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#i am. i am literally. i am literally on call with my partner right now
livwritesstuff · 3 days
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hi! so i am currently working my way through your steddie dads tag (and the fics on ao3--truly we have been blessed, i love slice of life) AND i saw this post about icks. it made me think about my best friend who is currently dating someone who has so many of her icks but she loves him so it doesn't matter. i was wondering if you've done something where steve and eddie explain their icks to each other?? i feel like there was a tiktok trend where partners did this but i can't remember lol. anyway, loving the series! thanks for sharing <3
lol i’ve seen that trend too - they’re very funny. i dont think hazel would try to film it, however i do think filming the initial vid leads to this (unfilmed) conversation.
Eddie: Name one thing about me that gives you the ick, Steve.
Eddie: I dare you.
Steve, without hesitation: Won’t go to therapy.
Eddie, affronted: Excuse me. I used to go. I’m cured now.
Steve: Cured of what?
Steve: Ed, you’ve had untreated ADHD for so long that I don’t even bother looking in the normal places when you lose shit.
Steve: I go straight for the fridge.
Steve: Yesterday I found your wallet in the trash.
Eddie: Okay, what about you and your whole won’t use new things schtick?!?
Eddie: You buy new shit and then literally never use it.
Eddie: Like those sneakers from a month ago that are still in the box.
Steve: Yeah, because then they won’t be new anymore.
Eddie: Oh my god, Steve, that’s so annoying.
Steve: Well, it's gotta be better than you buying new shit before the old shit needs to be replaced.
Eddie: That’s called being preemptive, Steve.
Steve: No it’s not, because you use the new shit right away and then we end up with double the amount of half-used stuff.
Eddie: I don’t do that!
Steve: Yes you do.
Steve: Pens.
Steve: You always buy new pens before the old ones run out of ink but instead of using up the old ones, you immediately open the new box. 
Steve: And now our house is filled with half-empty pens.
Steve: Drives me nuts.
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pepprs · 2 years
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literally the only reason i am not in as bad a mental health place as i was in in december is bc i’m done w school now and i never have to go back or deal with being a student again if i don’t want to and also bc i know there is a high likelihood that there are some big important helpful highly desired changes on my horizon in the next few months and years. but i am really not doing good right now
#purrs#scotus leaked draft + buffalo shooting + dallas shooting + uvalde shooting + monkeypox + covid cases rising + losing my last 3 weeks of#college and graduation + losing my freedom for who knows how long and moving back home + friends and family getting covid + pushing myself#to the limit finishing my capstone + watching my loved ones suffer with the situations in their own lives = is it ethical to bring children#into this world is it reasonable to think that i will one day live with autonomy again and find a romantic partner and have a pet and enjoy#my life and see all the people i love doing the same. all ive been able to do this week outside of finishing school my job application etc#is doomscroll about the shootings and covid and monkeypox when i really should be doomscrollimg through my fucking save tag that i curated#specifically to counteract these situations and give me reasons to find hope but i don’t have the strength or see the point bc im only gonn#lose the hope again. but i know there’s a point but i can’t get myself to see it and maybe it’s bc km just so exhausted but idk. and one of#the WORST parts of this is that if the job works out i am going to have to understand that people will look at me differently part of which#means that people — STUDENTS like i just was 2 days ago!!! — will look to me expecting that i have answers or at the very least hope and i#literally do not have hope right now and after national events this month i don’t know if i’ll ever feel hope again. so it’s like fuck i#wont be able to do my fucking job that i feel called to do and want to do more than anything lol. but i already won’t be able to do it bc t#the chances that i can go to [insert convferwrnce] when it involves being on a plane and navigating people who won’t wear masks are so low#and * already snarked about it to me yesterday which really hurt my feelings like i don’t think she was trying to be mean but it’s like yes#the fuck i can hide in the van forever i do NOT want to get covid. but i also do not want to miss [conference] and it’s just so stupid that#im going to have to keep making these choices because this nightmare country has decided covid doesn’t exist anymore. idk lol#i know everything in my life could be a lot worse and also that it is objectively WORLDS better than it was very recently bc i graduated an#im done now. but this month has sucked so unbelievably bad and June is also going to be hard and im just scared i will never be happy or#hopeful again or that every time i am something new will knock it down (which is a given living in the usa lol) and that it would be#unethical to try to do the BASIC bare minimum things i have always wanted to do in my life. lole#negative tw#ask to tag#abortion tw#shooting tw#mass shooting tw#monkeypox tw
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cecilianotthesaint · 16 days
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I had a long rambling post planned but basically
Reminder not to drive when you’re tired bc I just had to file my first ever insurance claim
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nimomo-mo · 1 month
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Vent
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saetoru · 9 months
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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。the dictionary definition of a rich boy
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synopsis. that rich guy who won’t stop asking you out is your partner for this project—send help
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contents. pre dating rich boy! gojo, college! au, implications of a zenin being pushy on the first date, satoru being distraught you went on a date lol, pre relationship shenanigans with the cutest loser boy !!
word count. 3.8k (it’s literally all just him being a handful)
notes. thank you niku my most cherished gojo stan for comming this (and giving me the most ridiculous tip) i adore you so much :,) mwah 💋
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he’s late—gojo is late. in fact, he’s very late, by forty-five minutes and thirty-two seconds to be exact. you aren’t really the count-by-the-second type of person, but somehow when it comes to that irritating, smug, too-talkative brat that you’re stuck with…well, you can’t help but be petty and use the seconds against him too.
he shows up close to an hour after your agreed time, waltzing in with a grin on his face—and, oh, you should kill him. he has the audacity to send you a wink when he walks over, coming up to your table and pushing his sunglasses down his nose just a bit to look you in the eyes over the lenses. 
what kind of person wears sunglasses indoors? surely only the kind that are nothing but trouble.
“aw, you’re here already,” gojo hums, “that excited to see me?”
“you’re late,” you spit.
“am i? i could have sworn—”
“now it’ll get dark by the time we get through what we planned for today,” you glare. he looks enthused, positively delighted by the statement—it’s almost as if you’ve offered him candy. 
“well, then i’ll just have to walk you to your apartment,” he offers smoothly. 
what a jackass. of course, just as expected, he’s still attempting to worm his way into your personal life (and likely your pants) in the most obnoxious of ways. over your dead body, however, will you ever allow him to know where you live, let alone accompany you on the way. you value your sanity, and having a conversation with gojo satoru longer than you absolutely have to seems like the most efficient way to fry every nerve and brain cell you have left.
“absolutely not,” you grit, “you can call me an uber. you pay.”
“alright,” he nods, “i’ll get an uber for you. but i’ll need your number to make sure you made it home safe. otherwise, what kind of partner would i be?”
typically, any normal pair of partners are meant to exchange numbers for a project—it would be the easiest form of communication, and more importantly, you can spam call if gojo decides not to carry his weight instead of just hoping and praying he checks his socials. but you can’t let him have your number—he’s not trustworthy enough for that. the last thing you need is him bombarding you with texts, or worse: calls, in the middle of work and class. so instead, you strictly inform him that any and all communication will occur via social media.
he pouts at that—it’s a cute pout, you have to admit. it’s slightly dangerous, too, because had you not had the self-control you do, you might have caved. but then he lights up at the prospect of you adding him back on socials. 
i’ll get your number one of these days, he says confidently. his confidence is as aggravating as the way he clicks his pen in the middle of class. he still chooses to sit right beside you despite all the free and very available seats the entirety of the lecture hall has. 
but no, he insists on sitting right next to you—and you? well, you have to hope you don’t get charged with homicide by the end of every class from the constant clicking he makes you endure. despite all that, gojo is surprisingly smart, which means your project might not be so doomed. 
he’s annoyingly smart, actually—he never takes notes, and just when you think the professor has him cornered by asking him a question when he’s seemingly dozing off, he answers immediately with the correct answer. 
you hate him.
“absolutely not happening,” you grumble, opening your laptop, “anyway i think we should start with—”
“well, i hate to inform you,” he sighs sadly as if it genuinely pains him to say this, “but i’ve actually deleted all my socials.”
“what?” your eye twitches.
“yeah,” he nods, “it’s a bit of a cleanse if you will. staring at your screen all day and finding value in fake posts is not good for mental health, you know? i’m trying to be more in tune with myself. it’s been a real self-journey.”
before the end of this project, you might either be a college dropout or an inmate at the county jail. you’re not sure, either is equally as possible.
“gojo satoru, i am sick of your games,” you spit, “we both know—”
“and i would hate not being in touch with my partner since it’s a crucial part of this project for us to work together,” he hums, something of a smug look plastered on his aggravatingly gorgeous face, “that thirty percent deduction for ineffective partner communication would be such a shame to get when we’re working so hard already on this, wouldn’t you agree?”
is he threatening you? for your number? with your grade? he is, you realize—and you clench your fist tightly around the phone in your hands as he eyes it with a knowing look on his face. he has you right where he wants you, whether you like it or not.
“you’re an asshole,” you spit.
“i’m a mental health advocate,” he gasps—he has the nerve to act offended, even as he’s so obviously enjoying working you up like this. you wish he’d drop dead immediately. maybe you could take his card from his wallet as his cold body lays lifeless on the table and order yourself a new laptop if he did—that would be ideal. 
“i saw you post on your story last night—”
“you didn’t watch it,” he pouts, “i posted a shirtless gym selfie just for you—wait a second, you pay attention to my story, huh?” he cuts himself off with a smirk, wiggling his eyebrows at you, “c’mon, you don’t have to force yourself to skip them. you know you wanna watch them.”
“no, i don’t,” you seethe, “it was just the first one at the top. stop being self-important—”
“anyway,” he drawls, eyeing your phone again. you want to splash your coffee in his face. “i’ll need your number,” he sniffs, “the crushing disappointment of you skipping my story made me realize i’m too focused on getting social media validation, so i’m taking a break. it’s the best thing for me to do in my headspace right now. hope you understand.”
“are you kidding me?” you stare at him. he grins before shaking his head.
“i would never joke about mental health,” he says seriously—it’s not as serious as your desire to slap him, however.
“fine,” you take a long, slow sip of your coffee to calm down, “give me your phone.”
“oh, you’re gonna set your own contact?” he brightens, immediately handing you his phone. it’s brand new—the newest model, in fact. it’s barely been a few days since it dropped. truthfully, you’re not even sure why you’re shocked—of course, he, of all people, would upgrade immediately. “how intimate,” he gushes, “it’s almost like we’re going on a date—”
“do not text me outside of project purposes,” you interrupt, thrusting the phone back into his hands, “got it?”
“you got it,” he grins triumphantly.
—————
like all things he does, gojo finds a roundabout way to keep his word without actually keeping it. it’s his secret talent, you think—finding loopholes through all the technicalities of things.
hey when ur free can u read over my portion? i just finished
btw r u going to that frat party this wknd? u don’t seem the party type haha but u should come 
i’ll introduce u to suguru! he’s my best friend he’s super nice u’ll like him
oh and when do u wanna meet this week? promise i’ll be on time this time ;)
you make sure to only respond to the questions regarding your project—just because he technically kept his word and started the conversation centered around the project before getting off topic doesn’t mean you have to indulge him. and the way he types is infuriatingly annoying—who shortens every possible word like that? only him, you think.
okay, maybe you’re just nitpicking now, but every time you see his name pop up on your screen, your mood sours tenfold. you decide to answer as dryly as possible.
k i’ll look. we meet same time as last.
the period at the end should add the perfect touch—you grin to yourself in pride at that one. instantly, bubbles pop up and indicate he’s typing again. your smile very quickly drops.
wow ur a rly dry texter aren’t u?
that’s ok i don’t judge
so how bout the party? 
i can be ur escort ;) 
it’ll be fun!
from his side of the screen, gojo watches as your contact shows notifications silenced at the bottom. he pouts to himself—no party, then, he thinks.
—————
gojo satoru, the guy who seemingly has everything he could ever want, likes you. 
frankly, he’s not really sure why—at first, he finds you mildly amusing, and he thinks it’d be fun to have a short fling with you perhaps. somewhere along the line, however, that changes. he watches you dedicatedly take notes in class, no matter how tired you seem from work the night before. he notices the way you chew on your bottom lip when you’re really focused—it’s actually very cute, he thinks. and he’s entertained by the way you always have some smart little retort waiting on your tongue. you’re not boring—and more than anything, you leave him a little humbled. it’s refreshing, and he kind of likes it, if he’s being completely honest.
he’s never liked anyone before—it’s a weird feeling. at best, he’s had a crush where he could appreciate that someone is generally pleasing to the eye and has a personality that might mesh well with his, but he’s never yearned for someone before. 
it just so happens to be his luck that the same person he wants more than anything in the entire world (for the first time ever, too) seems to hate his guts. it also happens to be that the same person he wants more than anything is currently getting asked out by some kid from the zenin family. right in front of him. and you’re saying yes. 
why on earth would you say yes to a zenin of all people? don’t you value yourself? 
gojo can admit that he’s had his fair share of heart robbing and tear inducing moments—he’s not exactly someone with the best track record for commitment, but at least he doesn’t use people for his own benefit. plus, he does, in fact, actually plan on committing to you. that zenin boy most certainly can’t be any good news if he’s anything like naoya, who gojo has met on a multitude of occasions, and knows very well is a scoundrel of a guy. 
“see you at nine?” he hears the zenin (what was his name again?) ask you. you nod, smiling sweetly. 
why don’t you smile sweetly at him like that? he buys you coffee every week. sure, he only gets to buy you the coffee because you have no choice but to meet him for the project, but he even offers to get you a slice of cake—you don’t ever accept, though, so he ends up eating both. but you do like coffee, very strong coffee that’s probably not sweet enough for his liking, but you enjoy the coffee he buys you nonetheless, and that has to count for something.
“sure, see you at nine,” you hum.
gojo watches in absolute shock (and abject horror) as you look down shyly. as soon as the zenin boy walks away, he stomps up to you.
“hey, what gives?” he asks petulantly, making your face paint on that irritated look that it always seems to adopt when he’s in the vicinity—how rude.
“what do you mean?” you ask tiredly, “i don’t speak toddler, so please use your words—”
“why’d you say yes to that zenin boy—”
“he has a name. it’s—”
“who cares what his name is? he’s an asshole! he won’t treat you right even if his mother’s life is on the line—”
“oh, and you would?” you raise an eyebrow, glaring at him. how is it his place to tell you who’d treat you right and who wouldn’t? how is it his place to even care?
“i would,” he gasps at the accusation, “you’d date a zenin but not me? how come?”
“because you’re annoying,” you counter like it’s obvious.
okay, now that is technically fair—gojo has heard his fair share of you’re annoying’s from people in his life. in fact, a good amount of them come from his own mother, but he’s also dashingly handsome, very good in bed, has soft hair, is tall and muscular, can buy you whatever you like, and can be smart and funny too if you really don’t care for those kinds of things. he’s the entire package and more. and more importantly, he’s not from the zenin family, and that automatically means you’ll actually be treated with an ounce of respect.
he looks at you incredulously, feelings a little hurt. “that’s not true! name one annoying thing i’ve done—”
“you laughed in the middle of me speaking in class.”
“that wasn’t at you! suguru showed me something funny on his phone—”
“and you took like twenty minutes in line ordering the most sweetest drink on the menu while i was running late—”
“you can’t use that against me, that’s not fair! i’m a paying customer, i should be able to get whatever i want. plus, it’s technically not my fault you were late.”
“you rubbed in the fact that you had a black card.”
“you mentioned it first!”
“you were late to our first meeting for the project.”
“okay, that was an honest mistake! people are allowed to make those, you know—”
“i don’t want to go out with you,” you say frustratedly, “and it’s really annoying when you act like a spoiled brat that can’t handle the word no and keep on insisting, okay? so leave me alone unless it’s to discuss our project—which weighs fifty-five percent of our grade, by the way, so don’t even think about getting lazy.”
he is not lazy, he wants to argue.
but before he can, you roll your eyes and take a step to walk around him, leaving him there to blink in shock. okay, he thinks with a huff, so you’re playing hard to get. that’s no matter, he’s good at the chase anyway. 
—————
the date doesn’t seem to have gone well. gojo can tell because your eyes are slightly red and puffy, and you’re extra grouchy today in class. your professor seems to have noticed, too, because instead of calling on you today, she calls on gojo extra as a rare show of mercy. 
gojo doesn’t mind—this class is surprisingly easy, and he’s bored half the time anyway. he might as well indulge the uptight professor in an ugly brown pencil skirt and answer her pretentious questions that aren’t as complex as she thinks they are. 
“so,” he finally breaks the silence, “how was your date—”
“if you’re looking for a chance to say i told you so, just get it over with, you jerk,” you grumble. he raises his eyebrows in surprise before both hands go up in surrender.
“i wasn’t,” he says genuinely, “you just…uh…you look upset, is all.”
you hesitate for a short second, gauging his sincerity for a moment before sighing and slumping on the desk, cheek resting on your arm. gojo resists the urge to poke the soft flesh—it’ll probably make you mad, and you’re already in a bad mood. 
“he was…pushy,” you say quietly, “i don’t really believe in taking things far on the first date. he didn’t like that.” instantly, his fists clench tightly, eyeing you from the side carefully, almost in concern. “nothing happened,” you wave off, “but he did make me feel disgusting,” you mutter.
“yeah, well, he is a zenin,” he points out, “they’re…well, my family’s known them for a while. my mom hates them.”
you look over at him in mild interest, raising an eyebrow. “don’t tell me there’s drama in the rich community,” you gasp, “i thought you all just came as one to sip fancy wine and laugh at the poor together.”
he snorts, throwing you a toothy grin that you think for a moment is kind of cute—but that doesn’t mean he’s any different from the rest of the rich folks. someone of gojo satoru’s caliber has no business mixing with someone of yours—it’s common knowledge. gojo has everything he wants, and if he doesn’t, it’s a simple matter of asking before it’s his. there’s simply no way you can mold into his world to be what he needs you to be, and when the time inevitably comes when he realizes you’re not what he wants, well…you’d like to save yourself the wounded pride and crushed soul while you can. 
“sometimes we have fancy appetizers too with the wine,” he jokes, “don’t forget those.”
“oh, my apologies,” you chuckle. gojo likes it when you laugh, he decides. it looks much better than when you’re glum—he thinks seeing your lips quirked in anything other than a smile is a waste of your perfect features, and he can’t have that.
“my mom married my old man in this stupid arranged marriage or something,” he explains casually, like it’s just the norm. you suppose it is—for the rich, at least. you wonder briefly if gojo will have a marriage planned for his future, too, and you wonder if he’s okay with that. surely it’ll be some wealthy and fancy socialite of a girl that fits his family’s standards. someone who’s not you—not that you care anyway, you wouldn’t marry him regardless. “my grandma wanted her to marry the zenin, but she said no. said he treated her like a piece of meat every time they met, so she settled for my dad instead. lucky her, 'cause now i’m her son,” he beams. 
settled—something about the way he says it makes you think his parents must not really care for each other as a husband and wife should. it makes you think briefly about what his childhood might’ve been like, not watching his parents happy and in love the way they should be. but still, the way gojo talks about his mother is fond, with a gentle smile on his face as he recalls the things she’s told him. you can’t help but smile a little too.
“i think that makes you the lucky one,” you snort, “you’d still be her son. just that you’d be a zenin.”
he crinkles his nose at the thought, dramatically shivering and making you giggle. “gross,” he gags.
“well, now you have her to thank,” you hum, “your dad would’ve been…whoever the zenin she was supposed to marry is.”
“yeah, well, trust me,” he mumbles, his smile dropping ever so slightly, “my old man’s not that big of an upgrade from a zenin. even my grandfather’s sick of him. imagine being such a douche, your own dad can’t stand you.”
you’re learning more about gojo in one sitting than you ever imagined (or planned) to learn—part of that is because he seems like he’s the type to overshare on the first meet; the other part…well, you have to be honest with yourself, it’s not exactly a bad pastime hearing him talk about himself. gojo is an odd piece of work, and you can’t say you hate learning about the little pieces that come together to make him so weird. 
okay, perhaps weird is a bit rude, you think—he’s…unique.
“oh, so you’re the dictionary definition of a rich boy, huh?” you hum, resting your cheek on your hand as you sit up and face him—gojo, for a quick moment, feels his heart stutter when you talk to him like that: with your undivided attention like he’s the only one in the room. 
“what makes you say that?”
“daddy issues is like…the first thing in the rich boy starter pack.”
he laughs at that, smooth and almost sweet—it’s a dangerous thing. it’s easy to attract you to him, like a bee to honey, with the way his lips curl like that, showing off his dimples. but the bees can easily turn into maggots—and you don’t want to find yourself as a dead carcass by the end of this.
“i don’t have daddy issues,” he says smoothly, “that old man should sleep with both eyes open. if anything, he has son issues.”
“you’re hands down the oddest person i have ever met,” you mumble.
“what was that? did you say hottest? yeah, i know—”
“shut up, jackass,” you scowl, shoving his shoulder when he leans closer with a bat of his lashes. he laughs, and so do you—and just for one, quick, momentary instance, gojo satoru is not so bad. dangerous and a bad choice maybe, a setup for a big mistake perhaps, something you should stay away from, in fact. 
but not so bad. 
“how about i show you what it’s like to go on a date with a gojo,” he grins, winking easily. he’s persistent—very persistent, you note. “you might like it a lot more than a zenin.”
“no, thank you,” you hold a hand up, “never going to happen.”
“never say never,” he hums, “you might eat your words.”
—————
“hey, satoru?”
“that’s not my name.”
“that actually is your name,” you say tiredly.
“hmph,” satoru rolls over, dramatically tugging the blankets over his body as he shuffles away from you, “not to you, it’s not.” 
you sigh, pursing your lips at his antics. “oh my god. okay—hey, toru?” you correct yourself. and just like that, he turns back around, grinning brightly as he inches closer until his head is resting on your chest.
“yes, baby?” he says sweetly, earning a roll of your eyes as your fingers weave into his hair. it’s soft—you don’t think you ever want to let go.
“it’s way better dating a gojo, by the way,” you murmur, “than a zenin.”
“oh yeah?” he grins smugly, arm draping over your body as he kisses your jaw, “i told you it would be, didn’t i?”
“i haven’t dated other rich families to compare, though,” you tease, “you might get replaced.”
“unlikely,” he chuckles, “no one,” there’s a kiss to your jaw, “will love you,” another kiss to your cheek, “like me.”
finally, there’s a slow, soft kiss to your lips—and when he kisses you like that, you have no choice but to believe him.
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satoru sooooo sends multiple texts back to back he just like me for real
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gay-dorito-dust · 2 months
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How they’d react to you not kissing/hugging him before leaving for a mission…
Dick acts as though you told him his ass isn’t that fat in his spandex suit-
He’s insulted.
You always, always remember to kiss his cheek before he leaves. His ‘good luck, be safe and kick ass’ cheek kiss!
It’s your thing as a couple! Do you want to see him cry because he fucking will! He’ll do it!
Dick will pout, huff and whine loud as possible in hopes that you’d realise your error and rectify it tenfold. He won’t tell you what’s wrong. No, he wants and expects you to figure it out for yourself, which doesn’t get him anywhere when you’re looking at him confused and lost as to what he was whining about; Literally.
His mood will be down for the entirety of the day and you’ll no doubt have texts from his teammates and family members asking what was wrong with Dick to look so down.
You’re just as confused as them seeing as how Dick didn’t disclose his innermost thoughts and feelings to you despite being his partner, so you were at a loss on how to help them with something even you weren’t privy to knowing…it’s probably one of your biggest issues as a couple but that’s for another time.
Dick will do that pathetic thing where he looks back at you expectantly the closer he gets towards the door, even going so far as to walk extremely slow when he was within reaching distance of the door handle as to buy you enough time to notice before he genuinely had to leave.
When you don’t however, Dick acts like a kicked puppy for the rest of the day and will proceed to exaggerate to anyone with ears about how his lover was restricting him of his affection.
On the other hand, If you do manage to remember to give him a good luck kiss, planting an extra one on his other cheek for extra, extra luck. Dick will have a permanent smile on his face that will not go the fuck away, even when he’s beating someone’s ass, the smile remains glued on his face as though with gorilla glue.
Seeing Dick brutally beat someone’s ass with a smile was horrifying for anyone to witness but it’s okay bc he’s happy that you remembered to kiss him good luck.
Jason will immediately call you out on your bullshit.
And by that I mean cross his arms over his chest and stare at you saying. ‘Well?’
And you’re like: ‘well what?’
And he’s like: ‘where’s my good luck kiss that you owe me? Roy is waiting on me and here I am waiting on my kiss, so give me my kiss chipmunk.’
Jason doesn’t piss about and gets to the meat of the issue at hand. He wants his good luck kisses and he wants them now and he will not leave the apartment until he gets them.
You’d raise a brow at his not so subtle neediness for your affection and decided to tease him. ‘I thought you didn’t need my good luck kisses remember? You’re a big boy who can fight with or without my good luck kisses.’
Jason groans, not expecting you to pull that out. ‘I said that one time. One time and I was being a dick back then too because all you wanted to do was show me that you cared about me and didn’t want me to get hurt.’
You smiled and got up from the couch and walked over to him, resting your hands on his biceps. ‘So now that you admit that you were a dick and the way that you acted was wrong…’ you trailed off as you pressed a kiss to his lips once, twice, three times because you loved to kiss Jason whenever possible and will try to plant as many kisses as you could.
‘Thanks chipmunk.’ Jason murmurs against your lips, feeling everything has gone back to being right again. ‘Now I better be off or Roy will tease me for lingering too long-‘
‘Too late.’ Roy said from the doorway and Jason closed his eyes and silently curse while you smiled and waved at Roy. ‘Hi Roy!’ You said. ‘Hi y/n, mind letting Jason come out to play?’ Roy joked. You played along by making a thoughtful face as Jason mutters under his breath; ‘are you being serious right now?’
You snapped your fingers. ‘As long as you make sure Jason doesn’t get into trouble then yes, he may go out and play.’
‘I hate you both.’ Jason groaned as he walked past you and playfully shoved Roy aside to leave the apartment. Roy then cupped his hands to his mouth and shouted after him. ‘Are you sure you don’t want your goodbye kisses?’ You and Roy laugh together upon hearing Jason cursing him out from a distance.
Damian acts indifferent about it.
He doesn’t need a good luck hug, hell! he doesn’t need luck at all!
He’s skilled enough to win any fight without relying on something silly as Luck. Luck was just probability under a different name and definition. (A/n: Don’t quote me on that.)
So when you forget to give him a hug before a mission, Damian doesn’t think anything of it but it will linger in his mind unnecessarily much to his annoyance.
Why was he so hung up on not getting something a silly as a hug? Or was he instead more upset over the fact that you, his closest friend/partner, completely forgot about it as though it wasn’t anything worth remembering.
Either way he was conflicted and didn’t know how to go about saying any of this to you without getting frustrated over his apparent loss for words. He was a man of action more then anything so when he finally catches up to you, he will stride towards you and stop just a couple of inches and silently stare at you with his resting bitch face.
‘Damian?’ You asked. ‘Are you okay?’
Damian doesn’t say anything because he couldn’t think of anything to say in that moment and instead stays silent as to save himself from further embarrassment.
‘Damian?’ You asked again, getting worried over his unusual silence. ‘I can’t help you if you don’t tell me-‘ before you could finish your sentence, Damian had lunged towards you and brought you into a very tight hug. You smile softly and gladly hugged Damian back, not saying a single word other then;
‘You don’t need me to say it but I’ll reaffirm it anyway, you’ll do great out there Dami. I know you will.’
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targaryenluvs · 4 months
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— BEST LIFE
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pairings: spencer reid x fem!bau!reader (past), harvey specter x fem!juniorpartner!reader (present)
summary: you’d once been apart of the bau team, but after a situation and a falling out with your boyfriend you moved on. what happens when the bau needs your help on a case, which your boyfriend harvey is also assisting on?
warnings: angsty, asshole harvey cause duh, jealousy (spencer) kisses, cute harvey
wordcount: 1.7k
a/n: this literally sprouted in my mind and i just needed to write it lmao, if you haven’t watched suits or criminal minds go right now‼️ they’re both my husbands 😋
when jessica had called you into her office, you’d been calm. apparently one of your cases, which had you and harvey working together, was now of fbi interest. your client was currently suing a company for faulty wiring in his home, which caused it to burn down. and it was apparently not the case at all, the home was suspected to be tied into a serial arsonist.
what you didn’t expect was for your client to be accused of being the arsonist.
“you’re sitting here,”
“uh-huh.”
“telling me,”
“yup.”
“that i’m supposed to believe that richard jeena, the fifty three year old little man, is a serial arsonist?”
you shut the file infront of you, meeting harvey’s eye, “sweetheart?” he uncrossed his legs, leaning forwards with a sweet smile, “yes?” you leaned forwards as well, “that, is exactly what i’m telling you.” harvey leaned back into his chair, disbelief riddling his face.
“and the fbi is flying here?” you nodded along, “fbi agents?” you nodded again, “probably field agents or whatever they’re called. they’ll sit in on the trial, survey the scenes, collect evidence and all.” the familiar clicking of donna’s heels brought a smile to your face, “profilers.”
your heart dropped with one word, “what’d you say?” donna made her way to the two of you, plopping herself down in the chair next to you, “it’s those fbi profilers. yknow, they look at the room and can tell you if he’s left or right handed, blonde, mommy issues and all. nice little packaged criminal profile in seconds.” you couldn’t help correcting her, having dealt with your fair share of assumptions in your years as a profiler.
“that’s not how it works,” harvey swiveled in his chair as donna looked your way, “oh?” harvey smirked as you sighed, “that’s not how it works, we don’t just walk into a room and have it speak to us. we survey the place, fresh eyes and open minds. we look for the things that everyone else seems to miss. we put ourselves in the minds of the criminals themselves, to get a better understanding of them, why they did it and all. you work your way back, start from the victim maybe, see where they’ve been, what they did in the last week, who they talk to. sometimes the killers in their personal circle but not always. every case is different, we try our best to provide an accurate, unbiased profile.”
“i want to take you on my desk, right now.” you rolled your eyes at your boyfriends words as donna stared intently, “we. you said ‘we’, as if you know what they do and their job. oh my god, you use to be one. that’s the job you had before coming here! you have a degree in criminal justice, and you said your last job you were at for what, seven years?”
“i graduated high school early, entered harvard at a young age, graduated, entered the fbi at the same time as a— friend. was also studying law, sat the exam in new york since it’s where i wanted to be. finished up at harvard, i was mid to late twenties when i left, wound up here and am now a junior partner, capiche?”
“could just say your age.” mike stood by the door with a wad of files in his hand, “i’d rather die, mike.” harvey laughed, “please don’t incentivise my lovely girlfriend to killing herself mike.”
“as nice as it is to see you all bonding, and trust me, it hits me right in the heart, jessica wants yourself and y/n in the conference room.” louis spoke from the door as you stood up, “first of all, trust with you is fickle, second, tell it to hit you in the face next time lou.” you smacked harvey’s arm as he held his arms up, “friendly fire, i’ll put it out later.” you shoved him by his back before smiling at louis, “i’m sorry about him, he’s not a big fan of the fbi.” louis nodded as he followed you, “duly noted.”
“she’s right, damn pigs.” harvey joked as you approached the conference room, “your highness,” you grinned, “you never treat me so nicely when we’re at home harvey.” he held his hand over his heart, “now don’t lie sweetheart, i’m as nice as mike.” the snort that left your lips had harvey doubling over, “oh please, nice as mike? you wish.”
your giggles were drained from your throat as you stared at half of your old team.
derek morgan, emily prentiss, penelope garcia & spencer reid. the last name, and face you’d still not looked at yet. thankfully, harvey noticed your tenseness, “y/n? sweetheart, you alright?” there it was, that word, sweetheart. spencer couldn’t help but wonder, was it just a word? you always use to call him it, before you dated, teasing of course.
“yeah, i’m fine harv.” he nodded, even if he didn’t believe you he could always ask later on. pulling out his and yours chairs, you sat next to one another. “harvey specter & y/n l/n?” emily questioned as you nodded, “the one and only. and then there’s y/n.” harvey leaned back in his chair, whilst derek stared him down.
what an ass. is what he wanted to say, it was also what he assumed emily was thinking. “emily.” she glanced over at you, surprised at you using her name, “it’s nice to see you all. how’ve you been?” and the bewildered expression was wiped clean off your face, no remnant left. you were a damn lawyer, if there was one thing you’d learned, it was to keep a straight face.
penelope smiled, “we’ve been good, y/n. but we miss you, back home. you’re a lawyer now huh?” you grinned, “the one and only.” harvey squeezed your hand, you squeezed back. “youngest junior partner, ever. my dream. just hoping to make it to senior partner soon, take the title of youngest out from under this guy. i’m happy here, i hope you are too. but down to business.”
and for the next few hours, you’d sat and listened. overlooking the case files, giving statements, reviewing security footage from surrounding houses. at some point mike ended up in the room, having met with your client and being harvey’s associate.
you’d had the pleasure of introducing spencer and mike, the two undeniably similar. you felt comfortable, even betting with penelope that if they touched the world would implode.
“and how much would he loose?”
“127,478.23.” mike and spencer rushed out as the rest of you fought to suppress your smiles, “well y/n, seems like we’ve got a genius-off.” derek laughed as the two men looked towards you, “don’t worry i’ll still love you mike.” mike scoffed at your words, “what makes you think i’d loose?”
“because i know you, and i know reid. trust me, you’d loose.”
reid. not spencer, spence, sweetheart. none of the above, you’d used his last name. as if he was nothing more than a colleague.
“okay, we’ve been here for far too long. and as much as i’d like to sit here and slowly rot, i’d rather do that at the restaurant i have booked for dinner with two lovely ladies. y/n and i have a trial date tomorrow, 8.00am. i think, we bring him along, show him what’s to happen if he doesn’t confess, than toast victory champagne when said confession rolls through. how’s that sound?” if derek’s grin was any indicator, besides a big fat yes?
spencer wanted to puke, ‘lovely ladies?’ multiple women? this man was insufferable. you gathered yourself and harvey’s files, a hand gestured towards you, the last file in said hand. “thanks reid.” he smiled, “no problem-o.” your eyebrows furrowed, “never change do you?” spencer didn’t have time to respond, his brain was too busy blowing a fuse as harvey opened the door for you. “ready for dinner lovely lady?” they all heard harvey ask as you nodded, the four watched as you walked out, his hand on your back as he pecked you on the lips.
“reid, you alright?” derek’s hand rested on his shoulder, “i’m fine, why wouldn’t i be fine? don’t we have places to be? hotch would want to know their on our side, that they reviewed all the information. they’ll help us get a confession out of him.” derek sighed, “because you just saw your ex, who you haven’t seen in years. the one you never got over, happily living in new york as comfortable as possible. a successful business woman and lawyer, happily in a relationship.”
spencer shook his head, “you don’t know that.” emily directed a sympathetic smile his way, “we sat with them for three hours. we watched them laugh, bounce off of eachother for theories, quite literally finish eachothers sentences. order food for eachother without asking, and get their meals right. they held hands when they could, he continued to call her sweetheart. and now they’re going out to dinner.”
spencer’s shoulder dropped, they were right. he’d come here excited at the possibility of seeing you again, talking to you. maybe even beginning again with you. instead, you’re apparently with some suited up asshole. he was annoyingly sweet when it came to you though.
as if the whole three hours weren’t a slap in the face, harvey’s voice rung out through the hallway, “there’s my lovely lady!” rachel, who they’d all met earlier on, was currently guiding a young girl to harvey’s arms. “daddy!” if hearts were boats, than his was sinking. he may have had a chance beforehand, but now?
“is mommy here?” your daughter was currently situated on harvey’s hip, “why don’t you hug her and find out?” your arms were out in the open as your daughter squealed before running to you, “d’you have a fun day with rach?” she nodded her head rapidly as yourself and harvey smiled, he stood behind you, chest to back. his hand rested on your waist as the other moved aside hair from her face, before moving hair from your own.
“now, my lovely ladies, it’s time for dinner.”
lovely ladies, for once, spencer had made a mistake. harvey was going out with multiple women, but not in the way he thought. his daughter and the mother of his child, you.
his words and actions meant nothing, they would mean nothing. you were happy, so happy. you had everything you wanted, a loving marriage and man, a gorgeous family. something spencer hadn’t given you. a man who knew you could hold your own. spencer knew that too, but he couldn’t help himself back then.
right now, you were living your best life.
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chuwenjie · 1 year
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Spider-Man: Across the Spiderverse comes out later today so I wanted to write a post reflecting on my journey and experience working on this movie. So many people have supported me through this and I am so thankful to each and every one of you!
Text version of this post under the cut:
Spiderman: Across the Spiderverse comes out tonight. It feels really weird to be typing that out right now. I worked on the movie as a visdev artist for the last 2.5 years, from 2020 to 2023. Long post incoming.
There are a lot of reasons why I'd consider this film to be one of the most ambitious animated films to ever be made. As artists, we were asked to push ourselves far beyond our comfort zones and do things that had never been done before in animation.
Every time we reached a point where most people would say "this must possibly be as creative and weird as it gets," our entire team of artists and animators would smash right through the ceiling. The driving direction for the visuals of the film was to push the limits of every single frame; to challenge audience expectations and make something truly original.
The best thing about this film was that there wasn't a single boring day working on this movie. The hardest thing about this film was also that there wasn't a single boring day working on this movie.
There were times while working on this where the imposter syndrome hit me hard. This was my first big movie, and what a hell of a first movie to get thrust into.
I came in only a few years out of school with absolutely no idea what the hell I was doing. I constantly feared that someone had made a mistake in bringing me onto this film, and I was going to let everyone down. There was a solid chunk of those 2.5 years where I wasn't sure if animation was the right path for me.
If there's anything I could tell my past self it would be this: there are so many people who love you and believe in you. There will be a time when you get to stand on the other side of it, look back on everything and see how far you came.
I'm still working on self-acceptance every day (it will be a lifelong struggle, I'm sure), but I'm glad I didn't give up on myself. I'm proud of myself and my contributions to this film, and I'm certain that this movie will continue to change and shape the animation landscape just as the first one did. That's truly a special feeling to have been a part of. I am so incredibly grateful to every single person who helped me along this journey.
Here come the thanks:
To the ENTIRE visdev & art crew- it's been an honor getting to work alongside each and every one of you. My jaw is literally still on the floor from seeing your incredible talent day after day.
I want to thank Tiffany and Felicia especially for being there for me through tough times- I admire and respect you both so much as artists, and even better than that, my life is greatly enriched for being able to call you my friends.
Thank you Patrick and Dean for taking chances on me, teaching me so much about art and what I'm capable of, and encouraging me along the way. To Aymeric, your art is one of the reasons I initially became interested in animation and you have been one of the kindest & most empathetic mentors I could ever have asked for.
I want to thank my wonderful parents for believing in me always and raising me into the person I am today: everything I do in life is to make you proud. To my brother Andrew who is perpetually awake at 3 AM when I need someone to talk to- thank you for always picking up the phone and making me laugh.
And finally to my partner Luke for making me grilled cheeses on all of the difficult days, for never getting sick of me even when all I would ever talk about was work, and for patiently and steadfastly loving me throughout this entire thing. I don't think I could've done it without you.
Starting tomorrow I will begin posting and sharing some of the art I made for this movie; I'm looking forward to sharing some of my personal favorites with you. I hope each and every one of you enjoys Spiderman: Across the Spiderverse when it hits theaters later today!
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dear spring, stay forever ; satoru gojo, suguru geto, shoko ieiri
synopsis; just another mellow breakfast shared between you and your partners. (you don’t think you’ll ever get tired of it.)
word count; 3.8k
contents; sashisu/reader (poly relationship!!), gn!reader, all of u are whipped, lots of petnames, literally just breakfast fluff, it ended up kinda sugucentric on accident (not my fault btw he just really loves making breakfast for u that’s on him), also ended up kinda sappy at the end (that’s on me), implied no curses au, they’re in their twenties but it isn’t specified, everyone is eepy and in love <33
a/n; a little breakfast fic bc i love mornings and i love them :33 (tagging my beloved sashisu soldiers @catchuuu @staryukis i am making breakfast for both of u btw ☕️🥞) pls listen to spring thief by yorushika it’s the most sashisu song ever
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as always, suguru is the first of you to make it into the kitchen.
he’s humming. it’s soft, a low lull of his voice, beckoning you closer like the call of a siren. sleeves rolled up to expose his forearms, fiddling with a pan, sizzling and simmering and breathing in the scent of pancakes; it pairs well with the espresso steam from the coffee pot to his right, the vase of hydrangeas by the windowsill.
it’s a sunny morning. the perfect setting for the start of your day, an atmosphere you can savour, like the gradual sipping of your soon-to-be morning cup of coffee. somewhere outside your vision comes a morning symphony, chirps and songs by cicadas and robins. splotches of sunlight splatter against the windows, the kitchen table, the floorboards — illuminating the man in front of the stove.
something in your chest constricts, when you look at him. a tenderness uprooted, a fondness watered and trimmed, a hungry plant only satiated at the sight of this; the back of his head, raven locks cascading down his broad shoulders in obsidian waves, hair put up into a lazy half-down bun. a little messy, a little too breathtaking for words. wearing a black turtleneck that hugs his waist just right.
you should be used to it, by now. suguru has always been an early bird, always the first to rouse from his slumber, only ever contended by shoko and her occasional bouts of sleep-deprivation. he’s always waiting for the three of you, just like this — in front of a sizzling pan, adjusting his glasses by the kitchen table, cooking or reading or simply reminiscing. content to stir in the peace and quiet of the morning hours, before the world wakes up. 
and he’s always taken to preparing breakfast for the four of you, always ready to greet you with a smile and a cup of freshly made cappuccino. he enjoys taking care of you, all three of you. always has.
(it wasn’t any different back when you were kids. suguru was always the first one in the dormitory’s kitchen, messing with the rusty french press or making a grossly bitter smoothie for himself. he was snarkier, more roundabout — but no less thoughtful. grumpy little shoko would always get the last bitter pumps of espresso, and sleepy little satoru would get a french toast if he asked nicely enough. and you? 
you got to see them, be with them. that alone would’ve been enough. the steaming cup of cappuccino left on the kitchen counter — a little too tailored to your taste to be a mere coincidence — was always nothing more than an added bonus.)
the soft humming falters, for no more than a beat or two. suguru shifts his weight from one foot to the other, and suddenly you can’t resist the temptation.
with clumsy steps, heavy feet weighed down by a sleepy sense of numbness, you stumble towards your target. it’s a familiar waltz, five steps to reach him, a warmth that spreads throughout your body in tandem with the curl of your arms around his waist. slumped against him, cheek squished against his upper back, you hold your breath.
silently, you wait. one, two, until you hear the familiar roll of his breath; a delighted little sigh that slips from his parted lips.
when suguru cranes his head to get a glimpse of you, his amber eyes are leaking adoration. a sense of liveliness, a joyous spark — like a firefly, the flicker of a rusty lighter. he looks well-rested, dark circles long faded, only the dimmest remnant of them still visible beneath his eyes. 
he holds your gaze, steady and kind, and then he’s leaning forward; eager to press his lips against your waiting forehead. glasses slipping ever so slightly down the bridge of his nose. the kiss is chaste, familiar. warm, warm, a faint heat that simmers in your chest, a tiny firework of a feeling. even the metal of his piercing feels warm on your skin. 
you melt into his spine, fingers searching for a pair of hands that find yours first — his thumb rubbing tender circles over your forearm. practiced, memorized, that familiar waltz of motions. he lingers against your skin, breathing in satoru’s favorite strawberry shampoo. you’ve been stealing it for weeks now. 
suguru’s lips curl up into something amused, still not quite willing to part from you. 
but then he does. turning towards the stove, reaching for the coffee pot with one hand, the other securing your own and lacing your fingers together. he gives them an affectionate squeeze, still resting on his lower stomach. a silent greeting that he always ends up voicing anyway.
”g’morning, love,” he croons, a little raspy, but sweet and nice. honeyed and deep, sending pleasant shivers down your spine. you hear him pour something into a cup. ”how did you sleep?”
all you can give him is a tired grunt, stretching your limbs out, blinking sluggishly to shoo away the drowsiness. suguru knows what to expect; he simply smiles, endeared, pouring steamed milk into your favorite cup. with a clink of his spoon against the ceramic, he adds the foam, stirring it carefully.
then he’s shifting his weight, angling his face towards yours, and pressing the rim of the cup against your lips — not before blowing on it gently. he watches as your eyelids flutter, waiting for the hum of contentment he’ll hear once you have your first sip. and he gets it. the rich aroma stirs you into a more awakened state, and a single taste of the creamy foam has you standing up a little straighter, humming in sleepy delight. suguru smiles, crow’s feet hidden behind his glasses. 
you accept the cup with a grateful squeeze of his palm, and he makes sure it’s steady in your hold before he faces forward again. another sip, and your throat feels a little less dry, your mind a lot less sluggish. so you answer his previous question. 
”… slept well,” another tiny sip. it’s hot, warming you up from the inside. ”i would’ve preferred waking up to you, though...”
a low chuckle bubbles up in your boyfriend’s throat. it makes you want to pout, but you smile instead. traitorous lips. 
he’s looking at you again, unable to help himself, reaching over to brush some loose strands of hair away from your face. ”aw, ’m sorry,” he coos, teasingly, sickeningly sweet. ”but then you wouldn’t have woken up to a fresh cup of coffee, hm?” 
now you really are pouting. he shifts, until you're standing chest to chest, and kisses it away. twice, for good measure. he must be in a good mood.
he usually is, at this time of year. when the air starts smelling of honeydew and snowdrops, and he’s awoken by barking dogs, luscious sunbeams splattered on soft bedsheets, the pitter patter of sudden spring rain. when the apricot trees outside your apartment complex begin to bloom; a flurry of sickly-white kisses pressed against your windows, sticking to the locks of your hair. it gives him an excuse to run his fingers through it. even when shoko whines for him to cut it out, and satoru purposefully shakes the branches to make the tiny white petals even harder to find. he must like having his hair ruffled like a misbehaving dog. 
they make suguru sigh and sigh, exasperated, but there’s always a smile waiting somewhere out of view. he’s not very good at hiding it.
(he likes the apricot trees. likes watching them change shape, colour, likes waiting for them to wither and blossom and turn into fruit.
once they’re ripe enough to pick, i’ll make marmalade for us.)
the morning waltz continues. while suguru continues to flip his pancakes, you sleepily decide to set the table. fondness erupts behind his eyelids at the gesture, small as it is. you stand on your tiptoes to reach the highest shelf, just to grab satoru’s favorite mug; one you all got him for his 19th birthday, a heartfelt message of world’s okayest boyfriend etched into the front. it was meant to make him pout and whine, but you’ve never seen him drink out of anything else at home.
you place the cup on the table with a soft thunk, along with plates and cutlery. suguru has already brought down a cup for shoko, seated on the kitchen counter next to him, soon to be filled with the same rich espresso he always drinks. he’s waiting until she joins you both, so it doesn’t end up going lukewarm. there’s nothing shoko hates more. you can practically hear that grumpy scoff, see her cute little frown.
your sleep schedules differ from day to day. suguru is always up early, satoru always sleeps in. shoko fluctuates between the two. you usually end up rousing from your slumber whenever the bed starts feeling a little too empty — a fact you doubt they’ll ever quit teasing you about.
that differs from day to day, too. sometimes you sleep with suguru, sometimes the other two, sometimes all three. you have your separate rooms, but always end up with your limbs intertwined one way or another; even if one of you comes home late or falls asleep on the couch watching tv. satoru can’t sleep without hugging someone, and suguru can’t fall asleep unless he knows you’re all sleeping well. shoko isn’t picky, but you know she feels safest when she’s linking elbows with you, or touching pinkies with suguru, or snoozing on top of satoru’s chest like a weighted blanket. as for you… 
you’ve gotten way too used to their touch to ever go without it. last night, you ended up in suguru’s room, tucked underneath his chin, while satoru snuck into shoko’s bed to convince her not to pull another all-nighter. you’re assuming it worked.
”mm, smells good. you makin’ pancakes?”
a bubbly, groggy voice spills into the air, just as a light breeze flits in through the window. soothing, refreshing. you turn your gaze towards its source.
and there they are. sleepy satoru, and grumpy shoko, the former clinging to the latter like an overgrown koala. satoru seems to be in high spirits, calling out to you with a smile, blue eyes glimmering like a sunny sky; but you can tell he’s tired by the way he’s stretching out his limbs, only wearing a pair of pyjama pants. and shoko is silent, blinking drowsily, twitching when his loud voice buzzes in her ear. she makes no move to push him away. 
suguru gazes at them with a smile, in tandem with you, nothing but fond. loving, in the way the amber of his eyes gleams and swirls with promises of something everlasting. he’s a little intense, honestly. but you wouldn’t have him any other way.
and, admittedly, your sleepy little partners are a sight for sore eyes. 
shoko meets your gaze, and finally decides to shake off the man with an arm over her shoulder. said man huffs, but makes no move to follow her when she stumbles into your arms. 
her limbs find their way around your midriff, her chin to the curve of your shoulder. her hair is loose, almost as long as suguru’s, messy and brushing against your cheek. your hand goes to smooth down her back, the fabric of her oversized shirt, soft and laced with the scent of laundry detergent. she yawns, right by your ear, lips jutted out into a small pout, and something in your chest returns. a hungry plant, drinking up her raspy voice, the glimpse you get of that mole beneath her eye. her stretch marks, when she pulls away and her shirt rides up enough to expose her thighs. little lightning bolts.
”morning,” you chirp. she presses a tiny kiss against your cheek, dangerously close to your lips; sometimes you think she does it just to tease you.
”hey, how come i didn’t get a morning kiss?”
shoko turns her head, finding satoru’s accusing stare. he’s pouting, tilting his head, already making his way over to suguru. but she only rolls her eyes.
”you’re such a baby.”
”you know you love me!”
suguru stifles a puff of laughter, leaning back against the kitchen counter, elbows resting on the marble. watching his partners with barely contained delight. satoru notices, grinning softly, throwing his arms around his boyfriend’s neck.
satoru’s kisses are always sloppy. you hear that drawn out mwah! even without looking at the pair, even without seeing his lips against suguru’s jaw. a phantom warmth sprouts on your skin. 
”good morning, handsome,” he purrs, low and rumbling through his chest, pressed flush against suguru’s — their heartbeats mingling together. soft skin against smooth fabric. there’s mischief in those aquamarine eyes, something teasing, and it makes suguru want to return the favour. 
”good morning, baby,” he presses his lips against satoru’s cheek. voice muffled against his soft skin, silky and deep. ”you kinda smell.”
a moment passes. the calm before the storm.
satoru blinks, barely registering shoko’s dry chuckle from behind him — and then furrows his eyebrows together like an irritated cat. a scandalized noise builds up at the base of his throat, and he glares at the man in front of him, frustration only growing when he notices that suguru isn’t returning the favour. his gaze is still fond, like an artist admiring a marble statue, drinking in his pouty boyfriend’s fluffy hair and droopy eyes and rosy lips. flattering, but the damage has been done.
”oh, i see how it is,” he withdraws his arms and takes a step back, crossing them with a hmph. ”bullying your sweet boyfriend first thing in the morning, huh? have you no shame?”
”sorry. you just look really bulliable today.”
another offended little noise. he turns on his heel, messy strands of hair swaying with the movement, glaring at shoko instead. ”unbelievable. and during women’s history month, too!”
”you aren’t a woman, satoru.”
”i could be.” 
you huff out a breathy laugh, taking a seat by the kitchen table while your lovers bicker. sipping from your cappuccino in silence, soaking up the mellow morning mood. until you feel satoru staring at you; eyes like marbles, big and bright, rich with mirth. his pout fades away, and he closes in on you with a smile. troubles forgotten. 
before you can greet him, he’s leaning down to leave a fat kiss on your forehead — messy, uncoordinated, but loving. a coo on the tip of his tongue. when he’s this close you can see his dimples, those tiny freckles that only come out in the light of the sun. 
you feel him smile against your skin, pulling back to speak. parting his pretty, glossy lips. ”and good morning to you, my dearest.”
he’s silly.
your lips bloom into a sweet grin, honeyed nectar on your teeth. he’s illuminated by the light streaming in through the window, a little disheveled, with his cute bedhead and bare chest exposed. a giggle slips from your lips, and your voice carries a melodic lilt, coming out as a soft croon. ”good morning, sunshine.”
satoru blinks. just once, before the telltale signs of his excitement start to show; his face brightening, breaking out into a cheshire grin, something sweet in the way his eyes crinkle. like folded origami, like messily cut fruit. citrusy and smooth.
before you can protest, those strong arms are reaching around your waist — hoisting you up into his arms with a coo of c’mere. he spins you around, just once or twice, and chuckles at the way you let out a sleepy yelp. even after stilling, he doesn’t put you down, only guiding your legs to wrap around his middle; his naked chest and muscles pressed flush against you. he’s warm, one large palm on your back and the other on your thigh. he touches you like it’s muscle memory, every ridge and dip, every part of you he’s already long mapped out. honestly, you don’t understand how he can get so excited this early in the morning.
but who are you to complain, when it means getting smothered like this? 
”oh, and i smell great, by the way,” he suddenly huffs, directed at the partners behind him. he’s quick to smile down at you, tilting his head and searching for approval. ”don’t i, baby?”
for a second, you’re tempted to join in on the teasing. some part of you wants to. unfortunately, it loses against the parts of you still mesmerized by the splotches of white inside his pretty eyes, those cute little freckles. so you nod.
”yeah,” you breathe. inhaling, taking him in, sunlight and strawberries and laundry detergent. ”you smell like spring.”
his smile continues to blossom, turning sweeter by the minute. brighter than the sun. he throws a victorious glance behind him, delighting in the simultaneous roll of their eyes — before finally putting you back down. he wastes no time in plopping down on the seat to your right, dragging your chair closer to his, until they’re pressed against each other. curling a leg around yours. so clingy in the morning. 
suguru and shoko are quick to join you. they blink slowly, sipping on their cups of espresso, a rich aroma spreading throughout the kitchen. it blends well with the plates of pancakes suguru scoots towards you, drizzled with the syrup satoru likes. he’s attentive, making sure you’re all comfortable, rising to his feet when shoko asks for a single cube of sugar. she’s started to mellow out a bit, no longer as grumpy, soothed by the bitter taste on her tongue. and satoru keeps your leg locked in place beneath the table.
it’s hard not to feel nostalgic, like this. when spring is blooming just outside your window, when all three of them are just the same as you remember. some things have changed, sure, but they’re still so unapologetically them. loud voices, rude eye-rolls, teasing comments and all.
they munch on their pancakes, sip on their coffee, and you chat about what to do when you all get home. what movie to watch, what food to order, what food to make because suguru doesn’t think you’ve been eating enough homemade meals lately. bickering and bantering. smiling.
(it feels like high school every day.)
shoko is the first to leave. she glances at the clock on the wall and stutters out a string of curse words, a mutter about being late. suguru plays dumb when she accuses him of not reminding her on purpose. she kisses you again, right under your jaw, and lets her clingy boyfriends give her one kiss each on the lips — despite her protests that they’ll mess up her lipstick. then she’s heading out.
”goodbye, doctor!” satoru calls, cheery even as your girlfriend rolls her pretty eyes.
”don’t call me that yet,” she snorts, adjusting her scarf. ”there’s still a good chance i’ll drop out. or cheat my way to a doctorate.”
so she says, but you all know her. you catch that glimmer of amusement in her eyes, something smug in the way she straightens her back. a little embarrassed, maybe. but the faith you have in her makes her glow.
then it’s satoru’s turn. he’s whinier, about it, ignoring the alarms on his phone on purpose. suguru has to bribe him, promising him kikufuku and take-out and an extra tight hug when he gets home. only then does he get up from his seat, untangling his leg with yours.
”do i have to?”
”yes, you do,” suguru tuts. ”the kids have an exam today. be responsible.”
another pout. but he listens, slipping on his sunglasses, putting on a coat and stealing a sip of your coffee that only makes him grimace. he has you both kiss the taste away, and you indulge him, because he’s silly and stupid and yours. 
and then it’s just you and suguru. he has a day off, and you don’t have to leave until later. the kitchen falls silent, back to a mellow morning rhythm, that quiet waltz of motions and sunshine. suguru pours you more coffee, gazing at you from across the table, and you thank him with a smile. he adjusts his glasses and flips through the morning newspaper; absently, you wonder if shoko and satoru would’ve teased him for it.
what the four of you have is an odd arrangement. but that’s what all of you are, anyway; a little odd. 
and as you sit there, serenaded by cicadas and morning birds, senses caressed by cappuccino foam and apricot blossoms and a hand holding yours over the table… you think to yourself that even if everything shattered around you — if the earth stopped spinning or the stars crashed through the roof of your apartment — you’d probably still keep on living. you’d do it, if only to continue chewing on these memories, these mornings, like savouring the faded flavour of an old piece of gum. over and over again, until you can’t tell where your teeth end and where the gum begins, so that you’ll always be able to taste it on your tongue. for the rest of your life.
it’s melodramatic, yes, but they are too. you’re sure suguru is pondering a sentiment even more dramatic, right now, even heavier with devotion. something so sappy you’d have to hide your face in your hands and beg him to stop talking. 
and, lo and behold, he suddenly speaks up. 
“are you happy?”
the question breaks you out of your silent stupor. you look up from your plate, his amber eyes already taking you in, drowning you in fondness. he’s smiling, and he’s looking at you like you’re spring personified. the silver of his lip piercing catches the light of the sun. a couple apricot petals are stuck in his hair, woven between his raven locks. 
you blink. inside your chest, something unfurls, twists and turns, grows and withers all at once. a whole garden of love, just for them.
you lean forward, elbows on the table, and brush through his bangs. petal caught between your fingertips. when you lean back, you’re smiling.
“yeah,” you answer, truthfully. inhaling the scent of spring. “i’m always happy when i’m with you.”
a breeze caresses your cheek, your hands, and the whole apartment smells of apricots. suguru seems pleased, returning to his cup of lukewarm coffee, a little clink of ceramic against porcelain that strikes you as distinctly heavenly.
soon, you’ll have to leave. you’ll have to manage without their jokes and banter and touches, without them, for a grueling number of hours, one tortuous lecture after another. but they’ll be waiting once you get back — and tomorrow, you’ll have breakfast again, just like this. forever and ever. you never want the coffee to run out, never want the apricot trees to wither. you want to stay greedy for a long time to come. 
and you’re sure they feel the same.
the sun lets her golden hair flow throughout the city, melting rivers and warming benches. she falls across shoko’s lecture hall, sneaks into satoru’s classroom, kisses her way up suguru’s neck. you let a sigh slip past your lips, and the sun breathes it in again. a vein of joy awoken, slumbering inside your veins; and you smile.
it’s springtime, now, a little warmer. 
(here’s to another year together.)
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nomazee · 28 days
Note
Um hello! Is the 1k event thingy still up?? If so I would like to request a classmate! Dr ratio x reader at 2:47 am?
it's actually sickening how much fun i had with this i was giggling at my own jokes while typing this out... this was so fun to write THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING!!!
my 1k event!
—°+..。゚。゚+.*.。.—
A blaring, aggravating, shrill sound wakes you up. Your hands go to cover your ears, protecting your sanity from the noise ringing somewhere from the tangle of sheets on your bed. Hands flailing around desperately to find the source of the piercing chimes, you writhe around in agony until you finally latch onto your phone. 
The brightness of the screen digs into your corneas as you lift up the device to see the caller ID of whoever had the guts to bother you on a school night. 
It comes to no surprise that the caller name reads “VERITAS FUCKING RATIO” in all caps with no contact photo. Your eye twitches and the grip on your phone tightens, just a hair away from leaving finger-shaped dents in the metal. 
Begrudgingly, you answer the call, tucking the phone next to your ear with nothing less than displeasure. “Veritas. Why are you calling me at—” you pull your phone back to check, “—almost three in the morning?” 
“The works cited page,” Veritas Fucking Ratio informs you matter-of-factly. There’s no hint of sleepiness in his voice, nothing that could possibly chip away at his good image, of course. “You did it in the wrong format. It’s supposed to be APA. This is a science project, not a literature project.” 
You might kill him. The project in question is to be presented tomorrow— today at ten in the morning. Ratio and you had been working on it for an entire two weeks, broken up into intermittent hour-long sessions because he was adamant that you split up the work instead of rushing to do it all the night before. Stupid self-righteous gorgeous beautiful academic genius-freak. Yeah, it definitely helped you in the long run, but he acted so sanctimonious about it that you refused to admit the benefits. 
“Veritas,” you imbue the syllables of his name with poison, as much as you can when you’re swaying as you sit up on your bed and fighting demons to not fall back asleep. “This is such an easily-fixed thing. Do you know what time it is right now? Why are you even awake? You know, I am supposed to get a full seven hours of sleep every night, and I was already cutting it short today, and you woke me up before I could even hit REM sleep. Do you know how upsetting this is? Fix the goddamn works cited yourself!” 
For once, Veritas is at a loss for words. The other end of the line is so quiet that you have to double check and make sure he hasn’t just hung up on you. Perspiration builds on your palms, thinking that this is it—this is the exact moment that you make Veritas-Fucking-Ratio snap and delete your name off the project credit slide, and you’re going to get a 0 because he will wipe off any evidence of your work from this plane of existence, and you will spend the rest of your measly life chasing after your MLA-turned-APA works cited page, too-little-too-late. 
“I’m awake because the— well.” He pauses, and his voice sounds so far away and unobtrusive that you’re almost worried. Your breath stills in the middle of your diaphragm. Waiting. “The works cited is one thing. But I wanted you to look at the slides, if you can.” 
If you can, he says, as if he’s giving you a choice, which he literally never has during this entire process. You had no role in choosing the topic, or the slide theme, or what days you worked on the project, or how often you worked on the project (because god forbid you procrastinate a little bit, right?!), but now, at almost three in the morning, Veritas is saying something along the lines of oh please my dearest project partner, I request that you open the Google Slides at once, but only if you would like to! I would never infringe on your free will at three in the morning, because I respect you as a partner. Or something like that. That was pretty much the gist of it. 
A raspy sigh escapes you, and you claw your busted laptop off the nightstand next to you, opening it up and squinting at the LED screen as you punch in your passcode. “You know, I have done a good job at going along with all of your whims, Veritas, the least you could do is fix the works cited for me. Seriously, how did you even miss that? You’re so detail-oriented, but you didn't even realize the format was wrong until tonight? Who even cares, seriously… it’s just a slideshow…” 
Your voice trails off as the slideshow presentation finally loads in. You see Veritas’ default profile picture blink in the upper right-hand corner, signaling that he’s viewing the slideshow with you. The slideshow which has apparently undergone a huge makeover. 
It’s—pleasant to look at. This entire time, you and Veritas had been editing a default, white-background black-serif-font-text slideshow. He refused to change it, telling you that it’s unprofessional to do anything too embellished, to which you fruitlessly said, Veritas, we will die early deaths because of the hole in the ozone layer, would you at least make it easier on my poor soul by letting me choose a pokemon-theme slide? Veritas had pretended like he couldn't hear you (in a very quiet library room, mind you), but the twitch in his brow gave him away. 
Now, though, the slides are decorated. It’s a really nice theme, complete with custom icons and graphic blobs of color—your favorite color, might you add. It’s—pretty. Dare you say, cute, but you think Veritas would vaporize your entire presentation if you called it cute. 
“Did you— this— did you pay for this slide theme?” 
“You— n— mn,” he trails off into an unintelligible mash of mumbling, and you hear a loud THUD that sounds awfully like the phone being thrown onto a mattress. Fabric shuffles around, before you hear Veritas’ voice again, clear and composed. “Sorry. I dropped my phone.” What a loser, and a liar, and an endearing freak. You really wish he video called you because you need to see his totally-very-ugly face. 
“I thought this was unprofessional, Veritas,” you say teasingly, a smile lining your words as you try not to giggle right into the phone. “What made you have a change of heart?” 
“Nothing,” the typical firmness of his voice has returned, much to your dismay. “The works cited is still wrong. You have to fix it.” 
“Oh, whatever you say, honored Ratio,” you open up your trusty citation-generator, ready for a long fifteen minutes of copying and pasting information. “Hey, you must be free after class tomorrow, right? Since the project is pretty much over, right?” 
“Yes,” Veritas answers after a moment of hesitation, only a hint of doubt in his voice. 
“That’s great. Keep your schedule clear, then.” 
(You fix the works cited slide, wish Veritas sweet dreams, and then wake up in the morning to completely ace your presentation. The minute the period ends, you drag him out of the classroom and into a coffee shop, paying for some five dollar pastry and joking that it’s payback for the cute slideshow theme that he definitely paid five dollars for. Veritas is an awful liar, and you tell him that, and he can’t even find the strength to deny it.)
—°+..。*゚。*゚+.*.。.—
gen taglist: @tragedy-of-commons @lasiancunin
fill out my event taglist (pinned) or general taglist (navi) to be tagged in upcoming works!
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junnieverse · 7 months
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DRUNK - DAZED ➳ ENHYPEN
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➙ enhypen's reaction to you not recognising them whilst you were drunk
pairing: enhypen x gn!reader
genre: crack, very little fluff
request: " so yk the series u did with the drunk enha not recognizing their partner… u should write about the roles being reversed and their partner is the one that can’t recognize them "
warnings: lowercase intended, mentions of alcohol/drinking, not proofread, jake swears once in his drabble
a/n: thank you for the request anon, here it is! this was a cool idea too so I hope you liked it :)
a/n (2): I also wasn't sure on whether or not to add riki into this one as well but I decided to go for it but riki is not drinking and the reader is legal to drink in the drabble
a/n (3): you can also find my post on enha not recognising their s/o whilst drunk [ here ]
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🖇️ — 양정원 ; JUNGWON !
you had been out celebrating with some friends and jungwon had been their too to make sure you didn't go overboard
what he wasn't expecting was for you to claim to not know who he was when it was time to leave
he wasn't suprised by your drunken behavior but he was taken aback when you asked him to prove he actually was your boyfriend
"If you're really my boyfriend, tell me something only he would know about me?" you interrogate him raising an eyebrow
"You once farted in front of my friends and blamed my dog." he says shaking his head
immediately covering his mouth you shush him feeling embarrassed at the revelation
"I can't believe Jungwon told you, he swore never to say anything." you whisper pouting as he gently removed your hands
"That's because I am Jungwon, now let's get you sobered up."
despite having already known this little secret you still couldn't seem to look Jungwon in the eye until you ran away into your room to go sleep to avoid him
🖇️ — 이희승 ; HEESEUNG !
you had a night out with some friends and your boyfriend was always the go-to person to call when you got hammered
tonight was unexpectedly different when you saw riki and pushed him away
even your friends would try telling you to sober up so heeseung could take you home but you argued that you didn't know him
"I DON'T KNOW THAT MAN! DON'T FEED ME TO THE WOLVES YOU PUNKS!" you yell out to your friends
he was shocked to say the least because you've never acted this way around him
soon your boyfriend had to step in and he carried you over his shoulder whilst you hit his back
"LET GO OF ME YOU CREEP BEFORE I CALL THE POLICE BECAUSE IF I CALL MY BOYFRIEND HE WON'T GO EASY ON YOU!" you fight as your words came out slurred
despite your pretty weak defence, he oddly found this entertaining
he makes sure to help you sober up and feeds you until you fall asleep
🖇️ — 박종성 ; JAY !
you were a mess
jay got a call from your friends that you were crying saying you missed him and so he came over to get you
turns out you were just incredibly drunk and rambling over how perfect your boyfriend was and you 'didn't deserve him'
"I'm right here darling, wanna leave?" jay says rubbing your back as you look at him dazed
"Who are you sir?" you ask sniffling softly as you wipe a tear
he was left too stunned to speak
thought it was just you messing around with him but after he laughed and he say how stoic you were, he realised you were serious
"What, I'm literally your boyfriend, it's me Jay." he says pointing to himself as you shake your head
"No, my boyfriend is way cuter, no offense sir." you tell him taking another sip of your drink
he wasn't sure whether to take your words as an offense or a compliment but he still couldn't believe it
🖇️ — 심재윤 ; JAKE !
jake got a little pouty seeing as you couldn't recognise him
all he wanted was your affection but you wouldn't even touch him, CUDDLE THE MAN BEFORE HE DIES STARVED OF TOUCH
to make matters worse was you tried everything in your power to avoid him thinking you were in danger
poor guy had to chase after you trying to calm you down but to no avail
you'd tried hiding, screaming and even running away but he always came back
"Baby please stop, it's me, Jake. Layla's dad." he tells you making you go into shock
"HOW DO YOU KNOW MY BOYFRIEND'S DOG YOU STALKER?!" you yell at him as you hiccup slightly still drunk
you still didn't believe his words so you decided to call jake for yourself and somehow the phone in the stranger's pocket rang
"YOU ATE JAKE!!" you accuse him pointing at him in horror
"Oh for fucks sakes." he says done with your drunk self
🖇️ — 박성훈 ; SUNGHOON !
he was offended to say the least
"But (y/n) it's me, you're handsome and funny boyfriend. Snap out of it." he says shaking you lightly with his hands on your shoulders
you on the other hand was ready to fight because you couldn't believe this 'stranger' just laid his hands on you
"One more word buddy and I'll throw my shoe at you!" you warn your boyfriend slapping his hands off as you turn to leave
sunghoon was very adamant to get you to recognise him because he was your designated ride home anyway
"Sweetheart it's me, I'm Sunghoon!" he says again getting aggravated
true to your prior warning, you indeed took off your shoe and threw it at him
hoon woke up the next morning with a huge bump on his forehead and you couldn't remember a thing
"Where did you get that bump from baby?" you ask handing him an ice packing having no idea
he still wonders how someone so incredibly drunk had such great aim
🖇️ — 김선우 ; SUNOO !
"CAUSE IIIIII KNOW YA LIKE BOY!" you sing (more like scream) at the top of your lungs as sunoo directed you into the house
you had a few glasses of wine earlier on after working and sunoo was left in your care having picked you up after a karaoke night with friends
"Thank you for the ride mister taxi man." you tell your boyfriend getting out of the car
he was left very confused because he'd thought it was a joke at first when you got into the backseat and told him your address but he didn't pay much mind to it
"Sir why are you coming into my house." you ask trying to stand up straight to only lose your balance but sunoo was quick to catch you
"I live with you silly, I'm your boyfriend." he explains realising you didn't recognise him
"I already have one, his name is Sunoo, see." you tell him showing him your lockscreen of you and sunoo together
"Okay how about you go to sleep and your boyfriend will be right next to you once you wake up." he tells you gently brushing your hair
true to his words, you woke up to your sweet boyfriend right next to you still not realising he was with you the entire night
🖇️ — 西村 力 ; NI-KI !
as hurt as he was seeing you fail to recognise him, part of him also found it adorable
he knew he should've tried to help you sober up but watching you was like watching a patient who'd just gotten their wisdom tooth out and the gas had taken over
"Did you know I'm actually a secret spy, it's a secret but I'm telling you even though I've never met you before." you whisper looking around as if not wanting anyone to hear you
he would simply play along because he found this extremely entertaining
and this would be great content as birthday exposure
"And I have this super tall boyfriend, he's nine feet tall now." you say proudly not realising how ridiculous you actually sound
"You kinda remind me of him, only difference is you're much shorter... and he's way more handsome." you tell him mumbling the last part but riki caught on
it stopped being funny after you had made fun and complimented him at the same time and he realised you needed to stop with the drinks
he couldn't believe you were complimenting another man right in front of him... it was him but that's not the point-
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solarmorrigan · 9 months
Text
“Get your ass off my counter.”
“Nah.”
Steve huffs. “I literally just wiped that down. Now you’ve got whatever the hell you’ve been sitting in all over it.”
“What the hell do you think I’ve been sitting in?” Eddie asks, one brow raised.
“I don’t know, that’s the problem,” Steve grumbles. “Why do you even need to be up there?”
“I like feeling taller,” Eddie says, sitting up straight to emphasize the few inches of height that sitting on the kitchen island has given him over Steve. “I am king of all I survey.”
Steve rolls his eyes, turning away to finish wiping down the rest of the counters. “King of the assholes, maybe.”
“Aw, baby, you’re giving me your old title?” Eddie asks, voice gone saccharine sweet.
“Oh, fuck off.” Steve turns and whips his sponge at Eddie, who fends it off with his hands, laughing.
“Look, I just think there are much more interesting things you could be doing than cleaning the kitchen,” Eddie says, and Steve can feel his eyes burning on him as he bends to pick up the sponge.
“Oh, yeah?” Steve asks drily. “Enlighten me. What could I be doing that’s oh-so-interesting?”
“I mean,” Eddie leans back on his hands, giving Steve his best roguish grin (he actually calls it that; he uses it when he’s acting out what he thinks of as particularly dashing characters while DMing), “I’ve been told that I’m pretty interesting.”
“That’s one word for it,” Steve says.
Eddie shrugs. “Just giving you the facts, sweetheart.”
“Uh huh. So the interesting thing you think I should be doing is you?” Steve drawls.
“That was the implication, yes.” Eddie nods, smirking down at Steve.
Steve can’t quite help the smile he answers with; sue him, Eddie’s cute when he’s being obvious. “Alright, sure.”
Eddie blinks at him. “Wait, really?”
“Did you want me to say no?” Steve asks, crossing back over to the kitchen island.
“No, no! I just figured I’d have to drop at least one more terrible innuendo before you gave in,” Eddie says.
“Maybe I’m just feeling easy tonight,” Steve says, stepping right up to the island so that he’s standing between Eddie’s legs.
“Yeah?” Eddie asks, looking down at him from his perch.
“Mm.”
Steve reaches up and cups one hand around the back of Eddie’s neck before lifting up onto his toes to close the distance between them, meeting Eddie’s lips in a kiss that he immediately opens up to, making it deep and slick.
He drops back onto his heels when his calves start to burn, and Eddie tries to follow his mouth with a little whine. Steve smiles.
“We can go upstairs and do whatever you want,” he murmurs, looking up at Eddie through his lashes, “just as soon as you clean the counter for me.”
Eddie’s brows furrow, his mind jerked suddenly from the hazy space Steve’s kiss had put it in, all the more startled when Steve shoves the sponge into his hands.
“You can’t be serious,” he says flatly.
Leaning up against the opposite counter, Steve crosses his arms over his chest and says nothing, watching expectantly.
“You are serious,” Eddie concludes.
“The faster you get your ass print off my counter, the faster we can go upstairs,” Steve says.
Eddie slides off the counter with the world’s most petulant sigh and reaches for the cleaner when Steve holds the bottle out to him.
“…show you an ass print,” he’s grumbling as he wipes the kitchen island down again.
“Sounds hot. Save it for the bedroom, babe,” Steve says, laughing when it’s Eddie who turns to throw the sponge at him this time.
[Prompt: Standing on your tip toes to reach your partner's lips]
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euaphoric · 10 months
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AFTERGLOW
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✩‧₊˚ pairing — roommate!jk x f!reader
✩‧₊˚ warnings — fluff, sm*t, v small mention of “sl-tshaming” (not from jk tho), jk is WHIPPED, overst*m, multiple organisms, f*ngering, eating out, spanky spanky
you & jungkook have a heart to heart conversation expressing your dating troubles but end up realizing you might actually be perfect for each other instead.
☆⋆。𖦹°‧★
“it’s like…everyone’s so fucking boring nowadays.” jungkook rambles on as he takes another sip of his wine. “i just can’t find the right one that matches my vibe.”
you nod, “i feel. literally every guy i talk to is lame as hell, they always rather stay in and watch movies than go on an actual date, which is fine sometimes…but all the time? hard pass.”
it’s 2 am on a saturday night and neither of you had anything to do, you proposed going out clubbing but jungkook wasn’t in the mood for that kinda night. he was more of a laid-back, chill type of guy while you were always out late partying and coming home with a new guy every weekend. it’s not like jungkook didn’t have girls (or guys) over either, he was just more discreet about it and made sure you were gone whenever he brought anyone over. he felt like he wouldn’t be able to face you again if you ever heard what he was doing.
“that’s ‘cause they’re just trying to fuck, oldest trick in the book y/n.” jungkook chuckles as you lightly smack his arm. “what— it’s the truth! any guy would wanna get in your pants.”
well, maybe that explains why you’re always getting texts at 2-3 am asking to “come chill” even though you know how it’s going to end and you fall for it every. single. time. maybe that’s why your last hookup called you “for the team” to all his friends, you fucked on the first “date” but only because he showed you cute pics of animals he rescued (curse you for being such a softie). but generally, it didn’t take much for you to want to sleep with someone because you had sexual needs just like everyone else, except you were a girl and that wasn’t very “ladylike” of you. that didn’t stop you from actively seeking potential sex partners though.
“ugh, don’t say that! i’m just more of a lowkey person..i don’t mind netflix dates but damn, ya girl could really use some wining and dining once in a while.” you express frustratedly. it’s been a while since you’ve been taken somewhere nice and the thought of someone planning a cute outing together made you yearn for a relationship even more.
jungkook’s brows lift in confusion, “do i not already do that for you every day?”
he’s constantly cooking for you, soon as you wake up breakfast is made with your favorite—pancakes and fluffy scrambled eggs! he’d also cook you dinner once you got home from an exhausting day of work, he was the perfect roommate you could’ve ever stumbled upon.
“you do— but that’s different..” your voice trails off, thinking of any excuse as to why but you couldn’t put a finger on it.
“how? am i only your maid that cooks and cleans for you? not worthy of anything else?” he pouts dramatically, of course he’d get offended by something so little.
“koo don’t do this right now, you know i appreciate you and your sweet gestures all the time.” sighing as you sink further into the couch, you decide to spill more about your not so eventful sex life. “it seems like most guys only care about getting their nut then dipping, i barely finish if it at all after.” you realize how embarrassing that sounds to admit but you had to confess this to someone, you don’t even know why you continue to torment yourself with this kind of treatment.
jungkook shakes his head in disbelief, appalled at the sad truth of your current dilemma. he too however, faced a similar issue at hand. he can’t seem to find a girl that’ll keep up with his crazy high sex drive. “that sounds truly awful, what the fuck? i’d have you on orgasm number five just from my fingers alone.”
holy shit, did he really just say that? the wine is most definitely getting to him now. the room got real quiet for a second.
“y-you would?” you ask innocently, batting your lashes at him.
he wanted to retract his statements out of embarrassment but you didn’t look put off by his advances at all, instead intrigued. his cheeks turned rosier, very unexpected of you to put him on the spot like that but he was the one who opened pandora’s box to begin with. “i mean… yeah? why wouldn’t i?” he replied, biting his lip as he gauges your reaction to see if what he said was okay. “i’m more of a giver than receiver anyway, i love giving head it’s my specialty. i’ll leave you with that afterglow if you let me babe.”
well now you were going to have to find out, you can’t just let him make such bold claims like that without having the proof to back it up first. you’ve always found your roommate extremely hot but you never tried anything out of respect for his boundaries, he did the same but his urges to make a move on you kept growing as you complained more and more about your past experiences—he wanted to show you how it was really done.
☆⋆。𖦹°‧★
jungkook was determined in making sure you have a great time. your pretty body splayed under him with your backside facing upward, giving him the view of a lifetime. “fuck…” he curses under his breath, his long tatted digits sinking into your dripping core, greedily taking all of him in. you muffle the sounds of your moans by covering your mouth, you had a habit of doing so since you didn’t want to wake jungkook whenever he was sleeping while you were getting it on.
“c’mon you don’t gotta be shy babe, be as loud as you want with me.” he husks, giving a spank to your left cheek leaving a visibly red handprint. hands sliding up the curves of your body, caressing you as he pumps his fingers deeper. “mmh.. fuck— koo keep going.” whimpering out pathetically as walls clench around him. he adds another digit to the mix, watching them disappear in your cunt while looking at your perfectly round, plump ass. never in a million years would he think he’d be doing this to his roommate of all people.
you felt a knot tying in your stomach from the pleasure, grabbing onto the leather couch tightly—feeling yourself getting close already. “sound so pretty when you moan, don’t stop.” he encourages sweetly, “i’m making you feel good aren’t i?” sounded more like a statement rather than a question.
“y-yes, think i’m gonna cu— oh fuck!” eyes roll to the back of your head as feel yourself come undone on jungkook’s fingers, creaming all over them as he continues fingering you, thumb swiping harshly over your clit to help ride out your high. the overstimulation was too much to handle for you, bratty whines escaping your lips as you just couldn’t take anymore. “on your back now.” he orders, producing another spank to your rear, you squeal from the contact but get up and lye on your back as he told you to do.
“open.” jungkook groans impatiently for you, slipping his fingers coated with your milky essence. you suck them off one by one, getting a taste of yourself while looking directly in his eyes. god…you were going to be the death of him.
“mmm..so fuckin’ hot babe.” he smirks, planting a soft kiss to your lips to get a taste on your tongue. he needed to have more of you. kissing down your chin, neck, collarbone, chest, all the day down to your navel—faint blotches of red appear on the bruised skin; creating a beautiful masterpiece on your body. more kisses are pressed into your soaked inner thighs, trailing his lips up to your entrance as he licks his lips before he begins feasting. “don’t hold back on me baby, be as rough as you want.” he coos, lowering his head to flatten his tongue, licking a long slow stripe against your throbbing slit.
“shit!” you almost cry from how good he feels against you already, bucking your hips into his mouth as he sucks on your puffy bundle of nerves. eyes looking up at you fiercely while he watches you shake and writhe under him. “so good, so goood. just like that, don’t stop please!” you continued grinding your core on his face, making a leaky mess all over him. he could care less though, he’ll happily drown in your juices any day.
his fingers return back inside for extra stimulation but you end up crying out more, the feeling has your head spinning intensely. you don’t know how much more you can possibly take but you firmly pull on his hair for leverage, tightly tugging it not caring if it hurts since he said not to hold back. his free hand caresses your thigh gently, flicking his tongue rapidly on your clit and lapping up your wetness, you taste like a dream.
“oh my god…” you mewl slightly above a whisper, you suddenly forgot how to use your voice. his mouth was making you feel more than amazing, better than anything you’ve felt before. you feel bad for all the guys you fucked in the past because they definitely won’t be getting a call back from you now.
“taste so sweet angel,” he mutters before shortly going back to what he was doing, “mmmm…” he hums against you and the vibrations leave you shuddering. another orgasm erupts out of you as you scream his name louder, spasming and shaking under his touch. this time your release squirts out onto his tongue, licking up every drop, even the left over excess on your thighs.
he presses a kiss to your abused clit, lightly dragging a finger over it to rub in circles, making it swell up again. “p-please koo, no more… n-no more.” you whine again and again but he just pretends not to hear you. he’s not going to stop until he’s completely satisfied with the end result. the end result being you looking a total fucked-out mess. “shut up. stop talking.” his eyes give you a menacing glare. you don’t utter another word, you wouldn’t dare test him right now.
he slings your leg over his shoulder and pushes you in closer, teasing your sensitive entrance while curling his fingers inside, he could do this all day if you’d let him. your breath shortens, digging your nails deeper into his skin from the bliss you feel— you were overly sensitive and felt another one nearing your way. he wasn’t even using his tongue on you anymore, he was just so good with his fingers alone it was enough to have you squirting all over him.
and you did just that, again. “that’s right baby, cum all over my fingers like a good girl.” he praises, feeling the tightness of you wrap around him. your body was so numb. panting, moaning, vision getting blurry as you coat his inked digits with your cream for the third time in a row. he pulls them out slowly, letting you drip all over the couch, chuckling with endearment of you. it almost didn’t feel real with the way he was making you cum so easily for him. he had a natural talent at this it seems. you felt weightless, as light as air in his touch, a radiant beam of ecstasy lingers within you.
“that was…incredible.” you gush, ruffling his already disheveled hair, “i haven’t felt like this in a really long time.”
jungkook kept smirking; boy you were in for so much more tonight. “mm..relax gorgeous, ’m not even close to being done with you just yet. gonna have everyone know who’s my name once we’re finished.”
@genkima @sweet-sourhotcoco ⸜(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡
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beambillybro · 4 months
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Credits to @/_momorxn on twitter for the translation! I just wanted to have it in the comic because this literally destroyed me this morning. I ranted to my partner abt this for like a good 30 minutes.
The bully calls them losers, and ivan didnt know what it meant. So, he asks till, and he explains that it basically means "friendless idiot" after calling ivan an idiot, which then prompted ivan to say that the bully was right and they were both friendless idiots. This clearly made till upset and since he only knows how to defend himself with violence he punches ivan and runs away in frustration because in his eyes, ivan, the only friend he had and probably the only person that didnt make him feel like a "friendless idiot", was insulting him of being just that. However, ivan clearly didnt mean it as an offense, he was simply stating what was obvious to him.... that till and him only had each other, and so that made them both "friendless idiots".
Ivan learnt two things that day : first, when something is hurt, you gently touch them and tell them to stay strong. second, he was a loser. So now that hes hurt both physically from till's punch and emotionally for offending his one and only, he gently pats his own injury and tells himself to stay strong, despite the lingering pain that was tormenting him and making it hard for him to confidently believe in what he was saying. am i being dramatic? probably. But this is worth being dramatic for
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tarottaleteller · 14 days
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*Disclaimer: This reading is for fun and entertainment purposes only. It is in no way meant to act as or replace professional reading. Please take what resonates, leave what doesn't. All the pictures were taken from Pinterest. Heyy, I am very sorry for the delay, can't seem to time manage for some reason these days. This reading's topic is "When are you going to meet your next partner". Hope you enjoy! This is an 18+ reading! If you're a minor, please skip this post.
Pile 1
Pile 1, I see summer for you. Or definitely when the sun will be out and it will be warm enough to wear dresses. Most likely, it is going to be somewhere near nature. If you live in a city with the sea or any large body of water, then you might literally meet them at the beach. I see your future partner having bronze skin, lighter coloured hair and green/hazel-ish eyes. Their smile will be what you’re going to fall for, Pile 1. You’ll literally see them as the sun. Your relationship will be filled with inside jokes and lots of laughter. You guys might become each other’s besties first before getting into a relationship since one or both of you will have some anxiety or fears when it comes to dating, but with that partner it will all go away. Aww, I hear “You’re my safe place”. You could call them at 3AM with any problem and they will be happy and eager to help. I’m getting a scene where the girl is sick and the guy wraps a blanket around her and lovingly hugs her saying how cute she is even when she’s sick. Very healthy vibes here. Even if you’re not going to last, this relationship will help you grow confident and you will be forever grateful for that partner. This is such a soft, loving energy. I’m so happy for you, Pile 1!
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Pile 2
Wow, Pile 2. The very first thing I got for your pile is “LOTS of sex”. I feel like your future partner will have a very high libido and will just generally find you super attractive. Physically, you will be their absolute ideal type. And it’s like they will always want to have a hand around you somehow because they just love your body a lot. Regarding timing, I keep getting fall, I see yellow leaves on the trees. I think you’ll meet them at some sort of party or gathering. Even if you go to a bar with a friend, that also counts. Basically a place where people have fun. If generally you struggle with self-esteem or finding yourself sexually attractive, this partner will definitely massively help with that. You will feel like the hottest girl in the room alwaysss. I’m not gonna lie, Pile 2, I don’t really see any serious intentions from this partner, but they also won’t deny it. Like you will know that it’s mostly physical and perhaps some fun dates here and there, but that’s about it. Although I feel like you will accept it and be ok with it because you will also find them very good looking. Hope you enjoyed your reading, Pile 2!
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Pile 3
Now, this is my depressed pile. I am getting a lot of loneliness and sadness. I’m so sorry, Pile 3. Whatever you’re going through right now, please just remember that there’s always a rainbow after the storm. The Universe is insinuating that you have to deal with your depression/anxiety first, because otherwise you won’t be able to find healthy relationships. I know it sounds cliche, but you should fall in love with yourself first. I understand that it can be very tricky, but you can write down all of your achievements in life (earning 50 cents by selling lemonade as a kid counts!), all your little and big wins. We all have them! Watch some creators like Wizard Liz to boost up your confidence (I do it all the time!). Start eating healthy foods, take care of your body. Do for yourself whatever you would do for your partner. It will help you, I promise. Soon enough, you’ll start to realize how powerful and great you are, and that’s when your future bf/gf will find you. And guess what? They’ll love the hell out of you, because they’ll see how much you had to go through and how gracefully you overcame your battles and how kind and loving you are in spite of all that. You’re truly beautiful souls, my Pile 3. I promise, love will find you at the right time when you will feel ready. And you will feel ready when you will start loving and appreciating yourself, your body, and your heart just as much as your partner’s. I believe in you, Pile 3!!!
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Pile 4
I’m getting some mixed vibes here, Pile 4. You’re meeting your next partner very soon, within a few weeks literally. Your future partner is gorgeous, Pile 4. They might literally take your breath away when you first see them. Hollywood actor type of look. However, I just want to warn you that this partner might have some deep traumas that they refuse to acknowledge that might lead them to be closed down and be easily irritable. It’s like they will actually be a softie inside, but because of their past (feels like a dysfunctional family environment) they might pull up this idgaf persona that will push people away. It's weird because I see that you will know and sense that very well and will try to break through that facade, but your future partner just won’t let you, even though they realize you have the best of intentions. Honestly, this is kind of toxic. The relationship will feel one-sided and it will seem like you’re the one initiating everything. You might stay with them for a few months but then you will face the truth that if they don’t want to heal, nobody else can do it for them. It kind of reminds me of the “After” series, but less dramatic. They will definitely like you and deep inside they will feel super guilty to be treating you like this. That also could be the reason why they don’t want to get too close to you. They care about you and they understand that you deserve better. They’re not a bad person, they are just not ready to face the traumas yet. Honestly, Pile 4, I do not recommend you to get into a relationship with this person, maybe just stay friends until they heal. 
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Sorry that some of the piles were negative, but these are the messages I got and I just want to be honest with you guys. Sending love to all of you!! 
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LOSING MY MIND OVER UNKNOWN EPISODE 8
Another week, another incredible episode of Unknown, another shout into the ether that they do not fuck this up for me in the final four episodes. Chris and Kurt are so good together as scene partners, but I am definitely dubbing Episode 8, The Chris Episode because holy hell was Chris juggling so many different emotions from Qian throughout the entire episode in all its tense and awkward glory. 
I think I want to talk about eyes. Because I just recently rewatched Episode 6, and was losing it all over again at Qian’s complete refusal to make eye contact with Yuan from the moment Yuan says he’s suffering until he returns from the United States. Especially because in Episode 8, he barely makes eye contact with Yuan but for very different reasons. 
Bedroom 
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gif by @wanderlust-in-my-soul
Qian wakes up the morning after Yuan’s return to find Yuan sleeping at his side. Now, knowing that Yuan is really only pretending to be asleep, and that he will continue to terrorize Qian throughout the episode, Yuan has positioned himself in such a way that the very first thing Qian has the ability to see when he wakes up is Yuan’s face. In the initial moment of wakefulness, Qian uses this private, quiet moment to study Yuan’s face, after years. 
And similarly to the end of Episode 7, we look through Qian’s eyes via close up of Yuan’s face on screen only to hear Yuan say “seen enough?” Which is where we get a very good microexpression from Chris because Qian’s eyes go slightly wider, surprised that Yuan is a) actually awake and b) able to tell that he is Looking. But Qian does not look away. 
Yuan opens his eyes, and Qian shifts, lifting his head up slightly as if he’s dialed in…but he is only able to maintain eye contact with Yuan for (literally) 2 seconds, before snapping himself out of it and sitting upright to take himself out of physical line (or plane) with Yuan. But he immediately looks back down at Yuan looking very dazed and at least slightly confused, and from my perspective a lot of that is informed by the fact that Qian is having to adjust to Yuan being back home. But the longest Qian can bear to look at Yuan is approximately 5 seconds. 
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gif by @thecasualfkfan
Qian, man of few words, tries to cut the thick silence with a caregiving question ‘are you hungry?” cut to the mirror where we see a reflection of only Qian, a jarring site because typically when Qian and Yuan are in the same room, they are framed together. “I’ll take you to the hotpot place,” and Yuan says nothing, so Qian tries to cut the tension again by saying he’ll message San Pang and Xiong. 
“No need for the trouble. We can eat at home.” Yuan replies, and it gives Qian pause. Years have passed since he last saw Yuan, Yuan is established in his adulthood, successful, independent, confident, and sure. Qian has not been coping well, and the easy relationship, the familiar dynamic that he once had with Yuan is gone, he has no idea how to exist around Yuan right now. Qian turns his head slowly, to look at Yuan once more, but Yuan is up and out the door, leaving Qian to just stare at the space he left behind for a moment. 
We get the second isolated framing of Qian in the mirror as his eyes move from the space by his bed where Yuan sat towards the door that Yuan just walked through. 
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So what I love about this episode is that Yuan knows his feelings, and I think he has a pretty good understanding of where Qian’s feelings rest now that Qian has called him home. Yuan has a goal, Yuan knows what he wants, the distance has very much helped to calm the storm of feelings that Yuan was having a hard time keeping a handle on when he was younger. Qian on the other hand, has a few more crises to work through before he can feel grounded in his changing feelings for Yuan. Which is what I think we are watching him parse through right before the intro when his eyes follow Yuan out the door and then close accompanied by a deep intake of breath. A moment to process what just happened. 
This episode is very aptly titled The Distance Between Us and Love because Yuan is doing nothing but playing with distance. He is being petty, he is pushing buttons, he is- I would claim -essentially edging Qian by getting just close enough to inspire physiological responses in Qian without completely closing the distance. 
Dinner 
And that distance also includes a demonstration to Qian about how Yuan is capable of maintaining an emotional distance from him now that Yuan’s priorities have changed and he is no longer blindly, overwhelmingly devoted to Qian. And it’s funny in the show because it feels petty, because it is a little petty, but under the surface there is a lot of richness in understanding that Yuan’s position as an adoptee, as a traumatized child, as someone that was saved and probably felt the need to maintain his place, who didn’t have the same level of security in the household as Xiao Bao has had, Yuan has made Qian his number one priority for a significant part of his life, so much so that Qian has fallen right back in to the routine of anticipating being cared for by Yuan upon his return, but it is subject to change. To me, this entire episode reads like Yuan telling Qian “you have the choice not to engage in a relationship with me, but the emotional distance and deprioritization you are experiencing right now will be the new normal, can you bear that?” 
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Qian walks up to the table and sees a truly impressive layout of food in front of him, and he looks somewhat shocked between the food and Yuan, the food and Yuan. Yuan has always been a helpful person, he has been trying to ease Qian’s burdens his entire life, but he’s an adult now and thus his reciprocated care means actually being able to provide for and support Qian holistically. Yuan walks out of the kitchen with a hangover cure, and Chris performs an inspired bit of improv and reaches for the glass, because Qian has slipped back into a world where someone cares about him first. But like I said, Yuan isn’t acting that way right now. 
I love that Qian looks to his right to see if San Pang caught his #awkwardmoment and that is sustained throughout the dinner as Qian keeps stealing glances at Yuan, but looking away before he can have any silent interactions with Yuan at all. My favorite part of this scene is Yuan’s interaction with San Pang who is also absolutely awkward with Yuan. In this scene we get a massive dig from Yuan to both San Pang and Qian, and on the surface it’s petty but if you look in an additional layer, there is so much disrespect behind Yuan’s words. 
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“San Pang. Thank you. I’ve thought a lot during my time abroad. If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have the chance to go to the US and get what I have now. I’m grateful to you. Thank you.”
It is important, in my mind, that the end of this statement is followed with a cut to Qian’s face and not San Pang’s because it wasn’t San Pang that sent Yuan to the US. He was the one who delivered the news for sure, but it was the money Qian had saved over the course of years that sent Yuan abroad. There is soooo much disrespect in this statement because Yuan is ignoring Qian’s contribution to his time abroad and he is telling San Pang, essentially, that anything that happens between Yuan and Qian moving forward is directly because of him. 
And now, a commercial break for the funniest scene in the show to date: 
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Bedroom 2
Here we start with the hands :) Yuan enters Qian’s room and immediately moves behind him, putting a hand on his shoulder. Qian is mad about San Pang and Lili and he is fully not making eye contact with Yuan, barely even turns in his direction when he enters the room, puts as much distance between himself and Yuan as he can in his room. 
“Ge. Have you ever thought that we can’t accept changes because we’re too used to the way things were?”
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And we get Qian finally and slowly looking in Yuan’s general direction, Yuan moves to the bed, to Qian’s side and over the course of the conversation Qian looks towards Yuan about three more times, but he never turns completely, he never looks directly. Not even when Yuan calls him “Wei Qian” which was a brilliant fucking move on his part when he’s trying to drive home the point that the nature of people’s relationships to one another can change. Yuan leaves and the camera cuts to him leaving exiting Qian’s room and entering his own and a few seconds later, Qian opens his door, standing in the doorway in a similar fashion to how we saw him at the end of Episode 6 right after Yuan had left the house to go to the States. 
At the Computer
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gif by @wanderlust-in-my-soul
As time continues, and Qian has not verbalized his own feelings for Yuan, Yuan starts pushing him a little harder. At first there was distance, then touch, and now he is getting bolder, literally getting in Qian’s face when he isn’t paying attention so that Qian is forced to look on in surprise and he’s asking Qian a question with his face so close there is literally no where for Qian to turn to. And Qian responds not only by looking at him, but by scanning his face, eyes flitting down to Yuan’s lips two separate times. Yuan lets the moment hang long enough for Qian to show his uncertainty around what is about to happen (is Yuan going in for a kiss?) before he breaks the tension by asking Qian a business question. But he’s been successful in shaking Qian because Qian looks back at Yuan twice in ten seconds, while Yuan just continues to stare directly at Qian to prevent Qian from stealing glances. 
Being Fed
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We cut to probably my favorite scene of the episode with Yuan feeding Qian, mostly because Qian has no fucking idea what to do about it. Also because it has absolutely one of my favorite blocking moments when Qian reaches for the bowl in Yuan’s hand at the same time Yuan leans forward to feed him. I love this moment a) because the execution of the motion is so smooth and b) because of the concept of food as love. Qian here is trying to take the food from Yuan while Yuan is reaching out with the spoon to feed Qian his love. Qian takes the proffered bite apprehensively, and then rejects the continued action by taking the bowl from Yuan. 
And Yuan as he usually is, spends all his time staring straight at Qian, so that Qian is forced to catch his eye if and when he looks in Yuan’s general direction. Qian is really struggling with his feelings for Yuan this episode so he rushes to finish his food and get the fuck out of dodge. Between each bite he looks to Yuan for just a second before turning his head further and further to the side so as not to catch Yuan in his periphery. 
“They say if you like someone, even if you wear a mask you can see it in their eyes” Qian cannot look at Yuan, because Yuan is bleeding his feelings for Qian. Qian cannot look at Yuan because Qian is bleeding his feelings for Yuan. But unfortunately for Qian, it is not just his eyes that give him away. Because he has not reckoned with his new feelings, Qian is incapable of interacting with Yuan without being the most awkward motherfucker alive. Because Yuan is confident in what he wants and Qian is still having to adjust. Qian finishes the food and hands the empty bowl back to Yuan, and just as he is about to remove himself from the situation, Yuan scoops up the very last remnants of the meal and starts to feed it to Qian. 
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gif by @coffeelover5eva
Qian for just a second jerks his head back, in the same way that he moved his head slightly backwards when he turned to find Yuan staring at him in his bedroom. Much in the same way that he will take a step back later when Yuan moves to fix his collar. But because Qian does have feelings for Yuan and is fighting a losing battle, that instinctual reaction to put some distance between them, to not be cared for, quickly makes way into a deflated submission as he lets Yuan feed him those last little morsels. Yuan walks away as Qian just sits in quiet, annoyed, resignation. Chris’ face throughout this entire scene is just absolutely hysterical.  
Yet another commercial break, because I am dying at Yuan being a menace
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I do think it is worth noting that Qian’s reaction to this is very similar to his reaction to Yuan saying he liked him in that first attempt where he physically and emotionally disengages, gives him a little pat and tries to remove himself from the situation at hand. 
Car
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gif by @ueasking
Absolutely the most normal and relaxed Qian has acted around Yuan for this entire episode is in the scene where Lili is bailing on the family trip and he and Yuan are discussing what to do next. Is that little hand stopping the trunk from opening all the way a little desperate? Yeah I think so. But holy shit is it the least tense Qian has been with Yuan in quite some time. 
That does not last long though because once they get in the car, Qian sits there expectantly, waiting for the charged sexual tension that would come with Yuan reaching over him to buckle his seat belt. I love this show for giving us the parallel fishing trips, because Yuan originally tried to pull the BL Seatbelt Staple years prior without complete success, Qian does not get the luxury of a second chance to get butterflies in his stomach having Yuan that close. It’s fucking brilliant to have had the buckle before, because it means the audience very clearly knows what Qian is thinking and expecting when he makes no move of his own to buckle up.
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gif by @wanderlust-in-my-soul
What I love so much about this moment is that Qian has been trying to avoid these feelings time and time again since Yuan returned. And here we know he’s lost because for the first time in the entire episode he is waiting for Yuan to make a move. He wants Yuan to buckle him in. He can’t say it out loud, it’s embarrassing for him to have Yuan not buckle him in while having Yuan passively calling him out on his expectations. 
If Qian’s absolute inability to function with Yuan gone was not enough of an indication that Qian has lost this fight already, this is absolutely the point in which we know Yuan has won. Because after all the avoidance, those split seconds of jumping back, of adding distance, of trying to shorten the time the two of them are alone together, Qian doesn’t bail on the trip and Qian waits for Yuan to make a move. 
Fishing
First, it must be acknowledged that under the sunlight, Qian’s hair is very red. In other words. The boy has uke hair. 
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“When did you get so good at fishing” Qian asks
“When I was abroad I used to go hiking and fishing by myself. I didn’t feel lonely when I imagined you were by my side,”  Yuan replies 
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and Qian furrows his brow slightly because Qian did that too. Not the hiking-and-fishing part, but the curbing the loneliness by imagining-Yuan-was-there part. We can see it in Episode 7 when he smiles and toasts the air at his side with his beer can after Lili and San Pang leave for the Christmas market, and if you didn’t catch that moment the first time (I did not) we get it again in the flashback Qian has, remembering the brightness and the chaos of Lili and Yuan being in the house. 
“Ge, do you have something to say?”
“Zhiyuan, don’t keep your feelings for me anymore. Nothing will come of them” Yuan chuckles, which like…valid buddy, cause that is fucking hilarious. Not because Yuan doesn’t have feelings for Qian, but because something will definitely come of them. Because this is Qian’s last attempt at trying to maintain the status quo. Trying to be responsible and keep their feelings for each other at a non-romantic level. But it’s too late, Qian, you’re a goner. Qian looks at Yuan, but only in his peripheral vision, he dares not look at Yuan flat out at this point. 
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“What makes you think I still have feelings for you?” Qian looks at Yuan immediately after he says that, and not just looks at his face, but down his body, and then out in to his own thoughts. 
“Ge, do you remember a long time ago you asked me what I would do if the person I liked got married?”
“You said you’d go crazy”
“My answer’s changed.” 
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And with that Qian has the sharpest, fastest head turn we’ve seen from him all episode but for the first time in the entire episode, Yuan is not looking a Qian. He is giving Qian the space to look, to think. He tells Qian that he will be happy as long as the person that he likes is happy, and we immediately see this tension release itself from Qian’s forehead. Qian is looking pensive throughout the conversation, and his eyes only move once Yuan moves again that Qian’s eyes follow the motion of the lid. Yuan moves to sit on the container, which places Qian not only below him, but the camera angle shrinks Qian down so he appears even smaller than usual next to Yuan. 
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Qian looks at Yuan when he sits down 
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“Wei Qian. Don’t you like Wei Zhiyuan?” Yuan asks, and the moment his question finishes, Qian looks away, because Qian has been incapable of maintaining eye contact where any romantic feelings are involved, but he is actually thinking here. You can see that question weighing heavy on Qian’s mind. And he can’t just run away from it so he closes his eyes and looks away again. 
“If you do, is it only because we’re brothers?” and Qian’s jaw tenses considerably as he processes the question. You can see his lip move, you can see the twitching of his cheek as he clenches his teeth. But Yuan is done teasing Qian. Qian has become increasingly more obvious in his reactions to Yuan and now that Yuan has successfully riled Qian up over the past few days and they are alone where they had their first conversation about Yuan’s crush on an unknown boy. @romchat has already pointed out the reverse imagery for the parallel here but Yuan reaches out and clasps Qian’s cheek, the same way that Qian has done for Yuan countless times. 
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gif by @wanderlust-in-my-soul
When Yuan’s hand first makes contact, Qian looks at it but keeps his eyes trained downward. But the second time that Yuan’s thumb slides gently across his cheek, Qian looks up, looks straight into Yuan’s eyes. He does not tense any further, he does not fight against it, he does not shy away from Yuan’s touch or Yuan’s gaze. (@respectthepetty has a very lovely little breakdown of this scene herself here)
“This thing about us, is it that you don’t want, or you don’t dare?” Yuan asks and we move back to a wide angle shot that closes out the episode with the little title card. But Chris doesn’t stop acting just because there isn’t a close up on his face, oh no. No. Instead Qian’s face relaxes eeeeeever so slightly, and you can see him swallow hard. This is not a question he wants to be faced with because we all know what the answer is, and the answer is that he does want, but doesn’t dare. And the second that his fear of losing Yuan for a second time becomes stronger than his fear of changing their relationship? Game over. 
This show is putting so many worms in my brain, I love it so much, and I am so looking forward to episode 9 where I get to see my boys being put through hell at the hands of the gang. Torture my boys! They don’t have enough angst!!
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