

Sanji didn't tell you about his feelings... right?

Indeed he didn't. But Zoro doesn't know that.

What he also doesn't know, is the fact that you went to Sanji to talk about your best friend himself.

"He's been avoiding me," You mumble out weakly, picking at a few crumbs left on the counter. Gross, but hey, it's a pirate ship. There could be much worse things than a few specks of food. "I don't remember if I did anything wrong,"

Sanji knows you didn't. In fact, it was all his fault that Zoro was avoiding you. At the moment, having the usually stoic, cold swordsman admit his feelings for you with a dopey smile, the most loving tone as he describes every little thing about you, it seemed like the best thing on Earth. The man who everyone thought would never break, broke, all because of you.

But now, Sanji thinks it's stupid. He thinks it's stupid that Zoro's avoiding you because one person knew about his feelings. How cowardly could he be? But then again, he has absolutely no experience in relationships.

Sanji offers you an apple slice, his voice comforting and soft. "I don't think it's you," He smiles when you take the apple, taking a bite. "you could never wrong him."

"Then what is it?" Your voice is laced with such helplessness, a tone of worry and guilt buried underneath. It breaks Sanji's heart to see you like this. You play with the bracelet on your wrist, something Zoro had bought you when you were at a small town. You hadn't taken it off since, and it's been 3 months.

3 months marks your feelings for him as well.

"Why don't you ask him?"

At this question, your head whips to Sanji's direction, shaking instantly. "No! Hell no, it'd make him hate me even more!"

"Y/N..." Sanji's hands are suddenly on your shoulders, his eyes glistening with genuine care. It shocks you how serious he is about the whole situation. "he doesn't hate you. You might be the only one he genuinely feels safe with, you hear me?"

It's silent for a moment, as you bask in his words, the words in which hit you unexpectedly deeply. Yes, there have been times you've patched him up after a particularly harsh fight, yes, you both have shed tears together, and yes, he lets you touch his swords and lets you use—holy shit, Roronoa Zoro does care about you!

You decide to ask him, just as Sanji had suggested you do.

Zoro, on the other hand, has a different plan.

Despite the wallowing pit in his stomach, occupied by the green monster labeled as jealousy, Zoro knows you wouldn't go for Sanji. He's like an older brother to you.

But alas, he cannot control his emotions. And so, he's come up with possibly the worst plan ever.

Roronoa Zoro is going to flirt with you. The same way Sanji flirts with Nami.

It's stupid, he knows it's stupid, but Zoro is desperate. He's never felt this way towards anyone, ever, and his pride is way too big for him to ask advice from anyone on the crew.

"Zoro!"

Said man's heartrate doubles the moment he realizes it's your voice, your sweet, sweet voice calling out to him. Oh, how special he feels now, to have you by his side, to have you care for him and make him smile, how has he not realized how blessed he was just in your presence?

Okay, maybe Zoro was exaggerating.

He glances over his shoulder, attempting to act cool with a neutral face, as he murmurs. "What is it?"

As cold as ever, his gaze pierces yours. But... there's something different in it. It's colder.

Of course, this wasn't Zoro's intentions, clearly just trying to act cool and not confess his feelings for you right then and there, but the ice in his tone, his gaze, his aura, has your heart sinking.

Maybe he really did hate you now.

"Do you mind if we could talk?"

God, just the thought of having a chat with you has Zoro's heart soaring, his whole mind and being flooding with tenderness knowing that you'd always talk to him.

"What's up?" He sighs, fully turning around to you. His body language is the usual, calm and collected, the usual hand on his swords. Zoro is thankful you can't get a look inside, you'd be seeing a whole zoo and his running thoughts about how pretty you look today.

You step closer to Zoro.

"Did... did I do something wrong?"

This time, Zoro's heart twists in confusion.

Wrong? You? How could you ever think that?

"Because if I have, don't hesitate to tell me—"

"—your face."

What?

Holy shit, Zoro thinks you're ugly?

"...Is this your way of telling someone they're ugly?"

To be frank, you're kind of glad it's not about anything that you did, that would break you.

However, him directly telling you you're ugly? You never really cared if anyone called you ugly, but Roronoa Zoro? The only man you'd every trust? Your own crush?

Your heart twists in pain.

"No! No, that's not what I meant,"

Zoro's heartstrings tug at the sight of your pained face, the frown curling on your lips, he should never open his mouth ever again.

"I-I just meant that... you..."

He feels his cheeks warm up. Is he blushing?!

"you look really pretty today,"

Those were the very last words you would have expected coming out of Zoro's mouth.

A silence envelops the air. It's... awkward, to say the least, but a little endearing, with the both of you shyly looking away.

Zoro thinks you're pretty.

Absolutely stunning with your pursed lips trying to contain a smile, the glint in your eyes known as relief, and a little hint of mischief.

"Thanks," You mumble quietly, shrugging, though you're a far cry from casual.

Zoro mirrors you, leaning his hip onto the ship railing. "Don't mention it."

And you don't. Not for the next few hours, at least.

To say Zoro's plan of flirting with you failed, was quite the understatement. Sure, he finally got to say what he's been holding in for months, but he was expecting Sanji level flattery, the teasing smiles and confidence, not whatever the two of you went through.

Zoro feels like an idiot.

You, on the other hand, quite enjoyed it. it was genuine, and unlike Sanji's flirting, it's left you thinking about the moment for hours after it's passed. It seemed so genuine, carefully thought out (though it wasn't) and soft, something you didn't know Zoro could be.

You like Zoro's flirting much more than Sanji's. Though, that may be due to the fact that you have feelings for the swordsman.

The sun sets, leaving the pirate ship quiet (for once) and calm, just like the ocean, with it's soft waves and tranquil energy.

What isn't tranquil tonight, is you.

Instead of going to sleep, you've decided to have a drink. Yes, you may have stolen from Zoro's hidden stash in which he only showed you. Yes, you may have had more than one drink.

3, to be precise.

Why? Well, how are you supposed to go on the night? Simply thinking over and over about Zoro's words? His words that have left a permanent place in your heart? Your mind and soul?

How are you supposed to spend the night thinking about a man who you were sure hated you, who called you pretty and set your heart on fire, without a drink?

Besides, what's the worst that could happen?

Maybe the fact that Zoro wants a drink tonight as well.

Okay, yeah, he did say he was gonna lay low with the booze. But bad habits die hard. He's bound to drink a little here and there.

The moment he gets to the kitchen, Zoro is shocked at the sight of you, sitting on the counter, with a bottle of his beer in your hands. Your eyes are droopy, almost sleepy, a stupid lopsided smile spreading on your lips. The bottle has Zoro's name on it, written on the tape and pasted lousily over the brand name, and seeing you eye the writing and mumble his name has Zoro's heart pounding, filling with such unexpected fondness for you, ready to burst as such a volcano would.

"That's my booze,"

Your eyes blink tiredly, with no energy, as they trail to Zoro, and when you spot him, he can't believe the way your frown completely transforms into a bright grin.

"Zoro! Hey! Yeaahh, it has your name on it,"

He's shocked when you extend your hand with the bottle in it, shaking it side to side lightly. "Wanna sip?"

Your 'p' pops, and Zoro can't help but find it utterly endearing.

"Don't mind if I do," He murmurs with a small smile, wrapping his fingers around the bottle. He doesn't miss the way you maneuver your fingers to brush with his, catching your smile once they've made contact. His fingers are warm, and slightly rough.

Life of a swordsman, you suppose.

When he takes a sip of the bottle, you scooch over on the counter, tapping the space beside you. "Come join me!" Under the low light of the moon shining through the window, you look unexpectedly elegant, despite your tipsiness, the rays settling on your cheek just right.

Zoro complies, but simply leans against the counter. He takes another swig. "Any reason as to why you're here alone? Drinking my booze?"

"Been thinking," you say simply, reaching over to fiddle with a bandage on Zoro's forearm. The action is an abrupt source of serotonin to him.

His voice is laced with care and curiosity, as he asks you, "Thinking about what?"

"You,"

Oh how you never fail to get him shy. His eyes grow wide, but with the little alcohol in his system, he supposes it could work as liquid luck for tonight.

"Yeah? What about me?"

You chuckle, drunkenly, your eyes flitting from the bandage on his arm to his own eyes, no hints of hesitation or doubt. "How pretty you are,"

"You think I'm pretty?"

"Mhm," You nod. A hand is placed on your cheek, as you lean on it and continue to gaze at Zoro, almost dreamily. "your smile is pretty,"

At the mention of his smile, it appears almost instantly, and causes you to swoon even more, if it were possible. "You like my smile?"

You sigh, your own grin joining his. "Always,"

You decide to elaborate even more, deciding your sober self will have to deal with the embarrassment of rejection later.

"And you've got these freckles on your cheeks and nose, from all the hours in the sun, I always tell you to use sunscreen,"

It's true, you do.

Zoro only chuckles lightly, growing fonder and fonder of you every time you speak.

"and I love how ambitious you are to become the worlds greatest swordsman. You're always the best. To me, at least."

God, Zoro might kiss you right then and there.

"And you're so caring for everyone on the crew, don't deny it, I always see the way you do! Helping Usopp clean the ship and tie knots, listening to Luffy's nonsense rambling and storing all the maps for Nami, even for Sanji! Always buying the right ingredients for him," You breathe out a soft laugh. "and you care about me too. I think. I mean, you're always there when I have a problem personally or not, sometimes I think maybe... we could have some connection, you know? And other days... it seems like you despise me."

What?

How could you ever think he could despise you? Sure, there are some instances where you disagree with each other, but he does not hate you. He could never even think about it.

Before Zoro could comment on it, you carry on, voice growing louder and louder.

"Did I mention I love your smile?"

Zoro can't help but chuckle, reaching over to brush a few strands of your hair from your eyes. Wow, that took him more confidence than he thought.

"Yes, you have, Y/N."

"Oh... then let me mention it more," A sheepish smile grazes your lips, as you lean in close to observe his smile once you realize he is.

"And your lips. They're pretty too,"

Your eyes squint as you lean in closer, so close that your noses brush against one another. Zoro doesn't find the will in him to lean in, neither to pull back either. He simply sits there, his heart growing softer and softer when you purse your lips and tilt your head, shaking it.

"they look lonely," you state. "wanna meet mine?"

Oh, you're cute.

With the confident, almost cocky smile on your lips, eyes growing wider and wider as Zoro starts laughing.

Through your drunken eyes, seeing him smile is one thing. One thing enough to set you rambling and rambling about how much you enjoy it. Hearing him laugh? You could talk about it for hours, but you'd have too many things to say at once, you'd be left speechless. And that's exactly what happens at the moment, as you're left gaping at the sweet melody of his laughs, simply keeping your loving gaze on him.

"I'm not kidding, Zoro." You mumble. "I love you, I do."

For months, Roronoa Zoro has been so unsure about himself around you. Is he enough? Will he ever be enough? But now, hearing you state that you love him, he's sure. He loves you too, more than he could ever comprehend, and he won't doubt himself anymore.

He leans in, bumping your foreheads together clumsily. Though it hurts for a moment, it's fond, caring, as he smiles softly at your drunk state.

You could just be drunk right now.

None of this could be true.

Zoro doesn't care. If it's true or not, there has to be a reason you're telling him this. He'll ask you when you're sober.

Speaking of, "I won't kiss you," He says.

Your heart plummets to the ground, you can feel it deep in your chest, crashing through the base of the ship and sinking to the bottom of the sea, buried under such hurt hearing his words.

It lifts a moment later, however, as he places his lips on your cheek lovingly, a kiss to your forehead following.

"not when you're drunk. Don't wanna take advantage of you,"

"But you're not—"

"—I know, but it won't feel the same,"

Really, all Zoro wants to do, is place just one kiss on your lips, your lips that pout as you look up at him, hold you so closely to him, finally accept his feelings and make a move.

But, he'll wait for the morning. He'd wait forever just for you.

And as he leaves, warning you to stop drinking his booze, you're left... with a half heart. Half full with love, knowing Zoro could very much feel the same way for you, half empty, sad to have made so much effort (getting drunk should not be the way to confess to your crush) just for him to leave you hanging.

That's on you, you suppose.

He makes a very good point about the whole 'taking advantage' thing.

You guess you'll be too much of a coward when you wake up sober, too scared to fully confess, too scared to even look at him.

Zoro could not disagree more. He swears, the moment the sun has risen and you're awake, he's going to make you his. All his to hold, all his to take care of and protect, all his to love.

And as the day starts, both your minds are instantly flooded with thoughts of the other. The moment you see him, yawning as he listens to Luffy's rambling, your heart starts racing.

You don't remember that much from last night.

All you remember is the feeling of Zoro's warm lips on your skin, his caring gaze, and the ridiculous amount of alcohol you had drank. Sure, it was a far cry from how much Zoro would usually drink, but it's still a big amount to you.

Zoro has last night's events imprinted in his mind, every lingering glance he sends your way, every shy smile the two of you share, the way you scurry away quickly with an embarrassed scrunch of your nose, it takes him back to the night.

And finally, some alone time.

You find Zoro in the kitchen, checking on his booze stash, the one you had invaded the night before.

"Sorry about that, by the way," You call out, announcing your presence.

Zoro's heart soars just at the sound of your voice, small, almost guilty, and when he turns around, seeing you sit on the counter, just as you had last night, he can't stop the smile from tugging his lips upward. "It's no problem," He shrugs. "you'd never bother me,"

Roronoa Zoro, the lone wolf, the harsh swordsman saying that to you says a lot.

He approaches your figure slowly, growing more and more confident once he's realized that's exactly what you want. It's exactly what he wants too.

Finally, he's stopped right in front of you, your knees brushing slightly against his shirt. You look down at your hands placed on your laps, too shy to say anything, nor even look up at him.

"Hey," A sudden touch at your chin shocks you, and you eventually melt against his hold as he tilts your head up to meet his eyes. Like a magnet, you grow closer collectively, up until Zoro has both his hands sitting by your hips, your noses once again brushing.

This scene seems familiar.

You conclude it's what had been done last night, when he had kissed along the skin of your cheeks.

"I'm not drunk anymore," You whisper out.

Zoro chuckles, causing your entire being to wave with warmth of safety and comfort. "Yeah, I can see that."

"So you gonna give me that kiss or—"

Zoro's lips feel much warmer than you expected. They feel complete, pressed against your softly, almost hesitantly. The moment your fingers graze against his jaw, he relaxes, leaning in deeper to not only kiss your lips, but your entire soul, with love and solace, finally coming to terms with his feelings.

God, does Roronoa Zoro love you so much. He loves the way your hands creep up to mess up his (already disheveled) hair, the sigh you let out against his lips, the way you chase his lips once he's pulled away.

"What exactly did I say last night?" You mumble against his lips once he's pulled away, grabbing at his hand to play lightly with his fingers.

"Well, you mentioned how much you loved my smile," Zoro chuckles. There he goes once again, with his pretty smile and laugh, leaving you speechless and starstruck. "like, a lot."

"Did I mention that I love you?"

Zoro feels a warmth bubble from his stomach, feeling it envelop his chest, his arms and fingers when you finally intertwine your hands in a lock, his cheeks as they redden, and his lips as he finally gives you one last flash of the smile you claim to adore so much.

It's love.

"Yeah," He leans in to press your foreheads together. "I think I love you more,"

[deerspherestudios]

Hi there! I just wanted to let you know that I love your games! Mushroom Oasis especially has an especially place in my heart. Mychael is such an interesting character and one of my favorite types of yanderes—not violent towards his object of affection but still manipulative and willing to cross lines even if he feels guilty about it. Thank you so much for the work you have done; it’s obvious this game is a labor of love and I am looking forward to see how the story progresses.

In the meantime, I have to ask, do you think there might be a future option where the player can cook for Mychael? Totally okay if that is a little too specific. Cooking is just a love of mine and I love to cook for people I love and I feel that is something that Mychael would appreciate.

Also—and forgive me if you have answered this already—but I was curious to see where Mychael’s affection lands on the scale you created by the end of day 3. Or would there be more than one answer since it seems actions taken on this day might start to split between the platonic and romantic routes.

Thank you again for your time and for creating this wonderful game. Your art is so lovely and you have a real knack for fun character design.

HELLO!! Thank you so much for the kind words!! For me personally I've never been a fan of "if I can't have you no one can <3" type yanderes so knowing that it's a shared sentiment means a lot!!

I actually have something of an idea where MC does something nice for Mychael for a change in Day 4!

It was closer to buying a gift and the players can choose what they'd get for him but adding a cooking/baking option (or a more diverse set of gifts rather than just shopping for it) seems like a good idea! As usual the script is still cooking so we'll see!

As for the charts, they're answered here and explained here!

Also,,, idk if you'll ever read the addition below but I'm holding back on gushing rn because uh, this is for you personally but it's basically an appreciation post for being one of my fave authors <3!!!:

AAAA A A 11 !! ??

I'm gonna try and articulate myself in the best way I can but I have been a FAN of your writing since??? Gosh, 2015??? I was following your blog back when the pfp was a torchic (and a treecko i think??) and the header was Swiggity swiff Gotta Yiff ?? Idk if you're comfortable with people knowing of your writing but let me know if I should edit anything here!!!

I LOVED your writing so much it was silly and witty but you can do drama and heart and spicy just as well it was a major inspiration!!! I genuinely though it was a little goof when I saw you were following my blog the other day and THEN YOU SEND ME AN ASK??? IM, , , THROUGH THE ROOF, I would mention my fav fics of yours by name but I'd be outing myself but the scope is huge <3

I've been thinking of how to respond to this all DAY and decided to just be honest but but just know I love what you do <3 Admittedly idk if you still write these days but either way I hope you're doing well!!!! <3

[syoddeye]

consequence / ink

price x f!reader | 1.6k words series directory tags: alcohol, miscommunication (resolved) a/n: john is a down bad, as the youths would say. thank you to my beloved @/pfhwrittes for britpicking. ☕

her cast is gone. a sleeve hides the arm, but it’s clearly off.

john holds the door for a customer, unsure if he ought to take another step or retreat while he can. he tried to compose a text on the flight, on the drive, in the shower. a heads-up, a ‘hello, i’ve returned, i’m sorry, don't worry about my face when you see it’—but he couldn’t. somehow, he thought simply turning up would be better.

when she spots him, the look on her face says a text would’ve been the right call.

ah, well.

she glares over the other man’s shoulder as he pays. he’s truly awful because it only makes him happier to see her. if she didn’t care, her face would be a blank slate.

the man takes a short eternity to move to the end of the bar. john checks to ensure he isn’t holding up a queue he knows isn’t there, if only to buy another second—

“yurbeck.” she blurts out.

“sorry?”

slower, she repeats herself, “you’re back.”

“i am. you’re healed up.” 

“you’re not.”

the black eye he sports is ugly but faded. yellowish, with ugly splotches of blood still pooled beneath the skin. he’d like to say, you should see the other guy, but the bastard’s probably jaguar shit by now. instead, he shrugs. “looks worse than it feels. can we grab a drink when you’re off?”

she glances and frowns at her coworker, who’s clearly listening in over the noise of the espresso machine and sighs. her uncertainty is as plain as day.

“no.”

alright. damage control. he can fix this, he thinks, heart crashing into his gut. he didn’t leave her on bad terms. “listen, i know—”

she interrupts a second time. “we’ll go to mine.”

his mouth shuts, teeth clacking. he won’t argue with that.

~~

before you leave the café, you check your last exchange.

>> thanks for dinner the other night. i had a wonderful time. unfortunately, i won’t be by for a bit.

> ominous > prison?

>> not quite. work. i won’t be able to text.

> well don’t be gone too long > i might forget your order

it’s ridiculous, in hindsight, all your worrying over a man you assumed ghosted you. a regular you took a stupid leap of faith for. the shopping trip was a way to test the waters, and despite an awkward intensity he seemed desperate to hide and his bad jokes, john charmed you. even when you extended the exam to your place, he passed. no snide comments about cece or the decor. he helped with cooking without being asked. washed the dishes. it was a wonderful time. he said it. you believed it.

but two months isn’t ‘a bit’. it’s a disappearing act.

you say as much, as annoyed with yourself as you are with him. he quietly concedes he could have explained better. you tell him friends don’t go MIA for weeks. he laughs.

~~

“funny you should say that.”

“what?”

john stares hard at her profile as they walk. this part is always hard. pivotal. he puts it simply: “i’m in the military—special forces. that’s why i was ‘MIA’, as you put it.”

her brows raise, but she doesn’t falter. “oh.”

his lip curls. he’s been cussed out, fawned over, and ditched entirely for sharing his profession. no one usually reacts so little. it’s a divisive topic. everyone’s got an opinion. 

“that’s it? oh?” john echoes, trying to tease something out. he once listened to her harsh critique of the illegibility of packaging at the café—he cannot imagine her indifference as genuine. “you can ask questions, y’know.”

“okay. where were you? what were you doing?”

crawling on my belly through mud and fending off giant cockroaches. shooting. getting shot at.

“seeing the sights, meeting people.”

that withering glare returns, but it’s shorter-lived this time. she huffs. “see, i assumed ‘special forces’ means it’s the type of military business you don’t get answers about.”

“yes and no. i can’t compromise my clearance.”

“what can you tell me?”

he smiles when she sneaks a look, irritation giving way to curiosity. “i sunburn very easily.”

she snorts. “no way, not with that complexion.”

“and, i have thirty, forty mosquito bites where the sun doesn’t shine.”

john’s bruised cheek hurts from grinning as she laughs. this is the first time he’s heard it uninhibited, neither bitten back nor politely smothered by a hand. he needs to brush up on his humor. he needs to hear that sound more often.

“sorry. i’m a mess.”

john aligns their shoes and removes his jacket. it’s hardly messy. her flat appears mostly unchanged, except for the small mountain of citrus on her dining table. a single banana. she starts to sweep it into a plastic bin, but he catches a stray orange, and his thumb drags over an odd indentation. he turns it in hand, eyebrows pitching at the sight of a rose etched into the skin.

“is this…?” 

he watches her press a machine into a foam insert, then hurriedly zip a case shut. the look on her face clearly says he wasn’t supposed to see that. 

she takes the orange and shrugs. “something i’m having fun with. a new hobby.”

“solid work for a hobby.”

“don’t tease.”

“you’d know if i was.” 

she excuses herself to change after setting the bin aside, stepping over a wary cece. the cat stands guard at the mouth of the hall. unimpressed. he can practically hear the and where have you been?

john gives the cat a fond but tight smile. he’ll need to get in good with her again, too, it seems. he checks the water bowl before settling onto the couch. cece follows to investigate, her tiny black nose tapping his knuckles when he offers a hand. 

her aloofness swiftly melts after he coaxes her into his lap, though he suspects that the subsequent stabbing of her kneading paws is her brand of punishment. little thing seems to relish it.

“you can move her if she’s too much.”

his face lifts, and he wonders if the cat feels the palpitations in his chest.

given what he’s only just learned, he shouldn't be surprised, but the patchwork tattoos decorating her arms steal his breath anyway. the impulse to touch is instant. to trace every fine line and jealously ask where she had them done and by whom. 

he grips the arm of the couch hard, and cece pauses her biscuit-making, eyes half-lidded and judgmental. dismissing the cat, he nonchalantly places a throw pillow over his lap and scrubs a hand over his face.

the plot thickens.

“nice ink. didn’t realize you had any. makes sense.”

“yep. twenty-one. mm. no. twenty-two.”

far more than what the shirt shows. “any damage?” 

her head tilts as she cracks the refrigerator, pulling two bottles by their necks. “nope. don’t got anything there.”

john takes a beer as she plops down. she tucks her legs beneath, and he studies the artfully drawn black shapes on the one arm: a network of barbed thorns and flowers, a woman contorted into a skull, a mouse sleeping in a sardine tin, a stamp, and several stars.

“do you have any?” she asks, taking a swig.

nothing as lovely as hers. the first and last instance john had time to sit for a piece, he was clean-shaven and further from the thick of it. but she’s shown him hers; returning the favor is only polite. “one.” he sets the bottle aside to ruck up his left sleeve. she shifts, and the tips of his ears redden. fuck he wishes it wasn’t so—

“traditional. ha, had you pinned for the type. cute.”

cute. the ink has faded into muted tones, the lines softened. the mermaid’s once coy smile blurs into a vague shape, and now that he looks at it, the anchor’s shank is slightly crooked. the subtle, natural distortions of time make the mermaid perched in the curved arm of the anchor appear as aged as his face.

“can i?” 

she extends a hand. has she touched him before? intentionally?

“yes.”

her fingers follow the lines without an ounce of hesitation or hovering. the corner of her mouth quirks when john instinctively squeezes his bicep, the mermaid’s blue tail flexing under her thumb. he can’t tell what she’s thinking despite watching her pretty eyes. he simply laments he doesn’t have more to show her if only to keep her this close.

john’s focus narrows to the heat of her hand as it moves. he imagines five perfect ovals burning into his arm hair where she grabs and adjusts her view. that his skin might melt, and her palm would graft to his limb for all time, barring surgical intervention.

the first words out of her mouth in a minute are a bucket of cold water.

“six inches, right?”

“what?”

her gaze flicks up. “from the tip to the base?” a prolonged beat passes before she adds, “or, i guess, to the fins of her tail?”

she’s gonna be the death of me. 

“i think so.”

“it’s aged well.”

“ah. you’re taking the piss.”

“you’d know if i was.” she echoes. “i’m serious. i’m guessing it’s fifteen or twenty years old? it could look worse.” her nails scritch in a tight circle for a half-second, long enough that he might combust, but she pulls away and swirls her beer. “why’d you stop at one?”

“busy schedule. and i don’t want to be too identifiable.”

“yes. the chops are the subtler choice.” she smiles behind the bottle. “now i’m taking the piss.”

john thinks of precisely three responses to her cheek, none of which make it to his tongue. he sips slowly, catching on a slip of skin when she stretches, the hem of her shirt lifting just so. a tempting black line practically hooks his eye before it disappears.

“oh, you’re funny. got me curious, though. which one was your first?”

her legs straighten, and she pushes to her feet. “it’ll be easier if i show you.”

[wabatle]

Wawawawawawawbatle i am here to req a chigiri hyoma, nagi seishiro, and bachira meguru ! :3

Im thinking them with a gf who like cooks and cleans and kind of like wife material? But when char ever brings it up she gets all shy and flustered

Ty!

☆~Isagi, Chigiri, Bachira, Nagi, and Reo with a wife material girlfriend

wabatle nonsense:

i added reo and then was like: well i might as well add isagi

so yeah

edit: TY FOR 100 LIKES (also 100+ notes)

edit edit: HELLO??? TY FOR 200 NOTES!!

edit edit edit: TYSM FOR 300 NOTES!! THIS IS CRAZY

warnings: none~

☆~Yoichi Isagi

Honestly…Isagi doesn't really mind what you do, he just loves you anyway

But, with you being so amazing and all, he just wants to love you more

He admires you and how quick you are to respond to things, like if he spills something you're quick to clean it up

Because of this, he wants to compliment you on a regular basis, but feels bad because of how flustered it makes you

He also loves how your food tastes, partly because it's made by you, but mostly because you make it so darn well

He can't help but tell you how good your cooking is, but he'll apologize right after because your face is so red

☆~Hyoma Chigiri

Chigiri thinks you're adorable, especially when you get all red when he tells you so

So, sometimes he teases you for it, but other times he'll tell you there's nothing to be embarrassed about and that you're just amazing and then you respond with being even more flustered

I'd like to think that everyday when he's on his way home, all he can think about is getting to eat your cooking. Like, seriously, this man is on his way home thinking, “I wonder what (name) cooked tonight… whatever it is, it's gonna be so good, as per usual from my amazing (name).”

And how you keep the house clean— genuinely he couldn't appreciate you more.

☆~Meguru Bachira

Bachira literally loves this, and you, so much!!

He loves how spotless you keep the house, especially because when he helps you cook, he makes a mess

He also tends to rip his shirts and jerseys a lot, and he loves that you fix them for him so that way here can wear them again

Like Chigiri, he also literally dreams about your food. Like when you're sleeping, wake up and you'll catch him literally drooling while dreaming about your food

He also likes it when you take a cloth and wipe his face if he got dirt or anything on it while he was practicing

He would of course tease you for being so flustered, but he'll apologize in a silly way and continue to compliment you

☆~Seishiro Nagi

Nagi appreciates how much you take care of him, because he finds it to be such a hassle

So, when he gets home to find freshly made food on the table, he can't help but want to kiss you

He actually loves your food though, he thinks that you should open a restaurant because people from all around the world would come to eat your out-of-this-world cooking

And then, you clean up after him perfectly, leaving him to be able to go to bed

And he walks into a spotless room, every speck of clothing or dust taken care of

Yup… he really is gonna want to cling to you as a thank you

☆~Reo Mikage

Ughhhghfh my man

Okay but in all seriousness, he appreciates and loves you for everything!

Reo loves that you're always willing to clean, but he wishes that you would ask him to help every once in a while

He does really like coming home to a hot meal waiting for him, but he has to crash into your arms first

Then, while he's eating, he watches you clean and sweep around the house, but what he really wants is you to sit down and enjoy the meal with him

He'll tell you how much he loves you, not intending for you to get so flustered, so he'll kiss you lots as an apology, but tell you he seriously needs to compliment you

[tainsan]

misfits XIII

⇥ pairing: ot8 ateez x fem! reader

⇥ warnings: self deprication but thats it I think :O, mentions of suggestive content

⇥ word count: 9.1k

⇥ a/n: hello guys, it has been a while. sorry for my inactivity and all the people waiting for new chapters, i havent been very well the past few months. i am okay though!! i hope you enjoy this chapter even though it is somewhat of a filler

⇢ masterlist ⇠

previous chapter ⇠ ⇢ next chapter...

Finishing typing the last sentence of your assignment, a sense of accomplishment washes over you. But even in that moment of triumph, the proposition from your roommates continues to occupy your thoughts. It had been a distraction throughout the day, and it had affected your ability to concentrate on your work.

The internal struggle you are experiencing is rooted in a mix of emotions. You yearned for the affection and love your roommates offered, wanting to be part of a relationship that felt incredibly meaningful. But doubts lingered in the back of your mind, like shadows in the corners of your thoughts.

‘Am I good enough?’ The question had haunted you throughout the day. You wondered if you were deserving of their affections, if you could truly measure up to their standards. Insecurity gnaws at you, and you can’t help but compare yourself to the admirers and fans your roommates had.

The cryptic message you had received added another layer of uncertainty. You were aware of the intense scrutiny and potential backlash that came with being in a relationship with the ‘famous’ campus group. The fear of facing hate and criticism from others weighs heavily on your mind, making you wonder if you have the strength to endure it.

Your curtains are open, allowing the dim, amber light from the streetlights outside to filter into your room. It's nighttime, and the glow of the streetlights casts soft, gentle patterns on your walls. The air in your room is crisp, and the faint aroma of dinner cooking wafts through the air, creating a cosy and inviting atmosphere. Your laptop sits on your desk, its screen illuminating your face as you sit in quiet contemplation, lost in your thoughts and the gentle ambiance of the night.

Closing your laptop, your roommates' proposition still loomed large, a complex and challenging choice that required careful consideration. You knew that the path ahead wouldn't be easy, but you also knew that your feelings for them were genuine and deep. 

Suddenly, a knock resounds on your door.

"____, dinner is ready," San's voice reaches you through the wooden door.

You close your laptop and push back your chair, acknowledging his call. "Coming," you respond, but the weakness in your voice doesn't escape San's notice.

Stepping out of your room, you find San waiting for you in the hallway, his brow furrowed and concern evident in his eyes.

"Are you okay?" he asks, his voice gentle, as he takes in the change in your usual behaviour.

You pause for a moment, meeting San's gaze with a mixture of gratitude and apprehension. It is clear that he sensed something was amiss, and you appreciated his concern. You manage a faint smile, but it doesn't quite reach your eyes as you offer a reassuring nod. 

"I'm fine," you say, a small white lie slipping past your lips. You didn't want to burden San with your worries or concerns, not when they were already so caring and supportive.

“You aren't good at lying, sweetheart.” San's expression remains filled with concern, the nickname making your heart skip a beat. 

"It's nothing, San," you say with a forced smile, though it doesn't quite reach your eyes. You walk past him into the dining room without making much eye contact, leaving him with a gnawing feeling of concern in the pit of his stomach.

San watches you go, his brows furrowing deeper with worry. He knows you well enough to sense when something is wrong, and tonight, something definitely doesn't seem right. Your usual enthusiasm and energy have been replaced by a quiet reserve that's completely out of character.

As he makes his way to the kitchen, he can't help but feel a growing unease. San has come to know that you have a tendency to keep your worries to yourself, often trying to spare others from your burdens. But tonight, it feels different, and he can't shake the feeling that you might be going through something you're not sharing.

In the kitchen, he finds Hongjoong, who's busy with some last-minute preparations for dinner. San doesn't waste any time and approaches him, his voice low and filled with concern. 

"Hey, Joong, have you noticed anything strange about ____? She's been acting really off tonight."

Hongjoong, focused on his task, pauses and looks at San, his brows furrowing in response to the worried tone in San's voice. 

"Off? What do you mean?"

San briefly explains how you've been unusually quiet and distant, and how your smile seems forced. Hongjoong's expression shifts from curiosity to deep concern as he listens.

"Thanks for letting me know, San," Hongjoong says, his own worry now evident. He sets down the utensils he was holding and sighs, his thoughts consumed by concern for you. "We should keep an eye on her. Maybe after dinner, we can talk to her and see if there's anything she wants to share, just in case there’s something bothering her.."

Just as they're discussing their concerns, Mingi, who had been in the hallway and overhears their conversation, joins them with a troubled expression. He hadn't meant to eavesdrop, but the gravity of the situation had drawn him in.

"What's going on, guys?" Mingi asks, his voice laced with worry. "Is something wrong with ____?"

San and Hongjoong exchange a glance, realising that their concerns had been overheard. Hongjoong explains the situation to Mingi, filling him in on your unusual behaviour and the sense of unease that had settled over the house.

Mingi's expression darkens with worry, as Hongjoong and San scurry to continue preparing for dinner, Mingi takes a deep breath, feeling the weight of his words pressing on him. He clears his throat, his voice steady but filled with concern.

"I've noticed it too," Mingi begins, his eyes darting between San and Hongjoong. “She was really quiet when we walked home today, usually she talks about her day in detail…”

Mingi’s voice trails off and Hongjoong notices he has more to say.

“What is it, Mingi?” He asks, concerned.

"I can’t help thinking about what she told us the other day, about her depression and the night up on the rooftop.”

San leans against the counter, his brow furrowed in sadness as he remembers your heart piercing words. 

“I'm worried that whatever's bothering her tonight might be related to that. I hope it's nothing too serious, but... I can't help but worry if it's making her have those thoughts again.” Mingi lowers his voice and walks towards the two, “her anxiety has been really bad recently, she had an extreme anxiety attack a while ago, I thought her mind had slipped completely."

San and Hongjoong exchange glances, their worry deepening as they absorb Mingi's revelation.

Hongjoong nods, his expression determined. "We need to talk to her, then. Make sure she knows we're here for her, no matter what."

Mingi and San both agree, and their shared worry for you becomes the driving force behind their preparations for dinner. They want tonight to be an opportunity for you to open up, to share whatever is weighing on your mind, and to remind you that you're not alone in this journey. Mental health is something they take seriously, and they're ready to offer their support in any way they can.

Seonghwa, who is seated beside you, shoots you a concerned glance as he notices your quietness as you enter the room, along with your distant expression. 

"Hey," he says softly, reaching out to gently touch your hand. "Is everything okay?"

You blink, snapping out of your thoughts and offer Seonghwa a faint smile. "Yeah, I'm just... thinking," you reply, your voice trailing off as you continue to wrestle with your internal turmoil.

Across from you, Wooyoung, Yeosang, and Jongho exchange worried glances, their usual lively banter subdued by the palpable tension that seems to emanate from you. They had all picked up on your unease the second you entered the room and were extremely concerned about your well-being.

Yeosang, who is sitting at the head of the table, clears his throat and speaks up, his voice gentle yet filled with genuine concern. "You've been really quiet today. Is there something on your mind?"

You glanced around the table at the faces of your roommates, each one displaying a mix of worry and care. They have been so patient and understanding, and you can’t help but feel a deep sense of gratitude for the bonds you had formed with them over time. You appreciate their concern, yet it feels almost overwhelming for them to be questioning you.

Taking a deep breath, you realise that they will likely not drop the situation until they have an answer. 

"Just a busy day," you reply, attempting to brush off their concern with a forced smile. However, you know that your roommates can see right through your facade. 

"You can't lie very well," Jongho's soft voice speaks up from in front of you, his eyes holding a gentle concern that's difficult to ignore. You can feel the weight of his worry pressing down on you, and it only intensifies your own anxieties. 

Before you can respond, the atmosphere in the room shifts noticeably. San, Mingi, and Hongjoong enter the dining area, their faces reflecting the tension in the room. They exchange quick glances, and it's clear that the others have noticed your change in demeanour.

Wooyoung, Yeosang, Seonghwa, and Jongho keep their eyes on you, their worry palpable. They know you well enough to recognize when something is bothering you, and it's evident that your previous statement didn't satisfy their concerns. They exchange subtle glances with each other, a silent form of communication that you're all too familiar with.

You continue to insist that you're okay, not wanting your concerns to burden them. You don't want them to know about the malicious messages you've been receiving, along with the fear of not being good enough. You were on the verge of saying yes to their proposition until those messages arrived, and they've left you feeling frightened and uncertain.

Despite your attempts to reassure everyone, they keep pressing you, their genuine concern for your well-being on full display. 

San leans in slightly closer, his eyes searching yours as he says, "love, we're just worried about you. You don't seem like yourself tonight."

Mingi adds, "Yeah, you're usually the one who brings the energy to the group. We hate to see you like this."

Hongjoong chimes in, "If something's bothering you, you can always talk to us. We're here for you."

Seonghwa nods in agreement, his expression soft and caring. "You don't have to carry your burdens alone, ____."

As their questions and probing looks continue, you can feel your patience wearing thin. You're caught in a whirlwind of emotions, torn between wanting to open up and fearing their reaction to your struggles. The thought of burdening them with your problems only adds to your anxiety.

Finally, you stand up, your irritation bubbling to the surface. "I said I'm fine, okay?" 

Your voice is sharper than you intended, and you can see the hurt in their eyes. You immediately regret your outburst, but the pressure of the situation has become too much to bear. “I’m sorry, I didn't mean to…”

Without another word, you turn and walk out of the room, the sounds of their worried whispers following you like a haunting melody.

Leaving the dining room, the tense atmosphere you've left behind still lingers in your mind. You're not sure where you're going or what you plan to do; you just need to escape the overwhelming concern of your roommates for a moment.

However, as you turn the corner towards your room, you unexpectedly bump into Yunho, who seems to be on his way out of his bedroom. His eyes immediately catch the distress on your face, and he can sense that something is wrong.

"Tiny, wait," Yunho calls out, his voice laced with worry as he takes a step towards you, trying to scan what is happening.

But you're already moving, your steps quick and determined. You can't handle the concern of another person right now, not when you're struggling to hold yourself together. With a mumbled apology, you hurriedly walk past Yunho, your heart racing with a mixture of emotions. 

Yunho watches you for a moment, concern etched across his face, before realising that you're not going to stop. He knows he can't force you to talk if you're not ready, but he can't shake the feeling that something is seriously bothering you. Yunho makes his way to the dining room, his heart heavy.

Back in your room, you shut the door behind you, your heart heavy with a mixture of emotions. You're not hungry anymore, and the thoughts of the messages and your own insecurities continue to haunt you. The room feels suffocating as you wrestle with your fears, wishing you could find a way to escape them and open up to your roommates about what's truly been bothering you.

Meanwhile, in the dining room, your roommates are clearly unsettled by your abrupt departure and your obvious distress. They exchange concerned glances, their worry for you evident in their expressions. 

Mingi is the first to break the silence, his voice filled with unease. "I'm assuming you all notice something is very wrong?" he asks, his brow furrowing.

Seonghwa and Wooyoung nod in agreement, both clearly affected by your behaviour. 

Seonghwa speaks up, his voice soft but laced with concern. "She's been distant all day. I thought it was just stress or something, but this is different."

San clenches his fists, his frustration and guilt bubbling to the surface. "We should've noticed something was wrong. She's been dealing with something, and we didn't even realise it."

Wooyoung places a comforting hand on San's shoulder, trying to calm him down. "San, don't blame yourself. We all missed it. What's important now is figuring out what's going on and how we can help her."

Yunho chimes in, "You're right, Wooyoung. We need to support her. She's one of us, and we can't let her go through this alone."

Yeosang adds, "I agree. We think we should give her some space for now, but we can't just leave her like this."

Jongho, ever the caring and empathetic one, speaks softly, "Maybe we should send someone to talk to her. Make sure she's okay."

Hongjoong nods, considering the options. "I'll go."

Yeosang offers, "And bring her some food. She didn't eat anything, and skipping meals won't help."

With a unanimous decision to have Hongjoong talk to you, your roommates feel a mix of concern and hope. They know that Hongjoong's leadership and caring nature make him the right choice to approach you in this delicate situation. 

As they continue their meal, their thoughts are with you, hoping that you'll open up to Hongjoong and that whatever is troubling you can be resolved. They also feel a sense of unity and support among themselves, knowing that they'll be there for you no matter what. Hongjoong finishes his meal quickly, determined to check on you and make sure you're okay.

-

In the confines of your room, tears stream down your cheeks as you huddle beneath your sheets. The weight of your emotions presses heavily on your chest, making it hard to breathe. Negative thoughts swirl in your head, each one more self-doubting and destructive than the last.

“Why did I snap like that?” You question yourself, your voice barely a whisper amidst the tears. "They're going to think I'm a burden, that I can't handle this."

You bury your face in your pillow, muffling your sobs as you contemplate the possibility that your roommates might stop liking you because of your outburst. It's a fear that gnaws at your heart, leaving you feeling vulnerable and alone.

Thoughts of inadequacy and worthlessness swirl relentlessly in your mind. You replay the dinner table scene over and over, each time emphasising how you snapped and how you failed to explain what's been troubling you. The fear of being a burden gnaws at your soul, and you're convinced that your roommates must be tired of dealing with your issues.

"Why can't I just be normal?" you whisper to yourself, your voice trembling with self-recrimination. "Why can't I handle this like everyone else?"

The tears continue to flow, unabated, as you feel like you're drowning in a sea of self-criticism. You wish you could push these thoughts away, but they cling to you like a relentless storm, obscuring any glimmer of hope or positivity.

In this moment, you long for someone to rescue you from the darkness, to pull you out of this suffocating abyss of negativity. You crave understanding and acceptance, but the fear that you'll never find it keeps you locked in a cycle of despair, feeling more alone than ever.

Just as you feel like you're being swallowed whole by your negative thoughts, a faint but unmistakable knock on your door breaks through the darkness. It's a sound that pierces through the gloom like a ray of light, a glimmer of hope that someone cares enough to check on you.

With a shaky breath, you sit up in your bed, wiping away your tears as you call out, "Come in."

The door opens slowly, and Hongjoong steps into the room, his expression a mix of concern and understanding. His presence alone feels like a lifeline, something to cling to in the midst of your emotional turmoil. The moment his eyes land on your tear stained face, his heart tugs in his chest, feeling as if it dropped to his stomach.

"Hey," he says softly, his voice filled with compassion.

You swallow hard, your throat still constricted from crying, but you manage to find your voice. "I... I'm sorry for how I acted earlier. It's just... I've been feeling overwhelmed, and I didn't know how to explain it."

Hongjoong takes a step closer, his eyes filled with empathy. "Shh, you don't have to apologise. We all have our moments, and we care about you. You're not a burden, ____."

"I'm sorry, Hongjoong," you murmur, your voice heavy with emotions.

Hongjoong moves closer, his heart racing with the need to provide you with comfort. He stands before you at your bedside, hesitating for a moment before finally taking a seat beside you.

"Can I touch you?" he asks gently, his eyes filled with concern.

Looking at him, you see the glaze in his eyes. He looks nervous. You nod in response, granting him permission to offer his support. 

Hongjoong takes your hand in his, his touch warm and reassuring. His heart pounds in his chest, a silent declaration that he cares deeply about your well-being.

"You don't have to apologise, ____," he says softly, his voice filled with understanding. "We're here for each other, through the good times and the bad."

Your eyes meet his, and you can see the sincerity and compassion reflected in his gaze. It's a comfort to know that you have someone who genuinely cares about your struggles.

The contrast between the authoritative and sometimes stern Hongjoong you've seen before and the gentle, comforting side he's showing now is striking. It makes your heart flutter and leaves you feeling surprisingly vulnerable. 

You've always respected Hongjoong's leadership within your group of roommates. He exudes confidence and commands attention effortlessly. But seeing this softer, caring side of him makes you realise there's so much more to him than meets the eye. 

As he sits beside you, offering his support and understanding, you can't help but be drawn to him more than you have felt before. His caring demeanour is like a soothing remedy for your troubled soul, and you find yourself appreciating him even more.

"I appreciate you being here," you admit, your voice quivering with emotion.

Hongjoong responds with a warm, reassuring smile, his thumb gently caressing the back of your hand. 

"Anytime," he reassures you.

Hongjoong continues to offer you his comforting presence, yet he notices the lingering sadness in your eyes. He can tell that there's something more troubling you, something beyond what you've shared so far.

“I would appreciate knowing what is going on. We want to help you.”

You hesitate for a moment, struggling with whether or not to open up about the malicious messages. But his sincerity and the trust you've built in this vulnerable moment encourage you to share.

"It's…” you begin to talk, yet you feel the familiar pit of anxiety forming in your chest.

Hongjoong turns towards you, his worry evident as he scans your slightly shaking body.

“It’s okay ____.” 

“I want to say yes.” you say, “to be yours.”

The weight of your words settles in the air, and for a moment, time seems to stand still. Hongjoong's heart races, and the room feels charged with a new energy. Hearing you express your feelings for him so openly and sincerely is something he never expected, yet it's the most beautiful surprise he could have imagined.

His eyes lock onto yours, filled with a mixture of surprise, joy, and a deep, profound affection. He searches your gaze as if trying to read every emotion, every thought that lies beneath the surface. Yet when he sees the hurt expression on your face, he wonders what else you have to say.

“I don't know if I can.” 

The moment your words leave your lips, a heavy silence settles between you and Hongjoong. His expression shifts from one of hopeful anticipation to a mixture of surprise, disappointment, and hurt. It's as if the air has been sucked out of the room, leaving behind a palpable tension.

Hongjoong tries to find his words, but his voice catches in his throat, and for a brief moment, he can't meet your gaze. He looks away, his jaw clenched as he processes your rejection.

“I… I see.” he finally manages to say, “why… is that?”

“The messages," you finally admit, your voice shaky. 

Immediately Hongjoong is confused about your statement. He doesn't understand what the messages have to do with you rejecting him.

“What messages?”

You take a deep breath, your eyes welling up with tears as you try to explain. "I've been receiving some weird messages… about all of you.”

“What do you mean? What do they say?” 

“Well, I only got one, but it was strange.” 

You show Hongjoong the message, "have fun with my boys…" and you witness as Hongjoong's eyes narrow in recognition, and his fists clench even tighter. 

It feels as if his world is crashing down on him as he pieces together the puzzle. Hongjoong's expression morphs into one of anger, his jaw tensing as he absorbs your words. The protective instinct within him flares, and he clenches his fists, visibly seething. He knows exactly who sent the messages. Despite his rising anger, he remains composed in front of you, not wanting to further burden you with his own emotions.

"It's okay, just ignore that message," Hongjoong says, and though he attempts to conceal his anger, you can sense the underlying frustration in his tone.

Your curiosity gets the better of you, and you press, "Hongjoong?"

He takes a deep breath before continuing, "Don't let other people's opinions define our relationship. It's about us and no one else."

“Hongjoong, I’m scared of starting a relationship with you guys.”

Hongjoong's expression softens as he senses your vulnerability. He places a gentle hand on your shoulder, offering a reassuring squeeze.

"I understand," he replies softly. "Starting a relationship with us might seem daunting, but remember that we care about you deeply. We'll be here every step of the way, and you don't have to face anything alone. Please don't worry about what others think. It is just us in this, no one else."

His words provide you with a sense of security, and you begin to realise that you have a strong support system with the boys.

You let out a sigh, your worries spilling out. "It's just... I'm afraid I'm not good enough for you guys. You're all so amazing, and I don't want to hold you back or bring any problems into your lives." voicing your worries, a wave of self-doubt begins to wash over you. 

Before you can delve further into your anxieties, Hongjoong moves with a surprising swiftness. He places a gentle hand under your chin, lifting your head to meet his eyes, effectively silencing your anxious thoughts. His touch is feather-light yet firm, a reassuring gesture that instantly grabs your attention.

A split second later, your breath catches as he leans down, his warm lips tenderly pressing against your forehead. The kiss feels like a soft promise, an unspoken reassurance that sends shivers down your spine. You're momentarily stunned by this unexpected display of affection, your heart racing in your chest.

Without any hesitation, he wraps his arms around you, pulling you close. The embrace is warm, secure, and filled with an undeniable tenderness that envelopes you entirely. It's as if his arms are a sanctuary, a place where your worries and doubts can find refuge.

"My treasure," he murmurs, his voice a gentle whisper against your ear. "You are more than good enough. You're unique and special in your own way. We care about you for who you are, not for any other reason. Please don't doubt yourself. We're here because we want to be, and we'll support you through everything. We love you."

In his embrace, you find refuge and a sense of belonging that you've been longing for. The weight of your worries slowly dissipates, replaced by the comforting warmth of Hongjoong's presence and the knowledge that you are cherished just as you are.

In his embrace, you begin to feel the weight of your worries slowly dissipate, replaced by a warm sense of belonging and acceptance.

"You love me?" You pose the question, the words hanging in the air, your heart racing with a mix of hope and trepidation. Hongjoong looks at you, his expression a blend of surprise and realisation, as if he's just spoken without fully thinking through his words.

Chuckling softly, he pulls away from you, a confident and sincere look on his face. 

"Yes, I do," he affirms, his voice steady and filled with genuine emotion, yet you can see he is nervous for your response.

“Hongjoong, I think I love you too.” you admit, your face flushing hot. 

“Fuck ____.” Hongjoong swears through his teeth, then looks away from you. You look at him confused, your eyes wide.

“What?” You ask, confused at his reaction, scared of what he will say.

Hongjoong turns to glance back at you, his eyes meeting yours, and in that moment, he feels as if he's teetering on the edge of losing his mind and sanity. 

Your wide, doe-like eyes, filled with a mix of curiosity and a hint of mischief, hold an inexplicable power over him. It's as though they can peer into the depths of his soul, unravelling the layers he's tried to keep hidden. He cannot seem to get over how adorable and innocent you look. The way your words have such an impact on him leaves his mind swirling with many thoughts.

“If you keep looking at me like that, I won't be able to hold back.”

His unexpected words leave you utterly shocked, the abruptness of the confession catching you off guard. Yet, the way they make you feel is nothing short of indescribable.

A rush of heat surges through you, starting from the tips of your fingers and toes, and spreading like wildfire throughout your body. Your cheeks flush as a wave of flustered embarrassment washes over you.

But beneath the shock and embarrassment, a more primal, intoxicating sensation takes hold. You feel an undeniable surge of desire, a raw, visceral attraction that courses through your veins. Your heart races in response to the unexpected intensity of the moment. Hongjoong's words have an electrifying effect on you, leaving you in a state of arousal that you can't quite ignore. It's as if the room has suddenly grown hotter, and every inch of your skin tingles with a newfound awareness of his presence.

In this moment of vulnerability and desire, you find yourself torn between your instincts and your rationality. His confession has unleashed a torrent of emotions that you never expected to confront, and the magnetic pull between you and Hongjoong is impossible to deny.

“Hongjoong,” you whisper, your fingertips on fire as you play with your clothes.

“We should discuss the relationship with the boys when you are ready with your answer.” Hongjoong says, quickly, trying to ignore the way his heart is pounding in his chest.

Suddenly, a profound realisation washes over you: there is seemingly nothing in this world capable of undermining the unbreakable bond you share with the boys. After years of yearning for one another's company, you are now reunited, and it feels as though no external influence could ever drive a wedge between you. While you are fully aware that maintaining relationships can be challenging, with the boys, it all seems effortless. There's a natural understanding between you, a deep knowledge of each other that makes everything feel remarkably smooth and naturally occurring.

Amidst your personal struggles with mental health, a lingering concern lingers in your mind; the worry that these challenges might adversely affect your relationship. However, the boys have consistently demonstrated their unwavering support, proving time and again that they not only embrace your struggles but are also somewhat professional at navigating such turbulent waters. Their understanding and expertise in handling these issues have become a reassuring pillar of strength, reinforcing the belief that your bond can withstand any storm that life may throw your way.

“I want to say yes.” 

Hongjoong's eyes, once covered with nervousness, now lit up with an intensity you had never seen before. It was as if a constellation of stars had suddenly burst into existence within his gaze, filling the room with their luminous glow.

“Come, we need to talk to the boys.” 

Hongjoong's touch was gentle as he clasped your hand, coaxing you off the bed. You yielded to his pull, your feet finding the floor. But there was something lingering, something unsaid that held you back. You tugged him slightly, your grip on his hand urging him to pause. Confusion knit his brows, and his concern was palpable in his searching gaze.

“You don't have to hold back.” you whisper, with some fear as to his reaction, yet you start to feel confident upon seeing Hongjoong’s flustered state.

"Doll," Hongjoong whispers, his voice a seductive murmur as he closed the distance between you. His desire was evident in the way his eyes smouldered with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. His words hung in the air, thick with promise, and they caught you off guard.

"Let's talk to the boys," he continued, his tone laced with anticipation, "and when the time is right, I’ll show you everything I have been waiting to do for years.”

The boldness of his statement sends a rush of arousal coursing through your body. It is as if a dormant fire had been ignited, and your heart races at the thought of what awaits. The anticipation of sharing your desires and fantasies with him, of finally giving in to the passion that had simmered between you for so long, leaves you breathless with longing.

“Let’s go.”

Hongjoong walks behind you as you step back into the kitchen where your roommates' eyes immediately turn toward you. There's a mix of relief and concern in their expressions, like they've been holding their breath until your return.

Wooyoung, who's drying dishes with Yeosang, flashes a warm smile your way, but his eyes are filled with concern. Seonghwa and Yunho, chatting at the counter, both turn towards you with wide smiles on their faces, but their gazes are searching, trying to read your mood. Mingi, Jongho, and San, who are seated at the island, exchange subtle glances, and it's clear they've been discussing something among themselves.

It's like a silent symphony of emotions playing out in their eyes, and you can sense their collective concern hanging in the air. You take a deep breath, realising that it's time to address the situation, to clear the air and let them in on your feelings, just as you've allowed Hongjoong to do. Before you can speak, they collectively pause what they're doing, waiting for you to make the first move, to share your thoughts and feelings.

“I’m sorry guys, for rushing out like that…” You begin to say, yet before you can continue, a chorus of ‘It’s okay’ and ‘don't worry’s sound out, filling you with an intense feeling of gratitude.

"I, uh, wanted to say something," you begin, your voice carrying a mix of nervousness and anticipation. The room falls into a hushed silence, all eyes fixed on you, their expressions a blend of curiosity and affection.

Taking a deep breath, you look towards Hongjoong, who gives you a reassuring nod, making you feel more confident as you continue, "I've thought about this a lot, and I want you all to know how special you are to me. I think we should give it a try."

Around you, the boys freeze in their tracks, their expressions shifting from disbelief to sheer elation. Your words land in their hearts like a gentle caress, and the impact was profound. It was as if a wave of pure joy had washed over them, leaving them floating in a sea of happiness. Their faces light up with radiant smiles, their eyes sparkling with unshed tears of joy. The room seemed to shimmer with an aura of warmth and contentment that only your words could bring.

Seonghwa, the embodiment of tenderness, takes a step closer, his voice filled with emotion. "You have no idea how much those words mean to us," he admits, his eyes glistening.

San, who had dreamt of this moment for years, is overwhelmed with gratitude. "I can’t believe this is happening," he said, his voice trembling with sincerity.

Yunho, the eternal optimist, can’t stop grinning. "This feels way better than I imagined!" he exclaimed under his breath, yet you manage to catch it, causing your heart to race even more than it already was.

Jongho, the pillar of strength, looks at you with profound appreciation. "Thank you for choosing us," he says, his voice steady with emotion.

Yeosang, usually reserved, couldn't help but express his delight. "I've been waiting for this for so long," he admitted, his eyes shining.

Mingi and Wooyoung, the jokers of the group, let out joyful laughs, not being able to speak any words, their happiness immeasurable.

Hongjoong, whose emotions were always close to the surface, openly shares his feelings. "I can't express how happy I am right now," he confesses, his voice quivering with emotion.

They surround you, their words and expressions convey the depth of their joy. It feels like a moment of pure happiness, a shared understanding that something beautiful is beginning. With hearts full of love and excitement, you know that your journey with these incredible individuals was just starting, and it was going to be an extraordinary adventure filled with love, passion, and unforgettable moments.

“Boys, back up a little,” Hongjoong speaks out, his usual tone of authority present once more as he realises all eight of them huddled around you, making you feel slightly vulnerable. 

The seven boys gathered around you pick up on your tenseness. It wasn't that you minded their presence in your personal space; in fact, their company was something you cherished. It was the attention focused solely on you that made you feel a bit small, like the centre of the universe in that moment. 

San, always attuned to your feelings, senses your unease. He takes a step back with the others and speaks gently, "Hey, we're here because we care about you, but we don't want you to feel overwhelmed. We can take things at your pace."

Thankfully, nobody seemed to mind your tenseness, realising the reasoning for it.

“So how is this going to work?” You manage to ask, not quite sure as to how a relationship with nine people is going to work out. 

Sitting down at your usual place at the table, you notice the boys rush to their own seats also.

“It's just like a normal relationship really.” Hongjoong answers your question as he takes a seat down in front of you.

“Just there’s a lot of love going around, I suppose.” Jongho adds, “it’s not too different to a monogamous relationship.”

“You probably will go on a lot of dates,” Seonghwa jokes, chuckling gently.

“And receive lots of affection,” Yeosang says quietly from his seat, and you can’t help but notice the blush covering his face. 

“But like every relationship, you are allowed to say no to us, in any way. If you aren't comfortable with something, don't be scared to let us know. We would hate to ever make you uncomfortable or upset.” Yunho says, a reassuring smile on his face, yet you can tell his words are important to him and the others around him, as they nod and agree to Yunho.

“If you have any questions don't feel scared to ask, but remember, this isn't a contract, it's a relationship, just go with the flow. You can do whatever you would like, and… leave whenever you want.”  Hongjoong says, his words slightly sorrow, which you are quick to reassure him.

“We don't need to think of that now, I’m not planning on leaving any time soon.” You quickly say, not wanting to see the hurt expression on Hongjoong’s face any longer.

Little did you know, your short but heartfelt statement brought joy not only to Hongjoong but to all eight men surrounding you. Their smiles grew wider, and their eyes shimmered with happiness as they soaked in your words.

“Like most relationships though,” Hongjoong begins, catching everyone’s attention, “although there are eight of us, not that I think you would ever even think of it, you can't be with anyone outside of this group. I want you to fully understand that.”

“Of course, I’m in a relationship with you eight, not anyone else and I think cheating is for sore losers who aren't happy with their partners but can't find the guts to break up with them because they are scared of losing the only person who cares about them in their lives.” You quickly cut off your rant, upon seeing the confused, yet agreeing expressions on the men around you.

"Damn girl, did someone hurt you?" Wooyoung playfully says, his tone light and teasing. But as soon as the words leave his mouth, a sense of realisation strikes him like a bolt of lightning as he sees your slightly hurt expression and his heart twangs with guilt. It wasn't just a casual remark; someone had, indeed, broken your trust, and the implications of that hit all the men around you like a ton of bricks.

Wooyoung’s playful expression shifts to one of concern and protectiveness in an instant. His eyes darken with a mix of anger and empathy as he realises that you have experienced pain and betrayal.

The other members, too, sense your change in behaviour . They exchange glances, silently communicating their readiness to support you.

San, who is observing you very intently, caught on to the change in your demeanour. He leans closer, his face reflecting his own concern. "Hey, are you okay?" he asks gently, his voice filled with genuine worry.

“It was a while ago, I'm rather glad it was a short lived relationship, he turned out to be such a dick.” 

“Does he go to our school?” Yunho asks, his eyes narrowed in some form of mixture of jealousy and anger.

“I am not going to answer that question.” You chuckle, “but don't worry about anything, I only have eyes for you guys now. It was one of my first relationships anyways, so I’m still quite new to the whole affection thing.” 

"Just how experienced are you?" Wooyoung can't resist teasing, a mischievous glint in his eye and a playful smirk on his face as he witnesses your flustered state.

San, standing beside Wooyoung, couldn't help but chuckle at the teasing. He playfully slaps Wooyoung on the back of the head, a gentle reprimand for his impulsive curiosity. However, it was evident that San, too, was curious about your past relationships.

The other members exchange knowing glances, their expressions a mix of amusement and interest. They were already accustomed to each other's past experiences, and your life is now intricately entwined with theirs, they can’t help but wonder how far you have gone into a relationship with someone. Naturally, they are curious about your past and the experiences that have shaped you.

It takes you a second to regain your composure, and you realise you could make some fun out of it while you're here. 

"Well, let's just say, I know what I like and what I want to try," you reply with a clearly suggestive undertone, a playful glint in your eye. Your words hang in the air, and it does not go unnoticed by the men surrounding you. Their eyes darken with desire as they absorb the implications of your statement. You hear a few sharp intakes of breath from around you, and you can't quite believe how much your words impacted the males around you.

In this moment, a tangible tension fills the room, the air crackling with unspoken desires and fantasies. Each of them felt a surge of longing, their own desires awakening in response to your sudden openness.

Hongjoong's usually composed demeanour wavers for a brief moment, his restraint tested by the allure of your words. Along with your words in the bedroom earlier, it seems like a potent mix that you are almost teasing him with.

San's eyes gleam with a playful challenge, as if he is ready to explore those desires with you. Desperately wanting to find the time with you to show you everything he’s been dreaming of for years.

Yunho feels a rush of heat, his thoughts consumed by the possibilities your words hold. The kiss you two shared reaches the front of his mind and he has a hard time hiding his excitement as he imagines what would happen if, next time, you don't stop.

Yeosang's usual calm exterior betrays a hint of excitement, a silent acknowledgment of the passionate connection that has been ignited.

Mingi's playful grin hints at his willingness to partake in such adventures. Wooyoung's creative mind is already racing with ideas of how to indulge in your fantasies. 

Jongho, although rather inexperienced himself, finds himself wanting to explore his own desires alongside you.

Seonghwa's dark gaze locks onto yours, his expression a mix of intensity and anticipation, his sultry gaze causing butterflies to rush through your stomach, his lustful look making your heart beat rise. 

In that charged moment, you were the epicentre of their desires, your words kindling a fire within each of them. It was a shared understanding that there were unexplored realms of passion waiting to be discovered, and they were eager to embark on that journey with you.

The room seemed to shrink as their longing gazes remained fixed on you, a silent invitation to explore the depths of desire and pleasure together. It was a promise of intimate moments yet to come, a tantalising glimpse into a future filled with passion and connection.

It is Yeosang’s voice who breaks the silence, although it is shaky, he holds some sort of power as he speaks, his brow raising slightly, “and what would those be?” 

Feeling awfully in control of the situation makes you feel somewhat powerful. With a cheeky grin, you raised your eyebrows in response to Yeosang's curiosity. 

"I guess you'll have to find out," you teased, your tone laced with playful mystery.

Your words hung in the air like a tantalising promise, and they didn't go unnoticed by the men around you. Arousal simmered beneath the surface, and each of them found their thoughts running wild, their desires ignited by the prospect of discovering the depths of your desires.

“Holy shit,” you hear San groan under his breath, avoiding your gaze.

With a mischievous giggle, you gracefully rise from your seat, a sense of satisfaction in the air. Playfully, you send a wink in their direction, a silent promise of more exciting moments to come. 

“I’m going to get ready for bed,” you say. With a playful skip in your step, you make your way to the confines of your bedroom, leaving the men behind, their thoughts still simmering with desire.

Disappearing into your room, you can’t help but feel a rush of excitement and anticipation. The playful banter had ignited a passionate spark among you all, and the possibilities for the future seemed endless. You knew that the intimate adventures awaiting you would be filled with desire, pleasure, and a deep connection that bound you together.

Wooyoung and Mingi quickly rush to stand, wanting to follow you into the confines of your room, to see exactly what you meant by your suggestive words. Seonghwa and Yunho shuffle in their seats, restless, also wishing to follow you to your bedroom. Yeosang, and San share a knowing glance, their faces both a deep shade of red. San chuckles to himself, clearly affected by your words, yet he finds the humour in your playful teasing, bringing a smile to his face. 

Just as Wooyoung is about to make a dash for the exit, Hongjoong's voice cuts through the air, stern and authoritative. Without even sparing a glance at the two behind him, he asks them to sit down. His commanding tone brings both Mingi and Wooyoung to an abrupt halt, and they immediately sense the underlying seriousness in Hongjoong's demand.

Once again, Hongjoong's leadership qualities are not to be underestimated, and the weight of his words hung in the air, stopping any hasty actions in their tracks. His stern demeanour makes it clear that there was something important he wishes to address, and it has the full attention of those present. Mingi and Wooyoung exchange a quick glance, silently acknowledging the gravity of the situation.

“What is it, Joong?” Seonghwa asks, his concern showing as he sees the furrowed expression on Hongjoong’s expression.

"I didn't want to bring the mood down, we should be happy right now," Hongjoong began, his voice filled with a hint of frustration. He runs a hand through his hair, a sign of his unease, before continuing, "I think Ryu knows about ___."

Mingi's reaction was immediate, and he couldn't contain his shock and anger. "What the fuck?" he exclaims, his eyebrows furrowing deeply.

The collective mood among all the men took a nosedive, plunging from happiness into a pit of uncertainty and concern.

San, always ready to protect and defend, stands up from his seat, his initial confusion giving way to anger. "What? What makes you think that?" he demands, his voice laced with frustration.

Hongjoong's revelation had thrown a dark shadow over the previously joyful atmosphere, and now, questions and fears raced through their minds. Gently Yeosang grabs San’s hand, momentarily calming his anger, although Yeosang himself feels as if he is seeing red.

“When I went to check on her, among other things, she told me the reason she was upset was because she received a message from someone.”

“What, from who?” Yeosang questions, his voice slightly sharper than usual, it does not go unnoticed by the seven around him.

“You can make a guess…” Hongjoong replies, looking down at his fingers which are picking a piece of dead skin on his nail. 

“Are you sure it is from her?” Seonghwa begins, his hand resting on Hongjoong’s hand, stopping him from the bad habit of picking skin. 

“In the message was the heart, with the eight, I’ve only ever seen her use that.”

“That’s her then.” Yunho says, his teeth gritted, looking forward to nothing in particular.

The tension in the room escalates as the seven men around Yunho struggle to process this unexpected revelation. The mere mention of Ryu's involvement casts a dark cloud over the previously uplifted atmosphere.

The unknown intentions of Ryu gnaw at their minds, leaving them feeling uneasy and apprehensive. While they had been able to protect you from Ryu's potential interference within the confines of their home, this new development has thrown a wrench into their plans. Things had suddenly become far more complicated than they had ever imagined.

Each of them wore expressions of concern, their thoughts racing as they contemplated the potential implications of Ryu's knowledge. The unspoken question hung heavily in the air: What was Ryu planning, and how would it affect you?

“Should we have waited until we knew Ryu was gone before we started our advances on ____?” Mingi questions, more to himself than to anyone else.

“It’s our relationship, another person shouldn't have a say in what we can and can't do with our girlfriend.” Jongho exclaims, his fists tightening in his lap.

"I get what you're saying, Jongho," Wooyoung exclaimed in response to Jongho's statement. He can empathise with Jongho's concerns, but he couldn't entirely agree with his viewpoint.

The situation was undeniably complex, and their protective instincts were at odds with the desire to see you happy and free from any past entanglements. It was a delicate balance they had to strike, and finding a resolution that would ensure your well-being while allowing you to pursue happiness was a challenge.

Wooyoung's voice holds a note of understanding as he continues, "But we can't just ignore this, can we? If Ryu does something, it means our guard might not be enough. We need to figure out what's going on and how it might affect ___." His concern for your safety was evident in his words, and he is determined to address the issue head-on.

Hongjoong's voice is contemplative as he speaks, his eyes reflecting his own internal analysis. "You're right," he admits, addressing the group. "We were excited when she forgave us, so we let our guard down."

The admission hung in the air, a collective acknowledgment that their happiness had, in a way, overshadowed the need for continued vigilance. It was a humbling realisation that their happiness with you had momentarily clouded their judgement.

Hongjoong continues, his tone firm and determined, "But that doesn't mean we can't rectify it. We need to be cautious, not just for our sake but for hers too. We won't let Ryu's presence threaten ___ or our relationship."

His words carry a sense of resolve, and it is clear that Hongjoong is committed to protecting you and ensuring that nothing would jeopardise the bond you had all worked so hard to rebuild.

The weight of Hongjoong's determination and leadership settles in the room, and the tension among the boys seems to ease slightly. There was a shared understanding among them that when Hongjoong took charge of a situation, there was little need to worry.

Hongjoong's ability to provide guidance and assert control over challenging circumstances is a source of comfort and reassurance for the group. His leadership has always played a crucial role in navigating the complexities of their relationships and disagreements in the past and the trust that he will ensure your safety and happiness.

In that moment, their trust in their captain’s abilities becomes a source of strength, a reminder that they are a unified front ready to face any challenges that come their way. The collective determination to protect you and preserve the chemistry you have found together was unwavering, and they knew that, under Hongjoong's guidance, they can face whatever lies ahead.

“Do you have any idea what she might want?” Yeosang asks gently after a few moments of reflective silence.

The seven men turned their collective gaze to Hongjoong, who had a deep furrow in his brow as he spoke. "She said that we are 'her boys,' not ___'s," he explains, his voice tinged with concern. He raises a hand to gently massage his temples, a sign of the weight of the situation.

Mingi's reaction is immediate and passionate. "That's insane! She was the one who hurt us. How could she possibly think that we belong to her?" His voice rises with anger and frustration.

San tries to diffuse the situation. "Calm down, Mingi. We don't want ___ to know what's happening." He emphasises the importance of keeping you in the dark for the time being.

Wooyoung, however, is torn. "That's stupid? ___ should know what's going on," he exclaims, his concern for your well-being outweighing his desire to keep you unaware of the situation.

The room is filled with conflicting emotions and opinions as they grapple with the complex web of feelings and loyalties surrounding Ryu's unexpected return and her claim over them. 

Hongjoong's voice remains steady as he reasons with the boys, his calm demeanour a contrast to the escalating tension in the room. "If the situation escalates, we will tell her," he asserts firmly, emphasising the need for caution and measured responses.

While his decision received some negative reactions from the others, Hongjoong stood his ground, resolute in his determination to prioritise your safety and well-being. He understood the gravity of the situation and believed that, for the time being, it was best to shield you from unnecessary worries. It was a difficult decision, but he believed it was the right one to make.

"Try to focus on the positives right now, boys," Hongjoong encourages, his voice carrying a note of reassurance, "___ is finally ours. Let's lighten up a little."

Hongjoong's attempt to lighten the mood doesn’t go unnoticed. He speaks with a gentle tone and tries to muster a warm smile, which some of the boys returned more easily than others. Despite the lingering concerns and unease, there is a shared understanding among them.

His words are a reminder of the joy and happiness that have come with your forgiveness and acceptance. While the challenges they face are significant, the boys share a deep sense of happiness knowing that you were officially a part of their lives.

Amidst the uncertainties, their bond with you remained a source of strength, and they are determined to cherish the positive moments and continue building a future together.

----

⇢ taglist: @lilactangerine @plutoneu @abby-grace @sunkissed725 @lixiel0ver @acciocriativity @hyukssunflower @sunukissed @khjcoo @stopeatread @meginthebuilding27 @mychickentendou @sunnyhokyu @rxnexxi @croa-yevon @arabelleum @randomness7198 @dysftopia @lucymultistan @sookacc @starillusion13 @daceydeath @theamazinggrace-000 @smilingtokki @hasgalore @pytssamworld @just-a-really-bored-kpop-fan @satsuri3su @theonesoldtoonedirection @wooya1224 @deadpoetsandhoney @skztrophy @kunhengie @tinyelfperson @l0vetiny @simplyalfie @doggopepper @seungily @dino-teezerr @silentcry329 @formulateez @senpai-of-doom @aaaaajonghooooo @ijwsbdinp ​@liniiiaa @channiespup @heyitstacy @eightmakesonebraincell @araknoid @lilbugs-things

im sorry to say but the taglist is closed from now onwards.

[clerc16]

Hi! Can I request something comforting with Charles? Could be reader having a bad day, struggling with something, having a difficult time at the moment

As soon as Charles saw you walk through the doors of your shared apartment, he knew something was wrong; especially when you didn’t greet him with the usual grin on your face.

“What’s wrong, amour?” He asks immediately, getting up from the couch and taking your bag away from you. A soft sigh escapes your lips before you shake your head and resting it on his shoulder.

“Bad day?” He asks, earning a sad hum from you. His hands traveled to your waist as he kissed your forehead lightly, slowly tapping your back. He read somewhere that it may ease some people’s stress, and calm them down.

Eventually, you lifted your head up from his shoulders and sighed again. He gave you a small but genuine smile.

“Let me make you some food. Well, not proper cooking. I am not capable of that,” he laughs, which causes you to laugh too. For the first time in what seemed like forever to you.

You sat on the kitchen counter as he made a simple sandwich for you - which he tried to make as fancy as possible - while you talked to him about your tough day, earning small hums and responses from him.

Shortly after, he took you upstairs and ran you a bath, making it as comfortable as it could be for you.

“I really don’t know what I would have done without you,” you mumble as you both laid on your shared bed later, facing each other.

“It’s nothing, chérie. It’s okay to have some bad days. But I’ll always be there for you at the end of them, anyway.” He replied, kissing your forehead yet once again. You loved him, and so did he. And he will forever be there for you.

thank you for requesting!

[hobicakess]

Alien!au with Jin. His original self is mean and cold towards his wife and others until an alien parasite or just an alien takes control of his body, changing him.

Consider this your first red flag

You shuffle awake when the smell of bacon hit your nose. Groaning you roll over looking at the clock the blaring a red 9:30 am. Confused you sit up straight rubbing your eyes noticing thar your husband is gone, quickly you rush to the bathroom, do your business and run downstairs. There he stood over the stove apron wrapped around his slim torso flipping pancakes. Your brows scrunched in confusion and surprise Jin would never touch anything but his plate in the kitchen making it known that cooking was strictly your job.

"Goodmorning love' he spoke spooking you to no end. "Morning?" You question slowly shuffling to the kitchen island where he'd placed some food. "I made strawberry syrup for your pancakes. I know how much you like it."

He kissed your forehead, sliding your food towards you. "I'll be late for work, eat up, I'll text you throughout the day." And with that you watched him disappear down the halls.

See this should be regular husband behavior but Jin wasn't like this. He was traditional; you cooked, cleaned, took care of the house and followed him around like a puppy, and opened your legs when he needed you like a good wife should. Jin was cruel to you always with a cold shoulder and blank stare. Though what would you expect? Your marriage wasn't out of love, it was business. He was obligated to treat you well but what changed this morning?

The second red flag

“Honeyy I'm home!” You practically jumped out your skin when he pushed you a bouquet of red roses after a long day of work. The bright and shiny smile scared you in a way because it was a genuine one. Seokjin has never genuinely smiled at you before. Hesitantly you take the bouquet from him.

“Thank you?”

“Don't thank me darling, you deserve them. I noticed that you tended to your garden and cleaned the windows today.”

“Um.. yeah?” he cooed at you as you blink owlishly at him. His big hands go to grab your face squeezing your cheeks. “You're so cute, honey. Working hard all day. I'm going to start on dinner.”

You watch your mouth half hung open as your husband cooks in the kitchen. Your bright pink apron wrapped around his tiny waist as he shoved on your glittery oven mitts to pull something out the oven.

He turns to you with a half smile on his face, “You want something to drink? I can squeeze some lemons and make some lemonade.”

Closing your mouth you stumble over your words and swallow hard. *W-water will be okay.”

You hesitantly begin to eat the food, scarily aware of your husband's love struck gaze that settled in you. Watching you chew and placing some more meat onto your plate.

“Are you. . . Okay?”

He frowns, stopping hand stopping mid air as he looks at you. “I'm perfectly fine, dear. Why do you ask?”

Shrugging you push around the vegetables on your plate. “You haven't been your usual self since this morning.”

What you didn't see was his eye twitching and his fist clench at the accusation. Quickly snapping back into his unusual character.

“I'm fine don't worry your pretty little head” shoving a piece of asparagus in your mouth.

The final flag was bright red and waving right in the face. Soft kisses pressed into your shoulder blades, soft hands running up and down your hips and legs, soft breaths and praises. Seokjin's pace was slow yet sharp enough to send your perfectly propped head back, back arching off of the bed holding onto to him tight enough that you knew he'd bruise.

He presses his forehead on yours staring right into your soul, for a split second you swore you saw his eyes turn into slits “Why-”. Your cut off gasping as he begins to play with your clit sending you over that hill of pleasure.

As you lay in bed next to a soundly sleeping Jin. You begin to recount his strange behavior. This was how a husband and wife were supposed to live but . . Why now? You'd been married for 3 years now, and now he decides he wants to ask like a husband instead of a stranger. You huffs turning in bed, this shouldn't be something you complain about.

That next morning you awoke to a steaming cup of tea and a bed head Jin. “You were restless last night so I decided to call off and stay with you today “

“Call off? You've never called off before “

“Well my top priority is my lovely wife right now” dropping a kiss on your head he grabs the TV remote and hands it to you before leaving the room again.

You shake away the weird feeling in your stomach clicking on the TV.

“There have been Reports from multiple women from different parts of the world of their husbands' strange behaviors.” The headline immediately makes you sit up.

“These women allegedly describe that their husbands who were mean, and off-putting men suddenly switched overnight. Almost as if the original version of their husbands is gone.”

“The behaviors at first are sweet and you don't question it but then it becomes overwhelming. He won't let you leave the house, talk to your friends and family, locking you in. At least these are the claims of 35 year old misoo”

The camera cuts to a woman in handcuffs, head held low as she stares at the ground below her hiding from the multiple cameras.

“Why did you kill your husband?”

She stops completely as she looks up,

“That thing wasn't my husband.”

Shutting off the TV you immediately grab your phone sliding into your house shoes making it down the stairs. “Y/n are you alright?” You don't answer going straight for the door grabbing the car keys from the bowl. “My best friends in labor I'm going to the hospital.”

"Well I can come with you-"

“No, she doesn't want any men there.”

“I can drive and sit in the car or lobby while I wait-"

"NO” you yell, causing his eyes to widen as they flash again. “I want to go by myself.”

Opening the front door you head for the car jumping in and peeling off without even clicking in your seat belt.

[bountycancelled]

monster trio + sensitive/angry reader who's pmsing

opla x reader

requested: yes, but reqs are closed right now<3

genre: headcanons, no pronouns used, no use of y/n, reader has periods but gender isn't specified.

a/n: not taking reqs for now since I'm writing my finals and also working on an smau. but I am taking commissions if anyone is interested, totally not a must at all♡ unedited, no caps on purpose, its also a little short, but I hope you enjoy it!

☆luffy☆

–1000/10. brushes off your sour mood with a cheery smile and nothing floating around in his eyes.

if you were hoping that he would act a little more... sensibly during this less bearable part of your cycle, then you're dead wrong. boy is completely clueless.

everytime you lash out at him or otherwise act way more emotionally than you usually do, he genuinely doesn't think anything of it.

if you explain to him that your hormones are the reason for your behaviour, he'll just shrug and carry on as usual.

he doesn't necessarily understand how your body works, but he'll do anything you ask if it means making this time for you better to manage.

cuddling with you when you're in pain, comforting you when you get overly emotionally or giving you space. (this one's really hard for him, not because he can't be away from you, he just keeps forgetting and walking into the room your in to talk to you)

overall, this brown-eyed, straw hat wearing pirate may not be a pms expert, but he'll sure as he'll try his best for you. (no sharing food though, so don't ask.)

☆zoro☆

extremely perceptive, so he notices something is off about you, but shares that same lack of knowledge that luffy has.

he's also not the most emotional or confrontational person, if you want to talk about whatevers bothering you, then you know where to find him. he's not going to actively seek out answers.

he can take you attitude and mood swings like a champ too, so it's only when he overhears you chatting with nami about your period pain kicking your ass that he puts 2 and 2 together.

again, he's not exactly sure how to help you, this isn't a problem he can solve with his swords. so, he offers you the next best thing in his opinion, sleep. and lots of it.

if you're sad, he'll let you cuddle him until you eventually pass out (he's as stiff as a cardboard box when you're wrapped around him, but he's trying, okay?) if you're angry, he'll train with you until you can't get a word out, let alone think pissy thoughts, and you'll both nap on the closest comfy surface.

he always falls asleep before you tbh, buuuuuut. he always wakes up before you, still as he can be, making sure that you don't stir in your sleep, seeing as it's one of your only respites to the highs and lows of highschool footba– I mean, of your hormones. its not much, but he hopes that his presence serves as a comfort to you.

☆sanji☆

out of the three, he's the most likely to be hurt by your change in behaviour.

knowing sanji, he probably thinks that he's done something to encite your sudden moods and he'll seek you our immediately to apologise for whatever he's done that's made you act like this.

when you explain to him the actual situation, he calms down for a split second because now he knows he hasn't done anything to upset you, and then immediately goes into caring partner mode.

although he prides himself on knowing women better than most men, he's a bit clueless in this regard. but, if there's one thing he truly does know the ins and out of, it's you. your likes, dislikes, dreams, pet peeves, he'll pull out all the stops, each and every single action of his that you've ever talked about in a positive manner, he'll do.

I'm talking cuddles, compliments, cooking meals for you odd hours of the night when you're craving something specific, he'll do it all, if it means making this a little easier for you to deal with.

and though it pains him deeply to be away from you for any reason, he's grateful that you distance yourself whenever you're a bit snappy. he's sensitive by nature, and he'll come sprinting to you once you've cooled off a bit, ready to smother you with love once again.

[jumbled-thoughts-here]

Hi guys... I'm back >:7 More Prince/Pirate Scarian hooray!! Also I'm gonna start using the tag #2's Prince/Pirate Scarian so it's easy to find :3

*The scarred man chuckled,* "No need to thank me, sunshine. I can treat your other cuts n’ scrapes if you’d like? I can’t do much ‘bout the bruises, though."

*Grian thought for a second. Sure, he’d like to get rid of the slight sting of the wounds on his body, but also.. He really didn’t want Scar to.. Care? Like, it’s weird, okay?!*

*So the prince simply shrugged in response, fiddling with the end of his robes.* “Hm. So no, then? Alright. Do you need a change of clothes instead, little prince?”

*Now **that** sounded nice. The blond nodded, looking Scar in the eyes. The captain smiled - a little lopsided, sure (It’s cute, to Grian at least- wait who said that!?)- but it was genuine.* “Alright, birdie. You can wear my clothes, and maybe I can convince my crew to spare some fresh water (since fresh water is usually saved for cooking instead). We don’t necessarily have baths here, so you can rinse off with a bucket of water and a towel instead. I won’t make ya jump in the sea like the rest of us.” *Grian snickered softly, speaking in an amused tone.* “Why, thank you, *cap’n.* It’s an *honor* to be able to use some fresh water.”

*Scar simply stood and rolled his eyes, walking over to a dresser and rummaging through its drawers.* “Whatever you say, darling. Also, you’ll be wearing my clothes. I might have something small enough for you..”

*Grian huffed,* “You say that like I’m petite.” “You are.” “No I am *not,* you’re just.. Freakishly large!”

*Scar scoffed, grabbing a pair of gray trousers, boxers, and a white and flowy long-sleeved shirt. He then looked through a small box, pulling out a necklace - golden with an emerald charm.*

“I’ll take that as a compliment, princey.” “I’ll have you know it wasn’t one.”

*Scar smiled - Grian didn’t want that, damn it! He wanted Scar to.. Not be so happy all the time? He didn’t know, just- anything but that fucking smile!* “Sure, angel, whatever you say.” *He placed the clothes on Grian’s lap, shoving the necklace into his pocket.*

“I’ll be back in a moment, I’m going to get you stuff to wash up with.”

[arc-misadventures]

Emerald: Hey Cinder? MFK Me, Watts, and Jaune?

Cinder: MFK II

Emerald: H-Hey, Cinder?

Cinder: Yes, Emerald?

Emerald: MFK between, Jaune, Watts, and me~?

Cinder: Excuse me?

Jaune: Watts? The devil is that?

Cinder: I’d kill, Watts! Brutally, painfully, and slowly! I would absolutely remove his presence from this plain of existence, and the next! I would burn every fragmented memory of him so that their was nothing left of the fucker! I would DESTROY HIM!!!

Jaune: …

Emerald: …

Jaune: Y-You know what… N-Never mind!

Emerald: So… W-Who are you going to fuck, and marry then…?

Cinder: Well, for starters, you’re gonna fuck, Jaune…

Jaune: WHAT?!

Emerald: Excuse me?

Jaune: That’s not how the game is pla…! No, that’s not important; Why do you want me to sleep with, Emerald?!

Emerald: Yeah, why do you want me to do that?! A-Are you into that…?

Cinder: No, I’m not… But, well… Watching, Jaune turning you into his personal toy does sound oh so tantalizing~! Mmmm~! Perhaps we should try that later~!

Jaune: What?!

Emerald: Okay, what’s going on here, I’m so confused.

Jaune: Same here, what’s going on, Cindy?

Emerald: Cindy?!

Jaune: Uhhh…?!

Emerald: Since when did, Cinder have a nickname?!

Cinder: Since we became a couple.

Emerald: You’re dating?!

Jaune: Yes…

Emerald: The fuck did that happen?!

Jaune: Well… remember that time we were sent on that survival mission, j-just the two of us for team cohesion training?

Emerald: Yes?

Jaune: Well, Cinder was butting heads with me trying to be a leader, and all that.

Emerald: Yeah, she’s always been upset that you were chosen for team leader than her. But, that training mission sorted that out. It did sort it out?

Jaune: I-It did… just not in the way they intended…

Emerald: What happened?

Jaune: Well, you see… uhh… W-We kinda…

Cinder: Fucked.

Jaune: Yeah… That…

Emerald: WHAT?! The fuck happened?

Cinder: Oh, the usual: Me gloating on how great our team would be if I was in team leader. Jaune stating my arrogance would get us all killed if I was team leader. Then we both started arguing even more, and since none of you were their to stop us we really went at it. I was going to slap him for…? For something he said, It doesn’t matter anyway. He caught, my hand, and then we started wrestling, we fell down, and rolled across the dirt for a bit until, Jaune pinned to the floor, and the next thing I know I’m shoving my tongue down his throat, and learning how much of a bottom truly am.

Emerald: S-Seriously?

Jaune: P-Pretty much…

Emerald: So the whole reason you two started getting along together, and stopped fighting one another, is because you had sex?!

Jaune: Yes…?

Cinder: And, the disciplinary spankings. You mustn’t forget about the spankings~!

Emerald: Okay… Fine? You’re dating, I take it you’re ’married’ then?

Cinder: Oh absolutely. I genuinely hope to become, Cinder Fall Arc one day.

Jaune: Best not tell mom that, she could at least wait until after I ask you to marry me before demanding grandkids…

Cinder: Wait…?! You’re actually going to ask me to marry you?!

Jaune: Uhhh…?! S-S-So why do I have to fuck, Emerald?!

Cinder: Oh well, since I’ll be the bread earner, and you the house husband…

Jaune: What?! Why do I have to be the house husband?!

Cinder: Cause you can cook, clean, entertain guests, buy the necessary groceries for a meal. And, you know I can’t do that regardless of how hard we try, I mean to remember what happened the last time I tried to cook?

Emerald: They’re still repairing the kitchen…

Jaune: Shit… I am the house husband. But still, where does fucking, Emerald come into all of this?

Cinder: Oh she’ll be the sexy maid who helps you clean up around the house that you also bend over the table, and spank her because she did a ‘bad’ job cleaning everything.

Jaune: So she’s my mistress?

Cinder: Yes.

Emerald: So you want me to fuck your boyfriend to see if I’m good for him?

Cinder: Yes. I will be testing you on your ability to pleasure him, ability to take his massive member…

Emerald: How massive?

Cinder: Your endurance, and your…

Jaune: Endurance? Oh, I get it, you want help so you don’t tap out again.

Cinder: Can you blame me?! You can last twice as long as I can! And, I’m always walking with a limp every time we do it! I NEED HELP!

Jaune: Hence, Emerald?

Cinder: Hence, Emerald. So, you up for it, Emerald?

Emerald: …

Emerald: If I do this… D-Does that also mean I can sleep with you too…?

Cinder: That’s a definite probability.

Emerald: W-Will I get spankings from you if I misbehave…?

Cinder: Most likely.

Emerald: I’ll do it!

Cinder: Wonderful! Okay, let the test begin! Emerald, lets see how long you can last, and if you need help, or are about to tap out, we’ll have, Neo rake your place.

Jaune: Neo?! Neo doesn’t like me like that!

Cinder: Yes she does. She’s asked me on multiple occasions for a threesome with you.

Jaune: Bullsh-Aaaahhhh?!! Neo?!

Neo: 😈

Jaune: Neo?! Get your hands out of my pants?!

Neo: 😙🎵

Jaune: Get your hand off my dick!

Cinder: Neo, wait your turn.

Neo: 😠

Cinder: Emerald, what are you waiting for, get to it.

Emerald: …

Emerald: Okay… Let’s do this!

~~~

Emerald: …

Neo: …

Emerald: I can’t feel my legs…

Neo: 🤕

Emerald: Worth it~!

Neo: 🥰

[luveline]

i've been in a james mood so if you're still doing baby blurbs what do you think of one with james and a touch starved reader <3

i think it’s the best idea ever, waiter!james x cook!reader <3 fem!reader

"Watch out, coming through! Oh, god, I'm so sorry."

You seize up, the warmth of James' hand lingering on your hip.

"I'm sorry," he says again, "I didn't mean to grab you like that."

James is your friend. He's also a waiter, and it makes sense for him to touch you. It's a busy kitchen and you're likely much more distracted than any line cook has a right to be. It's a necessary evil to be pushed around sometimes.

Still, James can see on your face how it's made you feel, and he's standing there with a plate in hand that he should really take out into the restaurant before he gets in trouble looking worried.

"It's okay," you say weakly, because it is. It's fine.

"Sorry," he says again. He grimaces at you and then spins on his heel. You watch him go, and you don't look up from what you're doing again until the end of the night.

James is smoking a cigarette just outside of the staff door. You should walk to your car and get home — it's late and cold and your legs and arms ache from hours of work — but he really is your friend, and you don't want him to think he's pised you off.

"I didn't know you smoked."

He smiles around his cig, takes it out and quickly blows a stream of smoke away from you. "I don't," he says, dropping the cig and stamping it out.

This is never going to work. Not when he's as charmingly handsome as he is. "Goodnight," you say awkwardly.

"Wait, wait!" he says, following your too quick footsteps. You startle and stop. "I really am sorry. For touching your waist like that, I thought you were gonna knock the plate out of my hand, s'all."

"It's okay, seriously." You smile sheepishly.

"No, 'cos- Because it obviously freaked you out. Sweetheart, I'm not trying to make a pass at you. It wasn't okay."

"You stopped me from getting a bowl of hot soup down my back, James. There's nothing to forgive."

He gives pause for a few seconds. "Alright," he says, slapping his thigh gently. "If you're sure. I'll see you tomorrow."

Your smile is much warmer as you reply, "See you tomorrow."

"James?"

You're about five feet away when the want to tell him, to tell anybody, gets heavy. It works up your throat and you can't help it, you turn back around and catch him as he's about to go back inside for close.

He turns around. The overhead light is white and stark and makes him look a shade from his usual sun-kissed brown. He takes another step toward you and it eases, dark hair halo'd by light.

You want to tell him so badly. It's hard to say. Harder to explain.

"People don't touch me, much."

He hides his surprise quickly but not quick enough. "No?"

You pull your hands out of your pockets. James takes a few amicable steps toward you until you can see the honeyed brown specks in his eyes. There's a softness to them that comes with patience, an openness that makes your confession a little easier.

"It's been a really long time and you surprised me. It wasn't because you freaked me out, or that I... didn't want you to."

And may a higher power smite you down where you stand, you could not have made it anymore embarrassing for yourself if you'd tried.

You can always count on James to be direct. "A long time?"

"I don't remember." The last time someone touched me nicely.

"Do you want me to do it again?" He takes a hold of his bicep in one hand, the firm lines of his arms shifting. "I could actually use a hug, if you wanted one too. It's been a really long day."

"I don't know if I know-"

"Of course you do. Like riding a bike, you don't forget."

He opens his arms.

If he were just a coworker you'd say no, but you and James get along really well. You've worked together for a few months and he's genuinely lovely, he spoils you with compliments and you feed him all the best bits of the kitchen leftovers. You genuinely believe it's friendship. Makes it easy to step into his open arms.

He doesn't tug you in like you're expecting. He waits for you to feel his hips, and his touch feels almost burning warm as he gets his arms over your shoulders. "See," he says, crossing his arms behind your shoulders, "s'easy."

You fold him in. Then, after a second, you readjust your arm. You can feel the planes of his back and the lean muscle underneath. It might be pathetic to admit, but you're overestimulated immediately. You shudder at his hand spreading wide over your shoulder blade, again when he digs his fingertips in lightly, clasping you through your jacket. Your skin tingles.

"You smell nice for someone who just spent eight hours frying garlic knots," he says nonchalantly.

You laugh into his ear. "You smell nice for someone who just smoked."

"Don't think that happened."

His hand moves tentatively to the back of your head. He cups your head and encourages your face into the smooth curve of his neck. Each movement feels as though it's being made through a layer of molasses.

You try not to gasp in breath against his throat.

"Relax," he murmurs, quietly enough that you might've made it up.

It's a good hug. He squeezes you again and you count the seconds. One, two, three, four...

You pull away. James let's you go without a fight. You can barely look at him. You miss the hand he brings to rake back his misbehaved hair, the way his eyes flit from your downturned eyes to your trembling hands.

"I don't know about you, but I feel better already," he says.

"Potter! What are you doing?" someone says suddenly. "I'm not closing by myself."

You spring away from him like you've been caught doing something wrong. He does the opposite, his arm crossing the gap, a hand held toward you reassuringly.

"Sorry, Frankie-pie. I'm coming."

Frank rolls his eyes and goes back inside. James simply smiles. He starts for the door, pausing at the stoop to smile at you from over his shoulder.

"Best hug I've had in ages. Let me know if you want another one tomorrow?"

He leaves before you can answer. You stare at the door as it scratches closed, an image of his dark eyes burned in place.

James hadn't been exaggerating. You feel better already.

[lilacfiresoul]

forbid, april 4 -- @jegulus-microfic -- 1,393 words

thank you to @magswrite & @ninety-two-bees for the cat names for this one, was really struggling to think of some <3

second microfic posted today, only because i want to keep up with the dates for all of them lol and i genuinely am procrastinating uni work

----

So, Regulus can safely say that making a cake is harder than he thought.

It’s not like he’s not following the recipe—he is. He scoured the internet two days ago for a good Devil’s Food cake recipe, eventually finding one he could follow along well enough; he even stopped by the supermarket on his way home from work yesterday to get all the ingredients, writing a list and ticking items off he as went to make sure everything was accounted for.

He’s being thorough, meticulous.

But he’s never baked anything before, and, with rapidly dawning fear, he realises he’s greatly underestimated the skill that goes into it.

Dread, and the crippling desire to make this cake perfect for James, leads Regulus to run flour-dusted fingers through his hair as he squints at the recipe for the buttercream. The recipe tells him not to “over-whip”, but how is he supposed to know what that means? He’s just thankful that James, clearly the cook in this household, has all the equipment and devices needed to bake, so at least he’s got that.

By the hob, two halves of something that resembles a cake cool on a wire rack. They don’t look exactly like the picture, but hopefully it will still taste good. Hopefully.

To be honest, Regulus will be pissed if it doesn’t, as the kitchen is … Well. He glances away from the stand mixer mixing the buttercream ingredients together to stare at the evidence of what he’s been doing this afternoon.

Used bowls and utensils overflow in the sink. The majority of the countertops are clustered with baking ingredients: the bag of flour still open next to the cocoa powder; the egg box flipped open with two eggs missing. If Regulus were to run a finger over the surface, he’d probably find it dusted with a fine layer of flour too, as he learnt the hard way that one has to open a bag of flour slowly.

James usually keeps it spotless, and whilst he doesn’t forbid Regulus from cooking—actually he wholeheartedly encourages it, gazing dreamy-eyed as Regulus tries to focus on what he’s doing and not imagine having him for dessert instead—there’s the unspoken implication that the kitchen is James’ playground, whilst the study/library is Regulus’.

But he’ll clean it all up. He has still an hour and a half before James is due to get back home from work, which is plenty of time to figure out this icing problem, put the cake together, and for Regulus to clean up.

There’s a nervous feeling of anticipation in his stomach when he switches off the mixer, peering in at the icing. It looks good actually, and he breathes a sigh of relief. Okay, this might work.

Just then, one of their two cats, Leo, walks into the kitchen, followed by the other, Astraeus. James had named the former, a gorgeous white cat with one black spot at the base of his tail, and Regulus had named the latter, a Russian Blue with glowing yellow eyes that, when they were adopting cats, Regulus insisted he couldn’t leave behind.

“Hello, you two,” he says, picking up Astraeus and planting a kiss between the cat’s ears before setting her back down again. Leo, always craving being the centre of attention, hops up onto the counter.

Regulus is about to fuss him, too, when he hears the scrape of a key in the front door lock, indicating James is home. Panic flares in his chest, because Regulus is nowhere near done with this cake, and it’s going to spoil the surprise.

“Hi, love!” James calls out, the door closing behind him.

“Hey!” Regulus calls back, glancing around at the kitchen. “Shit, shit, shit,” he mumbles under his breath.

At the sound of their other father’s voice, Leo scrabbles into action. In his haste, he knocks into the bag of flour, sending it flying onto the floor—

And exploding everywhere with a loud thud.

“What the hell?” James exclaims from the hallway. “Reggie? Are you okay?”

Spooked, and probably scared of the consequences of his actions, Leo flees, knocking over—it really can’t get any worse, can it?—the box of eggs as he does so. Astraeus, pinning her ears to her head, follows instantly.

And Regulus? Heart literally jumping into his mouth, he manages to catch the eggs in time, only one of them cracking in its cardboard container. Putting them safely back on the counter, he sighs and rests his forehead on the cool surface, taking a deep breath in before answering, “Yeah. I’m okay,” and then turning around to assess the damage.

The bag of flour has well and truly split everywhere, sending white fireworks all over the floor and up the sides of the cupboards. It genuinely looks like a small flurry of fine, powdery snow has blown into the kitchen, as if every single piece of flour has expelled itself from the bag.

James darts around the kitchen doorframe, concern and worry written into the lines of his face, mouth open to ask if Regulus is okay again, when he freezes at the state of the kitchen.

For a second, he doesn’t say anything. Regulus can feel his heart thundering beneath his chest, loud like a drumbeat. Fuck, he’s in so much trouble. He watches James’ eyes flick from the flour-y explosion on the floor, to the cake cooling on the side, to the unwashed pans in the sink, and then back to Regulus.

Guilt floods through him. He should’ve just gotten a store-bought cake instead. He needn’t have gone to all this trouble, all this hassle, spent all that money, wasted all this time, because now their kitchen is an absolute mess, and they’re going to have to spend James’ birthday cleaning it up.

He almost expects a reprimand when James opens his mouth again, prepares himself for it, his body tensing, eyes narrowing, bracing himself for the reprimand to come—

He does not expect James to burst out laughing.

“Oh my God, Reg,” James wheezes, pressing a hand to his mouth. “You— there’s flour all over you …”

Looking down at himself, Regulus groans to find that it’s gotten on him too, though thank God he’s wearing an apron. “Jesus.”

Still laughing, James crosses over, cupping Regulus’ face in his hands. “I’m not talking about the apron, love. It’s,” he gets out between laughs, “it’s on your face. In your hair. What— What have you been doing?”

Fighting a smile, Regulus lets James brush flour from his cheeks and get it out of his hair, and then jerks his face away. “I was trying to make you a cake for your birthday, but, uh. I guess it took a turn. Leo got excited to see you. And you’re home early.”

“They let me go early,” James explains.

“Oh,” Regulus says. And then, because he has to ask, “You’re— not mad?”

“Mad?” James echoes, confused. “Reg, this— is hilarious. I’m flattered, and so, so happy that you went to all this effort for me. You didn’t have to do that.”

“But it’s your birthday. Happy birthday,” Regulus says, as if he didn’t whisper it into James’ ear this morning. The relief that James isn’t mad at him makes his knees buckle.

“Thank you, my beloved,” James tells him, turning to the cake on the side. “Is this chocolate cake?”

Regulus nods. “Devil’s Food cake to be precise. I looked up a recipe. I don’t know if it’s any good, but …”

The smile on James’ face could light up Regulus’ night. He steps over to the icing bowl. “This the icing?” and before Regulus can reply, he dips his finger in and licks it off. Regulus’ eyes widen.

“This is good, Reg. Like, really good. You know, you could actually be a good baker.”

“You think so?”

James comes back over to his side, this time cornering Regulus against the counter, one that is, thankfully, empty. “Definitely.”

It’s a long while before they clean up the flour on the floor.

[tartagliad]

Not Wanting to Eat

Summary: how would the boys do when you don't want to eat (but you're hungry)

Fandom: Genshin Impact

Characters: Zhongli, Kazuha, and Alhaitham

Genre: Fluff

G/N reader!

Warnings: reader is a bit sick in Alhaitham's

(a/n: I have eating problems.. maybe I'm too exhausted or stressed..? idk, I'm hungry, but nothing sounds good. Even my favourite food doesn't feel right.. I'm ordering cookies for breakfast and it's 10.30 am rn.. it's dumb.. but idk what else, ehe- it's already nighttime by the time this is up.. this is an indulgent of mine, hehe-)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He knows something's off about you

Your eating patterns are.. let's just say scattered

In the morning, you usually have breakfast with him, which was pretty early

For the last few days, you would eat when the sun is almost high in the sky

You also ate lunch at 4 or 5 pm and not eating dinner AT ALL-

It genuinely makes him worry about your health.. you're an ordinary mortal, he's scared if something bad happens to you..

Night time comes, both of you were enjoying your time with each other

Both of you are currently in the living room, you reading your documents whilst laying your head on his lap

Zhongli was reading a book. His other hand gently stroked your hair

"mmh.." you made a noise, he then looked at you, "is there something the matter..?"

He scans you, you shake your head slowly, "I'm just hungry.." you said. His eyes widens a bit, "I'll make you something then-"

Before he could finish, you cut him "thanks.. but I don't want to eat.." you then continue reading

Excuse me?? It left him speechless, did he do something wrong to make you like this?

"Love, I've noticed you haven't been eating properly. Mind telling me?" he spoke softly

You hesitate a bit, "it's dumb.. but nothing really taste good.. just thinking about it.. I don't know.."

Now, it left him confused.. "Even something you like?" he asked and you nodded

He sighed, gently cupping your cheek and facing you towards him. "You have to eat at some point, whether you like it or not.."

It's true.. you've been eating just because you need energy.. even if your body refused to..

"I'll make you something.. don't worry, it's not going to be in a big portion.. just small will do.." he left a little kiss on your forehead, then walk to the kitchen to cook :3

You smiled to yourself, "how sweet.." you mumbled

It makes your heart flutter on how caring he is <3

Zhongli comes back to you after a few minutes to give you a cup of tea, "Here, not to worry.. it's a softer brew, it'll help your stomach a bit.." he smiled softly

You hummed as a thank you, carefully taking a sip at it. It does made your stomach better

Knowing that you were comforted by it makes him feel relieved a bit..

..He hopes that you could finally eat properly again.. it hurts him that his gem didn't want to eat :''

Usually at the Crux, it's always a large feast for everyone to gather around and eat

It's normal for you and Kazuha to feast together and both of you never missed it

But now it's a bit different

You told Beidou that you're a bit busy and probably going to end up in the room for a bit

She then gave you the idea that you could eat while working, so she then told Kazuha to bring you some food

You thanked her and it was going smoothly until.. you told him just bring the food to you later

Not only that, when both of you are at Liyue, you refuse to eat anything and told him that he can eat first

..he doesn't want to, okay?? :(

Kazuha won't eat if you're not going to (but he ended up eating because from your whines..)

Although you grab a drink or a bite-sized cake to consume.. it doesn't feel the same

It feels wrong for him to eat a full portion of food while you were only having a snack

He DESPERATELY needed you to eat with him or at least let him feed you with his cooking :(

One night, he decided to confront you about this, he knocks the door

''y/n.. it's me" he spoke, you responded with a hum and he then walks in, like usual.. you're working

"Darling, can we talk for a bit..?" he sat on the bed beside you

You then put your pen down, looking at him, "what is it, Kazu?" you tilt your head.

"I realized that you didn't want to eat.. are you okay?" he pats your head.

You kept quiet, you looked at him, hoping for an answer from you, "I just.. didn't feel like it.. although to be fair.. I am hungry..'' you explained, "nothing really tasted good.. even my favourite foods.." you continued

It saddens him.. not wanting to eat although you're hungry is far too concerning..

"My poor sunshine.." he gently pull you to his chest, you leaned your head more

He hums softly, twirling your hair gently

"I don't want you to get sick.. especially busy like this.." he holds you, sniffing your hair, "try to eat, okay..? it'll make you feel better.."

You nodded slowly, leaning against the desk for support you then rest on the bed beside him

Pulling out a bar of chocolate and snapping it, he then feeds it to you, you bite into it, "See? it's good, right..?" kisses your cheek

"It's.. sweet.." "I know.." he chuckled, pecking your lips

"Try to get some rest too, don't stress yourself out.." he smiled, you hummed as you continued eating the chocolate that he feed you

Just by you eating chocolate makes him happy a bit.. but it still a long way for it to go away.. :")

He knows damn well that you're a hardworker, but not this much-

You've been busy with the reports from the Akademiya

It takes quite a bit of your energy, but that's just how it is..

Alhaitham wasn't concerned about anything, he's glad that you have some productivity

After a bit, he noticed somethings wrong with you

When he prepared some snacks for you in your office, it often left untouched

Also, did I mentioned that you also got a bit isolated (EVEN FROM HIM)??

When he happened to met your friends, they told him that you also refused to go eat with them, even if they forced you, you only asked for a drink (non alcohol ofc)

It makes him worried for you, your work is also starting to get a bit more stressful every minute

Often times also, you came home and just continued to work.. not paying attention to him

..how odd he thought, the usual you would greet him with a kiss

Alhaitham then followed to the bedroom, to his surprised, you're not even resting.. you continued working..

His heart sinks a bit, just when did you stop resting..?

Approaching you, he was caught off guard by your soft whimpers

"y/n, what's wrong?" he went beside you quickly, rubbing your shoulder gently

"..mmh.. I feel sick.." you curled up a bit, trying to hold the pain

Holding you close to him, he gently soothes you, "want to go to the bathroom?" he rubs circles on your back

You shake your head, leaning more towards him, he then pick you up and move you to the bed

"Have you eaten today?" he asked, holding your hand gently, "I didn't saw you go out from your office.."

You look away, not wanting to face him, this made him more greedy for answers. "Is your work stressing you out? If yes, I can help you reduce it."

It sounds great actually, "..a bit.." you looked at him, smiling a bit, "and no.. I haven't eaten anything.." you looked at his hand that was holding yours

He wasn't surprised actually, and you also know that, "What would you like to eat?" he asked, you fall silent again, thinking deeply before then shaking your head, which made him frown

"Sorry.. it's just that every food that comes to my mind doesn't sound good, it makes my stomach uncomfortable.." you answered, "although yes.. I am hungry.."

Rubbing your hand again, he sighed, "How about I'll make you some soup?" it sounds a bit odd since he doesn't prefer eating it, but for you right now, he'll do it. You nodded

"Be right back." he kissed your hand before leaving the room

Although the smell of food that he was making was good, your stomach didn't agree, it churns a bit.. making you curled up again

It took a bit to calm it down, just in time when Alhaitham comes in

"Here.." he sat beside you, gently feeds you the soup, making sure it's not too hot

It hurts him to see you slightly frowned uncomfortably whilst holding your stomach at some of the bites..

Especially when he felt that you were a bit lighter when he picked you up.. :(

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[epickiya722]

Okay for weeks (correction: since last year, why am I lying to you folks), I've been thinking about how else Yuji and Sukuna mirror each other and it's who their right hand is.

Choso and Uraume are also pretty similar while also opposite on some bits when you think about it.

Similar color palettes as far as clothing - white robe, purple piece

Usually calm, reserved, stoic people but is capable of losing their temper and showing other emotions, both even have acted almost recklessly on the account of Yuji and Sukuna (Choso fighting Kenjaku the first time and Uraume attacking Gojo)

Has some annoyance towards Kenjaku

Devoted to someone (Choso to Yuji and his brothers, Uraume to Sukuna)

Possesses a body/reincarnated into one

That's how they're similar, but then the differences are almost opposite.

Yuji and Choso's relationship actually had went from worst to better, from what we know from the start Uraume and Sukuna were actually on a common ground (Sukuna was impressed by Uraume's cooking skills and since then they've been pals)

Their powers - Uraume's is ice, blue colored while Choso's is manipulating blood, it has been shown to generate some form of heat due to the pressure and it's red

Their hair colors and styles are even opposite. Choso's is black and is worn up, Uraume's is white and worn down

While both do have a genuine good relationship, Choso does so as a big brother that he really is to Yuji and seeks to protect him. Meanwhile, Uraume is more like a follower and doesn't necessarily protect Sukuna

Currently, Choso fights by Yuji's side, Uraume is fighting elsewhere against Hakari

[thaliagracesgf]

chapter one: the vanishing of will byers

a/n: the first chapter! I really got cooking on this one i was so so excited about it once i started writing! I hope it’s good, i have lots of ideas for the future and have started mapping out where this is going to go. i'm not sure what the overall title of this fic is going to be though... hope you enjoy, and let me know if you’d like to be added to a taglist for this story! reblog, comment, and interact if you enjoy it (or if you don’t)! I’d love to hear all your thoughts <3

wc: 3.9k

divider from @saradika-graphics, images from pinterest

general CWs, not necessarily all in this chapter: drinking, alcoholism, drug abuse, smoking, cancer, hopper being kind of a deadbeat, usual canon violence. not entirely proofread.

masterlist (incl. series)

The sprinklers are going as you turn the corner onto the Wheeler’s street. Your music is turned low, and the windows are rolled down, letting in the early November breeze. You see yellow lights from the basement windows as you pull into the driveway, and the shadows of four middle school boys jumping around. As you stop the car, you can hear complaining drift out through an open window. Mrs. Wheeler must have been telling them their time was up. 

You trip over a rock on your way to the front door, ringing the doorbell and brushing dirt off your hands. “Hi Mr. Wheeler,” you smile as he opens the door. 

“Oh, great another one,” he mutters. You’re pretty sure he thinks you can’t hear him. “Karen! There’s another child at our door.” He turns back to you, probably trying to figure out which one of his children you’re here for. You try not to be offended, as you’re sure you don’t look like a seventh grader, although you wouldn’t put it past Ted Wheeler to not know how old his son is. In his defense, though, you are here for the seventh graders. 

“Hi, sweetheart,” Karen moves past her husband. “Thank you so much for picking them up, I don’t think I’d be able to get them out of that basement. I was down a second ago and three of them were crawling under the tables doing god knows what.”

“It’s no problem, Mrs. Wheeler. Do you mind if I…” You gesture vaguely towards the basement. 

“Please, be my guest.” 

“Or don’t,” her husband adds unhelpfully. You give him an awkward nod as you pass him by. 

“Guys!” You shout from the top few steps of Mike Wheeler’s basement. “Let’s go, I don’t have all day!” 

“What, like you have a date or something?” Mike rushes up past you. 

“Oh, go to hell,” you sneer. You love Mike, you really do. You’ve been babysitting his friends since you were thirteen, and you appreciate the level to which he can match your level of sarcasm and insult that would appear genuine to anyone in the audience. He’d never admit it, but you know he likes that you’re around, too. 

“Dustin! Lucas!” you shout again. “Hurry up!” 

They come bounding up the stairs, Dustin with a pizza box tucked under his arm. “I’m gonna see if Nancy wants a slice,” he says with his mouth full. He’s had a crush on her forever, at this point, and you would find it endearing if you didn’t have a World History quiz to study for that night. 

“Fine. Be fast,” you say, then following behind him. You watch the painful interaction before catching the door as she tries to shut it. 

“Hey, Nance.” 

“Oh, hey, one sec, Barb,” she says, putting the phone down.

“How’re you doing with that essay?” You have to rely on Nancy, because among the bizarre group of friends you’ve found yourself in, she’s the only other one that actually cares about her grades, other than Barb, but she doesn’t really show her face often. Or speak much, if she does. You know that your friends can be intimidating, but you don’t really know how to reach out. You don’t think you have anything in common. 

“Okay, I guess. I can’t figure out how to order all my arguments.” 

“Oh my god, yes, I am having the exact same problem! Study sesh tomorrow, figure it out?” 

She smiles. “Yeah, definitely. One?”

“Yeah, that works. And you can tell me everything you’re telling Barb right now about Steve.” She blushes, looking down at the sleeves of her sweater. 

“Yeah, okay. Sure. Hey, weren’t you just with him?” You were. You’d spent the day driving around with him, Tina, Tommy, and Carol. 

“Yeah,” you smile devilishly. “He wouldn’t stop talking about you.” You turn and head back down the stairs, where you can see the boys getting impatient. 

“Hey! You can’t just leave that there,” she calls after you, and you laugh. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow! One o’clock!”

“Y/N!”

“Bye!”

You rush down the stairs, past Ted Wheeler in his La-Z-Boy, who makes a point to sigh loudly at the noise. You see Will talking to Mike in the garage. He looks upset, but you figure it’s some Dungeons & Dragons thing you won’t understand. “You guys ready?” you ask Lucas and Dustin, and they nod. 

“We’ve been ready,” Lucas adds, impatiently. 

“Okay! Well, we’re going now. Get the bikes in the trunk.” They do as they’re told, however begrudgingly. “Will, you want a ride halfway? You can have shotgun if you want.”

“Yeah!” He smiles, whatever had been bothering him vanishing. “Can I put my bike in, too?” You smile and nod, although it hurts a little how much you see your shy, people-pleasing self in him—his friends wouldn’t have hesitated to toss theirs in, banging up your car, but Will asks, and then fits it gently in the trunk so as to not crash it into the rear of your already beat-up, dysfunctional car. You know it’s probably because the Byers’ don’t have money, either. 

“Yeah, just toss it in.” He wheels it over to his friends, as Mike watches from the garage door. You give him a wave goodnight, and he returns it, although his eyes are watching a rock he’s kicking around with his shoe. 

“Hey! Out!” You snap your fingers at Dustin as he tries to sit in the passenger seat. “Will.” 

Dustin groans, but there’s no point arguing. “This is bullshit,” he grumbles as he moves to the backseat, next to Lucas, who elbows him when he gets too close. 

“Language.” You reach for your CDs, passing them to Will. “Pick out whatever, dude.” And you back out of the Wheeler’s drive. 

You dropped Will off at the top of the hill, by Dustin’s house. He insisted he could make it the rest of the way, and seeing your unsure expression, he assured you that Jonathan was there waiting for him. 

“Alright, sure. Be safe!” You call as he rides away. 

Turning the car around in the Henderson’s driveway, you head back across town to the trailer park. You park your car, grabbing your bag from the back, and trudge up the three steps to your front door. To no one’s surprise, your dad is passed out on the couch, beer cans on the table and pill bottles knocked over. You roll your eyes, tossing the cans in the garbage and screwing the caps back on the bottles before putting him in his bathroom mirror. 

A few years ago, Hopper had gotten bored with the lack of activity in Hawkins, and you came home from school to a wall chopped down. You slept with a tarp covering it for a few weeks, until he had built an extra half of your trailer, making the whole structure look like an “L,” and giving you your own room and, after deliberation on water and electricity bills on his part, bathroom, presumably to stop you coming across the obscene amount of pills in his. Obviously, it did not have the desired effect. 

Unintentionally, you’ve fallen into responsibility for so many people in your life, whether you’re babysitting for Dustin and the Sinclairs, or your father. You think it’s why you’re still friends with the people you are. Tina’s been your best friend since kindergarten, since Sarah died and you moved to Indiana. The two of you plotted to end up friends with Steve and Tommy H, who seemed so cool on the basketball courts at recess. Tommy, and later Carol, were so sure of themselves, so confident in everything they did, and still are now, that though they can be assholes, and you know that they’re assholes, you can’t help but feel lighter around them—they’ve got each other in their perfect, asshole ways, to sort through all their shit, and they leave you out of it. Tina and Steve go along with it all too, sure, Steve especially, but you’re closer with both of them. You take care of each other the way friends are supposed to, none of this caretaker bullshit that you can’t help but take on more of with your family and your kids. Steve, and especially Tina, are there for you in a way your dad hasn’t been since you were little. 

This lack of responsibility, of course, is what leads you to head to your room after microwaving a bowl of pasta, and call Steve about the party he wants to throw at his place when his parents are out of town. 

“Hey,” he picks up. His voice is deep and a little groggy, like maybe he was just falling asleep.

“Sorry, sorry, did I wake you up?”

“Nah, no, you’re good,” he says, sitting himself up. If it were Tommy or Carol, he’d tell them to fuck off and let him sleep. But he’s never able to put down the phone when you’re calling. He doesn’t really know why, he’s never wanted to. 

“Ok. Perfect. I was thinking for drinks we could send Carol in that old lady costume to Bunbury for beers?” Steve snorts on the other end of the line, and you know he’s laughing at the drinking problem he thinks you have. “Oh, shut up,” you scoff. If there’s one thing that you know the looks of, it’s a drinking problem, but Steve’s never been the most tactful. 

“I’d do it, but you know she hates doing it and she was totally pissing me off today,” you excuse yourself from the task, knowing that if you go, you’ll be buying the drinks. They all say they can pay for things for you—read, they all know you and your dad are broke, but they don’t exactly think twice when you end up buying for them, which happens more than you’d care to admit. And you hate to ask them to pay you back. Sophomore year goal: stop being a people pleaser and call out your rich-ass friends who insist on you joining their rich-ass activities. Although, you suppose, there are bigger problems in the world than having friends who are willing to pay to be sure you can do shit with them. The more you try to rationalize it in your head, the more you really start to really hate yourself, so you keep talking. 

“And you know she never listens to me, and then Tommy will be mad, so you’re gonna have to ask her. And probably Tommy, first, so he’ll agree for her, and—”

“You do realize you sound insane, right?” the phone crackles. You hold the phone away from your ear, taking a deep breath before you start snapping at him.

“I’m just trying to make sure we have drinks on Tuesday.” 

“It’ll be fine, don’t worry about it.” You are worried about it, and now a little irritated at him, but you let it go.

“Alright. Goodnight, then,” you say. “Wait! No. Wait. Nancy was talking to Barb about you on the phone.” This might violate some sort of girl code, but if that’s all you’re telling him, and he’s been one of your best friends since the first grade, you hope Nancy can forgive you. It’s irresistibly more fun to listen to Steve beg for more information, and make fun of him later with Tina—and maybe Nancy. 

“That’s all I can say. I’ll have to consult my higher-ups for more information.”

“Nancy Wheeler is your higher-ups, now?”

“Don’t be jealous, Harrington, it’s not my fault she’s cooler than you.” You can hear him roll his eyes over the phone. 

“Goodnight, Steve.” 

“'Night, Y/N.”

You put the phone down, and fall asleep to the frogs and crickets surrounding the trailer park, almost missing the methodic rotation of the Wheelers’ sprinklers. 

A few streets over, the Harringtons’ are going, and Steve Harrington is thinking about Nancy Wheeler, and trying to not think about the fact that you keep floating through his mind instead of her.

When you wake up, your dad is still passed out on the couch. Birds are still chirping outside, and you can hear yelling from the next nearest trailer. You force yourself out of bed, crossing the living room and nudging his shoulder until he wakes up with a start, and his arms reach around, knocking a book off the side table and narrowly missing the lamp. “In the bathroom,” you answer, before he can ask where his meds have gone.

“What time is it?” he mutters groggily. 

“Past eight. You’re going to be late again,” you say as you head to the kitchen. 

“Why aren’t you at school yet?” 

“I don’t have class first period today,” you say, a little frustrated that you have this conversation every Monday, but not letting it show. You pour coffee and butter toast for him before pouring yourself some cereal and slicing a banana. He grunts in response. 

“I have to go, though. So do you,” you drop his food and pill bottles on the coffee table in front of him. He murmurs a “thanks” before turning to the coffee like it’s God. 

“I’ll be home late tomorrow. Don’t wait up.” On the off chance that he’s not out cold by seven, you know he’d assume the worst. Not a kidnapping, or anything crazy. That shit doesn’t happen in Hawkins. But even though you’ve been cancer-free since ‘73, he’s always assuming you’ve spouted a new tumor and died on the side of the road, no matter how many times you, doctors, or the rest of the sane, normal world tells him otherwise. 

“Okay,” he grunts. “Be careful. Make smart choices,” he adds, as if you haven’t been practically raising yourself since you were old enough to cook and ride a bike to school. 

“Yeah, whatever.” You don’t mean to sound like an unbothered teenager, but it’s so difficult to make conversation with your father that you resort to being a shell of yourself until you make it to school and your friends. Hell, Erica Sinclair makes better conversation than Jim Hopper. 

You finish your cereal in silence, rinsing the bowl in the sink before grabbing your backpack. 

“Have a good day at work, Dad.” And you leave the house, letting the screen swing shut behind you, and leaving the front door open to hopefully air out a bit of the overwhelming cigarette smell that’s embedded permanently in all your furniture. Not that you don’t smoke, but never at home. Your Dad would flip his shit about cancer, as if there isn’t Agent Orange probably still running through your blood already. 

You drive to school with a Leonard Cohen C.D. going. There are a million things running through your mind, but none at all at the same time. The party. Your Dad. Sarah, weirdly enough. You don’t think about her a whole lot, but of course she comes up when you have a million other things going on. World History test. Mrs. Click. The Byzantine Empire. Your dad. Drinking. Tina’s Halloween party, which was a week ago, where you had the time of your life dancing with your best friend after begging your father for weeks to ignore it on patrol. Nancy Wheeler. Shit, that study date. You’d almost forgotten. And— fuck, of course you’d forgotten to bring your lunch. You check your watch—you think you have enough time to grab something from the store on the way. 

You speed into the parking lot, going a million miles per hour, but hey, if there’s one thing you’ve got going for you in this town, it’s that no one who works for your dad is going to arrest or ticket you after he cut his own salary to make up for theirs. 

You fly through the store, grabbing an apple, a bag of lettuce and some shit for a basic salad you’ll shake up at lunch. It’s not much, but the deli isn’t open yet, and you aren’t going to buy an entire loaf of bread for one PB&J. As you’re checking out, don’t notice Jonathan Byers until his total comes up short. 

“Oh, here,” you say without thinking, giving him the last dollar he needs. “You also have a late start this morning?”

“Thanks. Uh…” he hesitates. He’s not used to you speaking to him unless the boys are involved, although you would consider the two of you to be friends. “No, um…” 

You don’t really take note of his pause, tossing your lettuce on the conveyor belt. 

“You didn’t see Will last night, did you?” You freeze, fear shooting through your body. 

“Um, yeah, I drove him to Mirkwood. He didn’t make it home? He told me you were waiting for him.” You look over at Jonathan, but avoid his eyes. What if something terrible has happened to Will, and it’s because you let him bike home alone?

“I had a last minute shift,” he mumbles. “Did you… did you see him go home?” 

“Yeah, he took off in the right direction. Jonathan, what happened? Is he missing?”

“Um… we don’t know yet. I— forget I said anything, sorry,” he starts trudging away. 

“Wait, Jonathan, is he okay?” you call after him, panicked. “Byers!” But he’s gone, out the door. And, you realize too late, you’re a dollar short for your fucking lunch. 

You’ve haven’t been thinking straight since you ran into Jonathan, and you’re pretty sure you failed the Byzantine test, although Nancy is trying to convince you otherwise as you sit in your corner of the library, sharing the measly salad you’ve scraped together and the ten-bajillion course meal that Karen packed her. On a normal day, you’d have time to think about how jealous that makes you, but your mind hasn’t left the frenzied state it was in even before learning that Will might be missing. 

“Your essay looks great, Y/N. I checked it for grammar and spelling, so you’re all good there. I think you just need to work on a thesis that makes a little more sense, and then you’re done.” You groan. You love Nancy and her feedback, but you had really been hoping she would say “Perfect!” or “No notes!” or “Great job, Y/N, you can go take a ten year nap, now!”

“Okay,” you pull the paper back across the table. “Yours is great, too, just switch those two paragraphs and then edit them to make them flow, if that makes sense,” you brush bread crumbs off her essay and slide it over to her.

She nods. “That’s perfect, that’s exactly what I was thinking.” A peaceful silence falls upon the pair of you as you eat your lunch, and for a second you feel the November sun filtering through the windows of the Hawkins High Library, and ignore your creeping anxiety that something is very, very, wrong.

“So. How are things?” you ask, smiling behind your hand at Nancy. 

She feigns innocence. “Hm? I don’t know what you mean.” She closes her mouth around her sandwich. 

“Ugh. Fine. We… made out this morning. He left a note in my locker.”

“Classic.”

“I don’t know… he’s really sweet, and, you know, he’s fun— funny. And fun.”

“All true.” 

“I guess I’m a little worried… I mean, he kind of has a reputation. I don’t want to end up, like, totally humiliated.”

“I don’t think he’ll do that, Nance. Honestly. I think he doesn’t realize he’s doing anything half the time—he’s not that… aware… of other people. But he seems like he really likes you, and wants to get to know you.”

She smiles, looking down at her food. “Yeah, yeah he does.” 

Suddenly there’s a commotion at the doors. A loud “shush” comes from the circulation desk. 

“I’m sorry to bother you, ma’am—” Your head flies around. You know that voice. “I was told that Ms. Hopper might be in here? I just need to speak with her for a few minutes.” 

“She usually sits over there,” the librarian gestures to where you’re already standing, deciding whether to collect your stuff. Nancy’s stood beside you, biting her lip. 

”Callahan?” you pester as you follow him through the hallway. “What’s going on, is everything okay? Is my Dad okay?”

“Yeah, you’re Dad’s fine. He’s right in there.” 

What the hell is going on? You push the glass door to the office open, slinging your bag off your shoulder and on to the ground as you give your father a confused look. One that turns to concern when you finally put two and two together. 

“Will.” Your dad sees your expression. He knows how much you care about these kids, and he’s quick to try to reassure you.

“Just… just take a seat, okay? I just have a couple questions about the last time you saw him, I didn’t want to wait until tonight—”

“I drove him almost the whole way to his house last night.” You interrupt. “I dropped him off just past the Hendersons’ house, he told me Jonathan would be there,” your voice speeds up, evident anxiety growing, “but I guess he picked up an extra shift, and—” he cuts you off. 

“Hey, hey, hey.” He pulls you into a hug, and you do start crying then. This is too much, this is your fucking fault, and if Will’s found dead in a ditch it’s going to be all your fault. “He’s going to be okay, okay? I already told Joyce, 99 out of a hundred times, a kid goes missing, kid is with a parent or relative. Lonnie probably—” 

“His father’s psychotic!” You push yourself free from his hold on you “I saw him make them cry like a thousand times, Dad!  I wouldn’t be surprised if he fucking hit them! If Will’s with him, he’s not safe!” Your voice is catching in your throat. 

“And we’re going to go find him, okay? He’ll be okay, I just need— I just need you to stay calm, go home, and just— just stay there.” 

“I can help look for him, I can—” 

“Y/N. Go. Home.” He gives you a pointed stare, and you feel so small standing next to him, even though you got a bit of his height. “Look, we’re sending out search parties. We have people going to Lonnie. He’s going to be okay.” When you don’t respond, he repeats himself firmly. “He’s going to be okay.” 

You take a deep breath and nod. “I’ll see you at home, kid.” 

You push past Officer Callahan, who totally just watched your embarrassing breakdown, and back into the hallway. You assume your father meant for you to go home after your classes, but even if he didn’t, you aren’t skipping chem. There’s another fucking test tommorow, and you’re not missing this free study session. 

Nancy takes note of your distraught look as you enter the classroom and sit down on the stool by hers, even though you had tried to rinse your eyes with cold water on the way over. 

“What was that all about?” She asks. 

“Nothing,” you make something up. “My dad realized I forgot my lunch at home, but it was a little late…” 

“And he sent an armed guard to escort you to pick it up?” She laughs. For a second, you think she’s onto you, but you realize she’s joking as she turns away to focus on the board, where your teacher is balancing an equation. You fucking hate chemistry.

AHHHHHHHHHHH thank you for reading all this!!!! this is insane!!! i love her so much! writing this slow burn is going to KILL MEEE. pls like, reblog, interact to encourage more of my writing and let me know what you think!

xoxo, thaliagracesgf (real)

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