#anyway this fic especially is so cute they're so in love | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

husbandhoshi · 5 months

Text

TO GROW LOVE (AND EAT IT TO THE CORE)

pairing: mingyu x gn!reader wc: 8.1k summary: your whole life, you've only wanted one thing. then you meet mingyu. suddenly you want too much, and you wish the summer never ended. notes: farmer!au, established relationship, angst/hurt/a little comfort

this is a birthday fic for my one and only cat @wuahae ! yes this is about half a year late but what can i say. all good things come with time. thank you for being so kind, funny, and thoughtful (and patient)! not a day goes by where i’m not thankful for our friendship :)

and a million thanks to hana @wqnwoos and jackie @97-liners for helping me with edits. literally you guys are insane writers and i will never stop looking up to you.

i. strawberries (the summer we were young)

When a strawberry is ripe, the seeds push out from the heart of the fruit, as if it's bursting from the inside out.

This is one of the few and only things you've learned by living in Seogwipo, where strawberry season comes like a supernova. The May sun, full and heavy, peels into summer, and the roadside farms open their doors, trying to catch stray vacationers from Jeju City on the other side of the island.

That being said, there are approximately two things to do here. One of them is farm. The other is pretend like you have a life, which is your childhood friend Yizhuo's favorite thing to do when she's back from university on summer break.

Today, this involved convincing her ritzy, too-good Seoul friends that they're missing out on this side of Jeju. (Missing out on what? You're not sure. Perhaps the chipped paint of the mural walls, or the endless flat-topped stretches of seagrass. Yizhuo isn't fooling anyone, but you've always liked stretching your legs out in the bed of her pick-up, even on the long drive to nowhere.)

Unsurprisingly, her friends quickly came to the same conclusion. Just one look at your local strawberry patch, with none of the glamour of the bloated tourist traps in the city, and they decided they'd rather spend the afternoon at the beach.

It was then, between the fragaria blooms, when you met Mingyu. He asked for your name, and the rest was history. Yizhuo and co. scattered like the grasping hands of an overripe dandelion and you learned that he was, one, the newly-graduated son of a pair of local farmers, and two, very, very attractive. Almost too much so, especially for a place like this.

Now he holds up a berry, a bright red murder between his fingers, and tells you to try it.

"You must be delusional if you think i'm taking food from a stranger," you laugh, perched on the fence bordering the field. It sprawls before you, melon stripes on the sunbaked ground.

"No, my name is Mingyu," he replies. "No idea who delusional is." His smile, all bright lip and snaggletooth, tears into the scarlet belly of a newly picked strawberry.

"We all know what happened to Persephone."

"Well, if the underworld was a strawberry patch, I wouldn't mind being stuck there for all of eternity."

"What're you picking all these for, anyway?" you ask, watching Mingyu struggle with his too-big straw hat between the vines. His woven basket bleeds over with little berries.

"Jam. I make it on the very first day of every summer."

"Why?"

"You ask a lot of questions for someone who trespassed on my farm. You're cute, but I won't let you off easy."

He laughs at how you balk, clearly red-handed. You're not sure how to tell him you don't think you were supposed to be here either. You don't do things like sit in the back of trucks, trespass, or talk to pretty farmer boys who take a fancy to you, but it's the summer before you graduate and you're not even sure how long you'll have to continue making bad decisions.

"Are you gonna take my first-born now?" you joke instead. The daylight runs down the rim of Mingyu's hat, trickles down his brow, and you wish you could pour the image of him into a jar and keep it forever.

"No, but I will invite you in for some fresh jam on toast. I baked a loaf this morning." and when you say nothing, he continues. "The strawberries are only good once a year. It's the best you'll ever have. Promise."

It's a whine and a half, and somehow you convince yourself this will be the last bad decision you'll make. You've been here long enough to know that good things don't come twice in Seogwipo, and he is unlikely to be an exception.

Yizhuo blows up your phone, you tie the gingham apron around Mingyu's tiny waist, and the basket turns to blood in the saucepan.

Mingyu is right. Love comes to you in that kitchen, high and red like the sun, and the jam never tastes as good as it does that summer.

ii. watermelon (hollowed out, like a magic trick)

"A good watermelon sounds like a heartbeat."

You watch Mingyu heave the fruit, small and striped, out of his grocery bag. It joins the array of egg sandwiches and banana milks you picked up from the store together earlier. (There should have been chocolate Pepero too, but you split the box on the walk).

You're on a picnic, sprawled out on the outcropping overlooking the water. The path up is basically right behind your house, but you had never cared to visit. It had always been the local makeout spot, a schlocky teen crawl for those with nothing better to do, and yet, with Mingyu stretched out beside you, it seems newer. More exciting.

You're still just friends, or at least that's what you told Yizhuo. But ever since you sat on Mingyu's kitchen counter and ate from his jam-covered spatula, you don't think you've gone a week without seeing him. It's been almost two months, which seems so long and yet not long enough—he makes it easy to be greedy.

"See?" He thumps the watermelon with the heel of his palm. "Try it."

You already went through this entire charade at the grocery store, right in front of all the local aunties, but you indulge him. There's little point to triple checking if it's still ripe, but you think he just likes hitting it.

"It sounds good," you say. "But how are we even gonna eat it? We don't have a knife."

"Watch this." Mingyu procures a coin from his pocket. "You didn't learn this in elementary school? I feel like everyone was doing it."

"Here?" you ask, incredulous.

"Yeah, here. I grew up here too, you know."

He holds the edge of the coin to the skin and slams his palm into it once more, so that it lodges itself into the rind, and begins dragging it around the fruit. You start to wonder if he bought the watermelon just to show you a party trick—not that you mind, though. The strain of his biceps peeks through his rolled up white tee, and you remember why he was able to stop you with just one look back when you first met.

"No way." The watermelon is so ripe, it bleeds around the incision. "I feel like I know everyone here. And I definitely would have remembered you."

"I was probably, like, two grades above you," he replies. "And my parents shipped me off to live with my cousins after elementary school. They said I should get out of Seogwipo and experience the real world."

"Good call. There's nothing here." You watch Mingyu spin the melon over to cut through the other side. The coin catches the sunlight, and it looks like gold. "I wish I left for university. The one here is so small."

"Really?" He pauses to show you his handiwork. The two melon halves roll over on their backs, their cut edge cruel and jagged. "Cool, huh?"

"Impressive," you say. "Honestly. I really didn't think that would work."

"I didn't either when I first saw someone do it. But I’ll try anything once," he replies, ripping open the packaging of the plastic spoon from the bag. "I can't believe you don't like it here."

"You do?"

"Yeah. A lot." He shoves the spoon in his mouth, and you watch the watermelon juice pool around his lips. "I missed home. The trees and the tall grass and the ocean. All the fruits. Everything. I learned to ride a bike, right down there by the water."

"Hm." He passes you the spoon. You don't want to hog it, so you carve out a piece bigger than you need. "Are you gonna work at the farm?"

"Maybe. Haven't decided yet," he says. "I think I want to be here, though. Maybe do something with food, but I want to be home."

"That's funny, because I think I’ve always wanted to live a different life. Or at least one somewhere else."

"You want to go to law school, right?"

"Yeah." Mingyu is right. The watermelon is all sugar, and you would almost feel guilty for eating it if it wasn't technically good for you. "I’ve always wanted to be a lawyer. It's something about the people watching, I think."

"That’s really cool," Mingyu says, mouth full but no less sincere. It's then that you notice your shoulders are almost touching, and your heart crawls back up to your mouth. "You know what you want. I admire that."

He makes it sound like a compliment, but you're sure it's a curse.

You think of your parents. There's a permanent wrinkle ironed into their foreheads, the paper crease of expectations and high standards. It's not that they didn't care, but their kind of care was a humbled sort, made heavy by a hard life. It didn't help that your big sister Seohyun went straight from Yonsei to work a big tech job in San Francisco and never once looked back.

But you can't blame any of them—wanting has always been a hereditary failing. Sometimes Yizhuo will catch you frowning at nothing, and then you remember that life isn't a performance and every day ends at the same time no matter how hard you work. But you don't know how to tell her that the only thing you can do sometimes is want, because otherwise you wouldn't really have much at all.

It seems like the exact opposite of how Mingyu lives—everything about him seems to pass like the seasons. Maybe that's why you can't seem to get enough of each other.

"Thank you. Really." You dig the spoon into your half of the melon. There isn't much left. "You're way too nice to me."

"It’s not hard to be," he laughs. "Maybe you're just too hard on yourself."

You're losing track of the distance between the two of you. You can almost feel the heat playing off his skin.

"Maybe."

It's then, under the veil of summer, where you meet Mingyu's gaze and, finally, things seem close to simple.

All you know are his eyes, heavy with sun, and then the slow, slow move of his lips against yours. He tastes like August, long and sweet, and for once you know what it's like to not only want, but to have, and to have again.

The ocean sings on the horizon, and the watermelon bellies weep.

iii. adzuki beans (or, the blood of a headless taiyaki)

Mingyu eats taiyaki headfirst because he says it hurts less.

"That makes no sense," you tell him, your pinkies linked. You never really liked holding hands, but yours fits so perfectly in Mingyu's and there's some girlish, childlike shine to it when you watch his finger search for yours after just a moment separated.

"What do you mean."

He breaks your gaze to eye a red bean taiyaki, like an unwilling predator sizing up their prey. It's the lamest, most embarrassing iteration of National Geographic you've ever seen, and yet you cannot find any fiber within yourself not deeply in love with the lion.

Fall is a forgiving place for your relationship to settle. You're now a senior at university and he's started his gap year. Gap implies he's in the middle of something, but in true Mingyu fashion, he leaves it up to fate, or chance, or something not nearly as kind (whim).

"Taiyaki isn't alive. And why would you want to pretend it is? Eating gummy bears would become an extinction event."

"It kind of is." He holds out the tail end of the taiyaki, the pastry almost explicitly flayed open, in front of you to eat. "Why does the Haribo bear have a face? Why do the gummy bears live in a gummy forest?"

"Great, so now I can’t even enjoy gummy bears without feeling like a serial killer?"

You dig your pointer into his shoulders, broad from all the time he spends on the farm. To think that his hands, big and weathered, were made to pick berries (and now wrap around your pinky finger) is bruising, if not ridiculously funny.

"It's a crime of passion. Gummy passion. Prosecute that."

He kisses your cheek and your heart almost squeezes into two.

The terrible thing about being with Mingyu is how seemingly endless his affection is. Now he's feeding you in public and buying the two of you matching socks (cat and dog, to be exact), although you'll admit it's a little charming, even if the neighbors do gossip.

He's sweet, too sweet, and his kisses stick to the back of your throat.

But you can't be fooled. There's an unsaid violence to the way Mingyu loves. (The meticulous spiral of the peel he carves when you ask for him to cut you an apple. The grind, decisive and cruel, of a knife against a cutting board. A pair of canines against your neck, your jaw.)

Even now, he bites the head off another unwitting taiyaki before stuffing it back in the bag.

"We're still splitsing, right?" he says, with perhaps 1% of his mouth available for speaking and the other 99% murder machine.

Splits, he always says before you share food. You never had the heart to tell him that it's in the same family as mines or sharesies or takebacks—silly childhood relics, ones that no one uses anymore because they don't mean anything.

This time, you don't hear him because you're thinking about the law school fair you went to before Mingyu picked you up. The future is so close, it scares you. A year from now, what ground would you be standing on? Would it smell like this—the peat, the thread-spool fields, the balm of the ocean? Would you still have Mingyu's finger wrapped round yours?

"Have you decided if you're staying at the farm?" you ask.

"Not really." He uses the back of his hand to wipe off his chin. "If my sister decides to take over, I’m actually kinda thinking of going to pastry school instead of getting a masters."

Mingyu had been toying with the idea for some time after you had talked about it on the outlook. It started off as a joke (September; a galette), then a what if (October; green tea mochi), and now it sits at a kinda.

"Kinda?"

The word gathers speed in the pachinko machine of your mind. You never liked being a kinda person. For Mingyu, it seems like a luxury of a word, but for you, it's really just another thing to hide behind. Kinda talented, kinda ambitious, kinda just there. You're always one foot in, one foot out of something better.

"Yeah, kinda. Why?"

"I dunno. What if we both end up leaving?"

"Maybe. You still want to, right?"

You would be lying if you said you didn't—it's what you always wanted. Seogwipo has been a sun-rot, too-small crutch for you, but you would also be lying if you said you weren't terrified that you'd eventually come back, limping like some doomed Icarus, unable to truly make it in the real world.

Then you think of the pockmarked farmland beside your home, lacy with the fall harvest. Even now, you can trace the endless blue of the coastline all the way there, cut through all the maybes and just let the sound of the ocean fold you into sleep like you were a child again. You wonder if Seohyun, all the way on the other side of the world, ever misses it.

"I’m not sure," you say, because, as much as you don't like it, it's the only answer you have.

"It's ok. You'll figure it out. You always do." He squeezes your cheeks together between his thumb and index, laughing at how they pillow out underneath his fingers. "Screw pastry school. I could come with you. Who else would keep you fed?"

Mingyu's complete and unfounded belief in you makes you feel something close to betrayal. How could he say any of that? With what proof? Only someone like Mingyu would be able to hold the wrinkled fruit of your unremarkable life between his palms and see something better than that. Maybe it's because he grew up on a farm. Either that, or he already cares for you too much, too painfully.

Secrets are easy to keep when they look like yours. At least here, in the pit of your stomach, you can keep count, take attendance of them, all your tittering, small anxieties. Some days it feels like your ribs are pressing out, but it's better than cutting everything loose to spill out over what little you do have control over.

You can handle a little pressure. You have to.

What concerns you is the hand Mingyu's got across your chest. With one look, he just might gut you. A twist of the heart-knife, and all those carefully wound insides carved out in an instant—maybe he'd pity you, but worse than that, he'd likely be disappointed.

For you, expectation has always stood taller than shame, and the idea that he sees something past you makes you want to run away.

"I could be a house husband," he says as easily as ever. "You'll be off saving the world, arguing with whoever, and I'll be there to run you a bath afterwards."

"Let's not get too ahead of ourselves," you reply, binding up the strange, hollow feeling in your stomach with a laugh.

There's a scared little girl hiding inside you, and whether Mingyu sees her or not hurts the same. A spade is a spade. You can only pretend so long.

You look at the taiyaki floating in their wax paper bag, blinded and wrought open by the same grin that now peels you down, and you're not hungry anymore.

iv. winter pears (rotten, outside your parents' house)

Mingyu's family loves Christmas.

You think it's because of the pear trees they have in the front yard. They stand bravely before the house, all emerald ash and wisdom in the December freeze. Run your palms over the knobs and it's like you can see into a sleepy visage of simpler days past. (Below its heart, carved: 1982, the year the farm was bought. Along the tangle of the roots: gyu waz here, in an unsure, childish scrawl.)

Winter comes to the countryside crawling on its hands and knees. On days it doesn't snow, there's a mist, boggy and clingy. You've come to realize the cold is more of a threat than a promise, and so the pear trees still bear fruit; the silvery branches hang heavy, faithful.

The first day of December, Mingyu's parents had tasked the two of you with decorating the farmhouse, a duty you took very seriously. You wrapped Mingyu up in string lights and watched him blink in and out like your own personal firefly.

It wasn't until you watched the rafters, the barn doors, the joyous vault of the ceiling all glow, like a spectacular firework, that you finally started to understand why Mingyu was so into the holidays.

It was in the yellow blush of the string lights that you had your first pear from the tree, which Mingyu insisted was a holiday tradition. We make poached pears, he said, mid-bite. You simmer the pear in syrup until it gets so soft, you can cut into it with a fork. Just like butter.

That same night, he kissed you, mouth hot and trembling and tasting of honey, and pressed you against the bark so hard, you could feel the grit of its veins against your skin.

You think December became your favorite month, and pears your favorite fruit.

So much so, that for the entire month, you try to put away your worries about law school applications to celebrate with Mingyu and his family.

You learn his mom makes the best hot chocolate (a cinnamon stick and a dogged devotion to the whisk), and that Mingyu has no clue on God's green earth how to ice skate. (He careens right into your chest the first time. You spend the next hour with him attached to you like a backpack—he manages to find the most impractical ways to do anything, which you somehow admire the most). On Sundays, Yizhuo ditches her Seoul friends and instead accompanies you to the mall two towns over, where she watches you compare different ties and watches and collagen creams as you decide on gifts for his family. (Lilac is so last year, she'd say, stirring the straw of a watered-down milk tea.)

It's not until the weekend before Christmas when you realize just how serious things have gotten. Your feet understand the meander of the dirt path to the farmhouse, your bones the scent of the yellow-skinned apple, the faded wildflowers. Your palms crave the plush of the rug they have in front of the fireplace. Hell, you can't even eat soondubu without thinking of the kind Mingyu's dad makes, with extra anchovies and green onion.

You don't think about what this means. There are ten days left in December and love poured from a full cup never seems to run out.

"Please let me carry some of those," Mingyu wheedles. "Oh my god. I'm like the worst boyfriend in the world."

"No, you are not." you make your way up to his doorstep, taking care to one-two step over the stray roots of one of the pear trees. It's second nature to you by now. "The moment I hand you a box, you are gonna start trying to figure out what it is."

He harumphs and plucks the big one off the top anyway, the one he knows you can't reach. "I didn't even know you were getting us gifts. You didn't have to."

"It's the least I could do. Who shows up to a holiday dinner emptyhanded?" You stop at the front door. "And stop shaking it," you laugh, using the tip of your boot to nudge his shin.

"Okay. Okay," he says, saccharine, adoring, before grabbing the doorknob. "Ready? Are you nervous? You shouldn't be nervous, right? It's not fancy or anything, if you were worried about that."

And that's the thing that wedges itself between your ribs. Mingyu and his whole family are like this. They love and worry and love again; it presses deep into you, fills you, and overflows.

So here you are, standing in your nicest dress and balancing a stack of gifts you hope will amount to something, never enough but something, to repay the people who you feel have loved you more than you deserve. It's all you really have. You do your best, and yet you know when that door opens, it'll all be washed away in a high-tide flurry of hugs and laughter and the familiar press of Bobpul's wet nose against your leg. They're just those kinds of people—they would be just as happy if you didn't bring anything at all, and somehow that makes you feel even more guilty.

"No, no," you wave him off. "I’m fine. Excited."

When Mingyu opens the door, everything goes just as you expected. His sister takes your coat, your gifts are whisked away to the tree (Aji has already figured out which one is his), and his parents descend upon you in a choking swell of warmth and charity.

We baked some fresh bread for your parents (—Thank you so much, but you really shouldn't have.). You look so beautiful in that color (—No, no, you flatter me too much.). Mingyu better be taking good care of you (—He is. He really, really is.).

The kitchen is gauzy with cinnamon, anise. They must be making their famous poached pears, which Mingyu remarks on, just like clockwork.

Dinner passes the same way. It bubbles over with affection, and you feel swallowed by an impossible yearning. This—a full table and a hand to hold underneath it—did you deserve this? And could you keep it?

For an instant, you picture yourself, years later, at this same seat. Mingyu would be fussing over the rice cakes, his apron still gingham because it reminds him of the day you two met. His parents, grayer but no less happy, bickering over the shade of tinsel on the tree. And the dogs, coiled at your feet like they are now. The vision laps at your bones like you're a raft in a storm.

You're pulled back into the moment when Mingyu squeezes your hand, grounding and insistent. "Mom asked how school was going. I told her I think you're basically the smartest person I know, and I’m pretty sure you're getting into whatever law school you want."

Mingyu's parents laugh, and they cut through their pears.

"Oh, sorry," you say. "Um."

Clink. Knife meets flesh, meets porcelain. Your cheeks are hot. You wanted to talk about anything other than yourself tonight. Clink.

"The top programs are a reach, but it'd be nice." clink. "I just want to get in somewhere."

"They’re all so far away," Mingyu's mom remarks. "So grown up. Any school will be lucky to have you. You'll get into all of them."

Clink.

"Or maybe you can stay here." You watch the prongs of Mingyu's father's fork disappear into the pear. "Keep us old folk company."

"No, no, I think Mingyu should take notes and get off his lazy ass," his sister says, teasing. "Going back to the city will be good for him."

"So you can, what, burn down the kitchen again?" Mingyu grumbles, and the whole table seems to boil over with laughter.

"We’re kidding," his mom tells you. "No matter where you go, I’m sure you'll do great. We can even throw you a party at the end of the year. For graduating."

Clink. Clink.

There's a horrible uneasiness writhing around in your stomach. It's pear and syrup and clove and a blackness, an anxious, selfish one that sucks up all the generosity of the evening and turns it into shame.

Mingyu's mom is talking about throwing you a graduation party, something you didn't even think to do for yourself, and here you are, thinking about the shaking moment you open your rejection letters and the lonely path you'll draw on your way back home.

It's ok. They missed out, Mingyu would say, pouring you a consolation drink, and then it would be over. You'd go home and sit on your bed and the trifold piece of paper would go round and round your head like it was in a washing machine.

Your heart, an inventory of tasks and goals and tally marks. Things you've taken and things you've owed. It's a soft, boneless excuse. Be grateful. Give them that, at least.

Clink.

Dessert ends before you can tell his family not to get their hopes up. Mingyu's mom sends you off with your loaf of bread and a kiss on the cheek, and the moment is gone.

"Gyu," you call out on the steps in front of the house.

There are words at the seam of your lips. You want to tell him you're sorry for worrying so much. For making the whole dinner about you and then very possibly having nothing to show for it when it matters. For the heaviness in your chest. Your cowardice. But none of it comes out.

Instead you watch Mingyu pull at the leaves of a pear tree, watching the frost-filigree they get at the end of the season. He looks over his shoulder and smiles at you, as if he's on the hazy cover of a magazine. His eyes bend so wonderfully at the corners when he looks at you, and it breaks your heart.

"You had fun, right?" he asks. "My parents like you a lot, you know. I think they really do."

But that's the problem, you want to say. You all do, and I have no idea why.

Some of the pears are beginning to rot now. You watch one drop off the vine, and it caves to the pavement like it was made of nothing at all.

v. wild barley (grows like weeds)

In March, you play house.

Your parents leave on a two week trip to see relatives, and Mingyu takes it upon himself to make sure you survive.

It's a kind, blinding charade.

(7 am, breakfast. You usually don't even eat breakfast, but you wake up to doenjang and a smile, one that presses itself to yours until you're wearing it on the long walk to school.)

(4 pm, the stretch between lunch and dinner. You're muddling through another useless club meeting when Mingyu sends you a picture of him in your mom's apron, making kimchi. Kiss the chef, he texts you. You promise to, over and over and over.)

It's good until it isn't.

That isn't to say that it's Mingyu's fault. In fact, it's never really Mingyu's fault, and that's the worst thing about your relationship. Sometimes you wish he was worse just so there was someone else to blame.

(1 am, a fridge-cold glass of water and a hand on the column of your spine. Can't sleep? He asks. Just had a weird dream, you say.

It's a lie. You're a liar.

You miss your parents and the first wave of acceptance letters comes out in two days. You're not like him. Sleep has never been a cure for the exhaustion you're feeling, and you have no way of telling him that however warm the bed is won't fix that.)

It's on a Thursday afternoon when you open your mailbox and see the tiny, thin envelope that you've been expecting for the past week. You don't need to open it to know what it says, and yet you do it anyway.

The sun is white, a ghost in the spring sky. The ocean bleeds into the overcast, the curly barley stands tall around your feet, and you let the worst letter you've gotten in your life fall upon your shoulders, word by terrible word.

Then you close it, pinching the seam shut, and draw up your brave face. Nothing left to do but be brave. You're convinced you've used up all the sadness in your relationship—spend in pennies and the well still runs dry. Mingyu will cup your cheek and call you darling, pouring into your emptying basin, holey and broken.

You see him now through the kitchen window, Venus in his clamshell of a kitchen. Galbijjim day, he had said this morning. Now, he waves at you, glittery with recognition.

Your throat feels like crumpled paper.

Mingyu smiles at you, hazy through the glass. Your cheeks hurt and your mouth is paper mache, but you smile back anyway.

///

The letters come one after another.

You know what the envelopes hold and yet you keep opening them. The little folder you keep stashed in your bottom drawer gets fatter every passing day because you can't help but revisit your misery, almost as if you need to remind yourself it exists.

Mingyu is none the wiser. Today he decides he'll put off pastry school for one more year. "It doesn't feel like the right time," he says, rolling a log of burdock kimbap up. "You know what I mean?"

No, you don't. You never really do.

You do know, however, that it would feel really fucking bad that, come the end of the year, to have nothing. All your friends would be going somewhere—even Yizhuo opened her acceptance to an MFA program in Shanghai yesterday—and you would be here, still, feet firmly planted in the muddy Jeju dirt like they always had been.

"Hey, don't look so disappointed." he jokes. "Don't tell me you're already trying to get rid of me."

You're not, you really aren't. But part of you wonders if it's just a race to the bottom. If you got rid of him before he decided he wanted to get rid of you, maybe it would hurt a lot less. One less letter for the folder.

"Never. But imagine if you picked up a French accent at pastry school. Then I’d consider it. Maybe."

You watch his knife rock back and forth on the cutting board as he cuts the kimbap.

"Some for you. And more for me," he says, in what you can only describe as someone attempting to speak French when they've never heard it before. "Unless you want more, mon cherie."

He brings the plates to the table, his grin nothing short of dizzying.

"I’m irresistible, huh? Still wanna leave me now?"

"You're gonna have to try a little harder than that, I think."

The words roll off your tongue, easily, traitorously.

You watch the kimbap disappear off of Mingyu's plate.

Going, going, gone.

///

Seogwipo is always dark at night, only kept alive by the glow of the moonlit sea.

You can't sleep. Again. And so you sit out on the steps in front of your house, letting the twilight wrap around you like a blanket.

You got your last letter back earlier today. You held your breath and tore it open like you would a birthday card with money in it.

Waitlisted.

It was surely better than a rejection, but some naive, child-eyed part of you thought that if you had just closed your eyes and hoped hard enough, things would work out the way you had planned. Tragically, it wasn't enough this time. You wanted and wanted and you thought maybe that would mean you'd come close to deserving it.

Your parents called today. After managing to sideline the issue of basically the rest of your entire life, they had finally cut through your sad little charade. No good news yet, huh?

No, but—

It was always like that with you. No, but it's not as bad as you think. No, but give me a chance. No, but I’m trying. I've been trying.

You wish things didn't come out of you so complicated. That you could be like Seohyun, who could go through school with her eyes closed and still graduate at the top of her class. Instead, you parade around your little failures, trying to convince people it all could mean something only if they squinted. See? It isn't so bad.

You think you're past the point of crying about it. Your stomach hurts, you're cold, and most of all, you just want to go back to bed. Plus, although Mingyu sleeps like a log, you think he's developed a sixth sense for whenever you get up too early.

Time to be brave, you've been telling yourself, although you don't know who you're pretending for anymore.

So you nudge the front door open—it's so old, it wails if you come at it with any more force—and, to your surprise, see the light above the kitchen sink turned on.

It's not very bright, but it's enough to make out Mingyu's broad silhouette, back turned to you as he makes a cup of tea. He's humming one of his made-up songs.

"Mingyu?"

"There you are," he says, turning around. "Just came out to check on you. And make you some tea."

The kettle whizzes. Your gut twists.

You still haven't said anything to Mingyu. To manage your own disappointment was one thing—you don't think you could handle another person's. And yet when he stands there, Pororo mug between his huge hands, you feel as if you are holding a knife, big and guilty and bloody.

"I-I'm fine, Gyu. Honest." you watch his expression flicker, unreadable in the persimmon lamplight. "Sorry you had to come out. It's chilly out here."

"You know, you can tell me what's going on. I won't judge."

No, no, no. This is the last conversation you wanted to have, with the last person you wanted to have it with.

You feel feverish. You think your hands are shaking.

"Mingyu, I swear—"

"Whatever it is, we can fix it. I know we can."

That almost makes you want to laugh if you didn't want to cry so bad. Of fucking course he would say that. Mingyu, who treats life like it's the watermelon trick he showed you on the outlook, wants to put a bandaid on this whole thing, as if that could come close to fixing it.

He'd tell you to curl up on the couch with a bad movie while he orders takeout. Kiss you on the top of the head. It's ok, baby. Just another bad day for the person who has the worst luck in the world. Another lump of problems for him to try and make better. If he isn't sick of you now, he sure would be soon enough.

"It’s okay," you say, steeling your voice. "It really isn't a big deal. Let's just go back to sleep."

You try to walk away, but the hardness in Mingyu's eyes roots you down to the tile.

"Stop doing that."

"Doing what?"

"Pushing me away," he swallows. "Like you always do. I know something's going on."

"I’m not, i just—"

"You just what? You can't help it?"

"No, I—"

"Because you like to know that you can? That you can say whatever and then watch me come back?" A fragmented, heavy silence thrums between you. He's looking at you like he's daring you to say something, anything. His gaze is black. "What am I good for if you can't tell me anything?"

There's that familiar, stinging pressure behind your eyes. You think you're crying, but you're not sure. Maybe you've been crying this whole time.

"Fine," you bite. Your blood feels like hot metal. "You really wanna know? I didn't get into law school. There. Happy now?"

Mingyu looks stung.

"W-why didn't you tell me?"

Because I thought you would stop loving me. I thought you would have finally had enough.

"Because it's not all about you, Mingyu."

The words, selfish and damning, burn your tongue. Mingyu is right. This is what you always do. You fuck up and then make everyone else hurt for it.

"I'm sorry," Mingyu says. His voice doesn't sound like his. Instead, the words seem to hang in the air, trembling and holding their breath, waiting for an apology you can't give yet. "I shouldn't have—"

"It's ok." You swallow hard, and it hurts. "Let's just go back to bed."

It's getting colder and colder. You think there's a little hole in your sock, right above the cat's whiskers.

Mingyu doesn't reach for you as he passes to get to the hallway. Maybe he doesn't know how to anymore.

The Pororo cup is left abandoned on the counter. You walk over and read the label on the tea bag—barley, because you have class tomorrow morning.

You pick it up, let the ceramic buzz between your hands with whatever warmth it has left, and hold it to your lips.

It's cold now, but all you can think to do is drink it. Erase all the evidence that tonight ever happened, and maybe it'll be nothing more than a bad dream in the morning.

There's honey at the bottom of the cup. It sears the back of your throat, but you drink until there's nothing left.

vi. the peach blossoms (without fail, bloom every August. I miss you.)

You broke up the next day.

Even now, you remember what happened. You had woken up early that morning to make your own breakfast because you couldn't allow Mingyu to give you any more of himself. Your hands could only hold, shatter, so much.

"Mingyu, I think we should...." You looked at the zigzags of jam on your toast, angry and uneven. "I think we should stop seeing each other. For now," you had added, as if that made anything better at all.

Somehow that seemed more merciful at the time. Really, you think it just showed your cowardice. If you were going to break his heart, you might as well have gone all the way the first time.

Maybe it was a good thing that Mingyu saw right through you. He always did.

"So that's it, huh? You're just gonna give up on us?"

"No, I just...need some time."

"How long?" he asked. "Be honest with me. Because you know I’ll wait."

"I don't know." You couldn't meet his gaze. His eyes reached and reached over that kitchen table and you denied him even that.

"Don't you always know?" he asked, pitifully, desperately. "Don't you want this to work?"

And you did. In fact, you don't think you had ever wanted anything more, and it was that that scared you. You had already lost law school—you couldn't let the only other thing in your life let you go. So you pulled the trigger first.

"We should just end things. I'm sorry. I can't give you what you need."

He packed his bag within the hour, and you think everything, from then on, froze inside you. You didn't move from your seat until your parents came home from the airport later that day and asked why there were two plates of toast still on the table.

You think you knew, someplace, inevitably, this would happen. You, who only knew hunger, had reached deep inside Mingyu and rooted out a love you didn't think you were worthy of having. And yet you still ate from the vine, bite after guilty bite, until you couldn't take any more. The only time he asked you for anything at all, you couldn't give it to him—such was the irony of your relationship.

Maybe you were doomed the moment the first strawberry hit your tongue, just like you had said, all that time ago.

About a month later, you got another letter in the mail. Chungnam National University Law School, it read. This one was fat, in one of those brown envelopes lined with bubble wrap. Somehow, miraculously, that position on the waitlist had turned into an acceptance. You held the package to your chest and cried, loud and with abandon, as if taking a deep breath after almost drowning.

Ironically, the first person you wanted to tell was Mingyu. But the good news you needed to save your relationship came too little, too late. Perhaps that meant it had no legs to stand on in the first place, but that didn't stop you from missing it. Instead, you told Yizhuo, and she drove you to Jeju City and treated you to dinner. "You should just call him," she had said. "Hey, don't look at me like that. He'd probably pick up on the first ring."

The city is swathed in August's crimson summer—peach season. The narrow streets are lined with peach trees, the fruits glowing like fat drops of sunlight. All you do these days is plan for your eventual move to Daejeon and the start of a life that seems newer and shinier than your own. But surrounded by the cicada song, the velvet treeline, the rain-soaked asphalt, somehow you think you're going to miss Seogwipo more than you think.

(Fickle, fickle heart. You always needed things to be taken away to really be able to appreciate them. Somehow, all that wanting had boiled down to something more satisfying, more filling.)

You wonder how Mingyu is. Now that you think about it, he seems just as much a part of Seogwipo as the farm he lives on. It was only last summer when you had first met him in the field, set on fire by the strawberry harvest. You think about him now, peddling around that ridiculous wicker basket to make jam. Maybe talking to another pretty girl, someone as naive, cruel as you had been.

Not long ago, you considered calling him to apologize, but that'd just be another thing to be selfish about. A little time and some warm weather, and I’m calling to finally wash my hands of you. That's what it would sound like, no matter what you said. Still, it didn't stop you from thinking of him, every flower, every season.

"You know, I always wanted to grow peach trees. But I think we've always been a pear kind of family."

Mingyu. If a voice could cut through air, it'd be his.

You whip around, half-believing you're hearing things. Certainly that would be easier, but you're learning that there are some things you can't run from.

And like a picture, Mingyu stands tall, golden, framed by the peach blossoms. Not a thing about him has changed. Not even the way he looks at you.

"Mingyu," you breathe. Unfortunately, none of the times you replayed your last conversation with him help you come up with something to say, because in none of them did you anticipate him coming back. "W-what are you doing here?"

"I live here, silly."

"No way," you reply, scrambling. "Crazy, because I live here too."

You both laugh nervously, a silly, bubbly thing, but you feel like you're going to throw up. It's only now that you realize you're kind of on the walk to his place. Seogwipo has never had places to hide.

"I...um." You try and disentangle the guilt from the nostalgia from the scent of the peaches and the warmth on his face. They all look the same. You missed him. "I got into law school. In Daejeon."

"I heard," he says. "Not surprised at all. I always knew you would."

"Thank you. I mean it." The cicadas buzz around you, as if they know they have an important silence to fill. "You're staying in town, right?"

"Actually, I decided to apply to culinary school. It finally felt right, you know? I'm leaving at the end of the summer, but it's just in Jeju City. I couldn't leave the island."

"Thank goodness. I don't know if you could tell, but I kind of always hoped you would. I don't think I’ve ever eaten better food." Your voice wobbles, but it gets there. "You'll do amazing."

Then time stretches and forces you to recognize, reckon with, the moment you're in. You wonder if he feels the same way you do—bruised, overripe. If there's still a space in his heart for you.

Deep breath. Life only gives you so many chances.

"Mingyu, I’m sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't make us work. You deserved better." Saying it feels like peeling the skin of your heart back. There's still a palpable distance between the two of you—you think that had always been there—but it feels more comfortable in a way it never did before.

"Don’t apologize," he says, easily, as he always does. Everything seems to flow off him like water, and you think that's the part of him you loved the most because it was the one thing you couldn't touch. "We loved each other. I think that much was true."

A jasmine breeze curls through the trees, sending the blossoms fluttering around you like ink in water. The very first time you met Mingyu, you thought the image of him, haloed with the sunset, was the one you wanted to keep forever. And yet, somehow, you don't think you'll ever forget the way he looks right now.

"Will you ever come back to Seogwipo?" you ask.

"I was gonna ask you the same thing—you were always the one who wanted to get out of here." He grins, ear to ear. "Of course I'm coming back. There's nowhere I'd rather be."

"Yeah. I think I know what you mean."

The sea, the clay dirt, Mingyu. Even yourself, clumsy and care-worn. You think, somewhere along the line, you forgot how to love. But you're learning—one step at a time.

"Friends," you say. "Let's be friends. If you'll let me."

"Thought you would never ask. Gladly. Always." The space between you seizes, like it's holding in a breath. Maybe one day, you'll think of closing it once more, but you like where you stand now. You can admire him better from a distance, without your fingerprints all over him. He stuffs his hands in his pockets, something he does before he gets ready to leave. But before he does—"I'll see you soon, okay? You better come back. Promise me."

For the first time, you see the honesty in his eyes and you really, truly believe him.

"Promise."

The Seogwipo sun is high and red in the sky when you wave Mingyu goodbye. It feels like you're coming to an end of a long summer, but you're not afraid. You watch the wind dance through the peach blossoms, their branches never searching, never wanting, and you finally feel as if you've arrived home.

#literally on my hands and knees begging for the tags to work #mine #mingyu #mingyu x reader #mingyu x you #mingyu angst #seventeen angst #mingyu imagines

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cor-lapis · 5 months

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I decided to have a go at doing my own redesigns because these three are my favourites and I love them very much. further notes + sources under the readmore (warning: lots of text). I did my best with the research, but if there's anything I overlooked, I'd really appreciate people letting me know :)

Tighnari:

My main source for Tighnari was this excellent thread, from which I looked up each item of clothing individually. Since djellabas tend to be quite long, and Tighnari needs mobility for forest ranger activities, I figured he would cut and re-hem the lower half. He also has a lot of clothing pieces that are traditionally multicoloured, but to keep his design cohesive I decided to use the same colours across different items, but using a larger palette of colours than I would usually. I like the bright colours on him a lot though!

There are also some minor details I just changed because I wanted to. The flower on his chest is now a nilotpala lotus, because I thought it was nice to include his acension material/the material he asks you to help gather. The dirt stains/scuff marks are because rainforests are muddy and I wanted the design to emphasise Tighnari being very practical and hands-on with his work (see also, the specimen belt).

Finally, I shrunk the magnifying glass on his back (because I'm pretty sure it's meant to be his first magnifying glass toy and that thing is very large for a child to handle) and gave him an undercut because it seemed right. Also, I merged his front and back trailing cloths into a scarf type of thing that he could wrap around his nose and mouth to prevent inhaling spores from mushrooms.

Collei:

COLLEI my beloved. I had a mild nightmare trying to figure out a specific source culture for her design, but nobody seemed to know specifics and her outfit wasn't matching with any traditional dress I looked up, so in the end decided to keep the overall look the same. Just in case I assigned her something else, but then it turned out I missed her actual inspiration.

Anyway, I made her shoes simpler (no fur, heels, and open toes in the rainforest seemed reasonable to me), and gave her shorts. I liked the green colour because it's pretty unique under a dark dress, and pairs nicely with Nahida's white dress + green undersides. Amber's tie stays, but I made most of her jewellery smaller since it felt a little clunky for a trainee ranger.

Her earring and necklace(?) are allusions to the Evil Eye and the Khmissa/Hamsa, both symbols of protection. Especially considering the fact they're meant to ward off evil, and very common across multiple MENA cultures, it seemed fitting for Collei to have them. Also, she has Eleazar scars, and I used the design for her stockings as inspiration for the combination knee braces (similar to those used for arthritis, since Eleazar also causes stiff limbs and I HC that people affected would probably still need some recovery support)/knee pads (in the case of a fall). I like the idea that Kaveh would have helped make them for her (tangent but the fic Here is the House explores similar ideas; it's really really good, I heavily recommend it). Finally, she has curly hair because I thought it would be cute.

Cyno:

Here's the thread I found for Cyno. The main critique was to do with the eras from which each aspect of his clothing drew inspiration, but I admittedly wouldn't be able to do much about this without a lot of research. One thing I did try and verify was the small strip of cloth on the left of his chest, and I found a few wall murals where the people seem to be wearing similar strips of cloth? (example here; rightmost figure) Therefore, I didn't remove it, but if someone wants to explain Ancient Egyptian clothing history to me I'd be really interested to hear it 6.6

I might iterate on the design in the future, but for now the changes are mostly HC territory. Cyno wearing his hair in locs (a protective hairstyle) makes sense for someone who does a lot of hiking after rogue scholars, and I also gave him quite old and faded top surgery scars because healthcare is canonically free in Sumeru (thanks for that information, al-Haitham)(though tbf Cyno makes bank anyway). I also adjusted the colours a bit, since Genshin tends to use desaturated shades for metallic elements.

I also considered giving Cyno more scars, but figured that it could indicate Hermanubis' presence that someone you'd expect to get injured a lot is relatively scar-free (i.e. some sort of godly healing factor/resistance to damage). However, we know next to nothing about Hermanubis, so Cyno having a lot of scars also makes sense. This paragraph is mostly just a cry for help cyno story quest 2 literally any more elaboration about the nature of Hermanubis' pact and the Temple of Silence.

Conclusion

I wasn't intending to write one when I started the explanations but this got REALLY long so if you made it this far, thank you so so much ToT please check out the links; the threads especially were a great resource, and I'm grateful that people take the time to make them <3 genshin's character design department are cowards but I'm glad I learned some new things through the redesign process

#FINALLY #IT'S DONE #I don't know why this took so long. maybe because I was trying new art style stuff #anyway I like how this came out!! my favourite guys #my main thoughts for each of them were like. tighnari <- kind of a chad. collei <- should get to wear shorts. cyno <- gap moe #<- i say having written 9 paragraphs about the development thoughts under the readmore. wahey #big shoutout to everyone who draws the archers ripped. you guys are inspirational #genshin impact #tighnari #collei #cyno #my art

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hurtspideyparker · 3 months

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Hi, sorry but could you recommend any of your favourite Peter Parker fics please?

For sure !!! *cracks open ao3 bookmarks*

Thirty Hours by polaroid15 - Peter doesn't take any breaks during a lengthy fight with the Avengers. The mind-melting fever that follows really should have been expected.

Hurt Peter Parker, my favourite tag <3 I love when Spider-Man is a badass and also lacks self-preservation. He's so cool fighting alongside the Avengers and we get some sweet hurt/comfort irondad!

Fitting In (Tiny Spaces) by aloneintherain - Peter's trapped beneath a collapsed building during a mission, hurt and unable to move. Luckily, his comm still works. Unluckily, the Avengers don’t realise how bad of a state Peter is in, and Peter isn’t inclined to tell them.

This fic is an icon in the fandom and for GOOD REASON. I just can not get enough of Peter Parker hiding his injuries. More heavy whump and angst!

All good things come in threes by Bergen - Peter has three secret identities: Spider-Man, the superhero who swings around the city to save people. Parker Benjamin, who gives Tony Stark unsolicited advice on his research. And NightMonkey, the Instagrammer who keeps uploading increasingly popular but embarrassing drawings of Iron Man.

And he can juggle them all just fine, thankyouverymuch.

Okay here is the fluff!!! Peter is a genius, a menace, and a sweetheart. Tony Stark runs into him (again and again) and can't help but have a soft spot for him every time. Funny and cute and an all 'round good time!

Held Together by Spiderwebs by TunaFishChris - Steve is not coping well in the twenty-first century. At all. Three months after the Chitauri invasion, he decides he's had enough.

But just as he's about to end it all, he runs into the new hero in town.

This one focuses a lot on Steve but I really like him and Peter's relationship in it, and I think this is great Peter Parker characterization. TW for discussions of depression and suicide, it gets a bit dark!

5 Times Spider-Man Saved an Avenger's Ass (and 1 Time They Saved Him) by TunaFishChris - this fic showcases how strong and capable Peter is, he's definitely a BAMF. I really like this genre where the Avengers know Spider-Man but not Peter Parker, makes Peter feel more independent and mature like in the comics.

Five Time Faculty Members Had to Call Peter's Emergency Contact + One Time He Shows Up Anyway, Five Times Tony Stark's Fabled Intern Just Showed Up + One Time He Was Invited, and Five Times Strangers Talked About Peter and Tony + One time Someone They Know Did by kingdomfaraway - I am just gonna recommend this entire series. Super fluffy, extreme irondad and spiderson. They're just adorable from an outside perspective and I love when Peter gets to just be Tony's intern and a teenager for a while :)

research and disaster by blueh - “So, uh, Mr. Stark definitely knows Roomba-Kid,” Becket says and discreetly tilts his head in the direction of the pair.

“Oh my god,” Jess says. She almost sounds gleeful. “Oh my god, he’s not just some random kid. He’s Mr. Stark’s kid.”

or: the interns at Stark Industries have some questions about Peter Parker. The answers aren’t quite what they expect.

I just love intern Peter mk? Let him be a kid genius and have fun!!! Fluffy and humorous, again with the irondad.

Captain, Oh My- Not My Captain! by uncouth_peasant - Peter swallowed hard before firing a web to swing into the fray. “Cap’s going after civilians. I’m out of time.”

Bruised and bloody men <3. Just Peter being a badass and getting beat to a pulp. Cool fighting, lots of Peter whump, and of course the Avengers being protective.

Good publicity by Bergen - Between Peter Parker barely speaking, and Spider-Man being the ultimate chatterbox, how was Tony ever supposed to figure out that they were one and the same person?

Tony Stark is secretly a softie for cute kids, especially when they're a genius and have a sense of humour to rival his own. Peter is a foster kid who ends up finding a home with Pepper and Tony, very sweet.

The Third Option by Uncertainty_Principle - When Ben is murdered Peter goes into foster care. It takes just a tiny taste of superpowers for Peter to decide he doesn’t want to put up with his horrible foster father anymore—the streets are infinitely more appealing. All he wants is to be Spider-Man anyway.

So he leaves, simple.

Simple, that is, until Iron Man needs Spider-Man’s help.

Heavy TW for this one, mind the tags. This is a popular fic and for good reason. A very mature and realistic portrayal of the foster care system and homelessness. The Peter angst is really great and I could barely put it down, that boy needs a hug so bad.

Now here's some hydra!Peter fics cuz they're my jam:

Peter is a precious chickpea by Bergen - They attack the HYDRA safe house shortly before sunrise.

The only people defending said safe house are Peter and Leo, and Leo slams his cell door open and starts spitting out orders, but then promptly gets clobbered over the head and keels sideways.

So that just leaves Peter. And he’s not even going to try to fight a whole team of Avengers. He looks up at Iron Man filling the doorway. “I surrender.”

He’s never been captured before and he’s not sure what to do. Escape, probably.

This entire series is PERFECT. I just love how adorable Peter is, and all the relationships Peter forms with the Avengers absolutely melt my heart. Peter's characterization in this is really unique and I wish there was more. The Bucky and Peter friendship is everythingggg. I love hydra!peter and bucky fics.

Indoctrination by phoenixon - The Avengers thought they were on a typical assignment: Infiltrate the Hydra base and find the weapon. What they didn't expect was the small boy raised by Hydra that they found instead. And they definitely didn't expect him to stay at Avengers Tower or how he somehow wormed his way into their lives. As for Peter, he just wants to be good and obey what the Hydra men told him so he doesn't get in trouble.

I just really love hydra Peter changing into a sweet and intelligent boy once he's rescued and safe, and how all the Avengers take up such heart-warming parental roles around him.

out there, living in the sun by Hailfire_73 - The Avengers rescue Peter from a Hydra base ran by his father, Richard Parker, except Peter doesn't really see it as a rescue, and has trouble settling into a new life away from Hydra and his father at the Avengers compound. OR - Peter learns how to be an actual teenager, live life, and put his abusive past behind him, and Tony learns how to be a father.

Hydra Peter but he's most definitely a traumatized and moody teenager. I really enjoyed Peter's character arc and the exploration of his trauma. It felt more realistic the way his journey isn't just a straight or clear path. He's more mature in this one and it was a really compelling read, balancing the angst with some humour and fluff. Loved the ending.

Tinker, Tailor, Spider by Bergen - Tony is roped into a mission to transport a teenager to safety. But when things go south, it soon becomes more and more puzzling who the teenager is and what ‘safety’ means for him.

I really enjoy that the author doesn't water Peter being hydra down. Yes he is a highly skilled assassin and a badass who's trauma pervades his every thought and decision. Made me fall in love with the Tony, Pepper, Morgan and Peter as a family dynamic. Super domestic while still highlighting Peter's troubled past.

#peter parker #spider man #ask #anon #fic rec #spiderman #marvel mcu #spider-man #peter parker angst #irondad and spiderson #tony stark #avengers #iron man #peter parker whump

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lowkeyrobin · 3 months

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hiii can i ask for hcs of quackity and his s/o being it couple? like other ccs are constantly bringing them up and hyping them bcs they're giving couple goals, or just fans getting them to trend on social media all the time idkk sorry if weird

oooo okay!! ; and dw this wasn't weird at all! it's fine lol ; thank you for requesting, hope you enjoy 🫶

QUACKITY ; it couple

summary ; you and quackity, through your shared fanbases and friends, have become the online it couple of the month

warnings ; language

word count ; 379

y/s/n = your ship name

masterlist

the hype and popularity spiked again once the qsmp had a random popularity spike after korea was introduced into the smp

then quackity started trending on tik tok and then you did once you posted a new video with him on your channel

getting the jake webber / tara yummy / johnnie guilbert treatment 💀💀 tik toks couple of the month

"Hey, Alex, I think we're trending again!"

"We are, cause you're so beautiful, Y/n/n."

"Shut your goofy ass up"

anyways, your friends loveeee sending you both edits and fanart

especially ones that make you look so hot together and shit

the tik tok edits go crazy

a solid hour of tubbos tubbathon is just reacting to y/s/n edits

they also love hyping you two up

from fit checks to cute couple moments, they're always hyping you up 💯💯

"ayeeee go! go! shake that ass! QUACKITY SHAKE THAT ASS" ; from roier and foolish

niki, foolish and tommy are probably your biggest hype men, in comments or on stream LMAO

god forbid one of you mentions having a favorite song or shared song you like /pos

the edits AGAIN lmao

you dressed as aesthetics of music you listened to for a video but never addressed it on stream so again, the edits LMAO

so many of you to emo/punk music and so many of him to rap/hip-hop (take this with a grain of salt ok...)

anyways, insta posts and stories together>>>

Twitter white boy of the month? more like Twitter it couple of the month. fuck them

dude streamer awards 😨😨😨 /pos

yall looked so good. head to toe, you fucking KILLED. IT.

the fanfic writers have been inspired. the people who paused their fics are all back solely for a streamer awards chap bc yall were being a little wink wonk the whole time /ns

you were just being adorable in general

nevermind the vids u posted of karaoke in the car afterwards

so many edits of you and alex making like thirst traps LMFAOOOO

anything for the fans 🙏🙏🙏

then you publicize a playlist titled "hot stuff w Alex 💯💯" and the world BREAKS.

don't care don't care

mostly like hot girl motivation + banger songs from the 2000s

like rihanna, jay-z, plus some newer kinda stuff like victoria monet and 21 savage LMAO

anyways that's all I got idk I'm sick and have 0 braincells

#lowkeyrobin #mcyt x reader #mcyt preferences #mcyt oneshot #mcyt x gn reader #quackity x reader #alex quackity x reader #quackity oneshot #quackityhq x reader #quackity #alex quackity

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lu-sn · 2 years

Text

i am here today to talk about HORRIBLE OVERSIGHT in the pete fandom we NEED to correct our ways and see the light

but it is ok i will Explain

ok do u see this

this is a pha khao ma (spelling up for debate). it's a waistcloth commonly worn in south and southeast asia — you may have heard of it as a lungi / longyi. it's a rectangular, light, soft piece of cloth that (mostly) men tie around their (mostly) waists to wear in hot humid climates because it's very comfy and breezy and dries fast.

some fun facts:

it's very common to wear right out of the bath / shower because the dampness stays on your skin for a while after so this helps air it out

underwear is ✨ optional ✨ (although really mostly only at home. the fear of being pantsed in public is universal, after all)

it's often worn at home, but people wear it out as well and it is especially common in rural communities. if you've got a bunch of old uncles sitting outside on a veranda in a small town, they're all maybe sitting around in pha khao mas

(let me follow this up with: while it is common in rural regions, people in rural areas all over thailand do also just wear shirts and shorts and pants 😂 it is merely an option, not a rule)

what you see is the casual version. there are much more formal versions, and fashionable versions, and they are apparently having a resurgence with the thailand youth rn

the plaid-like patterning is a specific design that has centuries of history in thailand! different regions produce styles of designs with vibrantly different colors and dyes, and they're very proud of it

there's many ways to tie it: in these pictures, pete has it tied so that it hangs down well past his knees, but you can hoist them up to mostly be around your upper legs (leaving the knees showing). this gives you a TON more mobility to, say, run around or climb trees or beat up people

here is a reference of real people wearing pha khao mas. as you can see they are chilling

and the most important fun fact of all:

post-canon pete wears it ALL. THE. TIME.

we know pete wears these in the privacy of his home! they're his comfy post-shower post-workout jammies! every time we see him with one he has a different one! HE HAS LIKE SIX MORE OF THESE TUCKED AWAY.

he probably wore them a lot around his yaai. and now, at home, vegas sees him in them CONSTANTLY.

you may be looking at me, and then looking at these photos, and then looking again at me, and going, lu, noooooooo, this ruins the post-canon pete being unbearably cute and stylish and hot agenda!!! to which i say

it ENHANCES IT. it's about the DICHOTOMY

vegas watches as pete walks out of the bathroom wearing one of these and nothing else, and they're riding real low on his hips, and vegas chokes out a "what the hell are you wearing" and pete leans against the doorframe and wiggles his eyebrows and puts on his thickest northern accent and says "you wanna fuck me so bad city boy" and he's RIGHT OKAY VEGAS HATES THEM AND VEGAS DOES WANT TO FUCK HIM SO BAD ANYWAYS

macau gives pete sooo much shit for it but then he watches pete kick ass in one during training one day and pete looks like some rural film movie star in his tank top and pha khao ma and his fists of fury and macau goes, huh, actually, phi looks fucking cool, can i have one

when they visit yaai pete basically forgoes pants and just wears these all the time and blends in with all the old grandpas who pat pete on the back and ask him for his opinions on politics and vegas is so fucking confused and totally in love do you UNDERSTAND

anyway. all of this to say, if you were to write fics where pete wears a pha khao ma and/or draw him in one it would be HIGHLY CANONICALLY ACCURATE. and i would love you. thank u for coming to my ted talk.

(and thanks to @minorfamilysupremacy for being the first victim of said ted talk)

#i am simply spreading the agenda #this is very important to me. we talk extensively about ass-out pete but NEVER ABOUT PHA KHAO MA PETE #it is a Look. it is CRITICAL TO HIS CHARACTER #also allows for uh #easy access #👀#if you know what i mean #i hope this was informative LOL and if i got anything wrong or you have more to add please let me know!!!!#kinnporsche #pete saengtham #vegaspete

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luffington · 16 days

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i need stoner!aokiji fic PLEASE

✧.* art credit!

➤ pairing: aokiji (kuzan) x afab!reader

➤ word count: 836

➤ warnings: drug use, established relationship, pre-timeskip aokiji, cockwarming, nipple play, oral (f receiving), temperature play (it's inevitable), voyeurism, brief mention of kizaru x reader

sorry i took forever to write this... i'm STARVED for aokiji content with where i am in the anime right now but he showed up for 5 seconds in a filler arc so now i'm ready to go :3

written in headcanon-ish bullet format!

NSFW under the break! minors dni thank uuu

Aokiji is laid-back and lazy all the time so it's hard to tell when he's stoned or not. Sometimes you'll come back to your shared place at Navy HQ to find the entire house reeking of weed, your boyfriend relaxing on the couch with his long legs spread wide and smoke pouring from his lips. He greets you with a casual "yo" and offers you his half-smoked blunt.

He is canonically a boobs man. You sit in his lap, cockwarming his massive dick, as he slips one of his big hands under your bra to fondle your right tit like a stress ball, squeezing and kneading at the soft skin.

He peers over your shoulder to skim the daily newspaper with hazy, unfocused eyes. Pretends to glance at the Navy papers he's supposed to look over (his ass is NOT reading!). Eventually, he gives up and pulls off your shirt and bra to really play with your tits.

Grabbing them hard enough for flesh to spill out between the cracks of his fingers, rolling them around and jiggling them. His chilly breath tickles your ear as his cold fingers tweak your nipples until they're stiff. He twists one harshly to hear you gasp, then chuckles and soothes it by rubbing his thumb gently over the areola.

When you inevitably get cotton mouth, he pushes two fingers between your lips and lets you swirl your tongue around them as if they're ice cubes. If it gets really bad, he'll actually create ice for you to suck on. Any part of him inside you turns him on, even if it's from his abilities.

Lazy man does drug that makes him lazier… he is horizontal the entire night. Good thing you love sitting on his face!

Aokiji’s strong hands grip your thighs and hold you flush against his face, drowning himself in your wet cunt. He slurps noisily at your juices, licking and kissing all over your vulva. Makes sure to wrap his plush lips around your clit, tonguing at the sensitive bud and sucking on it like his life depends on it.

Every sensation is intensified by the eternal iciness of his body. You cry out his name as he fucks you with his cold, slick tongue. You can’t help but grind on his face, losing yourself to pleasure and the haziness of marijuana. You almost feel bad for practically suffocating him until he groans, “Just like that, baby. Ride my face with that cute little pussy.”

He moans when you cum, slick gushing all over his lips and chin. Your chest heaves as you crawl off of him with shaky legs and plop down on the bed next to him. “Shit. Delicious as always, baby,” he drawls as he grabs a new blunt and lights it. “Alright, hop on my dick.”

You roll your eyes — he’s just so romantic. You’d already ridden him reverse cowgirl style after he got tired of cockwarming, but his dick was back at full hardness just from eating your pussy. You don’t think he even touched himself during it.

So you do as he asks, the weed making you especially horny, anyways. Wispy smoke pours from your parted lips as you lazily grind on his fat cock, stretching your insides deliciously and filling you up so good.

Slow and lazy sex is kinda his thing, unless he’s riled up from a particularly difficult assignment. (And even then, he has time to calm down on his lethargic bike ride home. You think it’s just an excuse to fuck you dumb.)

Aokiji sits up on his elbows to suck your nipples messily, spit running down the swell of your breast. Making obscene slurping noises that have your eyes rolling back into your head. When he gets close, he thumbs your clit in tight circles to make sure you cum together.

You moan and throw your head back as your third orgasm of the night washes over you. He lets out the deepest, sexiest moan as his cum fills you up to the brim.

He’s snoring two minutes later. You shuffle to get out of bed and grab a snack, but his strong arms wrap around your waist, spooning you from behind. Guess you’re stuck there!

Kizaru is his dealer (the true stoner king of the Marines) and somehow always gets the highest quality weed. He usually comes over for a smoke sesh with you and Aokiji when he gets a new strain he thinks you'll enjoy. He likes to watch the two of you fuck, sitting across the room watching attentively from behind his sunglasses and palming the fat bulge in his pants. Sometimes he asks to join in. It's up to you to decide -- Aokiji doesn't care either way, as long as one of your tight holes is wrapped around his cock.

(Akainu always screams at them when they show up to work high. Neither of them care. Threatens to snitch to Sengoku but Kizaru sold him an ounce last week so 🤷‍♀️)

#marijuana exists in the op universe bc i said so #request #mine #my fics #anon #aokiji x reader #aokiji smut #kuzan x reader #kuzan smut #aokiji #kuzan #one piece x reader #one piece smut #kizaru x reader

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sweet-evie · 1 year

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Baby Megumi & Best Sister Tsumiki Headcanons feat. Teen Dad!Gojo because I love this family unit, and my JJK brainrot is worsening the closer we get to 6th of July. 🫠

These are probably done before, but idgaf because we're about to see baby Megumi and high school Gojo again~ 🥹 Also, I'd rather do these instead of write fics because my Death Note X Code Geass crossover still needs my attention.

Megumi has a stuffed animal collection. 🐺 It started with one stuffed wolf that Satoru got him for his 1st birthday with Gojo, and Megumi pretended he didn't like them, but ummm... 8 years later, Megumi has 75 animal plushies. I like to think they're all small and cute.

If Shibuya and the other BS didn't happen, Megumi would have received another stuffed animal or two for his 16th birthday. Because tradition. 🥹

Just like Megumi has a collection of stuffed animals, Tsumiki has a collection of dolls. *cough cough* Barbies... It started with Licca-chan and eventually Satoru caught her eyeing Barbies in toy stores, so he bought her one. And then two. And then whole sets for Christmas or her birthday or whenever she showed Gojo her report card.

In addition to dolls, Tsumiki definitely had one of those big Barbie houses when she was 8.

Tsumiki ropes Megumi into playing dolls with her. He does it to make his sister happy. And they always include Megumi's stuffed animals.

Tsumiki had Barbie Posh Pets. (Totally not projecting... Maybe I am). I had those as a kid and the set includes a pregnant mama cat + 3 kittens. You can open the mama cat's tummy and take out a pink kitten. (That's kind of fucked up when I think about it now 🤦‍♀️). I imagine it's that sort of nightmare-inducing shit that Satoru notices and gets because he thinks it's funny. 🙃

The Barbie Posh Pet in question that Tsumiki definitely owns:

Anyway... Speaking of Barbie... Tsumiki saw her first Barbie movie because Satoru brought home a Barbie as the Princess and the Pauper DVD on one of their movie nights. He was just assuming she would like it...

She liked it, and they always had Barbie movies in the movie night roster ever since. Tsumiki loves them. Megumi thinks they're whatever but is amused, because Barbie movies have talking animals, and Satoru just loves to poke fun at the plot.

Megumi watches wildlife documentaries for fun. He's a National Geographic and Discovery Channel kid. He has a DVD collection that came with the encyclopedia set Satoru bought.

Megumi liked movies with animals. Are we surprised? He's seen all of the Dr. Dolittle movies.

Tsumiki cried watching Bambi. 🦌 Someone else definitely got teary-eyed while watching Bambi too. That 'someone' will also never admit it, even if Satoru totally caught that particular someone rubbing his eyes with his small fists during that scene.

Speaking of getting teary-eyed at watching cartoons. Satoru's damn lucky he can hide behind his blackout sunglasses, because he was totally sad and emotional when they finished watching The Fox and the Hound. 🦊🐶 You look at that Tod and Cooper friendship and tell me it doesn't remind you of SatoSugu a little bit.

The refrigerator in Megumi and Tsumiki's apartment is stocked with 80% sweets. It's Satoru's fault.

Satoru attends Megumi's and Tsumiki's parent-teacher meetings in elementary school, and he's popular with the PTA parents (especially the moms). Megumi hates it, Gojo revels in the attention. Some teachers invited him to be in the PTA, but ultimately, this special-grade sorcerer always has to decline. He's way too busy.

Elementary career days = Satoru telling the kids that he's a very powerful magician. 🎩🪄🐇 The kids believe him and the adults think he's joking. Well technically, he isn't.

Satoru is prone to bribing child tantrums with McDonalds. It doesn't always work.

Satoru, Megumi, and Tsumiki definitely went camping a couple of times. Sometimes Shoko tags along, but she never stays overnight.

Satoru lost Megumi at the mall. Tsumiki always found her little brother. He's honestly not that hard to find. He's either in a bookstore or a pet shop or a toy store that sells things Megumi likes.

Tsumiki is very forgiving of Satoru's tendency to lose Megumi in the mall.

Ice cream or parfaits for dinner are normal when you're living with Gojo. 🍨🍦

They've been to Disneyland. 🏰

Megumi likes zoos and aquariums.

Tsumiki is fond of handcrafting appreciation gifts for Satoru. 🎁Friendship bracelets, knitted socks and mittens she made in homeroom once that are way too small for him, multi-colored dreamcatchers (she made one for Megumi too of course), birdseed ornaments, lots of origami, very small bead bowls, flowers made of cupcake liners, etc.

Satoru has all of Tsumiki's DIY handicrafts tucked away in an Air Jordan shoebox. He also has a jar full of origami paper cranes that Tsumiki made when she was in her origami phase.

Satoru always took the kids to fun festivals whenever he could.

Satoru gave Megumi and Tsumiki the childhood they deserved -- gave them the childhood they were almost robbed of when Toji and Tsumiki's mom abandoned them, gave them the childhood Gojo never got to have.

All of that before Megumi lost Tsumiki and his life started spiraling for the worst. 😭

#Save&FreeMegumiPLEASE!

#jujutsu kaisen #headcanons #dad!gojo #fushigojo #megumi fushiguro #satoru gojo #gojo satoru #tsumiki fushiguro #fushigojo family #i think this post totally outs the fact that I'm an early 2000's kid #wbad shit posts #wbad blog

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misc-obeyme · 2 months

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i realize that the writers pretty much dropped the idea of lilith's ghost/spirit haunting the house of lamentation after season 1 (personally i like to think she's just at peace or something lol), but the idea of her haunting the seven of them + mc in later seasons is so cute to me

Yeah, I kinda feel like they dropped Lilith in general after season one, tbh. I'm sure they mention her briefly at some point after, but I can't remember for sure lol.

Anyway, I agree with you, I think ghost!Lilith haunting all of them is amazing. Especially if she's getting all involved and like trying to set up MC with whatever brother they're falling for. Like deliberately moving things and stuff just to get them to spend time together or something.

I also just like the idea of Lilith's ghost pestering Lucifer. Like when he's been in his office all night and she just starts knocking paperwork of his desk, letting him know he needs to go to bed.

Any time Belphie has a bad dream, she whispers happy thoughts to him so his dreams become good again.

Maybe she lingers around Satan a lot. She didn't get to know him when she was alive and she's curious. She loves him just as much as her other brothers, maybe even finds a special understanding of him. I like the headcanons that Satan looks like her or her opposite, like he's linked to her. Wouldn't it be interesting if he reminds her of herself so much that her ghost can't help but follow him around all the time? When he's at a bookstore, she makes a book she knows he'll love fall off the shelf on purpose. Cats can see her, so whenever she shows up and Satan's petting a cat that suddenly stares at nothing, Satan knows she's there and it's all, "Lilith, you're freaking out the cats again."

Hmmm yes I have many ideas... now I wanna write a full fic about it lol!

#I like Lilith #I should write about her I don't think I ever have #lil ghost Lilith #obey me #obey me nightbringer #obey me lilith #obey me lucifer #obey me belphegor #obey me satan #anon asks #misc answers

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ghostbite0 · 2 months

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Ngl I love the baby 21 trio especially baby obanai he's so cute. The au gives me brain rot especially thinking about your baby hashira fic w little mui. So that's where I'm getting my inspiration for this thought: but mitsuri taking baby obanai out to a restaurant she and him have been before and people think he's her son especially bc they've seen her with obanai so they're like that's clearly his son 😅

especially with Obanai’s eyes oh its so over for them

the staff of the restaurant swarms Mitsuri like oh my god FINALLY we thought you two would never get together. where have you been hiding this baby from us huh. and where is the father anyway. is he tired of paying for your meals. is he letting his wife and child starve.

and Mitsuri is fighting for her LIFE trying to come up with a story thats literally impossible to believe because, again, Obanai’s eyes are a dead give away

#askbites #not artbites #tiny 21 trio au #obamitsu #if obanais not in baby mode hes absolutely mortified #insert hysterical baby babbling and squeaking #and all the staff members pausing #then going AWWWWW and going right back to cooding and coddling him #mitsuri is so red and flustered she can hardly eat #obanai has to find a new restaurant to take her to

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lb-secret-shh · 1 month

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Been thinking about a Rosi fic where he's some type of god and the reader is sacrificed to him and his brother. Most of their sacrifices are of animals and never had a human been sacrificed. However despite this Doflamingo accepts them and upon returning home offers the reader to Rosi as a slave/servant (we know how Doffy views them 😒), seeing as he has none, only a child companion he saved from the brink of death. But he doesn't serve Rosi in the slightest. So Doffy, being as gracious as he is, leaves the reader in his care. Rosi's not sure what to do with them at first but they're very adamant about serving him, having pledged their faith to him before being a sacrifice. He's not used to people doting on him, besides his brother and parents though the former is rather backhanded. He does things for the most part himself. (Side note Doffy obviously has many servants, many of which also pledged themselves to him or were on the brink of death.) The reader basically follows him around like an imprinted duckling, much to little Law's teasing. In addition to not having servants, Rosi also doesn't have any wives or Concubines. Because of this he takes the brunt of Doffys snide comments and his parents pestering of his well being. News flash!! This is also a monster fucker fic because mmmm yeah. So Both Rosi and Doffy have horns and wings and sharp teeths. Rosi's being similar to ravens where they're iridescent black with undertones of purple and reds. And Doffy's being of course a soft pink with intermixed gradation of fuchsia. I'd assume Doffy is a god of wealth? Abundance? Idk. But he's dripping in gold and such. And I feel like Rosi would be a god of life/ rebirth? Love would be an easy one I suppose but other people love seems like he wouldn't feel it's his business. He's like spring, a light and warmth after winter, symbolically, so I figured that'd be a good God for him to be. But idk. Also I like the idea of him growing flowers when he's flustered okay? Its Cute.

But anyway, similar to Law, through time he becomes very close and subsequently protective of them. Oftentimes looming over them slightly and having his wings drape over his shoulders and enshroud them, a little similar to a penguin and its parent. He does this regularly with both of them. His protectiveness harbors a bit of possessiveness when he begins to have feelings towards the reader. It's cute, how extra clumsy he gets when they're around, how little clovers, sprinkled with flowers and clover daisies, grow under his feet when he's walking around thinking of them, how wide he smiles and fluffs his wings when he makes them laugh. However it becomes apparent, more so to those around them, than whenever they're around anyone who might be a romantic threat, or more so in his eyes, a possible mate, Rosinante is looming over them with a menacing aura. This happens partially with Doflamingo's companions, but especially with his brother himself. Doffy has many wives and concubines and has been seen eyeing the reader up occasionally. As well as Doffy loves to feel powerful, and sometimes that means taking things from his little brother to make him feel small. And just the thought of his brother touching them causes his mind to yearn to sink his teeth into their neck marking them as his own. To hold them close as he slides them down onto his thick long cock, eventually knotting in them and filling them with his seed, fucking it back into them, insuring it takes. To have them walk around with their belly round, carrying his children. That their his, all his, and no one could take them away. But he holds back from making any forward movement romantically with them, unsure if they feel the same. Though they would like nothing more than to be loved and filled by Rosinante.

I'm imagining a moment after they become intimate, and are now together, that Doffy makes a flirtatious comment toward them when Rosi isn't looming over them. However he's quickly by their side, squaring up against his brother, to everyone's surprise. There's something almost animalistic to the protective glint in Rosinante's eyes when he looks at his brother then, their wings puffed out and teeth bared. Doffy is the one to cave first, but not without showing he's the one in control. He defuses the tension a bit, claiming it was just a simple flirt but that he's got the message. Then slings an arm around Rosi's shoulder pulling him close and muttering to him something about how he's whipped now. (Can't have Doffy without snide demeaning comment 👍🏻✨).

I may write more thoughts for this after I eat, but we'll seeee~.

#one piece x reader #smut #one piece #donquixote rosinante x reader #donquixote rosinante #donquixote doflamingo #donquixote corazon #DonQuixote Rosinante x reader smut #one piece smut #nsft #18+ mdni #mdni

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yesimwriting · 2 months

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I love ur felix fics sm!! ur one of my fave writers on here<<333 and no I don’t think itd b crazy to write for Nate!! I’d love to see how u would write him!! (Maybe grumpy x sunshine hehe)

hi!! this is such a nice ask :)) i'm so happy you like my felix fics

omg i love ur train of thought for a nate fic!! i've been thinking about that kind of dynamic for them, but in a really niche way

anyways let's have some thoughts on nate jacobs and sunshine/kind of sheltered reader!!

----

thinking about the moment in which you find out nate jacobs is your assigned partner for a project that's worth 35% of your final grade. if this was happening to you a year ago, maybe even two or three months ago, you might have been nervous for an entirely different reason.

but you're not that version of yourself anymore. you go out to parties now; you wear shirts to school that your mom buys for you the same way she used to buy you impulse barbies, with a wink as the cashier scans them, making you promise that you won't show dad what you got at the store; you're friends with maddy and cassie...you're on your way to best friends with maddy and cassie.

so you can't dismiss the gossip and the stares nate gets in the halls as a standard part of high school, not the way you used to. you can't just see him across the hall at his locker and mentally acknowledge that you get why girls talk about him the way they do. you can't just get paired up with him for an extremely long assignment and think oh, at least he's cute.

every story maddy's ever mentioned during sleepovers, everything she's teared up about after one too many drinks hits you at full force when your teacher reads your name and then his off of her list.

would she see this as a betrayal? it's not like you picked him and asking for a new partner is out of the question, a fact your teacher made clear at the beginning of the year. but maddy's loyal...fiercely loyal, and she expects that kind of commitment to be symbiotic.

you don't move, can't move until jules leans towards you, so close her hair spills onto your desk. "no fucking way." she whispers it in a way that'd make you laugh if this was about someone else.

you're silent, eyes finally pulling away from a brightly colored poster explaining the roles of each branch of the US government. you turn your head enough to look at where nate sits, the back of the room with a few other football players.

he's already looking at you. and when nate realizes you're finally staring back, he has the audacity to let the corner of his mouth pull into a smug sort of smile you're sure another version of you would have considered swoon worthy.

you're all instructed to use the last few minutes of class time to talk to your new partners, to make some kind of preliminary plan. nate's standing up and you're still recovering from the whiplash.

helplessly, you look over at jules who's clearly trying to get to the other side of the room before nate can get to you. she mouths a "sorry" that feels genuine, and points at the girl she's supposed to work with in a way that feels like over kill. you roll your eyes, picking up your pen and pressing the pad of thumb against its side to have something to do.

nate's in front of you before you know it. he's so tall it's a little intimidating when he's right there, especially with you still sitting. "you're everywhere now." a reference to the fact that you were both at the same party last weekend. you can still hear maddy's slurred i can't believe he's fucking here, before she dragged you out to the house's patio.

he's probably seen you more places. you're around maddy pretty regularly these days and from what you've heard, you wouldn't put stalking above him. he's probably a stalker in the way guys from the news are stalkers, calm and untouchable until they feel like the girl they're watching is moving on. then they snap and some news anchor reports that there were warning signs for months beforehand.

you're partially aware of your potential exaggerations, but you can't bring yourself to care. you've never really interacted with nate, but you want to hate him as more than the monster you hear about when maddy feels like ranting. you want to viscerally hate him. it's such an instinctual tug that you can't pretend it's all about morality. you're craving innate repulsion the way an elementary school girl wants the other half of a magnetic necklace with the word "best" etched into cheap metal. it's kind of pathetic, but then again...

"not last year, or last semester--"

he's baiting you and you're completely aware and you still can't help yourself. "what? it's illegal to make new friends now?"

your tone surprises you more than the fact that you interrupted him. you've never been overly shy, but you've also never been much of a fighter on your own behalf. maybe this is like the parties and barbie-style-bought-shirts, just another facet of the improved you.

nate seems surprised too, only he wears it like there's something funny about it. "no, you've always been friendly."

he says it like there's a joke in there that'd make the football players a few rows back laugh. it digs at you more than it should. he gets under your skin in a way that bugs. maybe that means genuine hatred is on its way.

you look up at him, eyes as unimpressed as you can manage. "so," the word is definite, intentional. "the project..." you're glad for the excuse to turn your attention back to your notebook, "i don't know if you want to work out a time to--"

"i'm leaving in like five minutes." you're about to point out that class doesn't end for another when he explains, "football game." ugh. another thing you can decide to be annoyed about. your homework schedule is now going to revolve around high school football. "can i get your number?" the idea of existing in nate jacobs's phone feels so wrong you can't immediately reply. he picks up on your hesitation, because he tacks on the one phrase that could get you to do anything, "35% of our grade."

you nod once, expression as blank as you can manage as you write out your phone number on the corner of a page. You tear off the bottom corner and hand it to him. "don't save my number."

it's so rude, your jaw almost drops, "what?"

"you're going to see maddy before the project's over, right?"

the implication immediately makes your stomach knot. you're not--you can't not tell maddy. she won't like it, but she can't hold a random partnering against you. and--and it's worse if you don't tell her, because then it's like you're sneaking around with nate. and it's--it's all for school.

"i'm not going to lie to her for you." it's so ridiculous, you can't even hold eye contact. his silence adds a second loop to the knot in your stomach. "why would i lie?" your own genuineness sickens you, you're backtracking immediately. "and--and it's just a dumb school thing, so she probably won't care that much."

"and you're sure she's going to believe that?"

"yes," the word is firm because it has to be. "because that's what it is."

"she gets paranoid."

no, no--he's doing this to get into your head and cause problems. "if she's paranoid it's because you're crazy."

"fine." he shoves the scrap of paper into his pocket. "save my number, don't save my number. tell maddy, don't tell maddy."

you sigh. "why do you care?" they're broken up...even if maddy takes it the wrong way, the fall out will be a you problem.

"she's going to think i fucked you to hurt her." you hate this--the situation, the conversation, the fact that you can't completely dismiss his train of thought. "who's known maddy longer?"

you're about to try again, to defend your friendship with maddy and call him crazy again when the static of the intercom speakers interrupts you. all football players are being called out of class to leave for an away game. nate gives you one last look before turning towards the door.

when jules slips back into her seat and asks if you're okay with everything, you nod and attempt a joke about catching fuck boy germs, but it doesn't come out the way you want it to. she still laughs, so you do too, but that's not as natural as it should be, either.

----

lmk if you like this concept/want more of it!! i had fun writing this :))

#euphoria x reader #nate jacobs x reader #jacob elordi #jacob elordi x reader #nate jacobs

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noses-in-winter · 3 months

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Hey, She Has To Wake Up, Anyway (18+)(F sneeze, F/M, tickling into sneezing awake, foreplay)

These characters are Lor Sheldon, awkward nonbinary guy who is terminally horny, especially about noses and everything they can do! He has a hard time not feeling shy about that. He's extremely bisexual and gives off that energy, don't worry. I've written about him here and here. Feat. his total soulmate Piper (who I just wrote about here!) who is also terminally horny and is SO pumped about getting Lor to explore his kinks. They're both mid-30s in this which is when they're peak obsessed with each other.

In this fic, Lor wakes Piper up from a nap by making her sneeze (it's cool, they've talked about this, she's into it). Lot of detail about how he's touching her nostrils and stuff. Went kinda wild there.

please don't reblog to non-sneeze blogs, minors do not follow or interact THANKS

She had encouraged him more than enough times for Lor to believe that Piper meant it when she said she would be happy to…indulge him, with anything he wanted to do regarding her nose, and the fantasies he had associated with it. Christ, he had a lot of fantasies. Thank fuck he hadn’t divulged them all the last time they were stoned together. Even so, Lor still cringed at the fuzzy memory of spilling such an intimate detail of his life. Willingly! No gun to his temple or anything!

God, he told her so…so…so much about it. “It” being sneezing. How it made him feel…something. Especially about her…something. And sometimes his…something, if he was being honest, but that was not a something that Lawrence Sheldon was willing to face.

Her positive response to his confession was damn near intoxicating, though. Piper had been so…supportive. Happy, even. Cradling his face with one hand and using the other to lace her fingers with his.

She’d made a few changes since then that would seem uneventful to the man who found these actions completely vanilla. Lor didn’t have the courage to comment yet but, Jesus, did he notice. He noticed how she evidently skipped her bottle of daily antihistamines once or two mornings a week. Piper’s allergies didn’t knock her down the way Lor’s could unmedicated, but she still sneezed more often with heightened intensity. She also started to let her voice go a little high as she was gearing up for a sneeze in a way that made his dick so fucking hard--

Shit, shit, he needed to cool it. Piper still slept soundly with her head in his lap. The last thing he needed was for his needy cock to stir her.

They’d had a few conversations on the topic since then. None that lasted long, before Lor felt too shy to continue. Piper never rushed him. She simply made sure he always knew that she was 100% ready whenever he wanted to explore this fascination together.

“Surprise me, Sheldon. I’m up for anything. You’re in charge.”

Woah, fuck, why did that turn him on so much every time he remembered it?

Piper would answer favorably if he were able to ask her permission. No doubt in his mind about it. There would be zero hesitation. So it would be…okay, right? To just do it?

He swallowed, the light of the television casting shadows around the room. He had to get Piper’s head out of his lap, anyway, right? She never wanted to stay on the couch too long after falling asleep. They both always seemed to sleep better when they drifted off in each other’s arms in bed. They woke up apart, reliably, but that much-needed intimacy while fading into sleep was…also intoxicating. Still foreign to the both of them, certainly, but also welcoming and comfortable. Safe. Loving. Home.

Yeah. Yeah, she’d want him to make a move.

Lor took a deep breath before beginning.

He started by lightly setting an index finger on her pointed nose. Piper simply continued to breathe in and out steadily as she lay facing the television. With a little more pressure, her nose started to scrunch. Piper sniffed once, nestling her temple into his thigh. Fuck, she was cute.

Lor swallowed, watching to see if she was stirring awake. Weed typically turned her into a pretty deep sleeper, but he was too paranoid not to check. Once Lor was satisfied with the low rumble of her snore, he continued.

He rubbed the tip of her nose in small, slow circles. Fuck, okay, he was already sweaty just watching the way her nostrils moved with the teasing little pushes. He added a touch more pressure when Piper seemed unbothered. Hmm. Okay. Rubbing wasn’t all that effective, was it? Maybe…something else? External?

Lor glanced around at his surroundings before his eyes settled on the down blanket draped over Piper’s sleeping form. Perfect. He already saw the quill of a feather waiting to be pulled out of one slight snag in the fabric.

Lor pinched the quill and eased it out of the pillow. Ohhhkay, it was lengthy and perfectly fluffy. His stomach gave a flustered little flip at the sheer mental image of each delicate little tuft brushing against the equally delicate inner walls of Piper’s--

Hoooooo, fuck. Focus on the mission, Sheldon.

After tracing around Piper’s nostrils a few times, Lor watched carefully to gauge a reaction. Again, she mostly sniffled and scrunched her nose. It wasn’t until he took a deep breath and managed to ease the feather into her nose that Piper’s nostrils flared in response to the stroke of afterfeather. Oh. Not only did her nostrils flare, they goddamn quivered.

Piper sniffled sharply. Made a little noise in the back of her throat. Her hand moved. Lor pulled the feather out of her nose just before Piper could knuckle at her nostrils. He supposed the way the feather brushed the walls of her nose on the way out wasn’t helping things, judging by the little snag of her breath.

She grumbled, now half-asleep as she rubbed at her nose. It didn’t seem like Piper was aware of Lor’s intervention, but he held his breath, anyway.

Piper’s lashes fluttered, but she didn’t fully open her eyes in the light of the television. She stopped scrubbing so aggressively at her nose, but the back of her hand now lingered a few inches before her face. She sniffled with mounting congestion, nostrils now a quivering pink. She breathed in slow, sleepy pants.

He tried again. Piper reacted sooner this time, almost the exact moment that the tender feather stroked at her septum. One nostril scrunched with a snort as she murmured wordlessly. Piper pressed the back of her hand to the underside of her nose, scrubbing and scrubbing until Lor heard a truly shiver-worthy squelch. When she lowered her arm, there was a streak of dampness on the back of her hand. Lor fought an eager little squirm at the very vision.

Gauging how far he could go this time, Lor once more considered his options as Piper settled again. Even as she rested comfortably beneath the quilt, her nostrils still scrunched and spasmed with sniffly breaths.

….Huh.

He moved slowly, carefully, to give Piper’s nostrils a light pinch with his thumb and index finger. Lor’s stomach dropped pleasantly, as if he were on the best roller coaster of his life, when Piper’s nostrils fought to flare against his fingertips. He didn’t budge. She took in a truly nostril-quaking sniffle in response, eyebrows beginning to knit together.

Nostril-quaking. Jesus, he was going to have to incorporate that one into his internal Horny Lexicon.

Piper’s breath finally started to snag, now that her nostrils weren’t allowed to squirm out of her control. That tickle progressed rapidly before his eyes.

This was the greatest idea of his life.

Lor eased his fingers off of Piper’s reddened nostrils. They immediately widened, taking up as much space as they could. Though her nostrils had as much freedom to quiver as possible, the damage had been done. Lor watched for several beats, waiting until the perfect moment to give the underside of Piper’s nose one slooooow stroke with the feather.

That pushed her over the edge. She convulsed with a sneeze covered by nothing but the back of her hand at a distance. Piper’s head bounced slightly in Lor’s lap as her whole body shuddered, buckling into itself. “Hed’DTSCHH’ooh!!”

Lor’s stomach flipped at the vision of a fine mist bursting from her urged nose. Jesus, he could write an entire thesis on the way the sheer strength of that sneeze was increased by her nose’s initial resistance alone. Piper took in one gulping breath before sneezing again, completely uncovered this time, nostrils shuddering out another expulsion of mist.

Piper let out the littlest moan of relief after that second sneeze tumbled out of her. She fanned lazily beneath her nose, using the same hand that she had just sneezed against. Piper sniffled and finally opened her eyes. Her gaze was fixed on the television for several moments before she sneezed again, taunted by the glow of the screen. “Addh’DTSHH! Hh…hh! HuhHHD’schoo!”

“Bless you…” Lor said quietly, cheeks burning. He could lean over to the end table to grab the box of tissues, but the thought didn’t even occur to him. At the moment, he was nothing but thoroughly enchanted with the way Piper’s nose just…moved. When she sneezed. When she was gearing up for or recovering from a sneeze. When she was just relaxed enough with him to be so comfortable with letting her nose control her for a moment.

Piper didn’t say anything straight away. She started to ease up from her place on the couch, letting out one uncovered sneeze halfway through the process. F-Fuck, the mist of that sneeze in the light of the television was mesmerizing, wasn’t it?

Piper took in two rapid, gambling hitches as another sneeze crept up on her. Oh. Oh, she just wasn’t stopping. This time, Piper was able to yank the collar of her shirt over her nose. She kept herself steady with one arm on the couch, but was promptly knocked off-kilter when she sneezed damply into her shirt. Lor wrapped both arms around Piper’s torso, keeping her as steady as possible. He leaned back into the couch, bringing Piper with him.

“Bless you,” Lor breathed, blinking at Piper in a lovestruck gaze. Feelings of affection and attraction flooded him as Lor dipped his head to set a kiss in Piper’s hair. “A lot. You okay, babe?”

“Mmm..sdf! Fuck, sorry…” she exhaled, finally managing to sit up fully on the couch. Lor dutifully let her go. Piper started to blink slowly, adjusting her eyes to the light. “Didn’t mean to sneeze like a spray bottle there. Jesus, I really needed that, though. My nose f-feels---sdf, ugh, I dunno…itchy….”

“I-It’s okay,” he answered too quickly. Lor gulped and fumbled for the tissue box on the table. “I don’t mind. I mean, you know I don’t, but…y’know.”

Piper nodded, rubbing lazily beneath her nose. She seemed to be flaring her nostrils consciously, as if testing if there was another sneeze hidden anywhere. “Yeah, I do. I dunno, I dreamed something was…in my nose? And it tickled like a motherfuck, like a-...”

She trailed off. Lor followed Piper’s gaze until it reached the feather that sat in his lap. Lor was quiet for several seconds before a low chuckle rumbled in Piper’s chest. She gave him a knowing little smirk as she reached for him.

“Shel. You beautiful slut. Did you…?”

He felt like he was shrinking beneath her gaze. Lor gulped and glanced away, shame flooding every inch of him. “Um. I-I’m sorry. It was…”

“Hey, hey. Don’t be,” Piper hummed, reaching for him with ease. “That’s hot. Seriously. No idea you had it in you, Sheldon.” She snorted with laughter. This, apparently, stirred another tickle in her. Piper sniffled sharply, reaching to pinch at the freckled bridge of her nose. She massaged up and down. “Hoh, fuck. It’s right there.” Piper eased her free hand down to his thigh, delivering a squeeze to it. Her other hand continued to rub up and down the side of her nose with steady care.

“...C-Can I help you?” Lor asked on a nervous breath.

She gave him a slow, sexy bat of her eyelashes before her expression crumbled with a shaky hitch. The sneeze seemed to back off almost immediately, allowing Piper to scoot closer to him. Oh, fuck. Okay. Yeah. He could do this. Piper tilted her head back as she faced him, nostrils exposed perfectly to Lor. She moved closer to him on the couch, hand still in contact with his leg. He swallowed fiercely, enchanted with the way her nostrils squirmed and flared with each breath she took. Was she doing this on purpose? Or was this just naturally happening to her body? Both were incredibly sexy explanations.

Lor set one hand on the small of Piper’s back before easing the feather back into her nostril. This just sent her nostrils quivering further. Her chest started to rise and fall at a faster pace than a moment ago.

Lor didn’t stop. He continued to steadily twist it around in her right nostril. Her breath snagged as Piper gave her head a shallow nod. Okay. He could see it in her face. That tickled. He was--he was going to make her sneeze. And she was helping him do it. And she was okay with that.

Piper let her head loll lazily to one side. Lor followed her motions with his hand, feather still held tight between his fingers. He carefully stroked down the inner walls of her nose before Piper let out a stuffy little chuckle. “Th-That feels kinda good, Lor...”

“Y-Yeah?” Lor clarified, a smile starting to twitch at his lips. “Think I can…make it better?”

Piper could only nod, jaw slack and nostrils squirming with an impending sneeze. He continued to give the inner walls of her right nostril taunting little strokes with the feather. It wasn’t until he started to ease the feather out of her nostril did she react with one heady, desperate hitch. Lor quickly released the feather, allowing it to linger in her full, damp nose. He then watched Piper shudder out a…truly unprecedented sneezing fit.

The feather wasn’t completely expelled with her first sneeze. It was powerful, sure, and misted the front of Lor’s sweater, but the feather remained lodged in her overactive nose. In fact, the fourth sneeze of the fit was what finally expelled the feather from her nostril. It lay, damp and useless on Lor’s thigh.

Piper let out a quivered little breath, nose scrunching with a much-needed sniffle.

“Bless you,” Lor said on a weak exhale as Piper started to clean up the underside of her nose with a group of hastily grabbed tissues. She tossed them carelessly to the floor without a second thought once her nose was somewhat tidier.

Her nose, clearly, wasn’t quite finished with her yet. She sneezed again, disastrously, as soon as she threw the tissues aside. Piper gave one stuffy groan. She gazed at him through eyelashes heavy in maroon glitter from the day. “Hey, Sheldon,” she breathed, nostrils flaring with a lazy inhale. “You….sdf! You still wanna shower before bed?”

Lor didn’t even question her motivation for this seemingly unrelated question. He just nodded, eyes fixated on her nostrils.

“Good.” Without looking away from Lor, she drew the bottom of his sweater up until it lingered just before her nose. He shivered, both at the sudden chill on his abdomen as well as the vision of Piper’s nose hovering desperately above the fabric of his turtleneck. That he was wearing. Right now.

Again, Piper’s nostrils fluttered. Her chest rose and fell with taunting hitches. Fuck, she had to sneeze. She had to sneeze so badly, didn’t she? He wanted her more than anything.

Piper buckled into his sweater with a sneeze. Oh--and then another. She let out this lasting moan of a hitch that Lor knew was added dramatics. He didn’t mind. He liked that she was adding dramatics for him. That kinda made this even better, right? That she was so excited to tease him? Jesus, and tease she did.

She took in a slow, testing breath through her nose. When she didn’t immediately sneeze, Piper rutted her nose into his sweater, rubbing with quiet desperation. After several seconds of this, Piper groaned and dropped his sweater. Instead, she leaned forward to trail her nose along his jawline. Fuck, the tip of it was still damp.

“I still have to sneeze…” she murmured, starting to kiss at his neck. Almost instantly after, she leaned back with a gasping snag to her breath. “Hh! Hhh--!” He’d have to take this sweater off in a moment, right?

Folding the sleeve of the oversized sweater over his hand, Lor pressed it right beneath Piper’s nose. There was no hesitation on Piper’s part as she clamped his hand firmly over his. She shuddered out a muffled sneeze.

Yeah, he was hard. He was very, very hard.

A moment later, Piper left out three more rapid sneezes into the fabric. They all sounded absolutely desperate, even while being quieted by his sleeve. Lor’s breath was stuck in his lungs the entire time. The warmth of those productive sneezes met his palm through his sleeve almost immediately.

After one final sneeze that was particularly cushion-shaking--”AhHYD’SCHuhh!”--Piper exhaled through parted lips. Her knitted brows slowly began to relax, now only twitching slightly. “That’s better…” she murmured, using Lor’s covered hand to rub beneath her nose. Lor was expecting her to realize that his hand was, in fact, attached to this convenient fabric that she had turned into a tissue, but…Piper met his eyes, teary though hers were. She knew exactly how he would feel about this.

She started to move his hand, up and down against her nose. Lor watched in absolute awe as Piper’s jaw started to slacken again. Was it possible that he could feel her nostrils flaring from beneath his sleeve?

When it seemed like Piper was just about to sneeze, she let his hand go. Lor blinked as she leaned back from him, her activated nose continuing to scrunch and twitch. She reached for the damp bottom of his sweater, beginning to pull it up. Lor could think of nothing he wanted more in that moment than to comply. “C’mon…” Piper said with a damp sniffle. “L-Let m-hh!--me sneeze on more of you.”

“Fuck, I love you,” Lor exhaled with adoration in every syllable as he carefully removed his sweater. He tossed it aside without fanfare. There were barely a few beats before Piper leaned forward, nestling her nose against his bare shoulder. Her nostrils were damp and squirming and right. There.

“I love you, too,” Piper said quietly, sniffing congestedly along his collarbone.

Lor shuddered and gulped, placing his hands on her shoulders. Despite everything in his body screaming at him to stay just like this, he gently pushed Piper back so they could meet eyes.

“I--I want this,” he said on a shaky gasp. “I really, really want this. I just--I’d feel better if I could go, I-I dunno, shower, and get myself kinda ready for--for everything this is gonna lead to? I-I just prefer those kinds of…experiences to be, um. Clean. Me, clean. Y-You clean, too, actually. If that’s okay.”

Piper leaned back from him at Lor’s prompting. She sniffled, knuckling one nostril as she offered him a teary smile. “Me, clean, too, don’t worry. I could use a shower, now, anyway. Helps to…unstuffify me. Add that to your horny lexicon.”

She knew him so well!

Lor nodded. “You can go first, if you want.”

Piper snorted, her lips pulling upward into a smirk before the expression crumpled again. She sneezed down towards Lor’s now-bare chest, making him shiver at the feeling of the uncontained sneeze making direct contact with what felt like every inch of him.

She sniffled lazily and finally completed that smile, taking both of Lor’s hands. “I mean that I could use a shower with you.”

Oh. “Oh!” Lor gasped, a snaggly smile immediately spreading across his face. Lor started to stand, offering his hands to help Piper up as well. “Okay! Let’s--yeah! Let’s go!”

Piper laughed, starting to pull off her own T-shirt as she followed Lor. “Hold your horses, buckaroo. Take a breath. You’ll be able to rob me of my treasured virginity in a sec. Lemme at least blow my nose first…”

#sneeze fic #sneeze kink #sick fic #not sneeze for work

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heartchoi · 1 year

Text

little wishes ㅡ k.th

synopsis: you help out a random anonymous user on a message board woo their crush. all the while, your best friend becomes closer and closer to you.

pairing: best friend!taehyun x gn!reader

wc: 2.8k

includes: fluff, friends to lovers, they're both really oblivious, one curse word, mentions of passing away (it’s a joke)

a/n: a late taehyun birthday fic! i apologize in advance if the writing isn’t good… i haven’t written fluff fics like this since 2021, please forgive me 💔 hopefully you enjoy it, happy reading!

Anonymous [2:05 PM]

does anyone know how to confess to your crush ? we’ve been friends since first grade and im afraid i’ll ruin our friendship… any tips to win your best friend’s heart ??

↳ 444hugfairy [3:04 PM]

thats so cute! i have a friend just like that, i think if i were in their position i’d probably swoon if he gave me homemade goods ^_^ nothing like home cooking made with love to capture someone’s heart!

you immediately pressed send on the reply, a smile overtaking your features thinking about how cute this confession is going to be. to be honest, you wish you’d have your best friend-who-you-might-not-have-been-in-love-with-since-sophomore-year do things like these for you.

unfortunately, you don’t think taehyun feels the same, anyways. he’s too out of touch when it comes to affection, especially with you. i guess it sucks being in the friend-zone. (he’s never explicitly stated that, but you don’t need his confirmation to know.)

you’ve been pining after him for years at this point. it was during your sophomore year of high school when you suddenly realized that you were in love with him. you were in denial about it for weeks, but the pitter-patter of your heart every time he greeted you or pushed his hair back said otherwise. you were blasting some random love song on the radio when your brain finally got it; you were terribly in love with your best friend.

it was almost sickening to accept. theres no way he could ever like you back! kang taehyun? in love with someone like you? that might take a miracle for that to happen.

that’s what you tell yourself, anyways. you’re a little dramatic. but as you’re now in the middle of your third year of college and still painfully in love with him, a little exaggeration should be excused.

in fact, if asked, you could probably make a list of the reasons why you adore taehyun (sweet, handsome, hot as hell, intelligent, quick-witted, did i mention hot?) so much.

god, you love him to bits.

“…what are you doing here?” you ask, rubbing your eyes. taehyun shows bright and early at your doorstep, immediately pushing a tin of cookies into your hands. he’s taken care of his looks as well, suddenly showing up at your door with a leather jacket, black shirt thrown on as well while he wears a pair of dark jeans. he now has a chain necklace on him, god knows wherever he got that. taehyun clears his throat, looking away. a giggle escapes your lips, and you can’t help but think, he’s so cute.

“i didn’t make these for you, i, uh, made too much food yesterday. wanted to give them to you because you like cookies, right?” he gulps, attempting to make eye contact with you. “oh.” um. okay? that’s a little out of character for him, but the cookies he shoved into your arms certainly do look delicious. “you should try one.” he says, staring at you expectantly.

“okay!” you chirp, carefully picking out a cookie before taking a bite.

the cookie is delicious, for sure. it’s simple, chocolate chip. but as the chocolate spreads across your tongue and blends with the chewy dough, you can’t help but close your eyes at how good it is. “is it… is it good?” taehyun asks cautiously, arm rubbing the back of his neck. “it’s great, tyunnie! how’d you make it?” you ask, eyes shining with curiosity. you don’t remember taehyun being so good at baking. in fact, you feel honored that he decided he should give you the cookies in the first place.

taehyun mutters something under his breath, before he confidently states, “a magician doesn’t tell his secrets.”

“this is a cookie recipe though?”

Anonymous [9:34 AM]

thank you guys for helping me with my last post! i gave them some homemade baked treats, but i don’t think they got the hint… any other advice you guys could give me ? : (

↳ 444hugfairy [5:53 PM]

i see you took my advice anonymous… hmm… i think you should probably surprise them by bringing them out somewhere, like a date! you should be a little subtle about it though haha, if you outright say it’s a date you might be too obvious

↳ [re: 444hugfairy] Anonymous [6:02 PM]

i did, thank you so much ! i’ll try to do this as soon as i can, hopefully it’ll make it more clear to them ㅠㅠㅠ

ah, anonymous seems so nice, you think. this person must be so lucky to have someone like this in their life.

↳ [re: Anonymous] 444hugfairy [6:05 PM]

of course, anything to help! you go ~~

it’s a chilly thursday, snow crunching beneath your feet as you walk around the streets of seoul. you can barely feel your nose, occasionally scrunching it every once in a while to get the nerves in your nose unfrozen. the low temperatures were enough to make you want to never go outside again and just stay curled up in a ball all day in bed. even through all that, winter remains your favorite season. something about it just makes you feel so nostalgic and at peace. the snowy peaks catch your attention immediately, admiring how it looks until you’re snapped out of your daydream.

a call from taehyun rings through the air as you pick up, but you nearly lose your grip and drop your phone the second he speaks.

“let’s go out. where are you? i want to take you somewhere.”

is he insane? does he not know the effect he has on me? my god, kang taehyun. you’ll be the death of me.

“what’s the occasion? this is a little out of character, tyun.” he can’t see it, but you’re sure he can envision how you raise an eyebrow at his sudden proposal. “nothing. was just a little bored. can we meet at the park? i’ll pick you up from there.” shyly, you agree and immediately hang up the phone. he’s driving you crazy and he doesn’t even know it. this is awful for your health.

the snow has become heavier now. your once clean coat is now covered in a thin blanket of ice crystals, and you cant help but shiver as you wait.

it feels like eternity in the cold when you finally see taehyun drive up to you. "i'm sorry for being late, ___. are you cold?" he asks tenderly, hands cupping your cheeks.

suddenly, you no longer feel cold. you can't tell if its the blush radiating from your cheeks or his warm hands holding them while he inspects your face thoroughly. "your face is red." he comments. oh my god. he noticed. your face turns even redder, absolutely flushed with embarassment. "it's just a bit cold, that's all." somehow, you managed to stutter out a response. a look of concern flashes over his features, but disappears immediately when he fronts a grin. "shouldn't have kept someone waiting, hm? come on. let's go."

the car drive is very silent between the two of you. what just happened? the scenes replay in your head over and over again, and you can't help but feel sick to your stomach at just remembering it. the way his hands caressed your skin, all you want is for it to happen again. (bonus points if both of you touch lips. kdrama mentality is real. anyone can dream.) taehyun quietly turns on his radio, the sweet sounds of a mellow love song playing in the background. damn, even god wants you both to get together. there is absolutely no way this should be happening right now.

taehyun clears his throat when you both arrive at a red light. carefully, he cranes his neck to look at you, but you seem a little too invested looking out the window. he sighs, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. "so, ___. it's been a while since we hung out like this, huh?" his attempt at starting conversation is a bit lame. (you didn't realize this at the moment, but now that you look back at it, what was he thinking?)

"um, it's been pretty good."

"that's uh, that's good." he says, awkwardly.

silence envelops the two of you, time seeming slower than ever as you both wait for the red light to pass.

"do you still like to ice skate?" taehyun asks, the first to break the heavy silence.

"i haven't skated in years, taehyun." he chuckles, a smile now gracing his features. "it doesn't hurt to start over again, right?"

taehyun leads you inside the chilly ice-skating rink, already filled to the brim with couples and friends laughing and screaming as they slid over the ice. "come, ___! let's go!" he pulls at your sleeves excitedly, already preparing to get pairs of skates for the two of you. of course, you agree, albeit reluctantly, but not because you didn't want to skate. god, no, of course you wanted to. especially with taehyun.

it’s just that you feel as if your heart is about to pulse out of your body and run away, would this be considered a date? between… friends? theres no way you could confront him about this without pulling a “what are we?” moment. what even are you two now, anyways? it feels like you’re a couple in the talking stage.

you follow taehyun wherever absentmindedly, your body seating itself on a bench while you put on your skates. the laces feel unfamiliar in your fingers, twisting and turning it every direction. the rough rope slightly burns your skin, making you hiss out in frustration. “here, let me help you.” taehyun says softly, placing his hands over yours while he ties your laces. he chuckles a bit, hands never letting go of yours. “can’t believe you forgot to tie laces, ___. thought everyone knew that.” your face turns red for what seems like the umpteenth time that day. he just seems to know exactly how to fluster you. you pray to god for him to stop testing you like this.

“it’s okay. i’ll tie them for you whenever you want, sugar.”

…

sugar?

he just called you… sugar? kang taehyun just called you a pet name. oh my god. the world is ending. this is it. you’re about to pass away.

taehyun smiles up at you when he finishes tying the other skate. he acts as if he didn’t call you sugar just now, pulling your hands towards him to enter the rink. his fingers intertwine with yours, fitting perfectly in between the spaces like a puzzle.

the two of you end up skating on the ice just like that, hands intertwined, gliding across the ice. the silence between you both now feels more comfortable. you opt to savor the moment, relishing the warmth of his hand on yours. “this is nice.” and it really is, here you are, holding hands with the boy of your dreams while you ice skate together. if you had your phone on you right now you could take a picture of this moment and go pinterest viral. you’re not quite sure if that’s a thing. but it makes sense.

the boy next to you merely nods, lost in thought. “uh, ___, i-“ he starts nervously, heart palpitating through his chest. if he didn’t know any better, he’d think it’d be pressing against his ribcage right now. you hum questioningly, “what is it, tyun?”

“i think i’m- oh my god, are you okay?”

he’s immediately cut off by you falling on your butt, wincing in pain. i guess that’s one way to present yourself in front of your crush, you muse while you brush ice off your pants.

the ice-skating dilemma, as second-best-friend choi beomgyu dubs it, remains fresh in your mind the next day. you just cant fathom that the whole thing really happened.

“can you two just kiss? no one can stand it anymore.” beomgyu practically begs when you tell him about the whole thing. “even soobin is sick of it. and it’s soobin, for god’s sake! he’s practically a fool when it comes to love! he didn’t even notice that one girl hitting on him for weeks until she actually said it straight to his face!”

“i don’t think you needed to diss soobin like that,” you say quietly, as if the man in question was going to appear from the shadows at the mention of his name. “he’s not here. i’m allowed to say whatever i want about him. no one is stopping me.” beomgyu retorts, rolling his eyes. “but-“ you try to say, but he immediately shuts you down. “no buts! and we’re getting off track ㅡ PLEASE just date taehyun. everyone is getting sick of it." you play with the hem of your clothes nervously at the thought of having to confess to him. “but how are you so sure he likes me back? the chances feel like a solid one percent.”

beomgyu facepalms with a loud ‘smack,’ he’s sick of you at this point. it has him questioning why he’s friends with you instead of vice versa, as per usual. “he literally does not shut up about you. every day. it’s always ___ this, ___ that. he does not shut up.” his sudden confession has your eyes widening. “he talks about me?” you say, in disbelief. beomgyu sighs exasperatedly. it’s almost like it was obvious. “okay. originally i was gonna stay silent about it. but after that, i cannot do it anymore. do what you want with that information. go kiss taehyun.”

“i can’t believe it.”

“i can’t either. please get out of my living room now.”

Anonymous [3:13 PM]

thank you all for your help! i think i’m going to tell them now, i just can’t handle it anymore. i just need to get this off my chest :( thank you all for your help once again !! hopefully they accept !

you can’t bring yourself to reply to their mysterious person’s last post.

you’re laying in bed. beomgyu revealing that taehyun had talked about you had you all giddy: kicking your feet, giggling with a hand over your mouth, and rolling around on your bed. you couldn’t believe it.

perhaps you and this anonymous person will get their happy ending. just maybe.

it's been a few days since you've last heard from taehyun. ever since he carried you back from ice skating, he's been radio silent.

like, he's silent. he has not said or done a thing. a tiny guilt monster has been eating away at your stomach everytime you refresh taehyun's social media, only to find nothing new. you're starting to feel like a stalker (even though the victim has been friends with you for years).

beomgyu's been very assuring, encouraging your relationship and even going above and beyond to trend "#___HYUNREAL" on twitter, despite the fact the only people using the hashtag are him and soobin. they're great wingmen. you should applaud their efforts.

you're giggling to yourself over some meme they sent you when taehyun strolls up to you, seating himself right next to you. "hey." he says, smiling. his smile is almost cat-like, it makes him look so adorable. "hi, tyun!" you greet him, and you believe you might be head-over-heels in love.

taehyun's smile falters a little as he ponders his next words.

"___... i..." he begins, cautiously saying each syllable, afraid of what will come next. you cocked your head slightly, confused as to why he was suddenly so hesitant.

"what's wrong?" you ask. his demeanor has changed entirely, in a matter of seconds. it's become concerning. "i- i just need to tell you something." he responds, eyes wavering.

"oh. okay then, what is it?" you question sweetly, and that does it for him. he can't take it anymore.

"i'm in love with you," he confesses. "i've loved you for ages. i can't imagine myself being with someone other than you. it's driving me crazy, every sunset, every sunrise, every second, every minute, my mind thinks of you. and my heart just can't take it anymore, ___. even if you don't like me back, i still want to be friends, because i just can't see my life without you in it somehow."

when he finally finishes his ramble, his chest heaves, exasperated from blurting his inner thoughts and feelings so quickly. taehyun notices your shocked expression as soon as he recovers. his head hangs low, already accepting his wordless rejection. "i'm sorry. i shouldn't have put that on you so suddenly. but i really mean it, i-" his words are cut off when you press a kiss to his cheek, softly turning his head to give him a kiss on the lips as well.

"you think too much, silly. i love you too."

the poor boy turns into a blushing, mumbling mess with your hands cupping his face like that. certainly a rare sight for the kang taehyun.

"i thought you'd never feel the same."

"taehyun, love, i've had a crush on you since forever. how could i not have fallen for you?"

"...love?"

Anonymous [1:43 PM]

i have an s/o now !!! i'm so happy, ___ if you're out there i love you to the moon and back ♡

↳ 444hugfairy [1:58 PM]

i love you too ♡

#txt fluff #taehyun fluff #txt x reader #taehyun x reader #kang taehyun x reader #txt imagines #taehyun imagines #🍒.taehyun

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