#I’m not sure how to credit so let me know if I messed something up

[nixienewt]

Hu Ru Daxian from Even Rainfall Has Shadows by @lumidotexe in a backless dress :D

[fxllfaiiry]

❥ It's so sweet, knowing that you love me

★ pairing: miguel o'hara x fem!reader

★ summary: miguel knows you're pregnant, the only problem is he doesn't know how to to tell you. ─ or the time miguel found out before you.

★ warnings: fluff!! usage of many pet names, angst if you squint, miguel being a simp for his wife, pregnancy stuff, swearing, some shitty humor.

★ notes: there aren't enough dad and husband miguel fics out there so i had to write this!! icon credits: @/natashowlet

Miguel knew something was off, he’s known for days.

You’ve recently been throwing up, having odd cravings and random mood swings. At first, he thought you might be sick, you thought the same thing but now he knows it's not that. You were definitely pregnant. Everything adds up, and all of it made sense, then again he could be totally wrong. 

He made up his mind to try and talk to you once you returned home, he would surprise you with a romantic dinner and bring up the subject. He had about an hour to prepare everything. 

Well, that's what he thought, the second he got up to start preparing, you waltzed in through the door. 

“Mi Amor, I’m home.” Why are you home this early? He wanted to surprise you. 

“Mami, why are you home so early?” He says pulling you into a bear hug, usually, he would squish you completely but right now he wasn't sure that’d be the best idea. 

“What, aren't you happy to see me?” You chuckle. 

“No, no I'm really happy, I was just gonna cook you a surprise dinner that's all,”  he replies bashfully

“Aw, that's so sweet.” You threw your arms around him, placing kisses wherever you could reach. “I have the best husband ever.” 

“And I have the most amazing wife, now come on let’s go make something to eat.” He scoops you up in his arms and carries you bridal style towards the kitchen. He desperately wants to bring up the topic of you possibly being pregnant but now was not the best time, he didn't want to ruin the moment. 

This conversation could wait till tomorrow, right now he just wanted to enjoy some time with his wife.  

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“Good night, Miggy.” His head was buried into your neck, his arms were secured somewhat tightly around your belly, and your smaller hands were coving his bigger ones. 

He thought about bringing up the topic right now but quickly scratched off that idea.

He was so tired from the day's activities, he could fall asleep instantly.

He could hear you slowly drifting off, your breathing calming him down and lulling him into slumber... well almost. 

Just as he was on the verge of falling asleep he heard something ─ or rather someone. 

He could hear another heartbeat. Coming right from you. He thought he was going crazy at first, but the closer he listened, the clearer it got. He was right, you were pregnant.

Holy shit. You were pregnant. He was going to be a dad. 

In all this, it occurs to him that you didn't even know yet, he would have to tell you tomorrow no matter what.

He’s so happy. He finally has another chance, he won't mess up this time. He would do anything to protect you both.

But what if you didn't want kids just yet? The topic of kids has come up before and you both want them, but what if you changed your mind? There were so many things that could go wrong but Miguel tried to push all the negative thoughts away and focused on falling asleep. 

He slept like a baby that night. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── 

“So, honey, I was hoping to talk to you about something.” He avoided having the conversation all morning, now he needed to tell you. 

“What is it, Miggy?” You sit down looking at him expectantly. You could see that he was nervous, it was obvious by the way he was acting. “Is everything okay?” 

“Yes, everything is fine, mi corazón, don't worry.” How should he start? Should he just jump straight into it or start off slow? He should have thought about this before, well no time to do that now. 

He took a deep breath and it all came rushing out “I think, actually no, I know that you’re pregnant.”  

Silence. You were too stunned to speak. 

“Excuse me?” There was pure shock written all over your face, he would’ve laughed if the situation was different. 

“I heard 2 heartbeats last night, one was yours and the other one was -”

“Are you sure? I mean are you 100% sure? Maybe you heard something else?” You didn't want to get your hopes up just yet, you always wanted a baby with Miguel but if this turned out to be a false alarm you would be a little crushed. 

“I’m 9.99% sure. Bebé, if you want we can get a pregnancy test done?”

“Yeah okay, let’s do it.” 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

An hour later both of you stood in the bathroom. Three minutes felt like hours right now. 

You might be pregnant. This isn't some crazy dream.

“Bebé, if you don’t want to keep the baby I absolutely respect tha-” He’s still not sure if you’re happy with this or not. He was worried he messed up in some way. 

“No, I want to keep the baby but I just don't want to get my hopes up just yet. I definitely want to have a baby with you.” You wrap your arms around him, his scent calmed you down. You were going to be okay. 

“I want to have a baby with you too,” he whispers. 

You lean up to give him a kiss, your hands gently coming up to stoke his cheeks. Miguel pulled back and mutters, “I love you.”  

“Love you too.” A moment later you both heard the timer going off. This was it. 

You slowly step forward picking up the stick and turning it around. 

Positive. You were pregnant. 

“Well, what does it say?” This whole thing is making him feel so anxious. 

“We’re having a baby.” His wife is carrying his baby, this is real, he isn't dreaming. 

“I knew it! I was right.” He pulls you off the ground and into a hug, placing kisses all over your face while muttering small “thank you’s” and “I love you’s” 

“I can't believe we’re gonna have a mini O’Hara running around soon,” you giggle kissing his jawline. 

“She’s going to be just like her mother. ” Knowing a mix of you and him was going to be here soon made him feel content. 

“How do you know they're gonna be a girl, hm?” 

“Just… a small feeling.” His small feeling would be proven right 9 months later.

[straykeedz]

i should be getting ready to go to bed since i have classes early in the morning, and i definitely shouldn’t be thinking about

dad!changbin

who would be utterly in love with his child from the second he finds out you’re expecting a mini version of you and him. he’d cry when you announce him you’re pregnant, handing him a small box containing two positive tests and an ultrasound;

and no, i’m not talking about teary eyes and pouty lips, i’m talking proper sobbing as he envelops you in a heartfelt hug and cries tears of pure happiness and joy because his dream is finally coming true - a family with you;

he would be next to you 25/8, never leaving your side, making sure you’re feeling alright and that everything’s okay with you and the baby. he’d have his hands on your belly all the time, and when he’s not touching it, he’s kissing it, whispering sweet words to the baby growing inside of you, a baby he can’t wait to meet;

he’d talk to the baby all the time, i’m sure of it. telling it about his day, or the new song he’s producing these days - a very special song about a very special someone he hasn’t met yet, but whom he already loves with his whole heart.

he’d keep the very first ultrasound inside his wallet, and when he’s taking a break from rehearsal or recording sessions or dance practices he’d pull it out to look at it, smiling like an idiot;

he’d treat you like a queen. he already does, of course, being the gentleman he is - but if you’re pregnant with a child? you’re not lifting a finger inside the house. he’s doing everything: the cleaning, the cooking, the dusting, everything. and don’t you even think about protesting or trying to do the house chores anyways, are you kidding?;

and he cries so, so much when he hears the heartbeat of your baby for the first time…;

don’t even get me started on him feeling the baby kick for the first time! he’d get so excited and would desperately try to make your baby kick again and again and again and again until - “binnie, sweetie, it’s two am. please leave the baby alone so we can get some rest.” but would definitely try again in the morning;

at first - he wouldn’t want to find out if you’re expecting a boy or a girl, he doesn’t really care. all that matters to him is that the baby is healthy - that the both of you are healthy, that’s the most important thing to him;

but when the doctor accidentally reveals that you’re expecting a girl… here come the waterworks. he would’ve cried either way, let’s be real, but a little girl? a mini version of you?;

he’d start thinking of the perfect name as soon as you find out the sex. hell, he’d start buying toys and plushies and clothes for your baby girl - you’d have to threaten him to block his credit card after he comes home with two huge bags full of stuff for the baby;

and let’s be real he’d definitely bring home a giant dwaekki plushie so that your little girl could fall asleep next to it cuddling it once she’s born;

they’d be the best nine months of his life, for real. but when you’re in labor and about to deliver the baby? that’s when his anxiety and his insecurities would kick in - what if he won’t be a good father? he doesn’t know how to be one after all, so what if he messes up? what if he can’t be enough for the both of you?;

but all of his worries would instantly vanish when his eyes would meet those of his baby girl. she has his eyes, big and playful, staring right into his soul as he feels something he’s never felt before, a love that fills all of his heart and soul, a love that makes him complete;

you’d have to hug him and pat his back and dry his tears for literal hours after your baby girl says her first word - “appa”;

he’d be your baby girl’s best friend and partner in crime, i’m sure of that. you’d come back home and find the living room turned upside down, toys scattered all over the floor and a blanket fort built with the cushions of your couch, but you can’t mad when you notice the loves of your life asleep on the fluffy carpet, both dressed up as princesses, with little crowns and tutus and everything, as a disney cartoon plays in the background?;

and when your little girl suddenly shows interest in playing basketball? changbin would literally run to the store and buy a mini hoop the next day and play with her. and definitely give you the side-eye and pout at you when you’d make a silly comment about how “now this is a hoop that matches your height”, but he’d let it slide, because if there’s someone who can make fun of him it’s you - he knows you don’t mean it anyway;

he’d let his baby girl paint his nails any color she wants, or let her braid and style his hair - more like pull it until tears fall from his eyes, but how could he get mad at her once he notices her satisfied expression once she’s done putting unicorn bobby pins in his hair?;

and he’d try his best to learn how to braid your daughter’s hair, but no matter how effort he puts into it, he’ll never be as good as you. a messy braid is the result of an experiment which involved three broken hair ties (don’t ask) and a youtube tutorial - and for a second there he’s scared she’s going to burst into tears once she sees the final look. instead, she smiles at him, and then hugs him as tight as she can, saying that he’s “the best appa”. and changbin is the one who bursts into tears;

he’s “the best appa” also when he buys your daughter the dinosaur plushie she wanted so bad;

and his heart would break when he’d pick up his baby at kindergarten the one day and sees her cry, teardrops running down her beautiful, puffy cheeks. all because of a little boy who made fun of her for having a dinosaur toy instead of a doll. and changbin would explain to her that “there’s nothing wrong with liking dinosaurs more than dolls”, and would giggle when her daughter would calmly explain that “but i like playing with dolls too, appa”. so, at the next tea party, changbin would be sitting between the t-rex plushie and a barbie;

one day, he’d be helping you carrying the groceries inside when he’d notice a blue box peeking from inside the bag. you’d try to hide it as quickly as possible once you start sorting the groceries out, but you’re not quick enough. “is this what i think it is?” he’d ask. and you’d sigh, handing him the small carton box. a pregnancy test. “is- are you- are we?” his brain would short-circuit. you’d tell him that you don’t know, you aren’t 100% sure, but your period’s late;

and he’d ask you to take it immediately, heart hammering inside his chest. part of him is incredibly thrilled, another part of him is terribly scared. but happiness is the feeling that prevails in his heart;

three minutes later, two lines show up on the white plastic stick, but he doesn’t cry. not yet. what he does, is run to the closest convenience store and buy four more tests. all positive;

only then, he’d cry. so hard that his daughter would come up to him, concerned, pull him by the t-shirt and ask him “what’s wrong, appa? are you sad?” and he’d kneel down before your daughter, drying his own tears as he shakes his head and tells her that “no, appa’s not sad. appa’s happy, because you’re going to be a big sister.”;

crying as well, you’d also kneel down next to them, and changbin would pull the two of you in a tight - but not too tight - hug, then kiss you and your daughter on top of your heads as he repeats that “i love you so much.” over and over and over and over again.

yeah, i think i’ll go outside and touch some grass after this 🥹

-> don’t forget to reblog if you like my works; “it’s good for motivation” my man chris bang once said. ♡

[vhagarlovebot]

NOT GOOD ENOUGH.

♡. ── gif credit. ; ( aemond targaryen masterlist. )

pairing: aemond targaryen x fem!reader

summary: you haven't consummated your marriage and your husband is the only one with an answer.

content warnings: +18, smut if you squint, a bit angsty, fluff, aemond being an insecure little baby.

note: if there are any grammatical errors i apologize, english is not my first language! hope you enjoy.

YOU MARRIED AEMOND TARGWRYEN four moons ago knowing that he had some issues. a lot of them. but the heart wants what it wants and yours has aemond’s name on it.

if you ask someone about aemond’s weakness, they would tell you he does not have one. but those who live in the red keep know that the prince weakness is his lady wife. and you know aemond would not hesitate on burning king’s landing and everyone in it if something happens to you. you’d never question is love for you.

however, you have been feeling sad and unattractive, so undesirable, for some time now. but at this point it’s not even about you.

today you did not see each other all day, not even at dinner. that’s why when your husband enters your chambers, he’s meet with you jumping on him, your lips immediately finding their way to his neck. but while you’re leaving hot and wet kisses on his pale skin, aemond does not know what to do. sure he can surrender to pleasure, but then what? of course he has kiss you before and you two have done other things. things that involve him rutting into you fully clothed, making a mess in his trousers but not letting you help when you happily and still hot volunteer to do it with your mouth.

he grabs you by the waist and pulls away, a hard expression on his face. “i’m not in the mood.” he simply says, walking away to start taking off his clothes for bed.

“don’t you find me attractive?” you fidget, bitting your lip and looking straight to the floor. “i-i mean we never… you never…” you shrug, the words not leaving your mouth even though you have a lot to say.

your husband stays silent and you think you have upset him, until he’s back in front of you, his hands grabbing yours and guiding you with him to the bed.

he sits with you between his legs. his touch soft and gentle goes up your arms, to your neck and stops on your cheeks, making you look directly into his eye. “there’s no more beautiful woman than you, my wife.” but there is no reaction from you and he knows this is all his fault.

the last time he tried to be with a woman, he ran out. to this day his older brother stills makes fun of him.

he sighs, he knows what he has to do and this time he’s not backing away. his right hand goes back to yours, this time guiding it to rest on the bulge between his legs. you blush and try to pull your hand away, but aemond won’t let you.

he’s shaking, his face with that light pink that tells you he’s nervous. and you want to make him feel better but you also want to know what is going on inside that pretty head of his.

you give his cock a light squeeze through his clothes and he groans, his forehead going to rest on your stomach while you jerk him out.

and so he starts talking. and he tells you about that time on his thirteenth name day, his first and last time with a woman. and why he has not been with one since then. all of them scared to see what’s under the eyepatch; scared of the crippled prince. he has heard the ladies talk about how handsome he would be if it were not for his missing eye, disgusted for having to see that thing while he fucks them.

aemond does not want you to go through that, he knows how disgusting he is.

he has tears in his eyes and you don’t know if it is for the pleasure your giving him or the awful things he’s saying. but you keep going, touching him through his trousers, sweet nothings whispered in his ear until he’s a trembling moaning mess clinging to you.

but you don’t stop there. you take your time to undress the both of you, kissing every new spot of skin on him that comes into view. you’re waiting to be stopped at any minute but he let’s you keep going until you’re both presenting yourselves bare in front of the other for the first time.

“i married you, did i not?” you sit on his lap and slowly start moving your hips, a low groan coming from him at that new sensation. "and it was my choice. i could have run away but i stay and you know why?" you swallow a moan by biting your lips, your hands going for his eyepatch. but aemond immediately stops you with the hand that's not in your waist. however, you brush it away and as you remove the last piece of clothing from him, you leave kisses along the scar.

when you look at him without his eyepatch for the first time you think about two things. the first one being wanting to find out who those ladies are, so you can have them remove from court at once. and the second one being how that sapphire suits him so well.

"because i love you as i have never loved anyone until now." you trace his scar, mesmerized by the gem. "and if you let me," reaching between your bodies, you guide his cock to your entrance. a moan escapes your lips as aemond's hips jerk up slighly, his hands gripping your waist. "i would like to show you how much i really love you, my dear husband."

[dazednmatthews]

hey hot stuff i’m feeling the need to be self indulgent (feel free to ignore me LOL) but a matt headcanon with his gf in the middle of exams? late night study sesh and such🥹 i love you

- mads 🪽(@hollandsangel)

bf!matt x stressed college gf headcanons

sorry this took so long!! i had a… hectic day to say the least. i hope this does ur request justice 🫶🏾 i love u bad

-matt is the type of bf to never ever want to see you stressed

-he’s gonna do whatever he possibly can to take the pressure off your shoulders

-so when exam season comes up and you start to get kind of distant because you’re so stressed, this mf is the most attentive, doting man ever

-“i’m just so stressed. my bio exam is in three days and my english lit exam is in 5 and i have to do so many chores and pick up this stupid cake for my mom—”

-“go to the library and study. give me the time and place to pick up the cake and i’ll use my key to get into your apartment. don’t worry about a thing, sweetheart.”

-he would respect your space when you needed it and when you wanted to study alone

-“i wanna see you matt but i really need to memorize this chapter tonight. i can’t, i’m sorry.”

-“it’s okay, baby. i understand, school comes first right now.”

-you love him so much for that cause he never makes you or lets you feel guilty for the lack of time together

-he definitely brings you your favorite snacks, water, and meals to the library when you stay late

-“i’m not staying, i know you need to focus. but i also know you haven’t eaten today and i can’t have that.”

-when you do want company, he is hands down the best study partner

-he will deadass read the chapters you have memorize just to make sure he can quiz you

-helps you make color coded flash cards

-“it means… fuck i can never fucking remember this one.” you’re chewing on your pen cap racking your brain for the definition of a chapter concept you know you know. you can feel the slight hysteria building as matt sits patiently, gentle eyes pleading with you to go easy on yourself. “i’m never gonna fucking pass.”

-matt puts down the flash cards, careful not to mess up the order. he comes around to the side of his bed that you’re on, squatting down between your open legs. he’s rubbing his thumb in circles on your thighs with one hand as he removes your head from your hands with his other. “you are the smartest and most capable person i know. you have been working your ass off for this. you need to give yourself some more credit, sweetheart. cause i have no doubt you can do it.” he swipes at the frustrated tears pooling in your eyes and gives you the most honey sweet smile you’ve ever seen.

-you tend to overwork yourself a lot so he insists on breaks every couple hours

-you almost always protest in favor of getting as much work done as possible but he always wins the argument

-“baby, i can’t take another break. i’m so behind. i haven’t even done half of what i wanted to!”

-“last break we took was four hours ago y/n. you’re going to drive yourself crazy if you don’t give yourself some time to relax.”

-he takes you to get food or even just a short drive listening to the playlist you guys made together, talking and laughing about anything other than school

-sometimes you sit in the living room w all the triplets and watch them argue about something hilarious

-he’s always right and it always works

-when you finally finish reviewing all the material you needed to, you flop down on his bed with a heavy sigh

-“i’m so fucking happy i finished on time.”

-“i knew you would. you’re gonna fucking ace it tomorrow.”

-“yeah i hope. i had the best study partner in the world.”

-you spend the night before your exams in his extremely soft bed and his extremely serene arms, him kissing away the nerves that threaten to choke you. every so often he’ll whisper sweet nothings of how good you’re gonna do, how proud of you he is and how smart you are, making your heart swell.

-the day of your exams you wake up to the sweetest note with a smoothie made (he didn’t go to bed until like 7am that morning anyway)

-“you’ve got this, baby! you’re gonna fucking kill it. take your time and trust yourself. i love you -m”

-you feel on top of the world knowing the most amazing man you’ve ever met believes in you so much

-after your exams are done, you wait until you’re back at his house to view your scores online

-“you ready?” matt says, looking at you with nothing but love and light.

-“no, but fuck it. lets get this over with.”

-you of course get the best scores imaginable

-you celebrate like you won the fucking lottery, jumping in his arms and shrieking in hysterical delight

-he is just as, maybe even more excited

-“that’s my fucking girl! i knew you could do it.”

-and he spends the entire night showing you just how proud of you he really is

[lightsoutletsgo]

gotta go my own way — ln.4

pairing: lando norris x reader

word count: 1.3k

warnings: angst to absolute crack and stupidity that makes no sense

request: Hi, can you do an angsty fic inspired by “I gotta go my own way” from HSM2. If can either be Charles or Lando or Charlando and they fuck up or something and reader leaves them? Maybe hurt/no comfort? It’s okay if you don’t want to

I fully thank @norrizzandpia for the hot mess that is the end of this fic. we couldn't stop cry laughing once we pictured the rest of the grid watching them sing the song and thus the end of the fic was born. (also credits to them bc I stole some of the dialogue lines they sent to my dm's!) happy reading! mimi 🤍 (I'm so so sorry if this isn't the request fill you were hoping for 😭)

taglist (all works): @arieslost - babe I'm so sorry I'm tagging you in this mess

“Y/N wait!!” You heard Lando call your name from the opposite side of the hotel courtyard and you turned to see him sprinting after you. You stopped and rested your suitcase next to you as he reached you, “Where are you going? Baby we can talk about this!” His hand reached for your arm and you stepped back with a sigh, “Lando… Listen…” He looked at you, pleading as he searched your face, “I guess I just need to say it straight right?” Your heart clenched, god knows this wasn’t easy, “Something about us just… doesn’t seem right these days…” You tried to speak as gently as possible, wanting Lando to understand you weren’t mad at him. “Neither one of us can help it, I know that, but it feels like whatever we try and do somehow the plan is always rearranged…” You trailed off, stepping back towards him and taking his hand gently. You didn’t look up at him, instead choosing to look at where his hand was now gently squeezing yours, his thumb rubbing back and forth in a soothing motion. Whether it was to soothe you or himself you weren’t sure but you took a deep breath to calm yourself. 

He didn’t say a thing, just gave you the space to continue talking, “I knew what I signed up for when I started dating you and if I went back and did it all over again I wouldn’t change my mind. I guess I just didn’t expect that it would affect my life so much? My job, my friends, my family?” Your eyes flitted up to his and you noticed how there were tears now pricking the corner of his eyes. “So what are you saying?” Your bottom lip trembled as you shrugged apologetically, “I’ve got to move on and be who I am…” It was so silent that you hardly dared to breathe. “Lando I’ve tried, I really really have but… Losing my privacy? Losing my time with the other people I love? Sacrificing my job? I just-” Lando scoffed and took his hand away from you “But what about us? What about everything we’ve been through?” “Well what about trust and everything that I’ve given up for you?!” You couldn’t help the way you raised your voice, Lando flinched at your words, seeming to realise how blind he’d been about your struggles, 

“You know I never wanted to hurt you…” You nodded and almost shrunk in on yourself, “I know…” Lando approached you slowly, not wanting to make you feel pressured or smothered, “I just need to know… Do you not love me anymore?” You let out a forced laugh as your eyes welled up with tears, “Do I not love you anymore? Lando I still love you so much that it’s killing me to do this but I know I have to-” “Why? If you still love me then why?!” “Because if I don’t leave you now then I’ll continue to give up everything else for you because I love you that damn much but maybe for a while I need to love myself!” You ranted, panting when you finished. 

He inhaled sharply and you couldn’t help but let the tears fall as you spoke quietly, “I’m sorry- “Don’t apologise. You have nothing to be sorry for.” His voice was firm,  “I have to go, my flight is in a couple of hours.” “I’ll miss you.” His voice was even softer, barely audible even though you were so close to him. “Who knows… maybe we’ll find our place in the world someday?” Lando gave a weak smile, “Yeah, maybe we will… Can I hug you? Just once more and then I swear, I’ll let you leave.” You nodded, unable to speak as you started crying harder.

Lando pulled you into his arms, as he too felt the tears start to fall, “I know you need to do this but it still really fucking hurts…” “I know Lando,” You pulled back to gently cup his face, “I gotta go my own way…” You smiled with a shrug. He pulled you closer to him and gently pressed a kiss to your forehead, your eyes closing as you inhaled deeply. “I’ll see you round?” “Yeah,” You grabbed the handle of your suitcase and started to walk towards the door, “I’ll see you around.” ✩ ♬ ₊.🎧⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩ ♬ ₊.🎧⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩ ♬ ₊.🎧⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Alex sat on the balcony of his hotel room that overlooked the courtyard, enjoying the cool night air. The door opened and out stumbled Oscar and Logan, their eyes glassy from the alcohol they’d been drinking at the afterparty. Alex chuckled, “Steady on guys.” Logan gave him a hazy half-lidded smile, “I’m okay!” Alex snorted, “Sure you are.” He turned his attention back to his laptop where his movie was paused. “Oh look! There’s Lando and Y/N!” Alex followed where Oscar was pointing to see you dragging your suitcase and Lando running after you. “Oooo I missed them! Should I call them over? HEY LA- MMPH!” Logan’s shout was muffled by Alex darting to cover his mouth, “I think they’re fighting?” Oscar looked sad as Logan tapped Alex’s arm to release him, “Surely not? They’re the perfect couple?” Alex leaned over the balcony, thankful that it was quiet enough that they could hear some of the conversation.

“What’s up guys?” The door on the balcony of the room next door slid open and out stepped George and Charles, “Lando and Y/N are fighting?” “Lando and Y/N? There’s no way! They’ll work it out.” Charles said confidently shrugging. Oscar’s brows furrowed suddenly, “Are you guys hearing that music too?” George frowned and craned his ears, “Why does that sound like High School Musical?” “Alex, is your film playing?” Logan asked innocently, “You were watching High School Musical?” Oscar snickered, “NO!” “I don’t know if I should be more concerned that we’re hearing music coming from nowhere or that George knew what it was straight away…” George scoffed at Charles, “Excuse me but the second movie has the best songs.” 

“Is no one else concerned that it’s coming from where Lando and Y/N are?” Oscar pointed out. “Oh God they’re singing.” Alex’s jaw dropped open, “Shut up they’re not?” “I promise you they are.” George and Charles paused for a moment to look at each other before scrambling out of George’s room and down the hallway to Alex’s. They burst into the room and pushed their way onto the balcony, squishing in between Oscar and Alex to lean over the railing. Charles slapped a hand over his mouth as he heard Lando sing the next line very loudly and out of tune, “Are they high?” George pondered out loud, “What exactly is going on?” “Well it can’t be a fight, there’s no way that’s a fight.” Logan spoke matter of factly, “Do you think they’re aware of what they’re doing?” Their expressions varied as you warbled out a somewhat high note, 

“More than that, do you think they know we can hear them?” Logan’s hand came up to cover his ear, “Should we stop them?” Charles asked, “Nope!” “Absolutely not.” George and Alex spoke across each other as Oscar’s phone appeared out of nowhere in his hand and he held it up to start filming. “Are they okay?” Nobody answered Logan, instead just watching you and Lando, until they heard a cough from above them. Leaning back against the balcony and tipping their heads to look up they saw Carlos looking down at them, “That, my friends, is debatable. But it is entertaining, no?” Everyone’s attention turned back to the two of you as the song came to an end and you walked away from Lando, “Oh my god guys, I think that was actually them breaking up.” Logan stated as everyone stood there in shock. Nobody spoke for a moment until Carlos’ voice filtered down from the balcony above, “Also I’ve been out here the entire time and would like to let you know that Alex was actually watching Camp Rock.” 

[peterparkersnose]

I Need You More Than I Wanted To

pairing: Din Djarin x reader

word count: 3k

warnings: needy din, lowkey out of character but idc, pining possibly one sided, lots of begging, angst, description of y/n’s body, masturbation reference if you squint HARD, sappy speeches at the end, arguing, lots of angst (bc angst is my favorite)

a/n i’ve had this idea in my drafts for MONTHS so i’m so happy i’ve gotten around to writing it.

summary Y/N overhears a damaging conversation between Din and Greef Karga

masterlist

join the tag list

read time: 11 mins 8 seconds

Din’s heart ached like no other watching you these past few days. The silent suffering, the longing, and the pain he has been observing was hard to watch; the hardest part was that he was the reason for this.

He knew you like the back of his hand. For years the two of you have been traveling the galaxy, searching for as many credits as possible and managing to have a fun time while doing it. Living life with you is how Din preferred it. It was carefree. The two of you made a great team and wanted to live lavishly one day. That was the dream, at least. The two of you saved credits like crazy, but it never seemed to be enough to purchase a palace. Once the kid came along everything changed. The sudden dream of living large seemed to fade over the horizon. Something clicked. The two of you were now parents.

When Greef mentioned to him about you when the two of you visited the new Nevarro, Din was sure he was just messing with him.

“Are you two finally together?”

The question confused Din.

“You know, the way she looks at you. That’s love.”

Din was shocked. Had he really been that clueless?

“That’s impossible,” Din responded. Greef laughed. “You're telling me that if she made the first move, you wouldn’t reciprocate it?”

A strict “No” came from Din. “Never.”

The child cooed and the two men turned around. There you stood in the doorway, waiting for them to finish their conversation. The exact conversation you had just overheard.

Your mouth slightly dropped. The expression on your face was shocked. You quickly blinked and closed your mouth, trying to mask your disappointment. But Din knew. Maybe it was enough to fool Greef Karga, but Din knew he had just hurt the person he cared for the most deeply.

“H-he wanted you,” you said silently, not expecting your voice to quiver. You set down Grogu on the red velvet couch. Din nodded. Your lip quivered as you stared at him through the visor in pure shock. With hurt in your eyes, you excused yourself to the shared quarters the two of you were given for the time of your stay.

“And that…” Greef began. Din scooped up Grogu in his arms. Grogu made a noise and grunted, seemingly wanting to now leave his father and attend to his heartbroken mother. He squirmed in Din’s arms until he let him down.

“That was the look of heartbreak.”

The next few days on Nevarro were filled with a cold distance. Neither you nor Din wanted to discuss the elephant in the room. Simple words were exchanged in the interest of the child, but that was about it.

It was your last night on Nevarro.

Din had been at the cantina with Greef Karga and some of his associates, celebrating the newly liberated Nevarro. You had gone to bed early, staying with Grogu.

You were surprised Din even agreed to go out, he hated outings such as drinking with friends. If things weren’t so heated at the moment, he would have much rather preferred a night staying in with you and watching some stupid show on your datapad and eating whatever your heart desired.

The sun had been set for hours. You were lounging in your satin red sleep robe that was complimentary given to you upon your arrival. The beautiful braid you had your hair up in all day was now gone, your hair was curled due to the all-day friction. The ladies assigned to your care were more than delightful. With the satin robes and braids you could never master, it was like you never wanted to leave. You lay on the king-sized bed you had been giving to Din the last few nights. The couch was beginning to hurt your back, and he was nowhere to be found. 

Grogu, still not asleep, was patting the lavish sheets with his hands. You smiled, watching the curious creature discover the new textures. Your eyes wandered to the marvelous carvings coated in gold paint that covered the pillars in your room. Eyes beginning to droop, you were suddenly awoken by a cold hand on your exposed thigh. 

“Buir!” he squealed. Recognizing the Mando’a right away, your thinned-lip smile turned into a frown. “I know,” you sighed, extending your hand towards the child and brushing the top of his head. “He’ll be back soon.”

Grogu crawled up your legs and onto your torso. Grogu began grabbing some of the strands of hair that lay on your chest, you slowly separated his hands from the grasp. “Good job on speaking, buddy.” you smiled, now sitting against the bedframe. Grogu sat in your lap, reaching for your hair once again. A genuine smile arose on your face as you watched your son rest in your lap. The thought of Din left your mind, but only temporarily. He seemed to haunt your dreams as he haunted your days. You fell asleep with Grogu in your lap. 

Din’s clanky armor trudged up the many stairs to the guest bedroom. It was almost like a full workout, he was ready to get into the shower and then get into bed. 

Din absolutely hated his time out; barely being able to sip his drink and listening to the arguing of men about topics he didn't even care about was not his idea of a good night. He didn't want to admit it though—he yearned to spend the night with you. You consumed his every thought, and with every sip of his strong alcohol, he just kept feeling worse and worse. The image of your face re played in his head all week. With the disappointment and hurt he never wanted to inflict on you, the guilt was building up in his stomach like no other. 

Slowly, his ungloved hand waved against the sensor. The door whirred open. Din hoped he didn’t wake you, it was already almost morning, even though the sunrise was hours away. He could hear the morning bugs begin to chirp on his way home. As his eyes adjusted to the lighting, he set his helmet down on the chair in the corner. He turned around to find you- his heart seemed to skip a beat. 

Laying in the silk robe you were gifted, your legs were parted awkwardly as you slept. You lay on your stomach with your face delved in a pillow. The slow movement of your back going up and down gave Din the confidence that you were okay. One arm lay at your side, the other cradled Grogu against your waist. His breath finally caught up with him once he realized he had been staring for too long. 

The only thing he could seem to think about in his shower was his best friend. The woman who had always been there for him. She was merely a partner until Greef suggested otherwise. The thought of even diving into anything romantic with you never crossed Din’s mind until then. His hand held his seemingly limp body on the wall, holding him upwards as the water washed over him. The thought of you sprawled out on the bed, on his bed was just… 

The thought went straight to his head, making him feel emotions for you he never had before. Your body, the way you lay, how you were protecting his son even in slumber. Everything about you seemed so appealing in a way Din had never felt for another woman. 

“You know, the way she looks at you. That’s love.”

Greef’s voice haunted Din’s mind as he slept. He woke up gasping for air on the couch. You turned to look at him but only for a moment. You made eye contact. It was rare you saw him without his helmet, and even rarer to make complete eye contact. Din wasn’t one for eye contact. Looking down, you continued to fold Grogu’s extra robes that were freshly cleaned and delivered to your room earlier this morning. You were packing to leave. 

Din sat upright, his hand holding his forehead. His head was pounding. Looking up, he noticed a glass of water and a few pills sitting on the table in front of him. Presumably set up for him, by you. His heart sank. Even in pain, you somehow still cared for him. He turned to look at you again. You were still getting Grogu ready to leave. He was jumping on the bed, making gargling noises as you tried to dress him. Din took the pills and finished the water and set the glass down with a clank, so you knew he had seen your gesture. 

“What time are we leaving?” he asked, standing up to finish his packing. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror; his hair was disheveled and he was in need of a shave. He ran a hand over the patchy stubble on his cheeks. To his surprise, his bag was sitting packed on the same chair where he rested his helmet last night. His helmet was sitting on top of the bag. 

You sighed. “Din,” you croaked, saying his name for the first time in days. He looked over at you. The same pain was there, but the look of exhaustion followed it. “I-I’m not going.” 

His brows raised. A slight panic set in. “What do you mean, your not going?” he asked in a more hostile tone than needed. You drew in a sharp breath and looked back at the same gold detailing you were looking at the night before. “Grogu is packed,” you simply said, scooping the child up in your arms. He squealed at your embrace, cuddling up in your arms. It was the last time you were going to be with Grogu, at least for a while. “Greef invited us to breakfast,” you said, swiftly walking past Din to the door. Your attempt to leave was unsuccessful.

Din grabbed your arm and pulled you back. Grogu let out a whine, as he was shuffled in the hassle. No words had to be said, the stares you were giving each other were enough. Din tilted his head slightly. The feeling of you was slipping through his fingers. Memories of you two fighting bounties, saving credits for a future, and then raising Grogu together hurt him more than ever. You were already too far gone. He had done damage that seemed irreversible.

A single tear rolled down your face. 

It was never meant to go this far. 

“Let me go,” you begged. Din didn’t realize his grasp on you was getting tighter as the seconds went by. “I don’t want to,” he whispered, closer to a mumble.

With reluctance, he let go of your arm. 

“What about the villa?” he called after you as you were about to exit the room. You stopped cold in your tracts. “Don’t bring up the villa-” you scolded him, turning around. The once-thought dream of living lavishly with Din, as a retired pair on a fancy planet scorned your broken heart. “You're really just going to leave? After everything?” he asked.

“You were my everything.” you bitterly cried out. Grogu squirmed in your arms. You sat him down on the bed.

Those words punched through Din like a thousand knives. “I didn’t mean-”

“Then what did you mean?” you ask, approaching Din. “I heard your conversation loud and clear, Din. I understand your intentions.”

“Y/N I had no clue,” he tried to defend himself. “Liar!” you screamed. Din was taken aback by your anger and took a few steps back. “I have spent the last many years of my life following you around blindly. We lived together, slept in the same bed, shared meals, shared laughs, and now share a child! I held you during cold nights! I saw your face, we’ve seen each other nude more times than I can count, you cared for me when I got hurt on that one mission to Tatooine. You cared for me while my leg was broken and I was helpless. We were everything without a title, Din! There is no way you never saw or felt anything. I simply don’t believe it. I can’t believe I thought I could see the true heart of a cold, selfish Mandalorian.”

Din was almost at a loss for words. He stood for a moment, finding words to say as he watched you realize every single word you had just spewed out at him. Your hand began to shake as you sat down, covering your mouth and staring at the carpet with wide eyes.

“Do you think I chose this? This is how I was raised, Y/N!” he argues. Your gaze moved from the carpet and back to Din. “I cannot take a spouse unless they are a Mandalorian, you know this,” Din begged, grasping for straws. He wanted you more badly than anything else in the world, but the creed that was so deeply indoctrinated in him was fighting the feelings.

“Blinded by your creed.” you spat out. Din seethed. The creed he was in the process of abandoning anyways. 

“Why do you think I’m leaving it?” he blurted out. He didn’t want to admit it, but he said it out loud. Never had he ever admitted before to himself, let alone another person that he was done with his origins. The religion he was raised in, the culture that had brought him in and saved his life was now being thrown out… but for what? The convincing Bo-Katan did and saving him from this cult-like creed saved his life, truly deep down. Even if the efforts were small, they awoke something in Din. But was he really ready to shun his culture completely? Din never really came to terms with it, I guess, until now. 

“You have hurt me deeply, Din Djarin,” you said with your lip quivering, stating your final words. With that, you took Grogu and went to breakfast. You knew using his full, true name always hit him in a spot where it hurt most.

As you were about to walk down the spiral staircase at the end of the hallway, you heard your name being called clearly from the other side of the hall. You turned around, seeing Din jogging down the hall to you.

“Din! Your helmet,” you cried out. He had left the room without it. As he only trusted you and Grogu to see his natural face, anyone who he didn’t trust could turn him into the leaders of his clan. It touched him that you seemed to care for him on some level to still care about his helmet insecurities.

Then again, the reigns the creed held on him were loosening day by day.

“Wait,” he said, huffing as he approached you. “Please.”

“I want to go eat breakfast,” you said sternly.

Din’s arms loosely fell over your figure, his hands slowly touching your arms as they cradled Grogu.

“Don’t go,” he begged.

You looked up into his glossy eyes. Often you would forget how much taller he was than you. Sighing, you looked away.

“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t.”

Din’s knees seemed to collapse under him. He gave in to the buckling of his kneecaps and grabbed both of your hands, begging on his knees for you.

“To live all these years blindly, to not see what was truly in front of me will haunt me for the rest of my days. I am lost without you. Like a galaxy without stars, I am incomplete. I hope you can forgive me for my foolish words, I did not know what I was saying. You are everything to me. The mother of my child, my partner in crime, my light in the dark, my moon to guide me at night, my motivation, my companion, my love. Please forgive me. I need you to stay. You are all I have, you are all I need. A life without you is not worth living.”

To end his plea, he kissed your hands and wept.

Your right hand moved from his grasp to cup his cheek. It was wet with tears. “Don’t cry,” you whispered, wiping a tear away. “Din please,” you said, tearing up as you watched him sit and beg for you.

As his were moments before, your knees seemed to fail you and you joined him on the ground. Your hands grasped his hair as you engulfed the sobbing man in a hug. The soothing sounds of you shushing him like a baby filled the empty hallway.

“I won’t leave, I promise,” you whispered. This seemed to only make him cry harder. The realization Din had of how lucky he was and how close he was to losing you terrified him.

You would have never thought that you would be holding a sobbing Mandalorian. This was living proof of how much he loved and adored you. “H-how could you ever forgive me?” he asked, looking up into your gaze.

“I already have, my love.”

And with that, the two of you delved into your first kiss. It was wet and filled with passion, but also had a theme of hesitation from the two of you.

In all honesty, it was Din’s first kiss ever.

He moved his lips against yours, following your lead. The passion that moved between the two of you was something you had never felt with anyone else before. His hands wandered to your waist as he feverishly begged for more, but knew the limits of the setting the two of you were in.

Moments before the inevitable breakaway, your kiss was interrupted with a cool paw on your leg and a “Patu”

You rocked back on your legs to see the tiny green baby looking angrily at the two of you. A small laugh came from you and Din as he picked Grogu up and fixed his robes.

“Go get fixed up,” you said sweetly, kissing Din on the cheek. “I’ll meet you downstairs.”

“One question?” he asked, just as you were standing up to leave.

“What time are we leaving?”

“12.” you smiled, ruffling his already messy hair.

-

tag list: @dani5216 @uwiuwi @alohastyles-x @mandoloriancookie @maddieinnit0 @alexxavicry @scoliobean @avengersfan25 @nyotamalfoy @milly-louise @mxtokko

@peeta-is-useless @kirsteng42 @salliebley @bubsonnobx @lexloon @untitledarea @qualitypudding @bitchwitch1981 @kittenlittle24​

[azrielslightintheshadows]

I've got you.

Azriel x f!Reader

Request; Right now I'm kinda going mad because of uni and I came up with this idea of the reader that is like studying something to help the inner circle, but she can't find anything (or whatever came up to your mind love) and Az, her mate, try to reassure her with cuddle/kisses and lot of fluff.

Warnings; Mentions of potential death, reader feels useless

Masterlist.

Hope this is what you had in mind love <3

The words on the tenth book you were currently reading seemed like foreign symbols, your brain had turned into a mush and you groaned as you massaged your temples. Nesta’s powers disappeared when she saved Feyre from death and everyone worried that it might have an impact on her health, thus you were searching every book you could find. Rhys and Feyre wanted to help but they were preoccupied by Nyx and everyone else made sure they were safe and handled the matters of the court.  

“Come on, you can finish the book” you whispered to yourself and flinched when a deep chuckle sounded from behind you. 

“You should take a break angel” your mate’s velvety voice filled your ears and you smiled softly. He moved closer and placed those beautiful scarred hands on your shoulders massaging them. 

“I can’t stop now, I haven’t found anything and we don’t know how much time we have if it actually messes with Nesta’s health” you said and your bottom lip trembled. Nesta managed to become one of your dearest friends and just the thought of something happening to her made you want to rip your hair off. The fact that you couldn’t find something to help her broke your heart in million pieces. 

“Calm down angel, we don’t know if she is in trouble for sure, maybe that’s why you can’t find anything” he said softly and pulled your chair back, he marked the page of the book and picked you up. 

“Everything’s going to be alright” he murmured in your hair and sat on the armchair next to the big window of the study. 

“I’ve read ten books and I can’t find anything. I feel so useless right now” you confessed and hid your face in his neck. 

“You’re not useless baby, you are the only one who’s trying to find something about the situation.” He paused for a second “I think that this makes everyone else useless.” 

You shook your head with a smile “don’t say that, you’re all busy” 

“We are but that doesn’t change that you are researching without any help. Give yourself some credit and take some time to relax before you burn your sneaky brain”  he pinched your side and you gasped. 

“Stop” you whined and hugged him harder making him chuckle and kiss the top of your head. Two cups of tea appeared on the coffee table next to you and Azriel hummed, he picked one and pinched your side again to make you look. 

“I’ll return to my book if you keep this up” you feigned an annoyed expression and he smirked.

“No you will do no such thing, this is Azriel time and I’m not sharing” he scolded. 

You took the cup from him and leaned back on his chest, peeking at the view outside and enjoying his warmth. Azriel was staring outside while his hand rubbed soothing circles on your back. 

After a while you sighed and looked at him 

“I have to continue…” you trailed off with a sad smile. 

“Let me help you” he smiled and carried you to the table. 

You spent the rest of the day checking every book, even Azriel’s shadows started flipping through books.

“They can read?” You asked.

“I don’t even know anymore, they surprise me every day” he shrugged.

You kept huffing and puffing, moving from one book to another trying to make some sense but nothing. Azriel looked frustrated too and even his shadows slithered back to him looking defeated. Your eyelids started dropping and you blinked, you couldn’t stop now. You picked another book and started reading. 

You felt something cold touching your back and you hissed.

“Shh it’s okay I’ve got you” Azriel whispered, you opened your eyes and realized that he had carried you to bed. He stripped his clothes and lied next to you, pulling you on his chest and letting a sigh. 

“Get some sleep angel, tomorrow we will continue the research together” he murmured and kissed your head. 

The next day you managed to find a book with a similar story, thankfully the fae who gave away his powers survived and you both cheered and walked hand in hand to the dining room to inform everyone. 

Just before you entered the dining room you glanced at Azriel with a lovesick smile 

“What would I do without you”

Hope you enjoyed it!

@hauntedwitch04

[guess-my-next-obsession]

Hey! I love your writing. Could I please request a fluff piece when Iris is till a baby and Joel is on dad duty? Idk just something really fluffy where he just enjoys being a dad and also Sarah helping?

Dad Duty

pairing: elementary!joel miller x f!reader

rating: F (no outbreak au, talks of diapers and poop because infants are a mess, elementary!joel being the best dad/husband in the world, talks of being drunk/alcohol consumption)

wc: <1k

a/n: sorry for the delayed wait on this, anon! i hope you enjoyed it nonetheless 🫶🏼

series masterlist | joel masterlist

“Are you sure you’ve got everything?” you asked, standing by the front door in a “going out” outfit for the first time since your daughter had been born six months ago. “I can cancel.”

Joel shook his head sternly as he and Sarah sat on the couch, Iris fast asleep in his arms.

“It’s your best friend’s birthday,” he said. “I won’t hear the end of it from her if she suspects you cancelled all because you don’t think I can handle a six-month old.”

“Of course I think you can handle it,” you said, offering him a sweet smile as you grabbed your purse. “I just feel guilty—“

“Baby,” he sighed, tilting his head at you. “Iris ain’t gonna remember you goin’ out one time when she was six months old.”

“I know, but—“

“No buts,” he said. “Get your fine ass out there, and take a couple shots for me while you’re at it.”

“Besides,” Sarah chimed in, pulling your eyes to hers. “I’m here as backup. Go have fun for once.”

Letting out a deep exhale, you nodded, agreeing to bury your guilt over leaving your daughter behind for the first time. “Fine. But if you need me—“

“Baby,” Joel chuckled. “We got it. Go get hammered.”

Walking over to him, you leaned down and kissed his cheek. “Thank you. I love you.”

“Love you more,” he said, tilting your chin so that he could steal a quick peck on your lips, careful not to smudge your lipstick. “Go on now before they start honkin’ and wake baby girl up.”

“Alright,” you said, walking over to the door. “Sarah, don’t let your dad try to cook anything. I’d hate to come back to ashes.”

“Already on it.”

“Sarah!” Joel called from the upstairs nursery, Iris on the changing table in front of him making the biggest and grossest mess he’d ever encountered in his tenure as a father. “We got any more wipes?”

Sarah was already laughing when she walked in, carrying a new pack of wipes in hand before she witnessed the scene in front of her and started to gag.

“I’m never having a kid,” she said, covering her nose with her t-shirt.

“This ain’t the usual,” Joel said, shaking his head as he tried his best to clean up his very wiggly daughter. “Stay still, baby girl. It’s—Jesus, Iris. How’d it get in your hair?”

“I’m not even sure a bath will fix this,” Sarah said, looking disgusted. “I think we have to take her back and get a brand new baby.”

“Your mom would notice,” he said. “Otherwise, ain’t too bad an idea.”

After a thorough cleaning that left Joel scarred, Iris was set down in her activity chair down in the living room, her favorite nonsensical cartoon on while Sarah helped Joel cook some mac and cheese for dinner, her babbles filing the home.

“And to think she thought the house would catch on fire if I tried to cook,” he said, smiling at the thought of you.

“Well, in fairness it has almost happened before,” she said, earning an offended look from her father. “You don’t remember the fork in the microwave incident?”

“Shit,” he cursed, shaking his head. “You’re right. But in my defense, someone left it in my takeout box.”

“Yeah, you.” Joel chuckled, amused by her wit. “But to pad your stats, we can lie and say you made dinner tonight.”

“No, she’d expect me to start cookin’ then,” he said. “I may have pulled a miracle tonight, but my battin’ average ain’t great. Do you want to take the chance of house burnin’ down?”

“Good point.”

“Exactly. You’re takin’ the credit for this work of art.” Joel pointed at the pot of artificial cheese goodness. “How in the world am I hungry after cleaning up Iris’s shi—“

“Dad,” she winced. “I just got the image out of my mind.”

“If I gotta remember it, you do too, baby girl.”

It was midnight by the time you stumbled in, waving your best friend and her designated driver-slash-husband goodbye as you cracked the front door open before heading inside. To your surprise, Joel was still awake and rocking Iris to sleep in his arms, though judging by the heavy blink of his eyelids, he was barely hanging on.

“Hey baby,” he said with a smile as you stumbled your way over to the couch as quietly and gracefully as you could to sit down beside him, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. “How was it?”

“I’m drunk,” you confessed, your voice raspy from singing along to the club’s music. “And hungry.”

“Well, lucky for you, Sarah made dinner,” he said, standing up with Iris and setting her down in her rocker before holding his hand out for you. “Come on, you drunkard.”

“How were the girls?” you asked, clasping your hand in his as he guided you to the kitchen table to have a seat while he warmed up tonight’s leftovers.

“A piece of cake,” he said, shooting you a smile from over his shoulder. “Iris had one very messy diaper incident, but besides that, she was an angel. Just like her mom.”

“Hey, I won’t be having any messy diaper incidents for another fifty years or so,” you joked, earning another grin. “You gonna love me when I’m wearing a diaper?”

“Baby, I’m older than you,” he reminded. “If you’re wearin’ a diaper, so am I.”

“Oh, I can’t wait,” you mused with a wide, drunken grin. “You can save your payback for then, have Iris see how it feels.”

“I like the way you think, baby,” he chuckled. “But I love her too much to make her go through what I went through earlier. I think I’m gonna need therapy after that.”

You stood up, finding your way over to him to wrap your arms around his waist and hug his back, too in love with him not to touch him.

“Thank you for tonight. I didn’t know how much I needed it,” you said, humming as Joel’s hand lowered from the pot on the stove to run over your forearm wrapped around his middle. “How about next weekend I watch the girls so you can have a night out?”

“Maybe one of these days we’ll both get to go out,” he chuckled. “Until then, I’m good stayin’ at home with my girls.”

[babystrcandy]

matilda (pt. 1) | myg

summary: Loneliness had always been a constant for you, haunting you like a ghost; until your older brother’s best friend, Min Yoongi, came into your life. You both promised each other something back then - you’d always have his support and he’d always have yours. But with time and age, you weren’t sure how much that all still stood to be true.

pairing: yoongi x fem!reader rating/genre: 18+ Minors DNI | brother’s best friend au, f2e2f2l, slice of life, angst, fluff, eventual smut word count: 13.6K it only gets longer from here warnings/notes: this is based off the song matilda because i couldn’t help myself so beware of the hurt in this fic, first two chapters follow reader and yoongi throughout their lives, explicit language, unrequited love, a whole lot of pining, alcohol usage (mentions of throwing up), unsupportive/neglectful parents, mentions of loss of virginity (but nothing described/not between main pairing), yoongi and reader just want the best for each other, angst angst ANGST, this was originally posted on ao3 and i’m just now uploading it to tumblr, so bear with me i’m a mess, filter is called ethereal, but i can’t rmr the creator, so if it’s yours, pls contact me so i can give credit, i think that’s it but if i missed anything pls let me know (i wrote this a while ago and have no long term memory), ok ok hope you enjoy <3

chapter one: it’s no big deal ( next → )

WHEN YOU WERE MERELY ten years of age, you realized boys were not the bugs crawling with cooties you had made them out to be . . . all thanks to Min Yoongi. You remembered the first time you met him, keeping the fond memory safe inside your head throughout the years.

You grew up lonely. Your father was a wealthy businessman, owning his own company, which his son would surely take over when he came of age. This meant he was always away on business trips or locked inside his office while your mother tended to every one of your brother's needs, oftentimes forgetting you had your own. You didn't have many friends; most of the kids your age labeled you as a snob because of who your father was, so there was no point in trying with them.

Your brother, Kim Seokjin, however, always made sure to drag you along wherever he went like you were his very own prodigy, apprentice, assistant, whatever. He had always been your protector from day one . . . even if he kicked you out of the room every time he had his friends over. (They were playing boy games, he'd always say, but you were smart for your age. You knew boy games actually just meant looking at the special magazines your father kept hidden in his room.)

You'd grown up alone. But you were used to it. It didn't bother you. You liked to be alone when you drew in your sketchbook anyway. And you did draw every chance you got. It helped keep the loneliness at bay.

The day you met Min Yoongi had been no different.

That day, you found yourself alone yet again. Your father had locked himself in his office for the night while your mother took Seokjin to one of his basketball practices. In your lonesome, you'd turned to mindlessly draw in front of the television in the living room, while the movie Matilda played in the background. You'd spent that time etching the ideas that had consumed your young mind onto the new sketchbook you had begged your parents to buy. You'd planned to ask for paints next.

You liked being alone. You liked painting in silence. Lately, you had been finding the silence, in general, not so bad. You'd even go as far as to say you enjoyed it.

Seokjin didn't. He could never handle it. Because of this, he'd always kept busy with his many interests that seemed to grow as he aged.

While only at ten, you enjoyed days full of art and color and watching Matilda over and over again, Seokjin was stuck at twelve almost thirteen with an overactive mind and a need to fight twenty-four-seven. Granted, he was only a preteen boy, so it was a given he’d beg his parents to let him join every sport he set his mind to.

And the sport he had chosen this year: basketball. And this time your mother decided to chaperon every practice and every game . . . so that meant you would be left alone even more, given the other invasive fact that your father was far too busy to give you the time of day.

It would just be you and your drawings from now on, you supposed. You'd have to draw faces to keep you company, and that wasn't so bad. You could find friendship in the two-dimensional caricatures you'd craft. And you could like that. You had to like that.

So when your mother opened the front door with boxes of pizza juggling in her hands, warning you that Seokjin and his friends would be in any minute, it was no surprise that you were still drawing. You had nodded, not paying much attention due to the fact that your dear (you noted, sarcastically) older brother always made it a habit to invite his friends over to his house after their basketball practices. It was routine by now. A routine you hated . . . because . . . your brother’s offer to have his teammates over meant you would have to sit there in the middle of their preteen antics and body odor and endure it all. (Just another reason why you had never paid attention to boys: they all smelled. Bad.)

But that day had been different. Because when the boys from your brother’s team finally all piled in, loud and obnoxious as they made their way to the kitchen for a slice of pizza, you spotted a new face. He was shorter than most of the boys, his limbs long and skinny, but he had this expression on his round face that convinced your young, hopeless romantic mind that you had truly just seen sparks fly. Like, full-on sparks. Perhaps there were even hearts in your eyes.

You observed him for the rest of the night, and in your ten-year-old mind, you had reassured yourself that no, this was not stalking . . .

Because, no, it was not creepy for Seokjin’s little sister to stand in the doorway of the kitchen, silent and standing still as you listened to the boys talk amongst each other. And, no, it was not weird that you kept staring at the new face amongst your brother’s friends, giggling when you saw him accidentally drop a piece of pepperoni on the floor.

He had looked at you then, his attention being drawn to the sound of your small laughter. And when he had, you, being ten and well . . . not used to interacting with other people often, tried to hide from his gaze, but the boy didn’t give you a weird look like your peers normally sent your way, instead, his mouth morphed into an awkward tight-lipped smile as he hastily picked up the pepperoni from the floor and flicked it onto his plate. He then turned away and focused his attention on Seokjin, who was loudly demonstrating the shots he had made during practice.

It was clear he could still feel your eyes on him as he kept awkwardly glancing your way, shifting under your gaze. It wasn’t until the boy grabbed another paper plate, put a piece of pizza on it, and approached you that you truly realized that the boy had actually seen you staring at him.

Almost as if you had been starstruck, you stared at him, your eyes as wide as saucers as you glanced between the plate in his hands and his face.

A second later he had asked, “Did you want a slice?” His voice was small with only a hint of awkwardness hidden behind his calm tone as he held out the plate toward you.

You blinked, nodding up at him, and a second afterward, you grabbed the plate from him, your eyes never leaving his face. You noticed then that he had a small freckle on his nose, and you decided that it was your favorite thing about him.

It only took a second longer for you to convince yourself that you were going to marry him. This caused your cheeks to blaze aflame. (You’d surely write this down in your diary . . . )

But your cheeks didn’t stay burning long before your brother finally became burdened by your presence and yelled your name, "Leave Yoongi alone. You’re freaking my friends out with your weird looks.”

You blinked, slightly stunned as you kept your wide eyes on the boy—Yoongi.

“It’s OK,” Yoongi mumbled, offering a small smile. “She was just hungry.”

You grinned widely at his words.

Yoongi.

You noted his name so you wouldn’t forget it. To the diary, it would go.

However, when you heard your brother click his tongue in annoyance, you quickly snapped out of your bashful daze and groaned at your brother, stomping your foot and pointing a finger at him. “You can't kick me out this time. It's dinnertime, dingus, and I'm hungry,” you huffed. “And . . . Mom said I could join!”

Your brother gave you an irritated look. “No, mom told you to leave me alone when I have friends over,” he hissed.

“No—” you bit out— “you did!” You groaned again. "I could starve . . . because of you!"

Seokjin clicked his tongue. “OK, you have your pizza now, so go.”

“But—”

“Go away, shithead,” Seokjin whined, shooing you away.

You glared at him. "You're such a nerd."

"Nerd?" Seokjin scoffed. "How-How am I a nerd?"

"Find a mirror," you muttered as you pointed at the glasses on his face, simultaneously taking a bite of your pizza at the same time.

Seokjin gave you a pointed look. "If you leave now--" he paused to release a sigh as he rolled his eyes and continued, his voice muffled-- "we can watch Matilda later."

You smiled, complacently. “Fine.”

You turned to leave the kitchen, but not before you stuck your tongue out at your older brother. He reciprocated the action but flipped you off in the process. He, however, quickly realized what he had done, his eyes flying wide open just as a sly grin slid onto your face.

And at that, you took off running as you yelled, “Mom, Jin flipped me off!”

But as you ran away, you could have sworn you had heard a laugh fall from Yoongi. Maybe you had imagined it . . . but . . . it'd warmed your heart nevertheless.

The second time you saw Min Yoongi, it was a Tuesday. You had just returned home from school, skipping through the front door of your house with your mother close behind you. While your mother briefly told you she would be in the kitchen making dinner, you hummed in acknowledgment as you made your way to the living room, pulling out your sketchbook from your backpack and getting to work.

You hadn’t known how much time had passed before loud voices carried into the room and you felt the cushion beside you on the couch dip under the weight of someone else. Only when you glanced up did you realize sitting beside you was your brother’s friend, Yoongi.

Now, you had successfully found out a few things about the boy beside you over the past few weeks that he had become friends with your brother. While Seokjin was busy gaming, you would nag and nag and nag him to tell you more about his friend, to which Seokjin always teased you, telling you he was too old for you. You had only huffed and rolled your eyes, deciding to keep your mouth shut and deal with the information you had already gathered.

And to your diary, it all went.

Min Yoongi was his full name. He was around the same age as your brother, so about twelve, almost thirteen—around a little over one or close to two years older than you, but two grades apart due to the cut-off. He was new to the team, just recently moving to Seoul from Daegu because his father got a new job there and apparently it was paying better, so they decided to enroll Yoongi in the same school that Seokjin went to. 

That also meant that he had begged his parents to let him join a local basketball team in hopes of maintaining some familiarity with his old life. And he was surprisingly good, already mastering most of the positions and slowly improving their team bit by bit. And . . . he had the prettiest eyes you had ever seen. (Although, the latter fact being one that you had added entirely on your own.)

And as he sat beside you on that couch, you realized his eyes were even prettier than you had originally noted. When he offered you a small friendly smile, you could have sworn you were going to puke a butterfly.

But the boy turned away a second later and you realized you had been staring up at him with a wide (maybe too wide) toothy grin.

You heard your brother call your name, drawing your attention.

Only then as you turned to look at your brother did you realize Yoongi was only sitting beside you because your brother and his other friend from the team, Jung Hoseok were occupying the only other couch in the living room. And then you realized why they were in there—they wanted the TV and that meant Seokjin would be nagging you to leave them be any minute.

“Nuh-uh, I was here first,” you quickly groaned out before your brother could say a word, stomping your feet on the ground.

Seokjin sighed. “We’re watching a horror movie. You’ll get scared,” he told you, his brows raised. He thought he was so much older now since his birthday would be in a few weeks, but you were older too. You’d be eleven in January. You could so watch a scary movie.

“I like scary movies,” you lied. “I watch them all the time.” Another lie.

"You still watch Matilda," Seokjin countered. "You're practically four."

You shot him a look. "I'm ten, you four-eyed freak."

While Seokjin gave you a pointed look and lifted his glasses up his nose, Hoseok gave a small laugh. You, however, glanced at Yoongi beside you, seeing he was looking at his friends, a small smile on his face.

Fortunately for you, Seokjin let you stay as he started the movie. But you immediately lowered your eyes to your sketchbook, drawing to distract yourself from the noises coming from the television. About thirty minutes in, trying to mask your fear by drawing more and more, you heard Yoongi speak . . . to you.

“That’s cool.”

You stopped and looked up at him, speechless. “What?”

“Your drawing,” Yoongi whispered, pointing at your sketchbook. “I think it’s cool. You’re . . . really good.”

You turned bashful. “Oh. Thank you.”

A scream from the television, however, made you jump, causing your eyes to squeeze shut. You opened them, slightly more embarrassed now as you avoided eye contact with the older boy. Your eyes drooped to your sketchbook a second later, too embarrassed to look him in the eyes. One look from those feline-like eyes would surely make you embarrass yourself even more, and you had done enough of that tonight. But the boy didn’t let you dwell in your embarrassment for much longer before he reached behind him, grabbed a pillow, and offered it out to you.

You glanced between the pillow and Yoongi’s face.

The boy only offered a small smile. “Block the screen with it,” he began. “It helps . . . a little.”

You smiled, bashfully. “Thank you,” you mumbled as you took the pillow and rested it on your knees that were bent to your chest. And he was right. The pillow did block the screen, allowing you to rest a little easier now that you didn’t have to endure the jump scares through your peripheral.

And just when you thought your heart couldn't beat faster, Yoongi whispered to you, “Don’t worry, I promise I won’t tell your brother you’re scared as long as you don’t tell him I am too.”

You blinked.

Yoongi scrunched his nose as he held out his pinky finger, gesturing for you to solidify the promise.

And how could you oppose?

You couldn’t.

You reached for his pinky with a grin on your face, linking your pinkies together and shaking. This was your first promise, but you could tell it wouldn’t be your last.

It did not take long for you to warm up to Min Yoongi. In fact, you looked forward to every time he would come home with your brother after practice or just to randomly hang out on the weekend. You had even started to willingly go with your mother to watch your brother’s games . . . although . . . you never told any of them that you only went to see Yoongi.

So, you had a crush. So what?

You couldn’t help the heat that would creep up on your cheeks when he would come over to your house, sending a small wave your way when you'd lock eyes. Oftentimes when Seokjin’s teammates would hang out at the Kim household, they’d end up filtering to your spacious backyard where there lay a pool accompanied by an area where your parents had recently installed a small basketball court. It seemed Seokjin would be sticking with basketball for a while, and you couldn't complain.

You especially couldn’t complain when you’d pretend to go outside and draw in your sketchbook when you were actually just watching the boys play scrimmages of basketball. Your crush only worsened every time Yoongi would come over to you, dragging you with him to get you to play in one of the games with them. And every time, you found yourself unable to say no to him.

And when the rest of the boys had to head home, the night usually ended with Yoongi and Hoseok deciding to stay the night as per Seokjin’s request. This, of course, always resulted in the three of them plus you staying out in the backyard, teaching you how to shoot and block. However, Yoongi ended up being the one to teach you most of the tricks, telling you that you were his prodigy in the making.

“You’re gonna be better than me one day,” he said one night as you made a basket.

From the other side of the court, Seokjin snorted. “Don’t go lying to her, Yoon.”

“Yah!” you whined, stomping your foot at your brother. "Watch it, four-eyes!"

Your brother only laughed, quickly tsked at you when he'd heard your insult, while Hoseok, who stood beside him, whacked his chest. “She’ll get better the more she practices,” he reassured with a warm smile.

You beamed at him, opening your mouth to speak, but a hand resting on top of your head trapped the words in your throat. You blinked and followed the hand, discovering that it was Yoongi who had decided to rest his palm atop your crown, his other hand holding the basketball. “She’s already better than you are now,” the Min boy teased, raising his brows.

“Really?” you questioned, your voice small and hopeful.

Yoongi looked down at you and nodded. “Way, way, way better,” he hummed as he scrunched his nose, patting your head before he dropped his other hand to the basketball. “Just look at those long arms of his. He’ll slap you in the face before he can steal the ball.”

You let out a burst of laughter, and Seokjin scolded the two of you.

“Stop fraternizing with the enemy!” the Kim boy yelled, his hands out.

Yoongi rolled his eyes. “Your little sister is not the enemy,” he began. “Those long arms of yours are . . . and that awful hand-eye coordination you got going on.”

“Yah!” Seokjin hissed, almost stomping his foot on the asphalt, but stopping himself. “My arms are a normal length.”

“Let’s put it to the test,” Yoongi declared as he passed the ball to Seokjin. “New game?” His eyes drifted to you as if asking you personally.

“New game,” you mumbled, trying to find your voice but you were too wrapped up in his eyes. Yoongi grinned at that and you were sure you were going to faint.

“Me and the kid against you and Hoseok?” Yoongi announced, looking at Seokjin for confirmation. “Or are you too scared to face me and my prodigy?”

Me and my prodigy.

You turned bashful. To the diary, it would go.

And before you could convince yourself that you heard wedding bells in the background, you heard Seokjin agree and then Yoongi was giving you a friendly pat on the back before he immersed himself into the game. You had no choice but to follow suit, after all, you didn’t want to embarrass yourself in front of him by making him lose the game. It wasn’t until you guys had actually won that you were convinced Yoongi was some kind of good luck charm.

. . . You had a crush. A big fat one at that.

This carried on even as the years passed; even as you turned eleven and then twelve; even as Yoongi turned thirteen and then fourteen. You both grew, but the bond only strengthened, morphing into a friendship even you hadn’t seen coming. Even though you knew Yoongi only saw you as if you, too, were his little sister, you didn’t care. You realized having him as a friend meant more to you even at your young, immature age. You also didn’t mind having Hoseok around, finding yourself with a wide grin on your face when all four of you guys were together. And . . . Seokjin eventually got used to the fact that his friends were now also kind of his little sister’s . . . although he didn't take this information well at first.

(But you made sure to rub it in your brother’s face every chance you got.)

When you were twelve years of age you gave Min Yoongi a paper ring.

Over the past two years of Yoongi and Hoseok coming over without the other team members, you had grown to know more about the two. For instance, one day Hoseok showed up after agreeing to meet Seokjin and Yoongi for a game, but he didn’t show up alone. Instead, accompanying him was his little sister, Jung Hari, who stood small and lanky with her head held low as she bashfully peeked up to look at her brother’s friends.

And you wasted no time. You’d grabbed the girl by the arm, asking her if she’d like to watch a movie (preferably your favorite . . . Matilda) while the boys played a game of basketball.

The thing was: you weren’t a shy kid, you just didn't have many friends. You had been shy when you were younger, but now, you weren't as bashfully shy as you had been, even if you still heated up any time Yoongi asked you to teach him how to draw the simplest of things. You were loud and colorful. And since Hoseok was only a year older than you, you oftentimes found yourself running your mouth along with him while your brother and Yoongi rolled their eyes at the two of you.

So when you saw Jung Hari, only one year younger than you, sulking as she was forced to accompany her brother to his hang out, you had jumped at the chance to make the girl feel at home.

Hari ended up coming along with her brother a lot more after that, and it was no surprise that the two of you had grown close.

You introduced the world of art to Hari, and Hari shared with you her secret pastime of origami. You guys had rolled your eyes when the boys would eat their food too fast, resulting in three teenage boys groaning about their stomach aches. And when you would sit outside and watch the boys play their silly little games, Hari would join, her nose held high in disgust when they’d try to pull her in to join the game. (While she would protest and protest, it was normally you who would convince the younger girl to join. It became evident the two of you would do anything for each other.)

And when you turned twelve, the month of February rolling around, you came to the one person who you knew would help you—Hari. Why exactly did you need help? Well . . . you heard from your brother that Han Daeun was going to ask Yoongi to be her valentine, and suddenly you were an atomic bomb.

For three days you contemplated asking Hari to show you how to make a paper ring, and on the third day, you went to her. And a day later, you trudged out to your backyard with a paper ring clutched tightly in your hand. There, you found Yoongi shooting hoops while he waited for Seokjin to return from the bathroom.

“Yoon,” you called out toward the older boy.

At the sound of your small voice, Yoongi glanced over his shoulder, brows raised high in question as he clutched the basketball in his hands. Once he found your face, his nose scrunched as a smile lifted onto his face. He tossed the basketball to the side and made his way toward you.

“Hey,” he said, his voice ever so calm. He sounded the way he always did—cool, calm, and collected. “How’s my prodigy doing?”

You forced yourself not to get too flustered, but it was no use. Yoongi was almost fourteen now. It would be March soon and then there would be two years still between you guys once again. Even now he looked older than he was. Perhaps it was because he always carried himself in such a way that even you couldn’t wrap your mind around. You supposed that was one of the first things you noticed about him—he seemed to view the world differently from everyone else.

“I’m OK!” you exclaimed, your voice coming out an octave too loud. It was just that . . . you were nervous. You knew you had to give him the ring quickly before your brother came back out and made a fool of you. “Um . . . I just have . . . something to give you.”

Yoongi grinned wider, his gums showing. “You have a present for me?” he asked. “It’s not my birthday for another month.”

“It’s not for your birthday,” you rushed out, perhaps a little too quickly. You nervously twisted the paper ring in your hand and gnawed on your bottom lip.

Yoongi blinked in confusion. “Oh.”

You squeezed your eyes shut. “It’s for valentine’s day,” your words were clumped together as you spoke. “Here—” you shoved your hand out, revealing the paper ring with a perfectly crafted heart in the middle of it— ”It’s a ring. I wanted to know if you’d be my valentine?”

The silence was your only answer. Your heart dropped.

Slowly, you peeled open your eyes to find Yoongi staring at you with a sympathetic look in his eyes. You got the feeling that this would not be the last time Min Yoongi would give you that damned look. But at the time, the look nearly made you sob at the sight.

The older boy murmured your full name, trailing off. He didn’t refer to you as his prodigy or as kid. He just simply called you your boring old name, and somehow that broke your heart more, because you knew what it meant. You knew he only saw you as your brother’s kid sister. He’d never see you as anything else, so when he said your name, it was the simplest rejection he could’ve given you.

You dropped your hand and averted your gaze. You had to get out of there. “I’m sorry,” was all you could mumble as you threw the ring to the ground, turned around, and walked back inside. You passed Seokjin on your way to the living room, but when he went to tease you, you only flipped him off and flopped down on the couch. Your sketchbook awaited you, and you sat there sulking as you drew.

An hour later, Seokjin came back inside with Yoongi behind him. You wanted the ground to swallow you whole. You couldn’t help but flush with warmth as you avoided eye contact with Yoongi at all costs.

But then came Seokjin’s voice. “Why are you acting so weird?” he questioned you as he sat down on the other couch. “Did you and Hari fight?”

You shook your head, huffing. “No, you nerd.”

“Did something happen at school?” he pressed. “Was it a boy?”

You stilled.

Seokjin stood to his feet and said your name. “Was it?” he went on, his voice gruff as he fixed his glasses on his face.

You didn’t respond.

And Seokjin took that as an answer. “OK, here’s what we’re going to do,” he began, pointing to Yoongi as if the two of them were trying to come up with their next play for a game. “We’ll round up the team and jump the fucker. There’s a dozen of us, and one of him. We got this.” He turned to you next. “What’s the dickhead’s name? Huh? Spill it or I’ll call Hoseok and he’ll get it out of Hari.”

“It’s fine,” you mumbled, your voice barely audible.

“It will be once I find him,” Seokjin grumbled. “Come on—”

“No!” you yelled, finally glancing up at your brother, but your eyes found Yoongi’s instead. “It’s fine. He didn’t do anything.”

It was silent for a moment as Seokjin searched your face, but ultimately, he gave in, sighing and plopping down on the couch with a loud huff. “Fine,” he grumbled. “But if he does anything, you tell me and I’ll beat his ass.”

You hummed.

Only then did Yoongi finally sit down, but just your luck, he sat right beside you. Great.

Ten minutes later, Seokjin put on a movie, still grumbling from when you refused to tell him what was wrong. You rolled your eyes. He could be so immature even at his age. It wasn’t like you could’ve told him anyway. How were you supposed to tell him that you had made a fool of yourself in front of Yoongi because you were just a lovesick preteen crushing on your older brother’s best friend? Then they’d both be giving you that stupid look.

But . . . twenty minutes into the movie, and Yoongi plucked the pencil out of your hand. You watched in confusion as the boy leaned forward and began to write on your sketchbook. When he was done, he pulled away, gesturing for you to read the words.

I’m sorry I upset you. I never want to do that.

You sighed at his handwriting. There was the pity. You slowly nodded your head and added a shrug before you took the pencil from him and wrote underneath his words.

It’s OK. I forgive you.

You sheepishly turned away from him, but he surprised you again, taking your pencil and writing more underneath your handwriting. When he pulled away, you blinked at his words in disbelief.

Ask me again when you’re 25.

You blinked a couple more times, not believing your eyes. Then, you felt his hand touch yours as he pried your fingers apart, revealing your palm. He put the paper ring you had thrown away into your palm and then pulled away, leaving you in utter confusion as you blinked up at him, your eyes as wide as saucers. The boy only muffled his laugh as he pinched your chubby cheek before he turned back to the movie, completely unbothered.

But you couldn’t pay attention to the movie. You knew he only saw you as Seokjin’s little sister, but still, his words had comforted you, nursing the embarrassment you had previously felt. Ask me again when you’re twenty-five, he had written, and you made a vow to yourself that you would.

Ask me again when you’re twenty-five. You smiled.

To the diary, it would go.

“I can’t believe you ran away,” Yoongi groaned as he plopped down on the seat next to you.

You only smirked. You were fourteen now, and not willing to listen to anyone’s advice. The only thing on your mind: you wanted to be an artist.

That all led you to that day. You see, there had been this art gallery in Busan where there were bound to be scouts and agents looking at all the underground artists that had the privilege to have their work displayed in the gallery. And, well, about three months prior, you had submitted a bunch of your pieces to the gallery, and to your surprise, they’d chosen one of your pieces to display. You, of course, had lied about your age, claiming you were four years older than you actually were, but still.

And the event was today.

Obviously, you couldn’t go telling your parents about this, especially your father, who’d have a fit if he knew his daughter wanted to waste her career on paints rather than medical tools. So that left you with no choice other than to book a ticket (with your allowance, of course) for the train going from Seoul to Busan that Saturday morning.

And who, of course, caught you sneaking out of your house that early Saturday morning? Min Yoongi . . . as always. And just your luck (or rather misfortune), Yoongi wouldn't let you go alone unless you let him come with you. To which you had only rolled your eyes at and hastily agreed as you were pressed for time, and then the two of you were off, riding your bikes to the sound of "It's No Big Deal” as you both approached the Seoul train station.

That led you to now—the two of you sitting on a train about to take off toward Busan, and you couldn’t wipe the wide grin off your face no matter how many times Yoongi complained.

“For the record, I didn’t run away,” you jested as you looked at Yoongi out of the corner of your eye. “I’m just . . . destined for greater things.” You giggled at your own words, sighing a pleasant hum. “Plus . . . no one else is going to make this happen besides me, so I have to seize the day, right? Isn’t that what you’ve always told me? Never give up?”

Because he had. Ever since the paper ring incident; ever since the two of you grew closer; ever since Yoongi started asking questions about the things you would draw; ever since you started attending his piano recitals, he’d always tell you to get what you really wanted out of life for yourself and not for others. He’d always told you to chase what you desired, and you’d always listened.

Yoongi sighed, resting his head against the headrest of his seat. He lolled his head to the side, meeting your eyes. “I can’t say you’re wrong,” he hummed, sending you a warm smile. “You should chase your dreams. You’ll blow them away with your drawings.” He smiled wider. “I told you I thought they were cool years ago, and I meant it.”

“Well, then,” you began, your head held high with your nose in the air as you tried to come up with words to respond with. “I guess this means you support my decision?”

Yoongi tapped your nose. “You’ll always have my support, kid.”

“Good, because I wouldn’t have gotten off this train even if you forced me,” you huffed, sinking into your seat.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he laughed, his gums showing slightly. “You can’t be controlled. That’s what I like about you. You’re reckless—” he glanced over at you for just a second— “in a good way. Don’t go thinking I’m dissing you. Actually . . . I think I envy you.”

Yoongi was sixteen now. He knew a lot more about the world than you. And you were still only fourteen. You didn’t know who you were. You were sure Yoongi had always known who he was and who he’d become. It was one of the things you admired about him. It was the reason you were on that train. So . . . how did he envy you when he had been the one to teach you to fight for what you wanted?

“Me?” you finally snorted. “Why would you envy me?”

“Because you know what you want.”

“Oh.”

“You always have.”

You turned away, looking out the window. “I wouldn’t say that,” you sheepishly mumbled.

“I would,” he countered, gaining your eyes on him. “You’ve never done anything you didn’t want. You just go for it. Anything you want . . . you go for it.” He nudged you with his elbow. “You’ll go far, kid. You’ll see. Just . . . promise me you won’t forget me when you’re famous.”

You slapped a hand to your chest. “I promise.”

And then Yoongi was sticking out his hand, his pinky on display.

You smiled and locked your pinkies together, shaking. A pinky promise—just like the one he’d offered to you that time you were young and scared of a horror movie your brother had put on. It was another promise shared between you both.

“I promise,” you said again, grinning wider now.

It was silent for a moment as you guys dropped your hands just as the train had begun to move. But it wasn’t quiet for long. It never was with the two of you.

“How long do you think before Jin figures out we’re not there?” Yoongi asked after a minute.

You looked down at your watch. “About . . . tomorrow morning o’clock.”

Yoongi scrunched his nose as he laughed—it was loud and hearty, unlike you’d ever heard before. “Oh, really?”

You only nodded, taking in his laugh. You’d surely remember it for years to come.

“Well, we should probably call him when we get off,” he said, his shoulders still slightly shaking from his laughter. “Wouldn’t want him to have a heart attack when your mom finds out that you’re not in your bed.”

“Fine,” you huffed.

Yoongi patted the top of your head. “Hey, now, don’t sulk,” he began. “They were going to find out about your little mission eventually. You just got to rip off the bandaid.”

“Easier said than done,” you mumbled. “Dad wants me to be a doctor. He says I’m too smart to let it go to waste. He’ll be pissed when he finds out . . . “

“So what’s the plan?” Yoongi asked, although you both knew he wasn’t really asking. You both knew what you were going to do. You had already decided.

And as expected, you said, “I’m gonna go to this art gallery.”

“And then?”

“Even if it doesn’t work out, I’ll keep at it,” you reassured yourself, but you still felt . . . weak. “This is my thing . . . my life. I’ll keep at it even if no one supports me. I’ll make it even if I make it alone.”

Yoongi smiled—it was warm, innocent. “You’ll never have to do anything alone,” he murmured, his voice soft as if he were comforting a small child. “I’ll be here every step of the way. Wherever you are in the world, I’ll support you and hope it reaches you.”

You stared at him for a minute, taking in his words. As you stared, searching his comforting smile, you could feel your eyes growing hot. You didn’t want to cry . . . but . . .

“And if it doesn’t?” you questioned. “Reach me, I mean.”

“Then I’ll come to you,” he said, simply.

Against your will, a tear slipped down your cheek as his words fell.

Yoongi reached forward and wiped the tears from your, still, chubby cheeks. “The day I became friends with Jin, you became my sister, too,” he told you, “so don’t ever think you don’t have me, because you do. You won’t ever have to worry about being alone. Even if you have no one, I’ll always be here. Even if we fight and end up hating each other . . . I’ll always be a call away. You’ll always have me.”

You’ll always have me.

To your heart this would go. These words were too sacred to write in your diary. You’d keep them locked away in your heart, unable to be tainted by the cruel world.

“Promise?” you asked, weakly.

“Promise,” he confirmed, neither of you guys holding out your hands to pinky promise on it. You both knew this pact went beyond silly gestures. There was no need for a pinky swear when you both knew your words to be true. It was as simple as that.

The two of you smiled at each other for a minute after your shared words, before Yoongi dug into his back pocket and pulled out his iPod attached to a pair of cheap wired headphones. “I have a song I want you to hear, kid,” he spoke up, handing you an earbud.

You took it without hesitance, plugging yourself in as the boy did the same and pressed play on this mystery song. And as you listened, you realized the song was entirely instrumental and being played on a . . . piano. And then you realized you recognized the speed of the song, and the style of the keys playing. This was Yoongi playing.

“It’s you,” you breathed out, not able to stop yourself.

“Thoughts?”

“I love it.”

You saw a hint of a smile tug at Yoongi’s lips. “I composed it myself,” he confessed. “I’ve been staying late after school these past few weeks working on it.”

“Has anybody heard it yet?”

“Just you.”

You felt yourself grow hot.

“I just knew you’d get it,” he told you. “Everyone else would tell me I was wasting my time, but I knew you wouldn't.”

“What’s the inspiration behind it?” you questioned, still listening to the sound of the keys.

“What it would be like to leave and grow up . . . in the way I wanted and not the way everyone else wants,” he explained, curtly.

You nodded. You understood. “It could be a reality, you know?”

Yoongi scoffed. “To be a world-renowned jazz musician and travel the world?” he asked, his words sorrowful. He shook his head before you could answer. “I hate to disappoint you, kid, but I believe in you a lot more than I could ever believe in myself.” He scoffed again. “You’ve got talent. No, you’ve got the talent everyone thinks they have but don’t, because you’ll make it while everyone else won’t.” He looked at you then, his eyes soft but sad. “We’re different, you and I. I’m not like you. I won’t make it. Besides, my parents would never support me if I even thought about going down that road.”

“You can call yourself Gloss,” you simply said, ignoring his words.

He said your name in a whisper, trailing off.

There it was again. The way he said your name with such sorrow as if he didn’t want to disappoint you by continuing his sentence. But, you would continue for him.

“If you can support me so blindly, then why can’t I support you?” you questioned.

He stayed quiet.

And you continued. “When I don’t believe in myself, I believe in you and I do this because I know you believe in me. That is how I get through things. When I believe in you, I can do anything,” you spoke, your words getting trapped in your throat as it became harder to speak. “So, I say do what makes you happy. And when it gets too hard to believe you can make it; to believe in yourself, then believe in me and it will give you strength.” You swallowed the lump in your throat. “Believe in me because I believe in you.”

Yoongi bit the inside of his cheek, but still, he did not speak.

“OK?” you spoke for him.

He nodded.

“OK,” you reassured yourself as you shuffled toward him, locking your arm with his as you rested your head on his shoulder.

A second later you felt Yoongi lean his head on yours, and your heart glowed golden.

“When did you get so smart?” he asked after a minute, intertwining your hand with his.

You snorted. “I always have been.”

“Cocky.”

“No, just confident.”

“Shut it.”

You laughed.

Another second of silence before Yoongi snorted and asked, “Why Gloss?”

“Because your lips are always glossy, duh,” you retorted. “I swear it’s like you’re constantly drooling, Yoon.”

Yoongi scoffed. “I do not drool.”

“Slobber, then?”

“You’re pushing it, kid.”

You only grinned, ear to ear.

At fifteen, you swore you felt your heart break for the first time.

You had gone to meet Hari in the parking lot outside of school before you went to the school’s studio to work on some of your paintings when you saw them. Standing near a secluded part of the parking lot stood Min Yoongi with a girl, the two of them leaning against his car. And no, they weren’t just talking, unless you considered talking to be Yoongi sticking his tongue down the girl’s throat and his hand inching toward the hem of her skirt.

Which . . . you did not.

And you certainly couldn’t contain your shock as you gaped at them and spat out, “What, the fuck?”

The two teenagers jumped slightly at the intrusion and glanced over to see who had caught them. Yoongi found your eyes first, his growing in size as he realized you had caught him. It wasn’t that he felt guilty, you knew that, but it was the fact that he knew it would be awkward between you both, because . . . well . . . just yesterday he was blowing spitballs your way through a straw and now you had just seen him with his tongue down a girl's throat.

“Fuck,” he managed to mutter out as he detached himself from the girl and caught sight of you standing and looking at him in shock.

But you weren’t staring at him in shock. No, you were standing still because if you moved, you were sure you’d end up letting a few tears fall. It wasn’t that you didn’t know Yoongi wasn’t a virgin anymore. You knew. You’d heard Jin go on and on about how Yoongi hooked up with his jazz band partner or how he went down on some girl in the girl’s bathroom last month. You had heard it all, and every time it’d gnaw at your flesh just a tad. But this . . .

Actually catching Yoongi in the act was something you never wanted to see because you knew you wouldn’t have been able to handle it. You’d always wonder what it would be like to be that girl he was with. But you knew that could never be. You were Seokjin’s little sister. Yoongi couldn’t have you in that way, even if he wanted to or even if you were older, because of the very fact that you were Kim Seokjin’s sister, and that meant that you would always be off-limits.

So when you saw them, all you wanted to do was cry.

But you had grown into your skin a little more now. You were not brittle or weak, and you certainly did not let anyone see you cry. And you would not have Min Yoongi see you cry over him like he had seen when you were twelve and gave him that stupid paper ring that you still foolishly kept in a drawer in your room.

That was exactly why you turned completely around and walked back toward the school when you made eye contact with Yoongi, then drifted to the girl’s face, recognizing her as Han Daeun. You didn’t want to see it. They could continue for all you cared. But, fuck, did it hurt.

And when you didn’t hear anyone come after you, you couldn't stop the tears from falling down your cheeks as you silently cried. Until . . .

Yoongi’s voice filtered through your ears and he was . . . yelling your name.

You only walked quicker, almost breaking into a sprint, but Yoongi was faster. The boy secured his hand around your arm before you could bolt away from him. You quickly wiped your tears away before he could see them as you turned around to meet his eyes.

“What?” you questioned, your voice curt. You knew how you looked—cold and vacant, but you didn’t care. You were hurt.

Yoongi breathed out through his nose and dropped his hand. “I’m sorry,” was all he said.

“You don’t have to be sorry,” you hissed, your voice coming out harsher than you intended. “You can do whatever you want. I don’t care.”

“Don’t be like that,” Yoongi pleaded, his voice as calm as ever. He always sounded like that—collected and calm, which you usually admired, but right now, it made you want to bite his head off.

You took a step toward him, sending him a challenging look. “Like what?”

“Come on, kid,” Yoongi scoffed. “I’m sorry you had to see that.”

“I don’t care.”

He said your name in a whisper, trailing off.

“Look, I get it, you think I’ve got this big crush on you,” you began, crossing your arms over your chest. “I don’t need you to protect my feelings. In fact, I don’t have any anymore, not for you. So I don’t need you coming after me, apologizing like I’m some stupid little kid.”

Yoongi sighed, running his hands through his jet-black hair. “I just know how you get. I don’t want to hurt you.”

You couldn’t help the scoff that left you. “Oh, please, you’re so fucking full of yourself,” you spat. “Just because I had a stupid crush on you when I was a kid, does not mean I still have one. Got it?”

Yoongi only looked at you, his face blank. “Look, kid, I didn’t mean it like that,” he muttered. “I just don’t want you to—” He cut himself off, attempting to rest his hand on your shoulder, but you pulled away.

“Think I have a chance with you?” you finished for him, seething.

Yoongi only dropped his hand, his head dropping with it as he squeezed his eyes shut in regret. It was perhaps the first emotion he had shown you like this. And it managed to piss you off even more.

He still thought you were some dumb kid.

Well . . .

. . . he could go fuck himself.

Another scoff fell from your lips. “Heard you loud and clear,” you bit out. “But next time, Yoongi, maybe don’t chase after me. Wouldn’t want the crazy obsessed little girl to think you might like her.” And with that, you turned around and stormed off to paint your feelings.

He called out to you.

But you only flipped him off.

And Yoongi didn’t follow you.

On your sixteenth birthday, you made sure you got absolutely plastered.

Your parents were away for the weekend, so that meant Seokjin had made it his personal mission to throw his baby sister the best sweet sixteen yet. And that meant booze, booze, and more booze.

He’d invited the guys from his basketball team that had now become nothing more than a few friends coming together every once in a while to play against each other now that they were all ready to go off to college in the new semester. Hari, of course, was one of the first people to come over way before the actual party started, bringing along with her Kim Taehyung and Park Jimin, two boys in her class who she had grown close to that school year. That also meant you had grown close to them too, but that wasn’t much of a surprise given your outgoing personality.

(Let’s just say you had gained some attention as time passed, the rumors about you being a snob, trickling into nothing.)

And if they were invited, then that meant your brother no doubt had also invited Min Yoongi.

One problem: you had been avoiding Yoongi since you caught him and Daeun up against his car earlier that year.

So you decided getting drunk was your best bet.

And you did, in fact, get drunk. Maybe that was an understatement. You were completely and utterly out of your mind, shooting back shots of vodka with Jimin, meanwhile, Taehyung and Hari laughed at the two of you the drunker you became. Hell, at one point, you were sure you told Jimin you loved him . . . that was how drunk you were.

You’d caught Yoongi’s eyes a few times that night, glaring briefly before you looked away. You had a mission that night: get your first kiss, and if you kept making eye contact with him you feared you’d accidentally let it slip that you wanted him to be the one to kiss you even though you knew he never would. So, every time you’d make eye contact with him, you’d look away and take a shot.

It wasn’t until you started to lose count of how many shots you took that you realized that maybe getting drunk was not the best plan. And as the night came to a close, everyone drunk and gleeful, you tried to make your way to the bathroom, but found yourself not being able to walk up the stairs. You just kept falling over.

And after the fifth time you fell over, you felt strong, warm arms wrap around your body. One arm went under your knees, the other wrapping around your back, carrying you bridal style, and you didn’t complain (partially because if you opened your mouth, you’d end up puking on the person).

You lost track of time after that. You remembered getting to the bathroom, puking as much as you could before you felt someone wipe your mouth and proceed to help you brush your teeth. You remembered being picked up again and carried somewhere. Only when you were laid on something soft did you realize you were laying on your bed in your room while the person carefully took off your heels and shoved on a comfortable sweatshirt over the dress you were wearing. But the person didn’t dare to remove your clothes. Instead, they kept you in your dress accompanied by the sweatshirt before they pulled back the covers of your bed and tucked you in.

And you let this all happen because for some odd reason you felt . . . safe.

Only when the person sat down, their weight making the bed dip, did you flutter your eyes open enough to see that Min Yoongi had been the one to take care of you. You almost puked again at the thought out of pure nerves.

“Hey, kid,” he began, slowly as he brushed a hand over your forehead. He grabbed something from your nightstand and brought it to your lips. “Take a drink.” You realized it was a water bottle he had picked up. “It’ll help.”

And you did as you were told, for once.

When you were done, you stuck out your bottom lip, pouting. “I’m mad at you,” you whined as you weakly smacked his face, trying to push him away.

Calm as ever, Yoongi simply grabbed your wrist, halting you. “You’re drunk.”

“You’re—I hate you.”

“Fair.”

“I’m still mad.”

“I know.”

You sniffled. You didn’t want to cry, but the alcohol in your bloodstream was impacting your emotions. “You’re mean,” you huffed, jutting out your bottom lip as it quivered. “I hate that you make me feel this way.”

A sigh left Yoongi. “I know.”

It was silent for perhaps far too long.

Then Yoongi spoke. “Can I tell you something?”

“Hmm.”

“I got a gig,” he confessed. “It’s at this underground jazz place.”

All previous sadness left you then. You couldn’t help it. You sprung forward, looking at Yoongi through droopy eyes, but the grin on your face was wide. “Really?!”

A smile tugged at Yoongi’s lips. “Yes.”

You patted his shoulder. “That’s great, Yoon,” you hummed. “You’ll blow them away.”

Another second of silence. You fell back to your bed, resting your cheek on your hand.

And it was silent, until Yoongi spoke again. “I’d like it if you’d come,” he mumbled, his voice quiet and for the first time, you questioned if this was the first time you were truly hearing Yoongi let go of that calm exterior.

“Why would you want me there?” you questioned, sulking slightly. You knew you hadn’t been the nicest to him recently. In fact, you thought you guys were drifting apart.

“When I couldn't believe in myself, I believed in you and that gave me strength,” the boy spoke, his words soft. “That’s what you told me that day on the train. Your words didn’t go over my head. I’ve cherished them just as I’ve cherished our friendship.”

His words only stung your heart. Friendship. You knew this by now but it still hurt.

“I hope you know how much you mean to me, kid,” he went on. “You’ve given me hope, and I can’t think of anyone else I’d want to stand beside me when I take that first step other than you.” A laugh left his lips then. “To be honest, I don’t think I can do it without you. You’re kind of my good luck charm.”

You hummed, “Good luck charm?”

Yoongi only tapped your nose in response, something he had been doing since childhood. It was a sign of affection. It was perhaps the only affection Yoongi ever really showed as hugging wasn’t his style and telling people how he felt had always been too hard for him to fathom. But you yearned for it nonetheless.

“I’ll come,” you said after a minute. “But . . . can I ask you something first?”

“Hmm.”

You opened one eye, peeking at him. “Promise you won’t laugh?”

Yoongi tilted his head to the side in thought. “Well . . . “

“Yoonie, please,” you whined, lightly slapping his chest.

That only earned you a laugh from the boy beside you. “OK, OK, what is it, kid?”

You stayed silent for only a second before you shot your hand forward, your pinky on display. “Pinky promise?”

Yoongi rolled his eyes, but locked his pinky with yours and shook. “Pinky promise,” he murmured, softly. “Now what’s your question?”

“Can you kiss me?”

Your question was like a bullet going off in the darkness of your room. It silenced everything, and you felt it slowly swallow you whole.

And with your heart pounding in your throat, you took your chances (again). “I don’t want it to be with anyone else,” you went on, your voice pleading as you locked your pinky with his. “It’s my first. It’s supposed to be special.” You squeezed his pinky finger. “You’re special to me.”

But Yoongi pulled away, unlocking your pinkies in the process.

The older boy said your full name in a whisper, trailing off. He didn’t refer to you as his prodigy or as kid. He just simply called you by your name, and you knew what that meant.

“Don’t say it,” you quickly rushed out, putting a hand up. You couldn’t hear him say those words again. Your heart couldn’t take it. “I’ve been rejected enough to know what that means.”

Yoongi rested a hand in your hair. “Please,” he whispered, his voice weak and anxious, not the soft calm it normally was. “I don’t want to hurt you. You’re one of my favorite people, but I just . . . you’re like a little sister to me.”

You buried your face in your hands. “God,” you cried into your hands, your voice being muffled. “This is so embarrassing.”

You felt Yoongi stroke your hair, and you just knew he was giving you that same sympathetic look he always sent your way. “You’ll have your first kiss, kid,” the boy spoke up again, breaking your heart even further. “And it’ll be with someone so much better than me. You’ll see, kid. I promise.”

He didn’t dare lock his pinky with yours this time around. He just let the silence consume you. But you didn’t care about the deafening silence; all you could hear were his words repeating in your head over and over again.

It’ll be with someone so much better than me, he had said, and you felt the urge to scream, because all you could think was, But I wanted it to be with you.

Despite the ache in your heart, you did end up going to Yoongi’s first gig. You had dressed in your nicest clothes, and gone with a smile on your face. And when he played, you felt the keys were playing to the hum of the beat of your heart. You were crazy to think that this song the boy had composed had been made for you, but you still allowed yourself to think it. Hell, you wished for it, even if, deep down, you knew it had never been meant for you.

And when his set came to a close, he glanced out at the audience, a small, strained smile on his face as his eyes searched the crowd. Only when his eyes had landed on you, did he stop searching as he let a wide grin break out on his face, and you could have sworn your heart stopped right then.

There was that wide, gummy grin that sat on his face as he bowed to the audience before he quickly rushed over to you. “You came,” he breathed out as he wrapped his arms around you, bringing you in for a hug. (Something that he never did.)

“When I told you you would always have my support, I meant it, Min Yoongi,” was all you responded with as you embraced him. And you had meant that.

Because you had never admitted it before, but you knew why you would do anything for Min Yoongi. You knew why you would always support him. You knew why your heart beat a little faster when he was near. You knew why you cared so much about his opinion. You knew what you felt for him.

You loved him.

So while Yoongi thought your friendship would continue to flourish, you weren’t sure how much of this you could take. You were sure it’d break you completely one day.

You had to fix this. You couldn’t have a life without him in it, but you also couldn’t live a life waiting for someone who would never look your way.

And then you realized one thing: you were entirely fucked.

You quickly figured out how to get over Min Yoongi. How exactly would you do this? Boys.

Although you weren’t entirely sure it helped all that much, you convinced yourself it did. So just as the school year was coming to an end, you set out on a mission: kiss a boy. And by the end of that week, you had completed it.

You’d invited Kim Namjoon—a boy in your year who just so happened to sit next to you in a few of your classes—over to your house one evening. Your parents would be out, and you were sure Seokjin would be preoccupied with Yoongi and Hoseok. So that meant, you’d be alone. Correction, you’d be alone with Namjoon and that was exactly what you wanted.

It did not take long before you hooked one leg over the boy, straddling his waist as the two of you made out on your bed. And while you didn’t hate kissing the boy, you couldn’t help but imagine you were actually kissing Yoongi instead, because you knew for a damn fact Yoongi would not be beating around the bush, too afraid to stick his tongue in your mouth.

You knew Yoongi would be gentle, but you also knew that wouldn’t last long. He’d surely end up biting your bottom lip, desperately asking for you to comply with his request before he slipped his tongue into your mouth. And you knew he’d taste just as good as he smelled.

But . . . you weren’t kissing Yoongi, instead, your first kiss was with Namjoon, and while it wasn’t bad . . . it wasn’t what you wanted. However, you wanted a distraction. You wanted more, and you were sure Namjoon didn’t mind as he had just told you he didn’t want to go into his final two years of high school with a girlfriend. Which . . . fair, you supposed. Pregaming for college?

You were fine with that.

In fact, you were entirely fine with that as you deepened the kiss, lightly tugging on his bottom lip before you pulled your shirt over your head, leaving your chest only to be covered by a bra.

Namjoon tugged his bottom lip under his teeth as he glanced down at your bare skin. He was leaning toward you a second later about to connect your lips again when the door to your bedroom slammed open.

“I got another gig!” the intruder cried out in glee. “Kid—oh.”

Standing in the middle of your doorway was Min Yoongi dressed in a blank tank and baggy black sweatpants to match. His hair was a little longer now, but what stuck out the most was the look on his face as he caught you sitting on the lap of some random boy he had never met with your shirt entirely off.

Yoongi nodded his head toward Namjoon. “Get out,” he spat, his voice calm, but menacing.

You groaned at him, sliding off of your classmate. “Oh, get a grip, Yoongi,” you hissed as you slipped your shirt back on.

But Yoongi was adamant. In fact, he hadn’t even looked at you once. His narrowing gaze was on Namjoon and Namjoon only as he ordered once more, “Get out.”

Namjoon stayed quiet, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape.

You, however, did not keep your mouth shut. “Seriously?”

A muscle in Yoongi’s jaw twitched. “Jin!”

At that you jumped up, pulling Namjoon to his feet. “You, motherfucker!” you hissed at the older boy as you quickly shoved Namjoon out of your room. You shoved Yoongi’s chest, hard, before you waved to the boy retreating out of your house. “Bye, Joon. Call you later.”

When you both heard the front door slam shut, Yoongi set his sights on you. His jaw was locked, his eyes angry and full of a fire you had never seen before. And then came his words, “Are you fucking serious?”

You didn’t miss the way he spat his words as if they were tiny daggers aiming for your heart. Instead, you put up the front you had grown into over the years and shoved past him. “Eat me,” you muttered with malice as you made your way down the stairs.

But Yoongi didn’t leave it at that. At the bottom of the stairs, he reached you, wrapping his hand around your arm as he tugged you toward him. And with your eyes finally on him again, he asked, perhaps a little harsher now, “What the fuck were you thinking?”

A sly grin slid onto your face. “So you can make out with girls and practically finger them against your car, but I kiss a boy and the world ends?”

His jaw twitched again. “You don’t get it,” he began, his voice low so your brother wouldn’t hear. “Boys your age only want one thing. I’m trying to protect you.”

You narrowed your eyes. “I can protect myself,” you protested as you ripped your arm out of his grasp. “I’m not a little girl, you know? I’m sixteen. I don’t need you to tie my shoes or block the screen when a scary part comes on during a horror movie.”

“You don’t know anything about guys like that,” Yoongi said again, not truly hearing your words.

“And you do?”

“Yes.”

“Why’s that?” you beckoned, putting your hands on your hips and tilting your head as if you were challenging him. “Because you’re one of them?”

He began to say your name.

But this time you cut him off before he could give you that look again. “Don’t,” you uttered, putting your hand up. “I can take care of myself. I don’t need you anymore.”

Your words lingered in the air.

I don’t need you anymore.

Yoongi’s face softened.

He dropped his hand, taking a step back. There was this wall slowly being put up between the two of you, and you both knew it. You had felt it for a long time now, but chose to ignore it. You were sure Yoongi felt it now, too.

“What the fuck are you guys fighting about?” Seokjin’s voice intruded in on your conversation (or lack thereof).

The two of you did not turn to glance at Seokjin, though. You kept staring at each other, Yoongi’s eyes now soft and wide while you held your stance, your eyes narrowed and sharp. It was almost as if you were challenging each other to see who would let go of the other first.

You looked away first.

You stormed away from the Min boy, approaching your brother as you shot your hand out and punched him in the shoulder. “Fuck you,” you spat as your fist collided with your brother’s shoulder.

“Ow, she hit me,” Seokjin gasped, looking between the two of you. “She’s mad at you and she hit me.”

“Respectfully, Jin . . . shut the fuck up,” was all Yoongi said.

“I don’t think I will,” Seokjin scoffed, turning around to set his sights on you as you headed for the front door. “Yah—”

But you cut him off, once again. “Fuck you!” And with that, you slammed the door, walking further away from your brother and the boy who held your heart. You knew you shouldn't have said those things, but . . .

Fuck you, Jin. That was it. That was all you felt. Just—Fuck you. For what exactly? You didn’t really know.

Fuck you for intruding?

Fuck you for being your brother?

Fuck you for being friends with Min Yoongi?

Fuck you . . . for bringing him into your life.

That—

That was it.

It was the brief break before you went into your junior year of high school when you lost your virginity. And it was nothing like how you used to dream it to be.

You’d been invited to a bonfire by Jimin who had dragged Hari and Taehyung along with him, begging for you to join them as well. But you had been hesitant.

See, the thing was: Hari and Taehyung seemed to have something going on, so that meant they’d spend the entire night together while Jimin would probably be off trying to get the number of one of the girls from the cheer squad and maybe try to snatch the digits from one of their football player counterparts. That all left you to be alone. Now, you’d gotten used to being alone over the years, opting to put on this extroverted front so you didn’t feel so lonely in a crowd of people, and normally you liked that. Normally you liked being out there and aloof like your paintings . . . but you hadn’t been feeling it that night.

The reason for your dull attitude? Min Yoongi.

You hadn’t spoken to Yoongi in two weeks. You knew he'd be leaving for college soon, but you were stubborn. You’d ignored him when he’d come over to the house to hang out with your older brother. Even when he called your name to get your attention, you’d turn your head, nose held high as you ran off to your bedroom and locked the door.

It wasn’t that you hated him. You just couldn’t bear to see him.

So your only option? Get drunk and get over it.

And you had gotten drunk, and you had tried to get over it (to get over him), by getting under someone else. So on the night of the bonfire, you lost your virginity in the back of a beat-up car to a boy you never even learned the name of.

Truth be told, you didn’t want to learn his name. That would make it real—the fact you had lost your virginity and it wasn’t with the person you loved.

You’d forced yourself to tell the unnamed boy that it was good and you had a fun time. Then you’d gotten dressed, texted your friends that you’d head home by yourself, and left.

You’d ended up back at your house around three in the morning, completely sober and not really caring if you slammed the door a little. Your parents were away for the week on business or whatever, and you were sure Seokjin wouldn’t be home, so who cared?

But, just your luck, when you had gone to your room, changed into a sweatshirt and shorts, then made your way to your backyard to dip your feet in the pool, you caught sight of the one person you had been trying to avoid.

“Do you ever go home?” you groaned out as you stared at Min Yoongi, who was currently shooting hoops in your backyard.

Yoongi stilled, his back stiff. But he didn’t turn to look at you.

So you went on, “It’s three in the morning, you know? You can sleep.”

“I couldn’t,” was all he said. “Boyfriend drop you off?”

“More like fuck buddy,” you lied.

A scoff came from Yoongi. “You’re too young for that.”

“Like you don’t fuck?”

He murmured your name, trailing off, giving you that same look. He looked at you as if you were still that same stupid little girl who he gave a slice of pizza to while you stood in the doorway, trying to get his attention. But you weren’t. That wasn’t you anymore, and you wanted him to know that.

“You don’t get to tell me how to live my life,” you stated, firmly. “I am not a little girl anymore.”

Yoongi gave you a sympathetic look, and you wanted to deck him. “You’re only sixteen,” he spoke, calm as ever. “You deserve more than . . . boys like that.”

You rolled your eyes. “Of course, you’d say that. Shocker,” you huffed as you plopped down at the edge of the pool, your feet dangling in the water.

It was silent for only a second before you felt something smack into your back. You released a gasp and looked for the source, finding that Yoongi had just bounced the basketball off your back.

“What the fuck?!” you yelled, not caring if your snobby neighbors heard.

“Sorry,” Yoongi hummed, a hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. “It slipped.”

You felt nuclear. “Bullshit!” you shouted as you sprung to your feet and lunged for the older boy. You jumped at him, locking your arms around his neck and hooking your legs around his waist, trying to tackle him to the ground. “You’re a piece of shit, Min Yoongi!”

A laugh only erupted from Yoongi. “You know, this is amusing?” he chuckled, swinging you from side to side. “It’s like carrying around a backpack or a baby koala.”

You were not impressed. “You’re a bitch!” you yelled again, pounding your fist into his chest, but doing no damage whatsoever.

“Me?” he questioned, adding a light teasing scoff to his words. “You’re the one who’s been ignoring me.”

“Because you don’t know when to give it a drink!”

“You’re the one climbing me like a goddamn tree!”

“Yeah! Because you left me no choice!”

The boy suddenly pried you off of him, clasping his hands around your wrists as he bent down to be eye level with you. His jaw was tight and his eyes were narrowed. He’d never looked at you like this before.

You stilled in his grasp.

And then he spoke, “What choice have you ever given me?”

“What?”

“Don’t do that,” he grumbled. “You know what I mean.”

You tore your wrists out of his grasp and he let you. “No, I don’t.”

“For years, I’ve known you had a crush on me, and I tried to be careful about it,” he began, his jaw still tight. “I’ve tried to be your friend. I’ve tried to tell you that I can’t be anything more because you’re you and I don’t ever want to hurt you.” He took a deep breath in. “And I know that’s, in turn, what’s been hurting you—our friendship.”

You stayed silent.

Yoongi only continued, “You are my favorite person I think possibly in this entire world, but . . . I can't give myself to you in the way you want.” He blinked, his eyes glossy. “I don’t want to hurt you, but you’ve given me no choice.”

You’ve given me no choice, and you knew you hadn’t.

“Instead, you avoid me and get mad at me for this, and I don’t know what to do anymore about it,” he confessed, the night making his eyes appear woeful. “So I’ll ask you again, kid, what other choice do I have?”

And for once in your life, you didn’t know what to say.

So the only response you could fathom was, “I’m sorry.” And then the floodgates opened, and the tears spilled, your sobs soon swallowing you whole. “I—I’m so sorry, Yoon. I wish I could stop it. I’m sorry. I’m so—“

That was all it took for Yoongi to let down the tough exterior he always wore. A heavy sigh escaped his lips as he slowly wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into him and hugging you tightly. He didn’t like hugs, but he’d put up with them for you.

You slowly embraced him, weakly clutching onto his shirt as you buried your face into his chest. You hadn’t known exactly what pushed you over the edge. Perhaps it was everything all at once.

And then everything really did hit you all at once.

You realized what happened that night. You realized you’d lost your virginity in a way that made you feel worthless. You realized you’d been hurting Yoongi just as you’d been hurting yourself. And then you realized he had graduated. He’d be leaving for college soon. He wouldn’t be here anymore.

Yoongi would be gone, and you’d still be there, right where he left you.

That, perhaps, was the second time you felt your heart truly break. Because Yoongi meant more to you than that. His friendship had brought beautiful technicolor to your life. He’d been the one to support you when no one else had. He’d been there, and he wouldn’t be anymore in a few months.

How could you let him go?

And then, for the millionth time that night, you embarrassed yourself again. You rasped in a loud breath and sobbed, “I lost my virginity tonight.”

“Oh.”

“Fuck you.”

“No, it’s just—“ he pulled back, slightly, to meet your eyes— “I didn’t expect that.”

“Well, it happened.”

“Was it—“ he made a face— “good?”

You couldn’t help it, you whined out a sob. “No!” you slapped your hands against your face. “It was awful, and he smelled like fucking asparagus!”

“Oh.”

“I know!”

Next came a pat on your shoulder. “It’ll get better,” he reassured. “Like wine . . . better with age.”

Your hands slid down your face. “You are the worst person I know.”

A laugh erupted from Yoongi, revealing his gums as his shoulders shook. “You love me.”

“I loathe you,” you corrected, finger high in the air.

“Yeah, kid—“ he tapped your nose— “I loathe you, too.”

Your face slowly fell. Not because he had said something wrong, but because of the thoughts that consumed your brain. In a few months, you wouldn’t get to hear him joke with you like that. You wouldn’t get to have him anymore.

“You wanna know the worst part about it?” you questioned, eyes flicking up to meet his.

Yoongi nodded, growing solemn.

“I should be more upset about losing my virginity to some loser, but instead, I’m here trying to wrap my head around the fact that you’ll be gone soon,” you confessed, trying not to feel like a stupid child.

Yoongi nodded again, his eyes now on his shoes. “I’ll visit.”

“But . . . I don’t want you to leave,” you mumbled, weakly.

A hint of a warm smile lifted onto Yoongi’s face, but he didn’t glance up to look at you. “I’ll miss you, too, kid,” he whispered, his voice quiet and weak almost as if he were having trouble getting the words out.

And when he did glance up, his eyes were slightly reddened, but you didn’t pull any attention to it.

“Are we . . . OK?” he asked the question the both of you were avoiding.

You sniffled. “We have to be,” you affirmed. “You’re my hope, Yoon. We have to be OK.”

Yoongi pulled you into him again, consuming your body with his as he rested his chin on top of your head and let you bury your face into his chest. You’d let him hold you forever if you could. But for now . . . this was enough.

“I’ll always be a call away,” he mumbled into your hair.

“I know.”

“And I’ll always pick up.”

“I know.”

Silence for a second.

Then, he spoke again, “You give me strength, kid.”

“That’s all I’ve ever hoped for.” 

You felt him nod.

“Just promise me one thing?” you questioned.

“Anything for my prodigy.”

You snorted, but your heart felt heavy. “Just promise me no matter what happens even if we fight and never see each other again that you’ll always remember you have my support,” you spoke, softly and quietly. “Never feel like it’s a burden. It’s free and unconditional. It’s for you to keep forever, even if you end up hating me in the end. I will always support you.”

“I promise.”

“No—” you reached for his pinky— “pinky promise me.”

Yoongi snorted, softly, but nevertheless, locked his pinky with yours and shook.

“Promise.”

Silence once again. This time it wasn’t uncomfortable, until . . .

“Well—” Yoongi huffed into your hair— “B-ball time. Wanna scrimmage? One-on-one?”

You snorted and slapped his chest. “I hate you.”

Yoongi scrunched his nose before he briefly pressed his lips to your forehead. “You love me, kid.”

You faked a gag, which caused Yoongi to burst out laughing.

“I fuckin’ hate you,” he laughed, shaking his head as the wide gummy grin never left his face.

You only smiled. “Ditto.”

As the two of you spent the early hours of the morning fighting to win the one-on-one basketball match you’d started, you made peace with it all. If this were to be the last happy moment with him, you’d cherish it. No matter what. You’d cherish it forever.

And . . . you did.

[brownskinlemon]

Forever and a Day (d.f.)

pairings: dom/reader

word count: 1.211

summary: Your bestfriend/roomate Dominic finds out about a secret you have been keeping

warnings: fluff, angst, swearing, kissing

authors note: loving the love, send requests if you wanna see something specific. Thanks to @gri1my for this request! <3

do not repurpose or repost as your own for any reason on any platform without credit.

You and Dom had spent the day at the beach, the same beach you always came to together since elementary school. You had come here so much you were almost sure there was sand permanently in your closet, between all the summer days and warm nights. Between bonfires, drunken group nights, tears on each other shoulders through every hard thing, you two had practically grown up on this sand together.

You had packed up for the day, trudging to the street to walk home, with Dominic in tow with his eyes nearly closed from how he had worn himself out surfing. You smiled softly to yourself, amused at how this big man with tattoos and a RBF looked so gentle and sleepy.

You had secretly had a soft spot for him ever since middle school. You cursed the way girls got googly eyes around him, and how he never seemed to notice the way your eyes saw him deeply, deeper than he would ever know. You had grown up and rented a house in your hometown of Naples, each with your own room. You were silently grateful that you were not privy to any of the activities he indulged in with other girls, though he rarely ever did, he had the decency to spare you the details and the noise. You had shoved your feelings down, doing what you knew best, avoiding your feelings and doing your best to get over it, filling the gaps with rare hookups and situationships. It was moments like this however, that brought you back to middle school, completely and utterly a fool for him.

Your keys jangled at your door, as you swung it open, and you both dropped all of your belongings on the ground. As you shuffled about the kitchen, unloading the cooler, you heard Dom scuffle behind you to the livingroom to flop onto the couch. You walked to the door frame of the living room, poking your head in to see the tall man splayed on the couch on his stomach, legs hanging over one of the arms. You padded quietly over to him, poking his forehead.

“Hey, can you get up and go shower? I’m about to cook and I know how you are about eating while feeling dirty.”

He slowly cracked one eye semi-open, peering up at you. He sighed and sat up to face you, head tilting up to you as you stood with your hands on your hips.

“I guess so…” He poked your exposed tummy, making your stomach clench, begrudgingly standing up and scuffing to the bathroom in his room.

You had decided on mac n cheese and salmon, silently moving about the kitchen, your thoughts about Dom keeping you busy. Your thoughts were interrupted by a call from your friend Sonya.

“Hey what’s up?” You put the phone on speaker.

“Did you tell him yet?” She blurted out, forcing you to immediately snatch the phone off the counter and take it off speaker, crooking it in between your shoulder and ear. 

“Can you hush?” You whispered sharply, “You’re acting like I don’t live with him”

“Sorry, sorry. So..?” She trailed off.

“No” You muttered, sighing to yourself. “I just…don’t wanna mess things up. We live together and if it goes..wrong, it would make things unbearably weird and our friendship would be nonexistent.”

“Have you ever thought that maybe, just maybe,he likes you too?” She countered.

You stood there, silently toying with your bottom lip, and let out a heavy breath. “No, I don’t want to entertain that delusion.”

“Ok but if you keep waiting he’s gonna be entertaining someone else’s p-” She was suddenly cut off by Dominic yelling for you from his room.

“Y/N! Can you help me?”

“Watch it. I’ll talk to you later.” You whispered into the phone.

“Go get your man” She snickered.

“Bye” You smirked, rolling your eyes at her childish teasing.

You quickly made your way down the hall, bracing yourself for either an injury or a bad idea. You were shocked to find him in his bathroom, sitting on the edge of the tub with a hairbrush in his hand. 

“Um. What’s up?” You said, trailing off, leaning into the doorway.

“I need you to brush my hair” He deadpanned, eyes boring into yours.

“No way you called me in here to brush your hair.” You raised an eyebrow.

“Please?” He whispered sweetly, making your insides turn at how adorable he looked, Damp curls draping beautifully over his face, brown eyes doll-like. You pushed off the door frame, trailing over to him, taking the brush and standing on his side.

You began sectioning and brushing his hair silently, eyes catching his face in the mirror and he sat with his eyes closed, blissed out and nearly falling asleep at your gentleness.

“What were you and Sonya talking about?” He broke the silence.Your eyes locked onto his as they met through the mirror.

“What do you mean?” You feigned ignorance, failing miserably as your voice began shaking and your eyes avoided his, looking at everything but him. 

“About whatever secret you’re hiding from me” He said candidly.

“How much of that did you hear?” You sighed and muttered, accepting defeat.

“Enough. You’re kind’ve a loud whisperer.” He admitted, pausing for a moment. “Did you mean it?”

“Do you want me to mean it?” You had stopped brushing his hair by now, eyes caught on the tattoo on the side of his neck.

He turned while sitting, head turning to look up at you, eyes dancing between yours.Your breath caught in your chest at the eye contact. He slowly brought himself up to stand over you, eyes not leaving yours. He stepped forward so that your chests were nearly touching and his lips ghosted over yours, hands moving to cup your face.

“Can I?” He said, barely over a whisper.

“Please” You whined.

It took no time for him to respond, gently connecting your lips. He walked you backwards until your hips gently met the sink, lips languidly moving in tune with yours. He gently lifted you onto the counter, your hands lacing into his unruly curls, and his hands grasping at your thighs and the small of your back. 

You whined into the kiss, arching up into his chest as he gently tugged your bottom lip with his teeth. You gently opened your mouth for him, inviting his tongue to dance with yours. After a few moments, you both pulled away as his forehead stayed on yours, chests heaving and lips bright and dark from the kiss.

“How long were you gonna wait hm?” His eyes searched yours.

“Forever and a day probably” You admitted shyly.

“Why?” He chuckled.

“Because I just…I was scared that if I said something that you wouldn’t feel the same, and that it was gonna just fuck everything up.” You answered, eyes flickering between his blown ones. “Why didn’t you tell me anything?” You countered back.

“Same thing for me. I tried to push it down, but fuck it fought so hard to come back up. I was losing it” He sighed contently.

“I’m glad” You smiled at him,

He leaned back, helping you hop off the counter. He turned you in his arms, both of you facing the mirror as he began wrapping his arms around your waist and dropping his head to your shoulder. 

“This strangely makes sense…us…how we look together.” You whispered

“Mhm.” He smiled, dimples popping out and eyes squinting, as he kissed your cheek. “My hair looks nice too. You did good”

“I’ve been known to be a woman of many talents” You both chuckled, “Speaking of, you have salmon and mac n cheese waiting on you”

His eyes shot open. “I’m fucking starving that sounds heavenly” 

You left his arms, walking out of the bathroom backwards, “Well if you don;t hurry I’ll gladly take your plate…” You teased.

You both ran through the halls like children, giggling and squealing as he caught up to you.

“We should do this again.” He smiled as you were pinned on the kitchen counter.

‘Same time tomorrow.” You beamed at him. 

You both had dinner, settling into what would be your new normal. You hated to admit it, but for once, Sonya was right. 

[mrssabinecallas]

just a pinch.. |H.C|

Pairing: Miguel O’hara / f!ADHD!reader

in which the fearless leader of the spider society has a soft spot for his right hand (wo)man and her silly little habits :,) <3

CW! lowercase intended, headcanon formatting, fluffy fluffy fluff, very VERY broken spanglish (i don’t speak spanish as good as i used to so some phrases will be from google translate </3), some swearing, ADHD reader

NOT PROOFREAD >:D CHAOS

credit to my friend kelley for making that for me :D ^^ let’s pray she doesn’t see this and doesn’t find my tumblr account she would be ashamed of me

miguel has always been nicer to you than everyone else, he doesn’t really know why but he just gravitates towards your energy

your bubbly personality is a very stark contrast to his brooding aura

opposites attract i guess 🤷🏼‍♀️

but when you started to just hang around in his presence more, he picked up on some of the strange things you did…

for one, you literally could not sit still

he thought about webbing you to a chair just to ease his own anxiety by the constant movement

he also noticed you can’t be comfortable in any normal position

you always have to be doing something strange

usually that entails sitting upside down in chairs or with your feet propped up on the wall

constantly fiddling or picking at something

whether it be the necklace around your neck or a loose thread on your suit, something was always being messed with

miguel found all of these.. quirks, for lack of a better word, endearing

it was strange to him

he had been in love before, but he felt he wasn’t capable of love anymore

so when he started falling for you of all people, he was in denial

he just chose to ignore it, but you were like a leach that wouldn’t leave him alone

clingy af fr

one morning he came to get you from your apartment because you weren’t answering calls on your watch

one knock, no answer

second knock, still no answer

he grew increasingly worried about you and just walked right into your quarters

the door was unlocked

*que fight or flight miggy whos prepared to tear apart the house to find you*

only to find you in your bathroom with your headphones on

BLARING music

and taking some sort of medicine

you didn’t even hear miguel come in, so imagine your horror to him just hugging you from behind

“miguel? the fuck?? you scared the shit outta me…”

“¿que estas haciendo mi amor? estaba muy preocupado por ti..” (what are you doing, my love? i was worried sick about you…)

“i’m taking my adderall?”

“what does that do??”

“my adhd meds? keep me from going bonkers,” you couldn’t help but giggle at his face

“you have adhd???” he was completely clueless

“just a pinch” lol

this explained basically all of your strange habits that he came to love

since then, he always made sure to remind you to take your adderall

he could always tell which days you forgot, you become a lot more hyperactive than usual

sorry guys i had no idea how to end this but i haven’t seen any fics with an ADHD reader so i thought i’d contribute 🫶

ADHD PEEPS REPRESENT

love you all, if you enjoyed please show some love, and STAY FUCKING HYDRATED OR ELSE

RAAHHH

[cxrsed-angel]

as best friends do| eddie munson x fem!reader

word count: 1k

warnings: drugs (weed), mentions of smut (but no actual smut yet my blog is 18+ but i’m just reiterating this 18+ only MDNI, (both eddie and reader are in theirs twenties)

A/N: i know i promised joel taking care of drunk!reader but this came out when i trying to get through writers block so i hope you enjoy this not proofread fic that i wrote in one sitting. (also ive never been high so sorry if some things aren’t accurate

gif credits:@/ lukepattrsns

"wanna make an adult movie” you blink slowly trying to understand what eddie has just asked you

you imagined a gory, violent horror movie with fake blood and everything. Which would be fun to do, he was extremely creative so youre sure he would have a good script.

“like m-rated horror film or like a porno” it’s quiet as you wait for eddie to answer the air thick, the ocean documentary is the only thing keeping it from being dead silent. eddie takes another hit of the joint before passing it to, he exhales slowly before answering.

“a porno” you turn and face him not knowing if he was joking but the look on his face was serious.

suddenly the room felt thick and hot and the shorts you have on feel too short, your face feels hotter and swear you’re hearts beating so loud he could heart it.

“okay i think that’s enough weed.” you stand up from the couch needed to get water and create some distance between you and eddie after what he just said.

“oh come on you haven’t thought about it before” he leans back against the coach nonchalantly like he wasn’t asking you to flim a sex tape.

you shake your head laughing, you couldn’t believe you were having this conversation you’ve known eddie for almost 4 years yet he still manage to surprise you.

“no eddie i haven’t thought about filming porn with my best friend.” you couldn’t believe him.

you watch him get up from the couch and make his way to the kitchen and leans over the counter.

“what about when you were sucking my cock in the back of the van a few weeks ago.” you open your mouth to argue but he doesn’t give you a chance.

“oh before that when i was fucking you in the bathroom after my gig hmm?”

“well um still that’s different—” you stutter as he cuts you off again as he approaches where you’re standing.

“what about when you got that new skirt the other day and let me fuck you in was it because you looked to pretty in it i couldn’t resist was that different too?"

he steps closer to you trapping you between the counter your leaning against and his body, he moves a piece of hair that had fallen in front of your face, you don’t know why you were so nervous what the fuck was that weed you smoked, he stares into your eyes for a few minutes waiting for you say something but you stayed silent your brain unable to argue only think the times he mentioned and all the times that he didn’t mention.

but suddenly he backs away, “but i don’t wanna make you uncomfortable so just forgot i mention okay sweetheart” he smirks and takes your water and sits back on the couch and puts on a movie.

he knew you, he knew the affect he had on you and that you wouldn’t forget it, it had started out as a one time thing, you were both virgins and wanted to get it over with, you both promised to not make it weird after just friends helping each other out, but that one time had turned into basically an unspoken best friends with benefits situation.

you roll your eyes at how he know how to mess you with you, you sit back on the couch next to him and watch the movie. but you were still thinking about what he said.

“your not just asking cause you’re high right.” eddie takes his eyes off the movie and looks at you.

“no no been thinking about for while actually the weed just made me less nervous to finally ask.” he pauses reading your face “but like i said don’t worry about okay.” he places a hand on your knees rubbing it reassuringly and he turns back to the movie.

“i didn’t say no” but that has his attention back on you.

“oh so you’re saying yes.” you see the smile starting to form.

“not necessarily, do you have a shitty plot line?” you ask not really wanting to play a sexy nurse or something.

he frowns shaking his head “no no just me and you like usual just happens to be a camera” you open your mouth but he’s seems to know what you were gonna say.

“steve has a camera he said i could borrow even comes with a stand” you raise your eyebrows at how much thought he has put into this.

“and harringtons okay with us using his camera for porn.” eddie scoots and places an arm around the back of the couch and pulling you into close.

“well don’t get cum on the camera and he wouldn’t even know right, and you’re not a squirter—well that one time—“ you shove him away lightly before he continue.

“oh my god you said you wouldn’t talk about that time” he laughs and pulls you back into him.

“i’m sorry babe but it’s was so hot and you’re face after was so cute you were so embarrassed and shy“ he continues to teasing but makes up for by kissing your cheek, like best friends do right?

you roll your eyes and scrunch up your face pretending to be disgusted, which only makes him kiss you more placing kisses all around your face.

“Eddieee stoppp!”’ you beg in between giggles.

he stops for a second looking between your eyes and your lips before aggressively placing his lips on yours you’re surprised but you quickly melt against the familiar feeling closing your eyes and embracing the kiss, his hand move you off your sit on the couch into his lap, resting on your ass and squeezing it every now and then, you run your hands through his hair in the back lightly tugging it, you continue like this until you both can’t breathe.

he looks at you with his brown eyes blown with lust “so that’s a yes” you nod more quickly than you intended.

“yea it’s a yes— so are we like um gonna do it now” you ask as you start feeling yourself getting wetter and more turned on.

he lets out a small laugh “i don’t have the camera now sweetheart but i’m glad you’re excited i’ll ask steve about later this week ok?” his hands slowly rub up and down your back as you nod.

“okay” he catches the slight disappointment you were trying to hide.

“hey that’s doesn’t mean we can’t practice right.” he suggests before kissing your neck occasionally sucking on it knowing it would leave a mark.

you nod as you get up from his lap, grabbing his hand and leading him to his room, to “practice” for filming a sex tap, you know as best friends do.

[buckleyx]

hi, babes! i was wondering if you could possibly write a Buck imagine where the reader has awful parents, and is just comforting ? sorry if not! i’m also sorry if you’ve already gotten this request, my asks don’t send a lot - 🪐

FIX THE FAMILY E.B

the gif i used is not mine! all credit goes to the owner!

Author’s note: Hiya love! Sorry it took a while but here u go :)) I hope it's a bit what you had in mind. I love soft buck :(

Evan Buckley x gender!neutral reader

Summary: Your sister started a project to 'fix the family' and you're not sure how to feel about it.

Warnings: mentions of bad parenting + bad upbringing and toxic family relationships but comforting buck <33

masterlist

"Not again." You sighed, cursing under your breath as you saw your screen lid up. A blue text message covered the happy lock screen picture of you and Buck. You didn't even have to guess to know who it was from. Your sister had been bugging you all night about a family dinner. You had already politely declined 3 times but she kept pushing. You didn't blame her, your upbringing was a complete different story then hers.

She still had contact with your parents, even visits them every few weeks and she made an unofficial promise to 'try and fix the family.' As much how you despised the idea you couldn't fully blame her for trying. She was the youngest and the most successful and very clear the favorite.

You love LA, your life is here now and you don't feel the need to fix anything. You are happy where you are. You build something here, something personal and safe and your not ready to see it all fall apart again.

"Everything alright?" Buck asked, his head peaking through the door. You sighed, gently throwing your phone on the countertop. Buck's brows knitted together as he slowly made his way over to you. "Do you wanna talk about it?"

Without saying a word, you tiredly leaned your head against his chest. He wrapped his arms around your waist, giving a soft kiss against your temple. "I don't know." You sighed. "It's my parents."

Buck knew you didn't have a fantastic relationship with them but the topic didn't come out often. Just like his parents. You had talked about your shared struggles but you both didn't like unnecessary mentioning it since it was such a heavy subject to touch for the both of you. You both just didn't wanna push anything. But when it did, when the topic came up in conversation, you both were as supportive as ever. Buck especially, you couldn't ask for anyone better in your life then him.

"I'm sorry to hear that." He comforted, brushing his fingers against your cheek. "It's fine." You brushed off. "My sister just thinks she can magically fix the family. I'm surprised they even let her try."

"Maybe they don't know."

"Yeah probably. I haven't seen them in so long. Why now? Why suddenly does she wants to change things now?"

"Have you asked her?"

"No not yet." You admitted, playing with his hair. "Last time I talked to them was Christmas eve."

Buck thought back at the memory and gave you a kind sympathetic smile as he recalled how the evening ended. It was a messy day full of nasty remarks and bitchy comments. First they didn't approve of your job, then of your boyfriend and then they felt the need to break everything else in your life apart. The list could go on forever. It was just horrible. Your brows knitted together as you tried your best to block out the memory. A sigh left buck's lips, he hated seeing you like this. He hated that he couldn't do more to help you. "They treated you afwul, y/n. It's okay not to forgive them."

"I know."

"I didn't forgive my parents." He admitted. "And I honestly don't think I ever will."

"If you want to contact them again, wait until your ready and when you truly want it for yourself. Not because someone forced you to. The same happend to me, I wasn't ready and it turned out into a big big mess." You fell quiet for a second, Buck was right but you had to take a moment to let the thoughts in your mind process everything. You went over every scenario about how that reunion could go before confirming that it wasn't time yet. You weren't ready. And that's okay. Maybe you'll never be ready and that's okay too.

You brushed away some of Buck's hair that had fallen in his face, your hand rested on his cheek before you leaned in and gave him a soft kiss. "Thank you." You said softly before giving him another kiss. The buckley gave you kind smile. "Come on. I'll make you some dinner. It It will help you clear your head."

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[whyse7vn]

KAWAII -

[ ot7 x reader ]

SLUT CENTRAL 🤮

———————————

8 participants - 8 online

jin: so i just raised a slut like???

namjoon: ??

y/n: RIGHT ITS INSANE

jk: ur a father?

tae: where the sluts at lol

yoongi: honestly i could throw up

jimin: if i raised jungkook i would not be taking credit for that shit just saying

hobi: you raised me up

jk: i’m the slut? ☹️

jin: YES YOU ARE WHY

ARE YOU HALF NAKED ON WEVERSE

WHAT IS UR ISSUE???

jk: jimin did it first

jimin: UMM EXUSE ME????

IT WAS FOR YOUR BIRTHDAY MIGHT I ADD

DONT DRAG ME INTO UR MESS

hobi: wasn’t namjoon half naked the other day too?

namjoon: this isn’t about me

y/n: whores the lot of you!

tae: namjoon the biggest whore

namjoon: again this isn’t about me

tae: ok mr automatic dick

hobi: who was the automatic bitch?

y/n: what does that even mean

namjoon: yoongi was the one talking about his tongue technology

yoongi: ??????

leave me alone wtf

tae: ur all nasty

hobi: be honest are you a virgin

tae: ME????

ARE YOU SILLY LOOK AT ME

hobi: looking

i see a virgin

tae: if anyone is a virgin it’s jin

jin: okay wtf not true at all

jimin: he’s lived for like 79 years there’s no way he’s a virgin lmao

y/n: i mean think about that one photo

with the comdoms in the back

jin BEEN fucking!!

hobi: #kingsize

jin: i mean what can i say

jimin: you picked up the wrong size?

jin: kill yourself?

namjoon: could we not talk about the size of jin’s dick please and thank you

tae: right pls stop guy me and namjoon are getting turned on

jk: it’s ok me 3

jin: what

y/n: what

namjoon: what????

yoongi: strangling jungkook gotta feel better than opiates i just know it in my heart

jimin: retweet

tae: bro said retweet 😭😭😭😭

his ass is NOT on twitter 🤣🤣

y/n: you are so unfunny it makes me want to punch things

tae: i’m so into that

y/n: burn

tae: ummmm?

y/n: alive

tae: don’t hate me cuz you want to passionately kiss me on the mouth

y/n: would rather get shot 450 times

tae: fuck you never speak to me again

y/n: finally

tae: guys i miss her 😕💔

WRONG CHAT

WRONG CHAT FUCK YOU BYE

hobi: wow

jk: guys let’s start using tone indicators!

yoongi: ur ugly /srs

jk: ok nvm!

jimin: and she said she said she’s from hawaii /srs

namjoon: …

hobi: do you know how to say cute in japanese? /srs

jk: i do i do i do

namjoon: please stop

tae: did someone say japan lol???

jin: when you said bye i had hope you would be gone for more that 2 seconds

y/n: he said japanese

jimin: idiot

tae: they call me senpai down under

yoongi: ?

jk: in australia??

tae: tf is an australia??

yoongi: what the actual fuck is wrong with you?

tae: did you mean astronaut?

jk: maybe…

y/n: you didn’t

jk: i didn’t

hobi: naur

jin: pls don’t do this again

hobi: naur i have to mate

tae: somone call me senpai rn see what happens

y/n: no

jin: is he’s gonna do something weird?

i feel like he’s gonna do something weird

pls don’t do something weird

jk: let’s find out!!!

namjoon: let’s not!

jk: senpai~

tae: nnnuugghhhhhhhhh 😫

jin: told u

tae: what’s up baby 😉

yoongi removed tae from “SLUT CENTRAL 🤮”

jimin: i HATE jungkook

jk: /srs ?

jimin: /srs

jk: FUCK

hobi: personally if i was to ever get hit by a car i would just get up and walk away

like thats so embarrassing

am i a pussy?

absolutely NOT

jk: hobi btw i do know how to say cute in japanese

namjoon: what if your legs were badly hurt?

hobi: namjoon idk about YOU but hoseok is definitely gonna walk it off

namjoon: why are you talking in 3rd person?

jk: do you want to know how to say cute in japanese??

i can tell you

yoongi: no

jk: k y ee

y/n: oh my god

yoongi removed jk from “SLUT CENTRAL 🤮”

jimin: did he just say that

like fr

k y ee?

as in kawaii

im not hallucinating right

jin: unfortunately not

hobi: i need a car

it’s time to hit a couple people

yoongi: talking to them kills me inside

jin: i’m here for u yoongi

yoongi: and you

jin: hobi make sure you hit him too

jin added tae to “SLUT CENTRAL 🤮”

jin added jk to “SLUT CENTRAL 🤮”

jin: karma

tae: sometimes i call the number on missing dog posters and just bark

jk: hi guys i’m back thx for adding me back jin hi guys i’m back did you miss me cuz i’m back now so it’s ok

namjoon: you bark?

tae: so they think it’s their dog trying to contact them

but it’s not

cuz it’s me

jimin: why would they think it’s their dog?

how tf a dog gonna use a phone

tae: dogs don’t normally use phones?

guess yeontan just built different 🤷🏻‍♂️

i mean what do you expect from a son of mine

hobi: he’s built different cuz you don’t feed him

y/n: LAMSOSOKSKD THAT IS NOT FUNNY AT ALL YOU CANT SAY THAT OH MY GODJDJDJDJJFJFN

jimin: HELP THATS CRAZY

yoongi: wow

namjoon: guys please

jin: INSANE HOSEOK INSANE

tae: ok that was not funny at all

i look after him

really well actually

..

i swear

i feed him

i do

jk: i believe you tae

tae: you do? 🥺

jk: yeah

tae: thanks jungkook i love you

jk: ok

tae: ok?

jk: ok?

tae: okay

jk: okay

tae: fucking whore whose the other woman then??

jk: guys help i’m really scared rn

jimin: omg speaking of that fucking mutt

tae: MUTT???

jimin: bro has NO stage presence at ALL

expressions lame as hell and all he did was run around trying to get camera time he looked a fool

hobi: dozen core

y/n: was his first performance pls don’t make fun of him he’s trying his best :(((

jimin: his best wasn’t good enough

tae: HE WORKED VERY HARD FOR THAT STAGE

jimin: it did not show

jk: bam could of done it better

yoongi: would of shit on stage

jimin: still would of been better than whatever yeontan was doing

tae: can you leave him alone omg

he was nervous

jimin: i’ll cook him

hobi: do you know how to say cute in japanese?

jk: yes

i do

namjoon: stop

jk: i can give you a hint if you don’t know namjoon

namjoon: jungkook please don’t talk to me

jimin: he’s losing it guys

y/n: lowkey hot

i love a man on the edge

tae: just say ur a slut

y/n: ??

yoongi: tae shut the fuck up

jimin: that so screams i have never felt the touch of a woman before

tae: how tf u think i made yeontan?

jk: you fucked a dog??????

tae: wait no wtf

jk: oh MH GOD GUYS TAE FUCKED A DOG

that’s illegal

i hope

OHMY GOD CALL TBE POLICE

hobi: that’s gross i’m gonna throw up

tae: THATS NOT TRUE HES LYING I DIDNT STOP PLS

jin: where is namjoon when you need him change the the subject i’m begging you

namjoon: i think i'm having a psychotic break rn

y/n: holds you and whispers it's gonna be okay

jimin: kill your neighbor kill your neighbor kill your neighbor

tae: GUYSBPLS BELIEVE ME

IM CRYING

SOBBING PLS

IM GONNA THROW UP EVERYWHERE

IVE HAD SEX

WITH A WOMAN BEFORE NEVER A DOG

PLS IM TELLINV THE TRUTH PLS

GIYS

PLS HWLLO

GIUSYSSSJSJJDD

PLEASE

y/n: can’t wait for the day it’s gc gets leaked

we will all be locked up

jimin: severing 10 years not even that bad if you think about it

yoongi: tae severing at least 25

tae: NOT TRUE

namjoon serving life

little drug abuser

y/n: be fr the worst drug joon has done is take 4 paracetamols at one time

jk: 4?????

WOW JOON U CRAZY

namjoon: no

hobi: caught namjoon sipping lean on august 13th 2023 10:45 pm

namjoon: no you didn’t

hobi: u right i didn’t

sorry guys i like to lie

jin: that’s a problem actually

hobi: i’m working on it

tae: work harder

jimin: tell ur dog that

tae: CAN YOU LEAVE HIM ALONE

yoongi: can you come over

tae: yeah

yoongi: wrong chat mb

and why tf would i be taking to you

tae: i’m gonna shoot myself

jin: who you inviting over yoongi omg 🙈

should i bring you a nda??

jk: nine dead animals?

y/n: no jungkook

jk: oh

namjoon: breathe in breathe out

jk: personally i’m worried if i give good head or not because no one has ever willingly asked me to give them head so is my head that bad you don’t even want me to try

jin: invest in a diary pls

jk: cant i’m lacktoes intolerant :(

jimin: lactose?

y/n: and the way thats not even true

hobi: the head or the lactose part?

tae: trust me bro ur head crazy good

jk: fr?

tae: fr

it’s so good girls afraid to ask

jk: girls?

tae: boys?

jk: boys???

tae: people????

jk: what people??

tae: you have like people ur fucking right?

jk: no?

tae: what?

jk: no people

jimin: are you expecting a rando to just to ask you to given them head?

jk: no?

jin: i’m so confused

jk: y/n

y/n: yes?

yoongi: no

y/n: ?

namjoon: moving on

hobi: you think tae’s dog can learn black swan?

tae: he has a name yk?

hobi: say my name say my name

jk: jung hoseok

hobi: thx

jk: yes

k y ee

namjoon left “yeontan ugly”

tae: THE GC NAME??????

WHO DID THAT

y/n: poor joonie see what you guys do to him?

jimin: bet he’s gone to see his automatic bitch

hobi: robot sex

yoongi: what??

hobi: cyber sex doja cat

jin: illuminati

jk: when did he become poor thats so sad i’m here for him if he ever needs ¥

yoongi: why would he need yen?

jk: who is yen?

tae: NO IM SO FR WHO CHANGED THE GC NAME TO THAT

ITS NOT TRUE BTW

MY BABY TAKES AFTER ME

jimin: oh no i’m praying for him ❤️

tae: IT WAS U WASNT IT

ALWAYS KNEW U WERE A JELOUS LOSER

jk: guys ur not being very k y ee rn

yoongi: i’m going to skin you alive

[luxaofhesperides]

Listen. I love the dcxdp crossover. It’s a lot of fun! There’s so much that can be done for this crossover, with all the characters and settings and the many plots that can spring up from them. But as much as I love writing for it and sharing my fics with the community, there’s been a significant uptick in things that are rubbing me the wrong way. Some of these things have to do with canon vs fanon, but others are more about the shifting culture of the community.

(keep in mind that I only see things on Tumblr and am not in any discords, so my experience will be different from others bc I have a more limited experience with the wider community)

(putting it all under a read more bc its long)

Let’s start off with a look at what we’re doing as a group:

Building off of completed fics on tumblr: I always thought the etiquette is to not build off of a completed work without permission. Someone had an idea and executed it, then shared it with us. It should end there. If you want to add to it, contact the author first and see if it’s something they’re fine with; some will say no, some will say yes, some will say yes but be sure to credit them for the original fic. A lot of what I’m seeing is a completed fic gets added on to in a way that completely takes it away from the original idea. Having experienced this myself (on a requested prompt from someone else, no less), I found it kind of rude. Maybe it’s just me, but a completed fic is not a prompt request or something open for building up another story around. It’s already completed. Leave the story as is and let the author know you liked it.

Expecting others to write for you: the prompts are what build this crossover fandom, in my eyes. Prompts are posted and people create something around them, either as a group by adding onto what other people are saying, or as individual fics that one person wrote. Now I’m seeing people throw out prompts that are basically fic outlines, then begging others to write something for it. Like, those prompts are already written! They have very specific details! Why not write it yourself? You’re already halfway there, you can just write the thing you want to see and post it. It’s not about being ‘good’ or ‘bad’ at writing, it’s about crafting an idea to share to the world. Why ask others to write it for you when you’ve already practically done it?

But also, you are not owed fic. This might just be general fandom burn out talking, but being a fic author who has been treated like a machine? It sucks. I love writing, but I share what I write because what I wrote made me happy and I wanted to share that with others. I’m not a content creating machine who has to pump out fic after fic for other people’s entertainment. I just want to share what I love and having people pop up in my notifs only going “write more/tag me/sequel?/etc” is tiring. I get that it’s coming from a place of love bc you liked the fic enough to want to see more, but please actually talk about what I’ve already written instead of going “update? More? MORE????”

Hostility to DC canon: I get that DC canon is a mess, but it still is a canon and has a lot of cool stuff! I’m seeing a lot of posts recently about how dpxdc people refuse to engage with the comics, and I need to let yall know that this is not a new thing. DC fans also refuse to engage with the comics (it’s mostly batfam) and it’s very easy to tell who has and who hasnt ready batfam related stuff bc the fanon is incredibly wrong about characterisation and what happened in comics. But that’s for a different post.

I’m seeing both sides of the argument (this is for fun, reading comics isn’t required, don’t like don’t read vs it’s tiring seeing people butcher my favorite characters into ocs with their name/face, I want to share my love for comics but there’s so much pushback, it shouldn’t be weird to expect people engaging with a media to have actually engaged with that media). And I think you should engage with comics! DP is a unique case in which fanon is for the most part better and more interesting than the original show (also death to the author/butch hartman), but DC comics shouldn’t be engaged with in that way. If you like the characters you see in dpxdc, you should read about them in comics! The whole point of a fandom is that you’re a fan of the original media. That’s why you’re engaging with it in this way, writing within the world and characters and canon.

I don’t know how people write for fandoms when they’re not familiar with the source material. I wanted to write dcxdp so I started rewatching DP. I’m reading comics. I want to know the characters and their stories so I can have a foundation to write from, and also to better understand the media so I can share my love for it. The refusal to engage with source material while engaging with its fandom is so strange to me.

Also dc fans who love the comics are great! In my experience, they’re very kind and willing to help you jump into comics! Don’t know where to start? Pick a character or team and follow them! Want a reading guide? We’ve got TONS. want thoughts on a specific character or comic run? Just ask!

Now to more specific points about what I’m seeing in dcxdp works:

Mischaracterized batfam: this is a group of people who are disasters and have complicated relationships with each other. They’re kind, wonderful people who bring out the best and worst in each other. Why is Batman always adopting people. Why is this a running joke with the batfam. I get it being a joke the first few times, but I’ve seen it so often and done like it’s accurate characterization that I just. I can’t. I leave that fic immediately. I can’t do it anymore. Batman is paranoid and tried very hard to keep kids away from him/away from being a vigilante. Unfortunately all the kids he got are stubborn and smart so he was doomed from the beginning.

Superman and Kon: you guys are pretty much only pulling from Young Justice Animated which I think is a terrible adaptation, but that’s my own taste. But seriously. Clark is kind. That’s an important part of his character! He’s the strongest man in the world and he’s kind. He was also dead when Kon first appeared as a experiment from CADMUS in Hawaii. They’re not father-son, but they are family and they do care for each other, once they get to know each other. Also Kon is not an angry broody boy, he’s funny! And annoying! pls read kon comics guys, i promise youll like his actual character

Chronos??? Guys. Chronos is not a god in DC canon. He is in Greek mythology, but in DC he’s a Captain Atom villain and he’s literally just a guy who got obsessed with having perfect timing. He’s themed around clocks. He has nothing to do with time travel or time gods. The Speedforce is Time, basically, and it is not human. It is an eldritch being beyond our comprehension that can eat people. If it chooses to have a human form, it’s going to choose to look like Bart. Please read Flash stuff, it’s interesting!

Lazarus Pit Madness lasts like 5 minutes in canon. Jason having it, and being affected by it for years, is a purely fanon thing from the dc side. Not going to say anything more on this because it goes into Jason Todd discourse.

Repetition: I’m sorry but I’m tired of seeing the same things over and over. I barely see anything out of the dcxdp tags thats new and fun to engage with. Everything is the same variation of “Danny helps Pit Mad Jason”, “Bruce insta-adopts Danny”, “Superman is mean to clones”, etc etc. Think of any popular dcxdp trope and that’s all you’ll see. I get why these are fun and popular, but the way it’s being engaged with now? It literally makes me exit Tumblr and put my phone down.

Not every prompt has to go down the same routes as the other prompts. Please explore more options, branch out, twist those tropes around to do something new with them. And also stop going onto other people’s fics and saying “what about [dcxdp trope]? Cant wait to see [dcxdp trope]! You should have [dcxdp] trope.” If I didn’t include it, it’s not included for a reason. There are hundreds of other fics that write specifically about those exact tropes. Read those, or write your own. (im being super bitter here but please just let me write what i want to write without trying to pull the story into another direction for a trope you like. Im writing for me, but sharing it for you. Not every fic needs those tropes in them.)

Tumblr specific things: this is less about the content and more about general posting etiquette. Please put long posts under a read more. If it’s more then three paragraphs, consider adding a read more if there is significantly MORE than three paragraphs. Tag appropriately. Content warnings and trigger warnings should be at the very top of the post and in the tags so they can be properly blocked. If you’re posting fic/prompt, please double check your spelling and fix any typos you find because posts that are filled with excessive typos are difficult to read.

There’s probably a lot more to talk about, but just getting this much out is tiring and, frankly, I don’t want to think on it any more today. If you reply/add comments, I won’t get to them in a while bc I will be writing ghostlights and yhk fic to lift my mood :)