#i mean this is still better than TT

[an-gothamite-aka-zannalial]

I fell in love with the idea that Damian was doing graffiti with his friends but none of his family members knew it was him, that was a really funny idea

Jason: I have to admit that my graffiti with Roy in Crime Alley wasn't bad

Damian: really. I thought you would be angry because, well, you were made half naked by that person

Jason: Actually I think it's kinda hot

Damian: *Immediately planning to make them kiss later

Steph: I quite like the graffiti that J.B made for me

Damian: I have to admit, Brown, you don't deserve anything that good

Steph: You're just jealous because you didn't get yours from him, maybe he doesn't like you, kid

Damian: I don't need something like that, it just insults my name

Steph: Well if one day he makes you and you smile you owe me 10 dollars

Damian: tt

Dick: That guy captured how hot I was really well

Dick: *starts talking about all the things that should be included

Damian: *Regret following his friend's idea

Cass: Love the graffiti

Damian: That's pretty good but still not enough for you Cain

Cass: still love it

Damian: *Regretting doesn't make it better

Cass: Are you sad, he might want to make you

Damian: I don't need that tt

Cass: I'll ask him

Damian: *Regret again because appeared in front of Cass

Tim: I'm glad someone wants to appreciate my existence since you tried to kill me

Damian: You shouldn't be happy Drake, just because one person makes you doesn't mean you're famous

Tim: look who jealous now, just because he don't get one

Damian: tt fuck you

Harper: that person make better graffiti in one night than Cullen in one week about me

Cullen: Don't pretend to forget that you also tried to make one but failed, sis. This means he is much more talented than you

Harper: Nuh uh

Cullen: Don't use what I teach against me, I dare you

Damian: *Just listen and watch this match

Duke: I guess I'll have to look this guy up and thank him, that graffiti is amazing

Damian: You don't need to do that Thomas, he made it mean he doesn't care if you thank him or not

Duke: I still want to do them, I think there are only a few that he hasn't made yet

Damian: yeah tt

Kate: I'm so hot on that graffiti, and so are you Luke

Luke: Yes, I need to admit it. But aren't there only three left?

Damian: I don't think so because that guy made some for the Rouge's to

Kate: Isn't it true I haven't seen him, I guess he'd make all Gotham freak then

Luke: probably

Selina: So O and I have already gotten one, doesn't that mean the only ones left are the two of you

Bruce: No. I got one too I checked, And it says fuck you

Selina: he doesn't like you then, that means now there's only one left that doesn't have one

Bruce: yeah

Damian: *Makes a super duper big about himself in the middle of the city

[bywons]

𖥔ׅ YOU CAN BE THE BOSS — PSH

𝖮𝖱 𝖶𝖧𝖤𝖭 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝗈𝗌𝗌 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝗎𝗍𝖾 𝗌𝖾𝖼𝗋𝖾𝗍, 𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝖼𝗎𝗍𝖾

𝖲𝖧𝖮𝖶𝓉𝖨𝖬𝖤 ⋆ 𝖼𝖾𝗈!𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗄 𝗌𝗎𝗇𝗀𝗁𝗈𝗈𝗇 𝗑 𝖿!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𖥔 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿 𝒾𝖭𝖢𝖫𝖴𝖣𝖨𝖭𝖦 𝗌𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉, 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝖿𝖺𝗇𝗂𝗍𝗒?, 𝗅𝗈𝗍𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 1399 wc ( CATALOGUE。)

૮ ♡◞ ◟ ა ⠀PLS REBLOG !! 4 my princess @atrirose i locee u vv much TT

“you were supposed to send me that report a week ago.”

here comes the insufferable perfectionist, with an annoying handsome face which makes it just impossible to hate him for too long. he pushes the glass so it settles still on the top of his nose bridge, eyebrows jotted together to hint a slight disappointment in you. you want to mock him, make faces and scream at him, “leave me alone, idiot!”, but then you visualise your resignation. what an asshole of a boss.

you lift your head up to meet his eyes, hands buried in the pockets of black trousers, leaning tall over your work cubicle. “i uhm- i was, i was sick. high fever,” oh gosh, you hope he doesn't catch the shakiness in your voice.

“high fever?” park sunghoon raises an eyebrow, skepticism etched on his face. “convenient timing, don't you think?”

your heart races, and you mentally kick yourself for not thinking of a better excuse. “it came on suddenly,” you stammer, hoping your blush isn’t too obvious. “but i'm feeling better now, so i'll get right on that report.”

and just as you're about to type away on your laptop, a soft but firm grip on your wrist stops you from doing so. and of course, it has to be park sunghoon, the sole trouble maker in your life.

“actually, come meet me at my office,” he says, before letting off your wrist and striding off to his office.

ugh, there you go, another hour long lecture again.

shortly after, you make it to his office. you glance back, all your colleagues getting ready to end their shift and head home. fuck you, park sunghoon, you evil man.

“sir, can i—”

“come in,” sunghoon's serious invites you in, and you close the translucent glass door behind you, which does a pretty good job of reflecting the inner furniture and heads in a blurry, but certain way. “don't just look around, take a seat.”

sunghoon doesn't lift his head up even for a second after you enter the room, he simply gestures you to sit down before him, as he types something on his own laptop, the coffee forgotten and cold beside it. you tap your heels slightly against the office floor, it's been a whole fifteen minutes inside this room already, a minute more and you might just combust.

it's hard to stare at his face. not in a boring, ‘he's so rude’ way, but more of in a breathtaking, ‘i want to kiss him’ way. to be honest, you've imagined how his lips would feel against yours, whether they would move in sync and sweep you by your feet, or steal your breath and make you fantasise. would he like the kiss? would park sunghoon ever kiss you? does he want to kiss you, like you do right now? his ever concentrated face directed towards the laptop screen, the little creases that form around his eyebrows makes him look so cute. you'd like to think that it's just a harmless crush on your grumpy boss, and nothing more than that.

but time's passing by fast, and you need to get home. the taps of your heels against the floor fastens as you say in a tone of urgency.

“mr. park, is this about—”

“call me sunghoon,” he startled you, closing his laptop, “we're of the same age, so it's weird.”

“ok, sunghoon,” you gulp, gosh it feels weird, “is this about me not submitting my leave application?”

“no? it's just a .. friendly talk with my secretary.”

“oh?” what is this bastard planning on again, “well, what is it?”

“how sick were you? i mean, your temperature,” at this point you could throw yourself out of the window. shit, he's kinda smirking, does he really know you weren't sick? that it's all a lie? that you were faking it to avoid a deadline that had you pulling your hair out and attend the corporate party instead? in your defence, that party was much needed by you after a week long of hectic paperwork.

“like about…a 102—”

“i guess people with a 102F fever don't go to parties?” crap. you know that smirk, that ‘i-caught-you-bastard’ smirk. was he at that party too? shit, no way— “i was there too.”

sunghoon sets aside his laptop and leans in against the work desk, folded hands beneath his chin and another ‘know it all’ smirk shoots at you. you gulp, did he listen to you and minji talking too? oh no, no, no, no. you don't want to be fired.

“you annoying bastard,” it was intended to be a low whisper, but under the pressure of your enraging boss's stare, it came out louder than you intended.

“annoying bastard? i think that suits me?”

“no, mr park i didn't mean—”

“no no it's okay, i get that, a lot,” and now he gets up from his seat, circling around his desk to stand just in front of you.

“but i don't get ‘he's cute’ a lot.”

shit.

“i don't get ‘i like him’,‘he's so handsome’,‘he's so gorgeous’ a lot,” you were too mesmerised by his walks and the glints of his eyes to realise he's too close now, hands on either sides of the arm rest in your chair, blocking you in, “i don't get… ‘i wish i could kiss him’ a lot.”

shit, is he smiling or smirking? you can't really say when his face is inches above yours, babbling nothing but the truth. you had in fact shared your little desires about your boss to your best friend, minji, in the party. if only you knew he would be there, you would've bolted out of that place.

this current situation is really getting to you. you're trapped in a damn chair, you don't dare to move as his face only comes closer. a sudden wave of deja vu hits you; no, you've never been trapped in a chair like this by your boss before. but this intimacy, this fluttering proximity reminds you of those playful staring contest between you and him across the office, stumbling over paperwork and crashing against sunghoons chest, and now, this. you could feel heat rushing to your cheeks, as slowly his face transcends down further, now right beside your ear, his lips softly brushing the earlobe.

“no, i-i mean the other park sunghoon, you k-know?”

“hmm? but there's only one park sunghoon in the hype building whom i know of.”

“no you're getting me—”

park sunghoon doesn't let you finish your sentence, he thinks you're too cute to not kiss right now, so he does just that.

a small kiss, a look of admiration and fush in his eyes, then another, and another, and this one holds for a moment.

and the kiss is just as you imagined, soft, sensual, in sync with your rapid heartbeats as the distance slowly begins to disappear, his hands closing in around your cheeks to cup them.

he pulls back, breathing heavy with that smug smirk of his, “was it … cute? or gorgeous?”

“i think i want to kiss you once more,” you whisper. a twitching smile, shy eyes looking up at him and he smiles back, you feel yourself blushing again.

“of course,” sunghoon chuckles, now lifting you up from the chair and sitting down on it himself. placing you on his lap, he leans in for a sweet kiss, once more. it's just as soft and breathtaking as before, this time, you melt even more as you hook your hands around his neck and blush furiously into the kiss.

sitting on your boss’s lap to share a passionate kiss was definitely not in your bingo list this year.

his kisses travel down from your lips, becoming more feathery and ticklish as they reach your cheeks, jaw and finally the crook of your neck.

“i think i find you quite gorgeous too,” he holds you by your waist.

“you think?”

“nah, i'm sure”

“would then be uhm, like to be personal secretary?” he smirks, caressing your cheeks.

“and what do i get in return?” you chuckle

“anything you want,” he reassures, softly gliding a hand behind your back. your eyes surge around the office room for a potential gift, and then they land on the big bold ‘CEO PARK SUNGHOON’ engraved on the metal plate, and then you look back at him, “anything?”

“oh? mrs. ceo?” he smirks again, looking at the plate and then back at you. “of course, you can be the boss,”

a/n — yayaya comeback fic how r u guys, missed ya smsmsm ^0^ pleek lmk what u think of this !!! personally, my skills r cooked TT CLICK ME

© bywons, 2024. do not copy, translate or upload any of my works without my permission

📌 :: PERM TAGLIST IS OPEN ( the tags are rebloged ! ) nets. @/k-labels

[heart4gyu]

wet dreamz pt.2 || jake x reader

[ part 1 here ]

note: it’s finally here !! i want to point out that jake is much softer (?) than i intended but i love him like this.. he’s my lover boy 🫂 anyway i rly hope you guys enjoy this because i had to scrap the original and start over omg it was a mess and work got in the way too TT but i definitely have some more jake coming soon that im so excited for !! leave ur thoughts & suggestions too plsss 🙏 [i haven’t proofread im so sleepyyyy bye]

after you sent jake that last text, inviting him over to your place, he didn’t respond. which was understandable considering jake never knew how to respond when you flirted with him, always blushing and stuttering out an awkward reply.

so as you got ready to meet up with some friends, putting on a small black dress and your favorite sparkly heels, you were surprised to hear a couple knocks at your door. even more surprised when you found jake standing there, holding a beautiful bouquet of flowers.

“jake, what are you doing here?” you asked, feeling yourself blush, the flowers throwing you off your game a bit. no guy had ever turned up with flowers for you, especially without occasion. it was sweet.

“you- you invited me,” he says, his pretty eyes holding eye contact better than he usually does. you’d never felt this nervousness for a guy before. but you’d guess he was doing no better considering the way he was trying so hard not to look down at your low cut dress and exposed thighs.

“oh yeah… you just didn’t respond so i thought- um… do you wanna come in?” you cut yourself off, stepping aside to make room for him. he nodded as he stepped inside, looking around.

“sorry i didn’t respond… i was kinda nervous. i mean not that i’ve never- you know i just- well i don’t know why i didn’t respond actually. and you look just really pretty right now- well you always look pretty but-” he went on, stumbling cutely before you interrupted him with a laugh.

“it’s okay jakey. i was gonna go out but we could just stay here if you’d like,” you offered to which he nodded, eagerly. so you led him to your bedroom where you noticed that he didn’t look around as much. and it was cute how nervous he really did look.

“these are for you,” he said, finally handing you the bouquet. and you smiled as you thanked him, putting them on your bedside table.

“they’re beautiful... why don’t you sit on my bed so i can go change into something more comfortable,” you said, and he obeyed right away. you couldn’t help but smile to yourself as you entered your bathroom because, yes, you’ve had plenty of guys in your room but something about jake was different.

you felt shy for him and he wasn’t as easy for you to get as all the others. you’d talked with him for months. you got to know him the entire semester. as with all the other guys, you didn’t really have to put in all that much work before having them in your bed.

the moment jake heard the lock of the bathroom door, he let out a sigh he didn’t know he’d been holding in. he wasn’t completely inexperienced and he was never this nervous but he had been trying so hard to forget about his dream that it was hard to focus on anything else.

he looked around now, noting that your room was different than he’d pictured but still fit you so well. and it wasn’t just your pillows but the whole room smelled like you, he was engulfed in it and he loved it.

when you stepped back out in a small pajama set, he felt his heart skip a beat and a tightness in his stomach. and you loved the way he stared at you as you walked up to him. you stood right between his legs and looked down at him innocently.

“what are you thinking, jakey,” you said, placing your hands on his shoulders. he swallowed, dryly, as he looked up into your eyes. he felt like he couldn’t breathe and even though he desperately wanted to, he didn’t think to touch you yet.

“y/n… i really like you. but before anything happens, i wanna say that i don’t want this to be a one time thing,” he admitted, quietly, not breaking eye contact. you nodded, running a hand through his hair, making him close his eyes at your touch.

“trust me, i don’t want it to be one time either,” you said, your hand wrapping around to cup his cheek. he leaned in to your touch but shook his head after a second, looking up into your eyes more seriously this time.

“i mean, i want to take you on dates and i don’t want to see other people. i just wanna be yours… i want you to be just mine,” he said, his eyes nervously watching for your response. you nodded at him with a smile and he felt relieved.

“are you asking to be my boyfriend, sim jaeyun?” you asked, smiling so brightly his shoulders relaxed in response.

“yes i am, what do you say?” he said, a hopeful look in his eyes. you watched his hands messing with the material of his jeans as his leg anxiously bounced.

“hmm…” you started, reaching down to grab both of his hands in yours. he didn’t break eye contact even when you placed his hands on your hips. “i think it took you long enough.”

“is that a yes?” he asked, a smile on his lips as you placed a knee on either side of his thighs. you cupped his face, unable to keep the smile off of your own face.

“yes! now please kiss me already,” you said, more of a demand than a request. and he just smiled as you both leaned in.

your lips finally connecting after having waited for so long. and he was gone right away, you could tell with the way he sighed loudly as you tilted your head for a better angle.

the kiss was messy, probably from his lack of experience, but still heated and passionate from the very start. a desperate moan slipping from his lips when your tongue made its way into his mouth.

you bit at his bottom lip, making eye contact as you pulled it back. with your eyes now open you could see how his chest quickly rose and fell, and how he was begging for you with his eyes.

his hands that were frozen at your hips now moving around to squeeze at your ass. he lifted a hand up to leave a firm smack there, a satisfied smirk on his lips when you let out a small gasp.

“sit back there,” you said, standing up from his lap and pointing to your headboard with your chin. he obeyed quickly as you rummaged through your bedside table for a condom.

he watched you search for a while before, “i- i brought some,” he said, lifting his hips off the bed to take the row of condoms out of his front pocket. a blush dusting his cheeks at his words.

“oh! well i’m glad you came prepared… i was just gonna let you hit it raw,” you said, playfully, crawling back over to him. and he didn’t know how but he just got even harder in his jeans.

you sat back on your knees as you took off your shirt and then bottoms revealing a pretty pink matching set. his mouth felt dry, he licked his lips as he stared down at you. you tilted your head, expectantly, when his eyes finally made their way back up to yours.

he let out a small ‘oh’ when he finally got the hint, taking his shirt off and reaching down to unbutton his pants. you let yourself take a moment and admire his build; his strong shoulders, defined abs, his sculpted thighs flexed as he lifted himself to get his jeans off.

you didn’t know how a shy, nerdy guy like him could be hiding such a build but all you knew was you hit the jackpot. even more so when he sat back against your pillows and his bulge became even more apparent through his underwear. your face heating up now as he watched you eating him up with your eyes.

you situated yourself back over his lap still not sitting down just yet. you leaned down taking his lips in yours and he took the chance to drag his hands along your waist and hips, playing with the lace of your panties.

you could kiss him forever, with his plush lips you really didn’t mind. he seemed to be growing a bit impatient though, pulling your hips down onto his abruptly, causing a moan to rip from your throat as you felt his bulge come into contact with your clothed heat.

he quickly took the chance to slip his tongue into your mouth, grinding up into you repeatedly. you through your head back, letting the soft moans fall from your lips wanting to encourage him more.

“please i’ll do anything you want me to, just tell me,” he said, pressing you flush down onto his cock and holding you there. you dropped your head down onto his shoulder, shaking your head.

“i just wanna ride you, right now,” you said, and he probably gulped but you couldn’t really focus on how cute that was with how huge he felt still pressed up against you.

so as you reached over to rip a condom from the strip he worked on taking both of your bottoms off. still being very gentle with you as he slid them down your legs, admiring every inch of your skin.

as for you, you were right: he was huge. you slid the condom onto his length and he hissed at the contact. once it was on and you lined yourself up, he stopped you one last time to press a kiss to your lips. a sweet kiss that you couldn’t help melt into.

he pressed a kiss on your cheek, down your neck, your shoulder, your chest, your bra, and one last one right above your belly button. he sat back and looked up to give you a satisfied smile, letting you know that you could continue.

you gave his cock a couple strokes and finally slipped his tip right past your lips, causing you both to moan out. he sat up almost immediately and you placed your hands on his shoulders for the extra support.

inch by inch, you took him in until finally you were sat on his lap again. you let out a deep breath and his eyes were squeezed shut as he tried his best to hold back. but all he could think about was how much better this felt than his dream.

“you’re so tight,” he moaned, resting his head onto your shoulder, still managing to place a gentle kiss there. he was holding back so much, he felt so desperate for you. “baby, could you please move a bit?”

the petname falling from his lips so effortlessly, you couldn’t help the moan that slipped out of your mouth as you started to rock yourself back and forth on him. his hands squeezed at the skin of your waist as you let out a breathy ‘yes’, putting his head back on the headboard.

when you finally started to bounce on his cock, he was a whining mess. you thought his moans were pretty, well the whines that left his throat were addictive. you wanted to do whatever you could to keep hearing them.

you lifted yourself all the way to the tip and dropped all the way back down as quick as your legs could take you, grinding onto him in all directions. and he was so perfectly responsive, just what you wanted to hear; the ‘don’t stop’s and ‘feels too good’s leaving him were too encouraging.

you couldn’t bring yourself to stop even as your thighs started to shake because you could feel his cock pulsing inside of you and you wanted to make him cum so badly. but it seemed he had the same idea.

suddenly he lifted your hips off of him, pulling out slowly, a groan falling from both of your lips. he gently laid you back down onto your pillows, not forgetting to place a gentle kiss right at the center of your chest. “… i didn’t get to make you cum,” you said, a bit disappointed.

“i know, pretty,” he said, kissing your pout away, “but i said i’d take care of you.” you felt yourself blush at his words, luckily he was preoccupied with lining himself up again.

“wait,” you said, pushing him back a bit by his chest. you reached down, slowly pulling the condom off of his length and tossing it to the side.

before he could speak again you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, your legs also lifting up to engulf his waist, pulling him closer. his forehead resting on yours as he eyed you curiously, “i want you to come in me,” you said, quietly.

he squeezed his eyes shut, groaning. he kissed you, rougher than all the other kisses before. “you can’t say those kind of things to me, angel, i won’t be able to hold back.”

“please don’t hold back jakey, do whatever you dream of,” you said, your eyes begging. jake swears his heart stopped for a second. he just couldn’t believe it, this was so different from his dream but also so much better.

he took a deep breath, his hand shaking as he lined himself back up at your entrance. when he pushed all the way back in at once, he swore he was in heaven. nothing could compare to how he felt so deep in you right now, so warm and tight. was he having deja vu?

he shook his head, he didn’t have to be reminded of that dream anymore cause this? nothing could beat this.

he thrusted into you hard and fast, immediately setting a brutal pace. and you loved it, not being able to do anything other than scream and moan out his name. he wasn’t much better moaning and muttering praises at your ear.

you scratched at his back helplessly as his thrust somehow got harder, his release definitely building up again. you pulled at his hair, bringing his face in front of yours and smashing your lips together once again. the kiss more intimate in this position, despite both of you being moaning messes.

he reached a hand down to rub circles at your clit, your hand following after to help guide him. he quickly found the rhythm you wanted and matched his thrust to it. you couldn’t believe how good he was already, and couldn’t imagine how this could get any better.

he kissed and sucked at your neck, searching for the spot you liked best, already wanting to familiarize himself with every part of your body. you moaned out his name as you felt the coil in your stomach come undone. finally releasing around him as he continued chasing his own high.

he came soon after as he felt your walls clench around him so tightly, filling you up so perfectly. he held himself up, not wanting to put his full weight on you and gently pulled out when both of your breathing regulated.

he laid down beside you, still in disbelief, his dazed expression making you laugh. he looked over at you with a smile, pulling your chin towards him to place a gentle kiss on your lips. he didn’t think he’d ever get enough of kissing you.

he kissed you again and again, not wanting to pull his lips off of yours. “wait! i need to clean you up,” he said abruptly, sitting up.

“oh yeah, um… there’s a little towel in my bathroom,” you said, rising up onto your elbows. you watched as his eyebows scrunched together and he just shook his head.

“no, i don’t need a towel,” he said, and you couldn’t help but smile at his cute tone… well cute until he was getting comfortable between your legs again, laying down right in front of your leaking core. somehow a sweet, innocent look still on his face.

[tgcg]

ill break your shit adam

warning for adult lang

fuck you adam sandler

youre lucky karkat likes you

stupid fuck sees an amnesiac girl

and asks her can i marry you

that lady got issues mentally

you still down to do shit anally

deplorable zit on the ass of romanza

karkat told me to put that shit in this stanza

do raps even count as having stanzas

slam poetry tyke at preschool im no manza

youd probably jack it to a log with holes if they were wet ones

sitting on that stupid dock with her papa cracking cold ones

piece of shit id push you off that dock and watch you bubbling

kick your ass like her shitty bro failed when you were troubling

penguins dont quack like fucking ducks you dumbass

thats not part of the rap i just think that youre a dumbass

back to the rap sandler i bet you couldnt drop a single bar

too busy picking up stupid women at the stupid women bar

who even let you into hawaii

also did i say karkat liked you i was kidding he wants to kick your heinie

seriously watching that shit again made him start slamming his head into the cushions and screaming i had to pry them out his hands and he almost bit me

sorry i forgot i was rapping again

piece of shit forgot that you can like women while dating other men

still not over that chuck and larry shit adam

if you just said to the gov you were bi you coulda had em

firefighter of the year? well try putting out this heat

karkats gonna beat your ass like you do every night to your meat

gotta ask is this shit wish fulfilment for you

gotta say larry deserved better than you

i could treat him way better than you not in a gay way though

i just mean youre a massive sleaze basically the worlds shittiest bro

back to 50 first dates man sandler your shit is a bore

the stupid bits with schneider got my ass addicted to snore

if i was that stupid walrus id tear your ass to shreds

if i was that penguin i would also tear your ass to shreds

itd be harder but id still do it

bro fuck adam sandler im through it

===

TT: Wow. Bravo, Dave. You've outdone yourself.

TG: i wrote this one exceptionally fucking terrible to represent my inner darkness

TG: i can never unwatch those cinematic fossilized turds theyre like time capsules devoted to everything wrong with america

TG: you dont even understand how egregious that was

TT: I can sense the utter malaise and contempt in every word. It's beautiful.

TT: One particularly interesting point I'd like to make is the fact that you managed to refer to butts in a song about a male target, 10 times in the span of 37 lines. It's not an exorbitant amount, but it appears to be a running theme in your works. Very interesting, if you ask me --

TG: nooooo

TG: nope no

TG: not this shit again

TG: listen one of them is karkats fault

===

CG: ROSE, YOU JUST DON'T FUCKING UNDERSTAND WHAT HE'S DOING HERE AT ALL.

TT: No? Please, enlighten me Karkat.

CG: GLADLY.

CG: HE STARTS OUT WITH THE FRIGGIN WORD "ANAL" PRECEDING ALL OF THE OTHER MENTIONS, OF COURSE IT'S ON PURPOSE. IT INSTILLS THAT IMAGERY IN YOUR NUGBONE THROUGHOUT THE TRACK.

CG: AND YOU MAY HAVE NOTICED A RECURRING USE OF THE WORD "SHIT", IN TANDEM. BOG-STANDARD FOR DAVE, RIGHT? NO! IT'S PART OF THE EFFECT!

CG: MY THESIS: ADAM SANDLER MOVIES ARE PIECES OF ABSOLUTE SHIT AND THE REFERENCES TO WORDS LIKE "LOG" AND "SHIT" AND "ASS" ARE TO INVOKE THE SENSE OF TAKING A MASSIVE DUMP THROUGHOUT THE SPAN OF THE RAP, WHICH BY ALL MEANS WOULD BE AN EQUAL OR GREATER USE OF YOUR TIME THAN WATCHING THOSE MOVIES.

CG: RIGHT, DAVE?

TG: … yeah

TT: Okay, I'm willing to concede to that. On this subject matter, as an avid terrible movie enjoyer, you admittedly know better than myself.

CG: SHOULD KNOW BETTER.

TT: And you love them anyways.

CG: YEAH.

TG: hes right

TG: you hear that shit hes right

TG: fuck death of the author im verifying that interpretation

[hellsitegenetics]

(if this is too long please feel free to just do the "upset? I'm not upset" paragraph lol. The warrior cats fandom will thank you!)

"Your quarrel with Brambleclaw has to stop. Too many moons have passed. You have to accept that I'm Brambleclaw's mate, not yours. You can't keep trying to punish Brambleclaw for something that was always meant to be."

"I couldn't care less about Brambleclaw. It's not his fault he fell for a faithless she-cat. I know you think I've never forgiven Brambleclaw for stealing you from me, but you're wrong, and so is every cat that thinks so. My quarrel is with you, Squirrelflight. It always has been."

"All this was moons ago. Ashfur, I had no idea you were still upset."

"Upset? I'm not upset. You have no idea how much pain I'm in. It's like being cut open every day, bleeding onto the stones. I can't understand how any of you failed to see the blood... […] Stay there! I can't believe you didn't know how much you hurt me. You are the blind one, not Jayfeather. Who do you think sent Firestar the message to go down to the lake, where the fox trap was? I wanted him to die, to take your father away so you'd know the real meaning of pain. [...] Brambleclaw saved Firestar then. But he's not here now. He's not here—but your kits are."

"Enough, Ashfur. Your quarrel is with me. These young cats have done nothing to hurt you. Do what you like with me, but let them out of the fire."

"You don't understand. This is the only way to make you feel the same pain that you caused me. You tore my heart out when you chose Brambleclaw over me. Anything I did to you would never hurt as much. But your kits...If you watch them die, then you'll know the pain I felt."

"Kill them, then. You won't hurt me that way. If you really want to hurt me, you'll have to find a better way than that. They are not my kits."

String identified:

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" c't ca at aca. t' t at a at -cat. t ' g aca tag , t ' g, a cat tat t . a t , gt. t aa a ."

"A t a ag. A, a a t t."

"t? ' t t. a a c a ' . t' g ct a, g t t t. ca't ta a a t t … […] ta t! ca't 't c t . a t , t aat. t t ta t ag t g t t a, t ta a? at t , t ta at aa ' t a ag a. […] aca a ta t. t ' t . ' t —t t a."

"g, A. a t . T g cat a tg t t . at t , t t t t t ."

" 't ta. T t a t a t a a tat ca . t at t c aca . Atg t t a c. t t… atc t , t ' t a t."

" t, t. 't t tat a. a at t t , ' a t a tt a ta tat. T a t t."

Closest match: Eimeria praecox genome assembly, chromosome: 4 Common name: The parasite which causes coccidiosis

[ryescapades]

Hiii!! I was recently reading some of your writings which absolutely slap ‼️

A scenario came to mind after recently reading a webtoon named Pure Villain(which I defo recommend) and I was wondering if i would be able to request a Narumi Gen x Mitsuri!Reader where the reader is a new officer added into the first division and is somehow on par or even stronger than Narumi himself??

And similarly to Mitsuri i was hoping she would have joined the KDF to help find a man and due to her being so strong and what’s better than fining a man who’s part of the KDF!? And for a little prompt if needed then maybe add a moment where Narumi needs support or in trouble with a Kaiju she’s there to help!!

wild heart | kaiju no.8

— sure, you've thought about giving up on love sometimes, but that doesn't mean you had completely lost hope. luckily, narumi is there to burn that hope back aflame.

genre/warning: narumi gen x fem mitsuri!reader, fluff, reader's former division is not mentioned, set in pre-canon timeline (around b-side era probably??)

a/n: sorry for the delay and thank you for the request anon!! hope i got everything down as per your req :> i read a few chapters of pure villain too!! wanted to understand the plotline so that i could write this better. maybe i'll read the rest of it once i'm through w all my other work TT

1.97k wc

"you're amazing and all, y/n-san. but i'm sorry, you're just not my type,"

it's been... what? three times? four? five??? you don't even know. you don't bother keeping track anymore. it's always the same reason in the end. confessing to boys you've had a crush on throughout your adolescent years had become something you would dread every time.

you confessed, they acknowledged your immense strength, how clever you were, and then ended up rejecting you, saying you're not their type. which was utter crap in your opinion. those were definitely backhanded compliments.

you've never pointed that out to them, obviously. you were too nice for that.

regardless still, were they intimidated? did they refuse because you were too strong for them? too strategically intelligent for your age? did they just want a sweet, pretty book smart girl as a partner instead?

or maybe it's just the boys from your old high school who were like that. or the ones from the neutralization college that you used to attend. who the heck knows?

hence growing up, you've learned not to easily be swayed by and get attached to those who were too sweet and too friendly, locking away your fragile heart. if you were to settle down, you'd decided it would be with someone who is as strong, as capable and as brilliant as you are. an equal, if not more.

"starting today, all of you here will officially be appointed as defense force officers,"

and where else can you find such a capable partner if not the jakdf?

assigned as the representative of your batch after scoring the highest in most categories, everyone in the division admired you. you were sweet, kind and passionate in your job. not once have you gone a day without expressing your compassion and honest praises to others.

even your superiors admitted you were one of a kind, a talent so outstanding they almost offered you a high-ranked position if not for your current lack of experience in the field at that time.

as you progressed further in the division, you'd become close to your fellow officers. fighting and training alongside them, getting to know them better as you worked together during missions to neutralize kaiju. but alas, none of those you've met in the defense force ever caught your eye. they were astoundingly strong, sure. but no one has been it for you.

along the way, you'd almost gave up in believing that love was ever meant for you, now only focusing on honing your own talents and relishing the satisfaction of getting to save people from the monsters using said skills. it was only until one day you were conveyed a message to meet with your captain, though you were initially not informed of what business you were called for.

“you wanted to see me, captain?” you greet just as you enter the office, the usual shy and sweet smile plastered on your face.

"i received a letter from the headquarters. it's addressed to you," your captain says, handing over a piece of parchment paper.

you eyes rove over the lines of formal sentences as soon as you have the letter in your hands, eventually they widen upon registering the words in your head. "a transfer offer to the first division?" you ponder, fingers idly tracing the ink swirls.

your captain eyes you for a quick moment before speaking, "you should accept it. it's not often that the higher-ups themselves offer a place in the first division. it's a place for the elites, after all. not to mention they'd freshly appointed a new captain there," the almost-grimace in their expression at that last sentence does not go unnoticed by you.

your eyebrows raise in bewilderment, "must be someone extra, extra capable to be replacing captain shinomiya,"

"oh, he's capable, alright..." you hear your soon-to-be former captain mutter quietly, causing you to wonder just what kind of person the first division's new captain is.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

you don't even get to meet your new captain.

hell, you don't even get to introduce yourself to any of the first division members because as soon as you had arrived in koto ward which houses the ariake maritime base, there's already a kaiju attack happening.

you're about ten minutes drive away from the base when you were notified to engage in battle, quickly suiting up and your rifle at the ready as the vehicle you're in immediately changes direction to head towards the location of the attack.

an unfamiliar voice pings in your earpiece. "officer y/n? i'm hasegawa eiji, vice-captain of the first division. firstly, i'd have to apologize that you're not exactly receiving the best welcome to the base right now but we clearly have more pressing matters here,"

your head perks up at that. "no, vice-captain. i'm perfectly fine with it. if anything, i could maybe see how my skills can stack up with the best of the best there is," you say with a giddy smile growing on your face, barely holding in a squeal out of pure excitement..

there's a small chuckle before your new superior continues, "i hope you won't end up disappointed then. feel free to take down any yoju you see on the way here. i wish you luck, officer."

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

on the other side of the battlefield, narumi frowns as he stands perched on the edge of the bridge, looking over the kaiju in the distance.

the yoju is easy enough to handle. shoot the core, bam, dead. the honju, however, is quite a hassle to deal with. it's fast, incredibly fast. sure, narumi's RT-0001 is able to detect synaptic impulses and produce foresight, but that doesn't mean it's any easier when there's two of the same speedy type of kaiju raging around in the area.

it's even more of a hassle when those two looming honjus response almost similarly to the other, as if their minds are one and the same. what are they, freak twins or something? narumi scoffs, running a hand through his bicolored hair and shaking off the dust from his combat suit where he nearly got crushed twice consecutively between two humongous fists, one from each of the twin kaiju.

well, nothing his ridiculously immense power couldn't beat, actually. but still, it'd have been nice if there's something...— his thoughts are interrupted by a loud gunshot to his right, his head quickly snapping to the side in search of a potential threat.

narumi's expression switches to a mix of a surprise and a little confusion, staring at what seems to be an officer who has her hand holding a... winch cable? he glances at the tow truck nearby, taking note of the slight burnt mark at the spot where the winch cable is supposed to be attached to the crane.

what the heck is that person doing? he thinks incredulously.

when you first shot the pulley that once held the cable in place, you didn't think your plan would work. it's kind of impulsive and a bit suicidal if you were to carry it out alone, you'd thought. but there's nothing else you can come up with, so you end up proceeding with it.

grabbing a dagger strapped on the side of your thigh, you manage to tie several overhand knots with the cable around the hilt before straightening up, bracing yourself for your next action.

"i really shouldn't be doing this... i don't have a death wish. i don't! i'm not even married yet. i can't die now!" you rant to yourself, taking a deep breath. you don't notice that a certain captain is staring at you clumsily fussing to yourself from afar, he himself jolting in shock when you land a harsh slap on your own puffed cheeks, as if sensing the pain himself.

you let out one last exhale before swiftly making your move, dashing forwards with the cable-tied dagger in your hand. your plan consists of only two moves; stab and wrap. stab the dagger into the leg of one of the kaiju, and then with your agility, wrap the cable around both its legs to hinder its movement.

you succeed in doing those two steps, of course. now who's going to get the second honju while you kill the first one? the cable isn't long enough to cover both giants. you could only pray that there's someone around strong enough to do that...

and pray you did.

because as soon as one of the honju had fallen down from having both its legs trapped together, you almost didn't notice the figure rushing forwards beside you, taking the same stance as you ready your rifle, pulling the trigger to finally finish off the first fallen honju at the same time the person next to you pulls his, two explosive gunshots ringing at the same time throughout the area.

the twin monsters fall dead simultaneously, blood pouring out of the large gaping holes as you stagger slightly, not aware of the overuse of your high combat power. a sudden but warm hand immediately grip your bicep, startling you from your exhaustion.

"how did you—?" narumi's astonished. you're so... powerful. you're also flexible and quick on your feet, maneuvering yourself around the stomping feet of the twin kaiju with so much ease. that blow you delivered with your measly rifle was almost as lethal as his own bayonet. probably the same type as ashiro, he wonders.

he stops for a second when he gets a good look on your face. "you're the newbie, aren't you?" he realizes as you too, survey him and his appearance with curious eyes. one thought comes to your mind almost right off the the bat when your sparkling eyes land on him.

"pretty..."

"... what?"

"what?"

the two of you stare at each other, dumbstruck for a moment. the man's cheeks flare, heat creeping up his neck that has your pupils zeroing on them out of pure fascination. "you just said i'm— i..." he sputters, causing you to finally grasp what you had just said. "oh my! sorry, i didn't mean to say that out loud," your own cheeks flush slightly, though your apology doesn't really sound like you mean it at all.

"you— you know what, nevermind! if i wasn't such a nice captain, i would've questioned you for your lack of respect! now report yourself to me, officer!" he fumes, still feeling the abnormal heat under his skin.

your mouth gapes at his statement, your mind backtracking to the fight earlier and remembering how he had quickly yet silently arrived to your aid when you most needed it, how eruptive his killing shot had been, how big and strong his hand felt when he steadied you. of course he's a captain, out of all things.

the sound of heavy footsteps approaching you interrupts both of your predicament. "ah, i see you've met the latest addition to our squad. narumi, allow me to introduce you to your new division member, officer y/n," the burly older man who you assume to be hasegawa states, sending a respectful nod towards your direction.

you've only heard of the name in passing, never seen the person himself as you were constantly stuck in your old division, never really had the chance to venture out on faraway missions and he was barely an icon only until recently. the most naturally talented soldier, on his way to become the strongest combatant of japan's defense force.

and he's your captain.

you don't bother looking at the second-in-command, too engrossed in observing the utterly gorgeous specimen of a man that is narumi gen. your heart thunders against your ribcage, the vibration steady yet tumultuous as if it's trying to free the organ from the chains binding around it.

he's it. he's the one for you. you just know it.

not a narumi fic of mine if it doesn't consist of at least one(1) blushing narumi lol /hj

©🅁🅈🄴🅂🄲🄰🄿🄰🄳🄴🅂. do not steal, translate or repost my work anywhere else !

[sohnric]

gold stars – e. sohn

pairing: eric sohn x fem! reader

genre: friends (idiots) to lovers au. fluff. a sprinkle of hurt/comfort in some parts, a hint of college au!!

wc: 9.3k

warnings: mentions of alcohol, swearing, mention of toxic family behaviors, a joke about a praise kink. eric is an embarrassing loserboy but i love him sm

listen to: risk by gracie abrams

where everything eric sohn does is search for your approval, and where you reward him with a gold star sticker for every act of kindness. will you ever see him as more than just a friend?

a/n: thank you best friend @csenke for beta reading as always (i miss you deeply btw</33). also thank you @from-izzy for brainstorming with me and listening to me while i gushed about this silly fic idea. thanks @strayed-quokka lennon for giving me eric's insta username idea i will keep using it from now on in all fics AHAHA TT

If Eric was asked to pinpoint the exact moment where he started to rely on your validation, he wouldn’t really be sure of his answer. The truth is, somewhere deep inside of his soul, he knows the yearning has been there ever since he can remember, but the instance that is rooted in his memory as the core one– the one that made him feel all warm and fuzzy inside, like a teenager in love for the first time (which he wasn’t! Nor a teenager, not in love for the first time… right..?) – was one Thursday afternoon after he came home from taking his last exam of the semester to find a message from you waiting in his Instagram DMs. 

Breathlessly clicking at the notification (and now, this should’ve been a sign of his growing feelings for you), he is welcomed with the sight of you sharing a post with him. Wholesome, but still a little silly, a picture of a yellow star poorly drawn onto a white background waves at him, the words ‘congratulation the stress didnt abolsultly kill u’ written in the Comic Sans font on the inside, making him giggle. Despite the typos and the poor grammar, his heart squeezes on itself, shaking his head at your adorable antics as he shoots you a quick message as a thank you. You’ve been helping him with the studies for the last couple of weeks (if constantly yelling out “you will murder this exam, Sohn’ and laughing at his miserable face counts as support), so it’s even more heartwarming to see his friend still be so supportive of him even after the hell already ended.

@ damnsohn [5:11 PM]: thank u i will now need to receive gold stars for everything tho

And see, he wasn’t really thinking before sending that message. He just needed to convey his gratitude without sounding too overly eager– without sounding too infatuated with your sheer existence and the validation of his efforts. (Failed)

What he didn’t expect was for you to actually follow up on his request. 

To make things even better, you pulled through with physical reminders. The poorly drawn golden star landing into his Instagram DMs was just the start of the habit you fall into with Eric Sohn, the man whose love language is words of affirmation– without him even realizing it. And so, what started out as a wholesome, innocent joke, now turned into a recurring thing that is slowly, but surely making the boy go absolutely insane.

The first time he receives a physical golden star sticker is one day when he comes over to your place to watch a movie with you. You made a list full of iconic films you haven’t seen before– a list you get clowned for at first dates with any man that is pretentious enough to talk about his love for Quentin Tarantino (Eric told you to stop going on dates with the aesthetic, ‘indie’ looking men you find on Tinder) – and little by little, you try to get through it with the help of the rest of your friend group. Since everyone gets bored easily of mediocre films they’ve seen before, Eric is the one that spends the majority of movie nights with you– and that’s only because he’s the only one that doesn’t mind watching the Titanic for the fifth time already, if it means he can spend some time with you.

“You brought popcorn?” you gasp upon his arrival, gazing at the plastic bag in his hold, eyes big and full of stars– one would say you were looking at your first love. You weren’t– it was just a salty treat. Isn’t that every girl’s first love, though?

“Yeah,” he nods.

“Pre-popped?” 

“Pre-popped,” he agrees as he takes off his shoes behind the door, watching as you jump up and down in excitement, taking the big bag out of his hands.

“I like it pre-popped the best, oh my god,” you hum, hugging the huge bag like it’s a teddy bear, going as far as pushing your cheek against it, making your face turn into an adorable pout. “They are a little stale and softer and–”

“And the salt is really settled into it’, yeah, I know, Y/N,” he snickers, finishing the sentence he’s heard you say about a million times already– he starts to wonder if you have short-term memory loss and don’t remember telling him every time you walk by the cinema. (And that’s a lot of times, since Sunwoo’s dad owns the place. Sometimes, Sunwoo makes Eric be his own delivery man– he would deny on most occasions, but ever since he learned that bringing Sunwoo his lunch to work means he can take home a bag of cinema popcorn, the one that admittedly, always tastes the best, he doesn’t complain much– he can use the stale bag as a leverage to make you do about anything.)

“Oh man,” you sigh, “aren’t you a dream. I was going to wait for a more serious occasion, but wait, let me just–” you say, running quickly into your room. Eric doesn’t question your antics, figuring out that he will know the reason for your disappearance soon enough anyway, and allows himself into the living room. Two cans of coca cola and a chocolate bar are already waiting on the coffee table, alongside the TV remote, and while he passes the couch and opens one of your kitchen cabinets to fish for a bowl to put the popcorn in, he hears your socked feet rumble against the floor, announcing your arrival.

Once he takes the big bowl he’s sure he’s seen you puke in before after a wild night out and settles it onto the kitchen counter, the bag of popcorn comes back into his view as you lazily throw it into the white plastic, still closed and sealed, waiting to be opened. As his hands move and go to rip it open, meaning to pour the snack in so you two can share while you watch the next movie on your list– which, just for the record, Eric never asks the title of before, afraid it might make him less excited for the movie night– you put something onto the back of his hand, giggling.

Eric curiously stops his movements, gazing at his own skin. There, shiny and glittery, is a sticker attached to his limb– a yellow star sticker, to be exact, making him look at you with a dumbfounded look, eyebrows furrowed, but lips still sealed into a wide grin.

“That’s a gold star for remembering my favorite snack,” you point, flicking his forehead as a way of swatting him away from you so you can open the bag yourself, “and for bringing it.”

When Eric doesn’t give you any coherent reply– despite his brain operating on a thousand miles per hour, thoughts just swirling around and silencing any rational words– you only laugh at his face, your nose scrunching in that adorable way that makes him want to reach over and squish both of your cheeks in between his fingers, crying out. 

“Wow, I didn’t know you were so serious about this,” you sigh, snickering. Eric was going to bring up the fact that you were the one serious enough about the sentiment to buy a full roll of star stickers to give him on various occasions, some more serious than others, but he kept his silence in fear of getting this advantage taken away from him. He doesn’t think he’d survive it. “If you manage to not eat the entire bowl before the movie starts, I’ll give you another one. Come on,” you call for him, body already disappearing back into the living room.

Eric follows you like a lost puppy. If he had a tail, at this moment, he would’ve been waggling it. After he drops to the sofa, he notices the movie paused on the TV in front of him to be none other than Dirty dancing. With a sigh, he recognises that he’s seen it about five times already with his mother and sister, and so he spends the hour and a half gazing at the star on his hand instead.

The next few stars he receives are gifts of a similar manner. Half-serious, but still enough to make Eric’s heart leap in his chest at your recognition.

One day, he says a joke in the middle of the conversation that nobody really appreciates. And see, it’s not really unexpected– he was already aware that his friend group doesn’t appreciate good humor– but the dead silence he receives after the lame joke still makes him feel kind of awkward. That’s only until he is greeted with the sound of your muffled chuckle, though– which is of amusement at the situation, and not his joke, just for the record– and the sight of you ruffling around your pockets. You take a roll of stickers out of your jean jacket, and before he knows it, a star sticker is glued onto his phone case, right in the corner of his phone laying screen down on the table. 

“A gold star for trying,” you hum, making the rest of the group holler out a laugh at the casual bullying, “not as bad as last time, keep it up, buddy.”

Eric gets red in his cheeks. When he looks up from the dark wood of the dinner table, he is met with the sight of Sunwoo and Juyeon looking at him with shit-eating grins on his faces, wiggling their eyebrows at the very obvious reaction Eric has at the half-assed praise. The boy wonders if you’re the only one that hasn’t noticed yet, or if you just don’t really care about the effect you have on him. The star sticker stays glued to his phone case at all times, though, even when it’s worn-down and peeling off at the edges.

Another gold star is won from you one day when the semester starts again and you two meet up in the library, working on your respective essays. Each of you major in a different thing, so there is not much actual help shared other than underlying emotional support, and despite the coffee Eric brings you upon his arrival and the bag of chips resting on the table waiting for you to munch on them, which you refuse to touch before you finish a segment of your essay to ‘motivate yourself’, as you say, he can see you’re still a bit stressed out.

The suspicion is only proven to be true when he speaks up suddenly, lost in thought and a little overwhelmed himself. “How do you spell ‘accommodate’?” he asks, scratching the back of his head.

He now admits that it’s a stupid question to ask, but somehow, getting advice from you is much easier than looking it up himself, or simply writing the word down to let Google docs do the editing. The answer you give him is short, sharp, and the tone of your voice stings the boy the tiniest bit. “Are you 5 years old, or something?”

“I–”

“I’m in the middle of writing an important paragraph, Eric, just Google it–”

“Jeez, okay,” he hums, rolling his eyes at your snappy composure. When your eyes meet only two seconds after, you look a little guilty. You say nothing, though, only continuing to focus on your essay– and Eric does the same, for the most part. (While he also tries to take his mind off the fact that you might think he’s a little bit stupid. You are a STEM major, after all– he’s the one studying media.)

After a while of typing away on your computer, though, you look at him with big eyes, chewing on the bottom of your lip. The subtle nerves and desperation in your face are enough to leave the man weak in his knees, and even though he’d like to reply to you in a similar manner to show you his disapproval with your previous tone, he can’t find it in himself to ever reject you as you mumble out a soft: “Switch?” having the man instantly nod, offering you his laptop.

This is standard practice for the two of you. While he doesn’t really know what you’re talking about in your essays– for all he knows, you could be pulling everything out of your ass– he enjoys reading the words you’ve written. You two often work on your essays together and switch from time to time to reread what the other one has so far– on a lookout for wrong word order, grammar, or anything sounding weird. It’s hard to rationally evaluate your work and find flaws in it after spending hours and hours on it, your brain desensitized to the content you’re writing. Having a helping pair of eyes is always for the better.

When the both of you are done and you switch the laptops back, there’s a gold sticker smiling back at him from the device settled right next to the Kirby sticker you’ve given him once after hearing him gushing about the game one night (Yes, he was tipsy and sentimental). He didn’t even notice you putting it on, and when he looks up at you with questioning eyes, you shrug at him, averting eye contact.

“A gold star for spelling ‘accommodate’ right,” you say, making the boy roll his eyes, snickering.

He doesn’t really question you further. Just the star sticker is enough for him now, if he’s being totally honest– even as unserious as they come. Had he pried more, though, maybe he’d find out that the gold star wasn’t just the prize for his spelling– but also for his patience and silent support he’s been sending you every single day. 

And so, the habit preserves itself at first in a joking, half-serious manner. A gold star sticker for him when he reminds you to water your plants (‘for having a good memory’). A gold sticker for him when he carries you home on his back after you get too drunk at the bar with your friends (‘for having strong muscles’). A star sticker for him when he picks you up after work and drives you home (‘for having a cool car’). Another one when he cooks you ramen when you’re sick and don’t have enough energy to make yourself something warm for dinner (‘for being a 5* Michelin cook’). For his birthday, alongside with other things, you give him a strip of the gold star stickers, 5 in a row all next to each other– ‘for bearing the old age well’. He’s not even that much older than you in the first place, but he takes the external validation and praise with open arms, not really dwelling deeper into the sentiment underlying your joking, unserious reasonings. 

He doesn’t really realize the stickers were a sign of gratitude for the fact that he listens to you and remembers what you have to say– not for having a good memory. They are for taking care of you on your lowest– not for having strong arms and a ‘fat ass’. They are a wordless thank you for his acts of service and protection of you, not for having a cool car and getting his driver’s license– although, the pride is the common undertone in some of the gold stars you give him. You give him gold stars on his birthday to tell him you’re proud of the man he’s growing into, not to make fun of him growing old. The boy is just too oblivious to realize it, it seems.

Some days are more difficult than others, though, and that’s when your star stickers gain more value and seriousness. 

The day after he has a family reunion with the distant relatives that always pry too much into his business– ‘Do you have a girlfriend yet?’, ‘What will you end up doing with that useless degree of yours?’, ‘Do you still share a flat with that friend of yours? What about getting your own place?’ – he is met with the sight of you waiting for him after class, on one of the bean bags outside of the lecture room. His department is a solid 20 minute walk away from yours, so the sight of you there surprises him, but the shock is only intensified when you call him over with a wave of your hand and present him with a pack of M&M’s with a gold star stuck to the packaging.

“What’s that for?” he says, but opens the candy nonetheless. After he takes a few into his mouth, he offers you some– to which you shake your head and shrug.

“For being the coolest one out of your family,” you say close to his ear, like it’s a secret, before you ruffle his hair and stand up from the bean bag, strutting towards the exit. “Come on, I have beer over at my place. You can come over and rant about them being stupid, if you want.”

Eric smiles at your sincerity. Trying hard to tame his hair back into place, he follows you with his backpack hanging off one of his shoulders, and even though he’d love to finish the candy you’ve given him, he forces himself to leave at least three pieces inside of the bag, saving it for later– just so he can keep holding on to the star-adorning wrapper for some more.

One day is particularly hard for the boy as he locks himself out of the apartment, having to wait for his roommate Jake to come back from his hometown the other day, leaving him no place to stay– before you invite him over and force him to sleep over on the couch. You can tell there is something more bugging him, though– and so you push the boy for answers.

“What’s up? Locking yourself out is not the end of the world, y’know,” you say, trying to lighten up the situation.

Eric looks at you with tired eyes, shrugging. Truth be told, his mood has been gradually falling over the last couple of days– this incident was just what really tipped him over the edge and nudged him closer to a nervous breakdown. He’s been overwhelmed with work (too many people having high expectations of him that he is scared he cannot meet), with school (too many assignments he is afraid he can’t manage to get done in time) and also with his family constantly being at his neck about everything he does and chooses for his future– only fueling the burning pit of anxiety and insecurity crawling outside of the big hole inside of his chest.

“It’s nothing,” still, he notes. “I’ve just been having a bit of a rough time, really, ‘s all.”

You answer him with a slight pout of your lips, a saddened expression taking over your face. There is sympathy oozing off your presence, and Eric can’t tell if he dislikes it, or yearns too much for your caring words and gentle encouragement. He can’t tell if it’s natural or pathetic, to want, to need your compliments and validation so much– or if he’s just fallen into a hole he can’t crawl back out of, too hungry after every bit of your attention. You’ve completely enchanted the boy, made his heart both soft and erratically running whenever you’re around, and the things he constantly does for you are not only because he wants you to tell him he’s doing well, but also because he wants you to think of him as someone that you can lean on. He wants you to think of him as someone good enough for you. 

Today, though, maybe he just needs a bit of validation. Maybe he just selfishly strives for your encouragement. It’s okay to just want to be loved on from time to time, no?

You coo, taking a seat next to him on the sofa you’ve spent countless movie nights on together, slotted side by side. Eric plays with his fingers in his lap, a heavy cloud hanging over his face. You know your friend isn’t really good at talking about his emotions– something akin to a mental block inside of him preventing him from ever fully opening up– but despite it all, it seems like he’s completely see-through in your eyes, handling you all the unspoken words on a silver platter. You know him too well.

“You’re doing well, Eric. Don’t let the doubts get into your head, yeah?” you hum, meeting eyes with the boy. 

“Am I, though?” 

The face you give him is stern, acting upset with him. “Of course you are! Stop saying that,” you shake your head at him, sighing when he doesn’t comply with your hard love. After a heartbeat of silence, you turn your head away from him and face the turned-off TV, instinctively wrapping your arm around the boy first, tucking him to your side, before you cradle his head and move it so it sits in the crook of your shoulder. 

Patting his hair, ruffling it and gently playing with the strands before you move to scratch on his scalp, the actions all unarm the poor boy. He almost feels like he could cry and fall apart right there in front of you, right there in your hold, but his pride is oftentimes bigger than his need to let it all out– so he just stares ahead of him, teething at his bottom lip in silence.

After a moment, you rustle around your pocket with your free hand, seemingly searching for something. Eric watches you with curious eyes, big eyes reminiscent of ponds of water waiting to overflow when you take out a strip of star stickers from the inside of your sweatpants, gently taking one of them and sticking the golden star onto the fabric of his pants, right on his knee, before patting it affectionately.

“What’s that for?” he asks, voice a bit hoarse. He’s glad you don’t mention it.

“Just in general,” you shrug, hand coming back up to play with his hair, “a gold star because I’m proud of you.”

“There’s nothing to be proud of, though..?”

“Of course there is!” you argue, raising your voice at him. He doesn’t make much effort to show you that he agrees or understands your point, so you gently take his hand into yours and wave it around in mock-joy– although you’re kind of serious about the sentiment. “Proud of you, because you’re alive and surviving! Yay!”

Eric snorts. It’s not enough to cure his mood completely, but it warms his heart up enough to make him forget about his tears.

“Do you just carry these on you at all times?” he asks, pointing towards the sticker on his leg.

“You never know when you need them,” you innocently agree. After your continuous doting, the boy finds himself falling asleep on your shoulder. When he wakes up in the morning, there’s a blanket thrown over his body he didn’t see in the room before, and he feels a thousand times better.

So far, Eric’s never asked for the gold star stickers. They always come to him by your initiative– and although he has to admit that sometimes he does stuff for you and expects a reward for it (in the form of the sticker, of course) – he never once begged to receive one himself. Sometimes, you surprise him. Sometimes, it’s obvious there is one coming– like after he helps you send out your psychology survey to every single person he knows (and he knows a lot of them. He is a born extrovert, after all.). 

Much like the day of his football match. 

He’s not really the biggest fan of the sport– he much prefers baseball, but his university no longer has a baseball team and he needs to get additional credit somehow– but when you add up the fact that it makes him popular with the fact that he ends up spending time playing around the field with his friends and over the course of the season gets actually better at the sport the more he practices, it’s not as bad as he expected.

The last match of the season turned out well– with their team winning– and although Eric wasn’t the one in charge of the winning goal (damn Kim Sunwoo and Jake Sim for collectively beating him to the victory), he was still ecstatic about the whole thing. After celebrating with his teammates, dubbing them up and screaming in victory, his eyes scan the crowd to find the rest of his friend group that he knows is there, watching him and Sunwoo play. (In reality, he’s just looking for you– he won’t admit that out loud, though.)

Running up to you with sparkles in his eyes, he watches as you cheer on your other friend, Sunwoo, when he beats him to the bleachers. (Not cool of him, if you ask Eric. His crush is literally right there.)

The taller boy enthusiastically talks about the match– as if you, Jihoon, Ryujin and Jay haven’t been on the bleachers the whole time, watching– and after a while, Eric hears your enthusiastic praise aimed towards his best friend, making his blood turn green in envy.

“Yo, that goal was so good, though!” you gush, patting Sunwoo on the shoulder.

“I know, right? Jake passed the ball to me in the perfect time, that other guy couldn’t even register what was happening,” he boosts, grinning to himself.

All attention is drawn on Kim Sunwoo, and Eric doesn’t like it. Not when it’s your attention we’re talking about. He doesn’t care if the whole university drools over the handsome fire sign (as if he doesn’t have a girlfriend anyway– although Eric is still surprised by the fact, after the way he treated the part-timer at his father’s movie theater in the first few weeks of their acquaintance). Believe me, Eric is completely content standing in the shadow whenever someone gushes about Kim Sunwoo, the star player of the team– until you’re involved, of course.

So, he sulks. And it’s apparent– or at least he thinks so. It doesn’t seem to clock in with any of his friends, though, as they all walk away from the football field, aiming to celebrate together in the cheap restaurant downtown. Eric walks behind the group like a lost puppy, and it takes exactly 5 minutes and 35 seconds (not that he’s counting) for you to finally notice the absence of his lame jokes and loud comments to just about everything.

“What’s up?” you ask when you trail behind the group to join his side, laughing at the pout on his face. “You look like you just lost the match. Which you didn’t. Not sure if you caught that…” you joke, bumping your hips with him.

“Well, you seem to be acting like it,” he comments, his words leaving a sour taste in your mouth.

“Huh?” you ask, genuine confusion tinting your expression. “We’re literally going to celebrate, I don’t get what you– is this because you want that stupid star sticker?” you cut yourself off mid-sentence, the boy already too readable to you after so much time.

Eric gasps in shock. He’s not really sure what he wanted out of mentioning it so openly to you, but to be called out like this surely wasn’t on the list. He feels heat rising to his cheeks with lightning speed, his eyes averting your gaze in the instant. Maybe the voices inside of his head were right. Maybe he is embarrassing.

“Well,” he shrugs, only digging the hole under himself deeper, “did I not do well too?” he mutters under his breath, the humiliation fully settling into his bones after you laugh straight at his face.

“Wow…” you hum, shaking your head in disbelief. “If I knew I was fueling your praise kink this much with the stickers, I would’ve stopped a long time ago–”

“I don’t have a praise kink–” he screams, battling you as you suddenly scramble after him with the sticker on your finger, waiting to be plastered somewhere onto his figure. He’s sure the whole commotion heard his poor attempt at defending himself, but he’s not willing to back down without a fight– anything to prove that he doesn’t depend on the stickers as much as one would think. He doesn’t want the sticker anymore. He doesn’t need it.

As you fight him and womanhandle him on the street, though, hands all over him, trying to get close as he desperately tries to push you away and fight the allegations, he finds himself unarmed when you get in close proximity of his body, pushing him against the wall. He’s sure he has more muscle power than you do, but the mental power in him is lacking– he just can’t make himself push you away from him. Your face is close to his, your breathing tickling his nose. His heart is stammering hard against his chest, your hands still clutching his wrists against the wall, making him feel like a horny teenager. His breathing is heavy– he doesn’t think he’s done much physical labor, though?

Before he has a chance to collect himself and physically unglue his eyes off your lips– glossy and pink, inviting him in– you make the boy’s brain short circuit even further when you lean close to his ear, whispering so no one else can hear.

“Jealousy doesn’t suit you, by the way.”

You know just which buttons to push. Maybe you’re a bit sadistic– with how knowledgeable you are of his feelings, but of how much you’re enjoying him being completely oblivious to the fact that you’re aware. You have him at your mercy, all yours to keep, his heart all yours to play with and scan in the palm of your hands.

A star sticker is pressed into the skin below his ear, right at the pulse point. With that, you unstick yourself from the boy, running back to the rest of the group. It takes Eric a moment to collect himself enough to rejoin his friends– so much he has to run (which is good, in hindsight– at least he has something to blame for his breathlessness)– but after this, he swears he’s never asking for validation from you ever again.

It’s too dangerous.

Almost as dangerous as you trying to ride his skateboard for the first time, it seems. He’s met with the fact only two weeks after the football match. When you texted him and convinced him you’re going to be fine and that he should definitely bring the board with him when you hang out later in the day– ‘I’m not a five year old, I can handle it! I bet it’s going to be fun!’ – he didn’t really expect you to be this bad at it. You seemed a little too confident for him to believe otherwise, and, well, in Eric’s eyes, you are perfect at just about everything. 

This really shattered the image of you he had in his mind. Not in a bad way, no– the man has and always will worship the sheer ground you walk on– it’s just that more than admiration, the feeling flowing through his veins right now seems to be adoration. Eric always admired your every move, every single sentence that ever came out of your mouth. But now, he just can’t seem to contain himself as he watches you stumble over your own feet and try to balance yourself on the unmoving skateboard in the middle of the empty park, hands waving around your figure in a desperate need to not fall over and break your neck. (Which would never happen under Eric’s watch anyway. His reflexes are fast.)

“You look like a baby learning how to walk for the first time,” he gushes from the bench, your bags waiting at his feet. A wide grin is plastered onto his face as he watches you, his cheeks beginning to hurt from the constant stretch of the muscles.

“Very funny,” you sigh, stumbling over once again, making the board move with the kinetic motion of you stepping off of it, leaving Eric to stop it with his outstretched leg.

“You were so confident before,” he shakes his head, mocking you.

“Well, I tend to overestimate my abilities sometimes,” you shrug, a pout slowly appearing on your face as you move closer towards the male, obviously going to sit at the bench next to him. “It’s whatever, I don’t feel like skateboarding anymore–”

“You’re giving up already?” 

“Yes.”

“No, you’re not,” he shakes his head, standing up and offering you his hand to take so he can bring you back up to your feet, “never back down, never what?”

“Eric, I’m not going to finish your TikTok references right now–”

“I said never back down never what?!” he hollers, forcefully tugging you to a standing position, the sigh escaping your lips only fueling him further with his ridiculous antics. “Never give up! That’s right, Y/N, very well. Now, let me help you, I promise it’s not as hard as it seems.”

“I mean, given the fact that even you can do it–”

Eric flashes you a stone cold look as a warning. He doesn’t really think the teasing is at place right now– you’re the one not capable of keeping balance on the skateboard. It’s not like you have any right to joke right now.

“Okay, I take it back.”

“Leave the jokes for when your legs don’t look like a freshy born horse’s with how much they’re shaking when you’re up on this thing, yeah?” he chuckles, hearing you snort out a laugh at the accuracy of his comment.

Eric should’ve known he was the one miscalculating his abilities to efficiently teach you how to skateboard before the act itself happened. He didn’t, though, and the thought only occurred to him the moment you started latching onto him like a koala to its favorite tree– all just so you could hold balance on the board beneath your feet.

Your legs are a little shaky– and so are Eric’s hands when they instinctively land on your waist as you latch onto his shoulders, steadying yourself. The boy is painfully aware of the layers of clothing preventing him from touching your bare skin, yet, his fingertips still tingle as they bear into your midriff, holding you steady and preventing you from falling.

“Now, this isn’t so hard,” you conclude, chuckling. Eric doesn’t find it in himself to look up at your face, knowing he’d go painfully red the second your eyes would meet. The close proximity of your body still makes him shy sometimes, despite the years of friendship you share, and so he keeps his gaze glued to the ground instead, clearing his throat before he speaks up again, trying to seem nonchalant and casual.

“I’ll move now, yeah?”

Without really waiting for your reply, his feet shift their position on the ground, dragging you across the road with him. Gentle steps at first, making sure you’re not too overwhelmed, then picking up speed so you move a little faster on the board. “Will you be okay if I let go?”

“I don’t know..? Hopefully…?” you say, voice wavering a little, nerves seeping through your tone.

“I’ll catch you if you fall, don’t worry,” he hums, feeling how you squeeze his shoulders for one last time before he lets go of your waist, watching the way you slide away on the skateboard. The pace isn’t too fast, yet, it’s still enough to make you grin widely at the boy, your body now used to the feeling, balance finally finding its way to you. 

“Do you want me to push you around for a bit?” he offers, relishing in the way you nod eagerly at him, the grin on your face making his heart squeeze on itself. If he could carve the muscle out of his chest and offer it to you, he would. In his eyes, you deserve everything in this world– how could he not just try and give it to you, little by little, all by himself?

Light steps nearing your figure, he gently pushes you in the back, watching as you slide farther and farther away from him. Every time he gently nudges you in the right direction, he earns himself a hearty giggle from you, the motion making you feel free and reckless– just like teenagers do when discovering the activity for the first time. “I was right! It’s fun!”

Eric can feel himself relishing in the moment fully. Your smile is the prettiest thing he’s ever seen, and he wishes he could engrave the sight of it into his memory forever. He knows that’s not possible, though, and so he pledges to try his hardest to make it appear on your face so much and so often that he has no chance to forget how it looks.

After you’re done and exhausted with the day, Eric makes it his quest to get you home safely before heading to his place. You complain about your feet hurting, and although the boy is doubtful of your whining, he still offers to drag you home as you stand on the skateboard, holding your hand the whole way. When he’s almost at your apartment complex, he feels the familiar star sticker glued to the back of his hand before you intertwine your fingers with his, running a thumb proudly over the gold plastic.

“A gold star for being a good teacher,” you note when your eyes meet, making the boy chuckle.

“Shouldn’t I be giving you one for being a good student? Is that not how things usually work?” 

“I give credit where credit is due,” you hum, nodding to yourself. “Besides, that’s not only for that. I just…” you trail off, as if too nervous to say the next words. “I just wanted to show gratitude to you, ‘cause I had a really good time today,” you say nonchalantly, still, shrugging. Eric feels his stomach churning. How can you be so casual with saying words that make his heart skip a beat?

“I should show my gratitude to you more often too, y’know.”

You shake your head at him, laughing like it’s funny. “Oh, Eric. You do it so often you don’t even realize it. You just have a different way of showing it than I do.”

Eric averts his gaze from you, chewing on his bottom lip in nervousness. He starts to wonder if he’s been too obvious with his feelings. Do you see him differently now?

The questions almost drown him out on the way towards your house. Somewhere along the way, he realizes the act of holding your hand feels natural to him now. Gazing at your interlocked fingers, he smiles to himself. He could get used to it– all of it.

He could get used to the people smiling at him and you on the street when they see you with fingers interlocked. He could get used to holding your hand every day, keeping you close. He could get used to your touches, hugs and skinship. He could get used to waking up to you in the same apartment as him, like that one time he locked himself out and you let him sleep over at your place. And to a certain extent, he already has gotten used to you– all of you. 

He’s used to texting you every day. He’s used to seeing you multiple times a week– because if he doesn’t, he misses you a little too much. He’s used to your movie nights and dancing with you in bars, shielding you from the looks of other greedy men wanting to get a piece of you. He’s used to the gold stickers you constantly provide him with as a gentle reminder of the unsaid feelings shared between the two of you. He’s used to your presence and your energy, he’s used to your teasing words and the memes you send in his Instagram DMs. If you were suddenly removed out of his life, he knows he’ll find it hard. It would feel like a piece of him was missing.

Some days, he tries to make himself believe that he’s content with what you two have right now. And he is, for the most part– but deep down, he knows he wants more. He always wanted something a bit more.

It shines through his actions on most days. It’s visible to everyone– the longing looks, the gentle touches. Jake once said Eric would jump out of a window if you asked him to, and after careful consideration, the boy had to shamefully agree with his roommate. Eric gets laughed at every time his cheeks blush when you give him too much special attention. He’s used to being called the ‘lover boy’ whenever you’re around. 

In front of you, he tries to hide his feelings as much as possible, though.

Sometimes, it slips out of him, though. In moments where the day slowly comes to its end and the atmosphere turns more tender. On days when the movie nights get moved to his apartment, because it’s closer to your university and you claim you’re too tired to walk all the way back to your place. Eric claims you’re just lazy, but the pout on your face tells him otherwise. 

On days when there is no one else in the apartment, just you two, and your conversation dies down. The boy is usually a chatterbox when it comes to watching movies with you– commenting on every single scene, making fun of the characters, teasingly spoiling bits and chunks of the plot for you– but it was a Friday night and you were snuggled up in your favorite hoodie, your bodies stuck tightly to each other on the sofa. There is a cloud of comfort, a huge curtain of intimacy falling over you two, and Eric is afraid that speaking up would ruin the sentiment. 

After a few minutes, he feels your head lay on his shoulder. The crown of your head is instantly more interesting than the movie playing on the TV, his eyes glossing over your relaxed expression. There is hair falling into your face and your eyelashes are kissing your cheekbones, your brain no longer focusing on the movie, but slowly dozing off instead. Eric mentally coos– it’s not often you fall asleep next to him, and so he somehow finds himself treasuring the moment. You look so peaceful, so beautiful– yet so unaware of it. His heart squeezes with tenderness, making sink a little into the sofa cushions so you’re more comfortable in using him as your head rest. He knows waking you up or moving you so you’re resting against the back of the sofa would be more convenient for your neck, but he selfishly relishes in the fact that you found comfort in the crook of his shoulder instead.

He can’t help but smile widely at your composure. You look small and vulnerable. You look like the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. Eric indulges in the fact that he’s not watched right now, letting himself fully enjoy and admire your sheer existence. 

He acts on impulse when his lips softly land onto your forehead. Not much thought goes into the sentiment– he just sheerly answered his heart’s calling. 

You look dreamy. You look lovely. He’s in love with you, he thinks.

He lets himself settle deeper into the couch cushions. After no longer having to entertain you with his comments on the movie he’s seen 4 times already– The matrix– he finds himself bored enough of the familiar plot to doze off himself, forgetting about the promise he made to you to drive you home after the movie is over. 

He sleeps through your smile and the shake of your head, as well as you detaching your head off his shoulder, smiling at the unaware boy. Not yet asleep– just resting your eyes for a bit– you were a witness of the boy’s tender, loving ministrations. You disappear out of the apartment after the movie is over, crossing paths with Jake in the entrance hall giving you a quiet wave and a point towards his roommate sitting on the sofa, a gold star adorning the tip of his nose.

You just shrug before leaving. Jake just shakes his head at both of you, wondering when your time will finally come. Eric wakes up in the middle of the night to the TV off, asking himself if he should consider the sticker a silent invitation.

And after a while of careful consideration– laying awake and wondering of all the what-ifs, replaying every moment spent with you over and over in his mind, looking for the very obvious signs of reciprocation– he decides to just go for it. He decides to be the brave man he claims he is, and finally makes the first step.

Well, at least tries to. Because as it turns out, it’s much more difficult to invite someone out on a date if you’re already friends with them for a prolonged amount of time. Not only is it more nerve-wrecking, but also much more confusing to the other party– and after inviting you out to get boba in the new place downtown, he’s not so sure you are aware that you’re on a date with him. 

Not that Eric expected anything to change between the two of you instantly after going on a date– no, he’s completely fine with the dynamic you two have, and it’s one of the things he values the most about your friendship– he just thought the atmosphere would be… a little different.

Which is why he decides to start dropping not so subtle hints about his intentions. Brave, isn’t he?

First of all, he pays for your order. All after the 20 minutes you take standing outside of the boba store searching through the menu to find out what you’re going to get– and although Eric finds it endearing, he is also starting to get a little nervous.

“Didn’t know you were so indecisive,” he hums, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

“I’m not!” you grunt, shaking your head at your own antics. “I just don’t know what tastes good together. Should I just get one of the premade drinks on the menu? But I’m not really in the mood for any of these–”

“I’ll just get you a random one,” he sighs, “and you will have no other choice than to drink it.”

“What if I don’t like it?”

“Then at least you have someone to blame,” he snickers, pushing the glass door open and entering the quiet boba store. He orders you a kiwi bubble tea with strawberry popping pearls– because he knows you enjoy how they come apart in your mouth– and after he comes outside with both of the drinks in either of his hands, he waves you off when you ask him how much yours was so you can pay him back.

“It’s on me,” he hums.

An over-exaggerated sigh escapes your mouth at that. “You’re paying? You never pay,” you exclaim and take the straw in between your lips, ready to taste the drink. You and Eric both know that what you said is a lie– he has no issue with paying for you, and he brings you random treats all the time– but for the sake of the next line, he decides to go along with it.

“Well, today is a different occasion, I guess,” he shrugs.

With that, you stop and stare at him with stars in your eyes, a teasing smile slowly overtaking your lips. You’re not stupid– you’re not oblivious the way he is– and so Eric thinks you finally got the hint. Or, at least he hopes so. “Is it?”

Suddenly too shy under your gaze, cheeks tinting light pink, the boy averts his gaze from you and walks down the street, expecting you to follow him. He might be brave enough to drop hints, but still not brave enough to admit to it explicitly.

Not when he drags you to the park and sits with you on the bench, people watching. Not when he casually drops his arm on the back of the bench behind you, gluing himself particularly close to your body. Not when he lets you try his drink, battling away the annoying voice inside of his head telling him that you just shared an indirect kiss. (‘Come on, Eric. You’re not a teenager anymore. Get it together.’)

He doesn’t admit to it in words, but he sure does in actions when he gives you his jacket when the evening gets chilly. He swears you look the most adorable in his red windbreaker, and in a moment of weakness, he puts his arm around your shoulders as you walk down the street, a selfish need of having you close to him winning above everything else.

“And what was so different about today, Eric?” you ask on the way to your apartment, gazing up at the beaming boy next to you. Are you teasing him again? Do you enjoy watching his misery?

Eric figures it’s for the best to tell you, though. He thinks it’s important to set the tone– because after today, it’s almost like nothing changed at all. The dynamic stays the same– and while he doesn’t think he hates it, he admits he’d just rather call you his.

So, despite the embarrassment, he chews on the bottom of his lip. You’re almost at your place already, and so he thinks it won’t hurt to talk about it now. If things go wrong, you can just go home and he can run to his apartment and violently cry into his pillow. 

“Well, I was thinking…” he starts, clearing his throat to buy himself some time and also trying to bite down the excessive nerves clawing at him from the inside, “I… you… I was hoping this wasn’t just like… a regular day out, you know…?”

Blinking at him a few times– because you must love to torture him, there is no other explanation– you shake you head at him. “No, Eric. I don’t know what you mean by that.”

Eric physically tears himself off you, your apartment complex now directly in front of him. Cracking his knuckles and taking a deep breath in to calm himself, he tries again. “I meant to… invite you out on a date today,” he proposes simply.

And in that moment, it’s like the whole world stops turning for a minute. Not only do you not give him any verbal answer, but your expression also stays the same as before– completely stoic and neutral, giving him no window into the way you feel about his suggestion. And you know what they say about Eric Sohn– he talks too much. Not only in situations where it’s inappropriate, but also in moments where he feels like there is nothing better to do than to fill the suffocating void that is the silence hanging over him– much like right now.

Eric rambles. “And- and I know I should’ve said that before making you go with me, but god, you don’t know how hard it is to make it clear to you that I’m trying to be more than friends with you without sounding absolutely fucking awkward!” he sighs, wetting his dry, chapped lips. 

“And I’m sorry if this changes your view of me, or something, but trust me, our friendship means to me so much more than just trying to make you date me, that was never my intention behind things, I do everything out of care for you, because you’re– you’re just everything to me–”

After the last line, he hears you chuckle. Your eyes finally meet, and he feels like he wants a car to run him over approximately 15 times to make sure all his bones are broken and his skull is smashed into pieces– he’s sure it would be more comfortable than the situation he put himself in right now.

“That was so cheesy,” you say, Eric’s stomach making a flip that might as well force acid up his throat. He won’t throw up, he won’t throw up, he won’t embarrass himself even more–

His hands shake. Suddenly, you take them into yours. 

He watches you carefully, ready to be let down. You step closer to him– surely, you’re going to give him a comforting hug as you tell him he read all the signs wrong and you don’t feel the same– before you lean into him, face inches away from his. Blinking, Eric suddenly registers your lips locking with his for a mere second, a soft, sweet caress of your mouth on his not giving him a chance to react– a chance to reciprocate– before you pull away, making him freeze.

“You always make things more complicated than they need to be,” you laugh, shaking your head in disbelief.

“Uh…” he lets out, like he lost all the words in his vocabulary. It’s the first time Eric Sohn has nothing to say– and it feels like a miracle. In reality, he’s taken aback and still processing.

The sight of him like this only makes you grin wider. It’s no question that you find him adorable like this, so bashful and surprised, cheeks turning red and lips slightly ajar, big eyes staring into yours. “Cat got your tongue?” you tease, letting go off his hands and placing your palms onto his cheeks instead, thumbs tracing his cheekbones. His brain might be blank right now, but his orbs still hold so many emotions– ones that make you soften and cave in on yourself, overflowing with tenderness. Hands automatically resting on your waist, Eric holds you close to his chest.

“Put your mouth to use in a different way, then,” you joke, watching the boy in front of you go into factory reset.

Lips crashing against yours, the boy kisses you like you’re his lifeline. Chasing after you, he puts all the words he’s said before and the ones he keeps hidden inside for now into the action, having you melt in his hold. He feels your breathing on his face, making him deeply aware of every detail, of every miniscule shift of your figure, every tiniest movement of your lips and the almost inaudible sound you let out when his teeth tug on your bottom lip as he pulls away for air, being a little overly-excited.

Foreheads resting together, the two of you in your own little bubble no one gets to peer into even on the busy street, Eric watches as you look down and take something out of your pocket– something he so deeply recognises, making his heart thump a thousand miles an hour, if it wasn’t already.

Another kiss is given to his lips– for good measure– before you press another one to the tip of his nose and one more peck into the middle of his forehead, making his legs feel like jelly. You follow your lips with the star sticker attached to your thumb, sticking it to your lover’s skin. 

“That’s a gold star for being adorable,” you say, making him roll his eyes. “And for the nice date.”

“Don’t I get one for being a good kisser too?” he pries, watching as you scoff at his prideful question.

“I don’t know, Sohn,” you shrug, “I’m not sure yet, but I could be convinced–”

He cuts you off by locking your lips again, ready to prove you of his abilities. With the gold sticker proudly glimmering on his forehead, he realizes that maybe you were right– and all along, it has always been this simple.

[taesanluv3r]

forever muse

han taesan x reader

i needed to write something tht's target audience is me bcs ive been so so sad and need to feel better. friends to lovers <3 insecure and jealous taesan TT mentions of other idols as their classmates. cuss words, lowercase intended, ignore any spelling mistakes/grammatical errors! enjoyy :3

wc: 3,387

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

"yn, this is crazy good! thank you so much"

kim leehan shoots yn ln a big smile, his hands holding onto a framed drawing of himself. it had been the kim boy's birthday and yn had gifted him one of her infamous hand-drawn portraits. it was a gift she gave to everyone on their special day, something she could whip up the night before and simply put inside of a wooden frame she picked up at her local art supply store. by the end of the year, almost every one of her classmates had received one. everyone except for her own best-friend, han taesan.

he doesn't understand why, watching with envious eyes as she stroked the loose ends of her hair behind her ear, grinning at the other guy's compliments. he couldn't help but notice the way the skin beside her lips dipped into dimples when she smiled, or the way her cheeks stained a shade of red darker than the cool-toned pink blush she had put on that day. a billion thoughts ran through his mind in that moment. it was his own birthday just two months ago, yet all he got from her was a card and a new sweater- which, granted, was the really nice sweater he'd been eyeing for a while and he was really thankful for it but still! couldn't she had taken the time out of her day to draw him the way she did others? was it cause he wasn't as pretty as the girls in their class? or maybe he just wasn't as handsome as leehan! or maybe she didn't care for him as much as he thought she did, maybe she just didn't want to waste her time and the ink of pen on him because maybe he just wasn't worth all of it and-

"taesan! you there?" the familiar female voice interrupts his rapid train of thoughts, his eyes widening slightly and his back straightening up. "huh? sorry, did you say something?" the boy asks and yn snickers, sitting down on her desk beside his. "no, don't worry about it. just wondering what you were zoning out about, that's all" he nods at her words, "it's nothing...i take it mister kim 'popular' leehan liked your little gift?" the obvious blush on her cheeks made his stomach turn, watching as she stared at the boy across the room from them. taesan rolled his eyes before she turned to look at him again. "i guess he did" yn smirked, a prideful look displayed against the features of her face. "well good for you" he replies, though his voice came off somewhat thicker and colder than it usually was. that, paired with the way he slammed his book shut and got up from his seat, left the girl confused by his sudden mood change.

"hey, where you going?" she asked, looking up curiously at his tall figure. he just shrugged, "i don't know, just gonna take a walk or something" the girl laughs, finding her friend's mysteriousness rather silly. "want me to come?" her eyebrows cocked up as she inquired, head tilted off slightly to the side. he shook his head, a single sentence escaping his pursed lips before he was out the door,

"i wanna be alone"

he disappeared into the distance, leaving his best-friend alone with the thoughts that began to swim into her brain. strange, she thought. the han taesan she knew was rarely ever this way- especially to her. sure, he looked mean and mysterious but even then he was never this cold. what's up with him?

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

the bell had gone off and their last period of the day had started, yet the desk beside yn's remained empty. taesan hadn't returned from his walk. it worried the girl a little, her mind coming up with a thousand scenarios, unable to focus on whatever piece of the great depression her history teacher was trying to teach to the group of seniors. the girl's gaze moved towards the window that was starting to get wet from the sudden droplets of rain that had fallen from the sky. hope he doesn't get caught in the rain...he might get sick, she thought, wherever he is...

as soon as the class ended, the girl stuffed all her belongings into her bag, not really caring for the creases that might fold onto her textbooks. as she's about to leave the classroom, a voice stops her. "yo, yn! me and some of the others are gonna head to the froyo place...come with?" leehan smiles cheerfully at her, his perfect hair and his perfect teeth complimenting his perfect face, but the girl shakes her head. "sorry, leehan, i have something important to do. have fun though! happy birthday, again- bye!" she didn't even give the boy enough time to process her words before she was running out the door.

the girl skips through the whole school building in the speed of light, her eyebrows knitted together when she can't find a single trace of her friend. yn stands on the steps at the back exit of the campus, groaning when she can't find an umbrella amidst the rain that began to grow heavier. she sighs, swinging her backpack over her head, deciding to make a run for it. her feet take her to the entrance of the art building that was separated from the main one of the academy, her make-shift backpack-umbrella proving to be useless as she spots her wet hair through the reflection on the glass doors. yn ln pushes on it, her damp shoes making contact with the white marble floors and she entered the cool building. if i can't find him here...where else would he be?

she begins to walk up the staircase, a sense of comfort engulfing her body at the familiar scent of her favourite area in the whole school. her fingers graze softly over the collection of canvases displayed on the walls, a smile making its way onto her lips when she spots a piece of art of her own. it's odd, but the girl seemed to have felt a presence when she arrived at the second floor, his presence.

the smell of acrylic paint mixed with melted hot-glue entered into her nostrils, causing her to wince at the intensity of the scent. a minute goes by and she finds herself entering the empty art room at the very end of the hall, it was the art room she self-proclaimed as her own, one that nobody apart from her ever really used. her hand presses softly against the door, a creaking noise alerting anyone that happened to be inside- though it was rare, she just knew he'd be in there. as expected, the girl walks in and is immediately met with his familiar figure sat on the floor. his head titled upwards to look out the window, his knees to his chest and his hands resting on them. yn sighs in relief when she noticed that despite the rain he remained completely dry, like he'd been here the entire time when she was worried he'd wandered off elsewhere.

"i've been looking for you...even got rained on" her voice is sweet, like she just knew he wouldn't be up for her usual enthusiasm. han taesan didn't look at her, paying her no mind as he continued to examine the droplets that pitter-pattered onto the glass windows from outside. this confused the girl, the same way he did when he abruptly got up and out of the classroom hours ago, the same way he did when his words came out so coldly earlier. "what's wrong with you today?" she asked, starting to get annoyed at her friend's ignorance. he scoffs, "today?" he repeated, eyebrows furrowing as he turned to look at her at last.

"what's wrong with me everyday?"

his words take her by surprise, as did the way his voice cracked and eyes watered slightly as he spoke. it's a sight she'd never seen before. never in the years they've been friends would she have ever imagined she'd see han taesan...cry.

"what...what are you talking about?" yn asked, the empathy in her heart threatening to escape as little tears through her eyes. "it's just...i feel like you don't care about me the way you do others!" the boy's voice is clearer now, almost louder and strict. she's about to say something, but he won't let her. not until he's done. "i mean, sure, i'm not as handsome and popular as leehan. sure, i'm not as smart and punctual as class president jungwon! and maybe i'm just not as cool as hanni and minji- or as funny as haruto-" yn tries to interfere, "what are you even saying-" but even then he doesn't let her. "but i mean, i'm your best-friend, right? i'm the guy you're closest to...so why? why does everyone except for me..." he trails off in frustration, eyes moving from the floor to the ceiling, anywhere that wasn't a direct view of her. of the girl who stared at him with intent, waiting for him to finish his sentence.

"why does everyone get a drawing for their birthday and all i get is a sweater and a card?"

the minute those words entered into her ear, a feeling of shock coursed throughout her body. a look of absolute disbelief present on her complexion as she let's out an exasperated sigh. "you're kidding me...right?" taesan fully looks at her again, confused this time. "i'm not" his voice is stern and serious, making the girl realize the weight of the situation. her features soften, a small smile returning to her lips as she looked into his teary eyes and sweet pout.

"you're so stupid, taesan...of course i care about you! just as much- if not more than anyone else" yn says, a giggle escaping her mouth towards the very end of her sentence. "then how come you never draw me?!" he exclaims slightly, eyebrows knitting together. this time, she fully laughs at his dramatic expression. "are you kidding?!" she asks, the same intensity in her tone. yn sighs before getting up, she fixes the wrinkles on her skirt and stretches an arm out for him to grab. the boy sits still however, only staring at her with eyes that resembled a lost kitty. the girl rolls her eyes, "c'mon! i need to show you something" she sighs once more when he doesn't budge. "fine, stay there. i'll bring it to you"

his eyes trail off to follow her as she rummages through a drawer over on the other side of the art-room. the side he knew she spent most of her free-time sitting in, running her pens and pencils over sheets and sheets of paper. he stares curiously at her when she pulls out a familiar looking sketchbook. yn closes the drawer, walking back towards the boy who was still sitting on the marble floor.

"here, look at this" she says, sitting beside him and handing him the book. taesan looks at her confused, "what? the sketchbook you always have your head in and never let me look through? you're really telling me to look at it? now?" she nods, "mhm! take it or leave it, taesan. this is a once in a lifetime opportunity" he shakes his head at her words but his fingers began to stroke over the leather material of the expensive-looking sketchbook's cover. he used both his hands to softly pry it opened, greeted with her messy scribble-like handwriting on the very first page.

'this book in your hands, the book i always use though if you looked into it you'd be confused flipping through the pages you'd find the same idea overused you'd find that only one person remains my forever muse.'

yn watched the way his eyes scanned over the poem she wrote, the confusion evident on his face as he tried to analyze the riddle-like clause. "your forever muse? if this whole book is a collection of drawings of kim leehan, i really don't want to see it" taesan says, scoffing in the process. the girl furrows her brows, "what are you talking about?" he rolls his eyes, "what do you mean? i'm obviously talking about your seriously obvious crush on mister popular!" her mouth falls opened in shock, "you idiot, i do not have a crush on that dork! never!" he chuckles, "you don't have to lie, yn...i understand it if you do...i mean isn't he just so dreamy?" he bats his eyelashes dramatically as he looks up at the roof, mimicking the way most girls thirsted over his popular classmate. she clicks her tongue before placing one nice big slap on the side of his arm. "ow! what was that for?" he whined, rubbing the spot that hurt.

"that's for being a fucking idiot...just look through the fucking sketchbook if you don't believe me!" her words are loud in his ears, a new voice of anger that juxtaposed the sweet tone she used earlier. it freaked the boy out for a second, sensing that he was wrong and obliging to her words. "alright fine...no need to yell" he said, fingers going back to fiddle with the pages of the book that now sat on his lap. he took a deep breath in, as did she, before finally flipping over to the next page. he gasps in shock, eyes widening ever so slightly at the sight before him. there, drawn in ink and pencil, the one thing that caused this whole scene to begin with. the thing he'd been longing for that he thought she never cared to make. it was a portrait of himself.

"what...is that me?!" the boy turns to face her in shock, suddenly questioning the reality of this situation. she snickers, "yeah, no shit! and if you could quit yapping and looked through the rest of the book you'd find a thousand more drawings of you" taesan lets out a laugh, wasting no time as he continued to flip through each and every page. yn watched the way the corners of his lips began to point upwards, his smile getting bigger and bigger after every drawing.

soon the ink-stained pages turned into blank ones, yet to be doodled on by the artsy girl. taesan shuts the sketchbook closed, turning to look at his friend with the fondest of eyes. "so you do care about me" he says, his voice sincere and warm. she laughs, "i care about you so so so much, stupid" he giggles, a giddy feeling in his tummy, "i mean obviously you do...a whole book of drawings of me?! you might as well just tell me you're in love with me!" he's laughing still, though he can't help but notice the way she had quieted down. did he say something wrong?

"hey...you okay?" he asks, a hand moving up to press softly against her shoulder. she's frozen, unable to utter a word. "was it something i said?" he continued, tucking bits of her hair away from her face. "what is it, yn? just tell me..." the boy was growing impatient, not really understanding what was going on in that little head of hers. she sighs, looking up at him again. "okay...but you can't be dramatic about it" she says, making him roll his eyes, "when have i ever been dramatic?" the girl glares at him, "taesan" he goes silent, "okay, i'm sorry, just tell me" she nods once, inhaling deeply.

"taesan, i think i kind of really am...in love with you"

han taesan gasps, his eyes as wide as the earth as those very words left her lips. yn watches his shocked expression, beginning to regret everything she just said. "fuck, i'm sorry. i shouldn't have said anything-" her rambling comes to a halt when his gleeful laughs serenade the room, confusing the girl for the millionth time that day. "why are you laughing?" she asked, unsure of what emotion she was supposed to feel. he smiles, "because i'm happy. don't happy people laugh?" his cheeks were dusted with a shade of pink, a similar colour on his lips that smiled warmly at her. "huh?" yn was still lost, everything that he spoke beginning to sound like a foreign language to her.

"i love you too, yn. i always have. i mean, why else would i be jealous of mister popular and all our other classmates?" the boy's words were natural, he spoke like he had no doubts and worries anymore. she looked at him with adoring eyes, eyes that were glossed with a layer of pre-mature tears. "oh don't cry, you idiot!" he said, his ears catching the silent whimper that fell out of her lips. "well then don't make me, stupid!" she whined, slapping him on the chest. taesan giggles again, pulling her into his embrace. "you're such a big baby, yn" he says, his teeth out for display as he grinned into her hair that still smelled of rain. "says the one who was literally about to cry because he thought i didn't care about him" she pushed herself off of his chest, a great big pout present on her lips as she glared at him like a child. he clicked his tongue, "don't look at me like that, yn" she's confused again, "like what?"

"like you want me to kiss you"

yn smiled, "and what if i do?"

the girl moves, getting on her knees and scooting closer to him. he adjusts as well, their faces inches away from each other now. his hands found home over on the sides of her face, her own ones soothing the skin of his neck. they stare at each other for a while, neither one of them making a move. yn gets impatient, one hand moving from the back of his neck down to the red tie beneath the collar of his school uniform. she tugs at it, sending taesan forward and crashing onto her lips. they kissed like they'd never again, an entanglement of tongues filling the otherwise silent room with lustful sounds. she giggles as they separate, gasping for air. their foreheads remained stuck together, her eyes never leaving his. he grins, leaning in to connect their lips once again. it was quick this time, a soft peck followed by about a dozen more.

"you're so handsome, taesan" the girl says, examining his features closely as she traced her finger over each one of them. "even more than leehan?" he asked, the envy still existing in his heart. she rolls her eyes, "a billion times more" the boy raises an eyebrow, "really?" yn looks up at the ceiling, as if she were making a really big decision. "maybe not a billion times more..." taesan frowns, his expression sending her heart to beat faster than a bullet train. "i'm kidding. you're a billion times more handsome than anyone ever" she assures, playing with the ends of his dark hair. "oh yeah?" he smirks, feeling proud again. "i mean duh...you are, after all..." yn trails off, pressing her forehead against his again.

"...my forever muse"

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

"yn! so sad we missed you for froyo yesterday" kim leehan says as yn ln enters the classroom. she smiles, "yeah sorry about that, i had somewhere to be..." he nods in understanding before hopping off of the table he sat on and beginning to walk over to her. "that's alright, maybe you can come after school today? it'll just be us though...what do you say?" he had a shit-eating smirk placed onto his lips, confidently winking at the girl. she opens her mouth to answer but a familiar voice enters the classroom, interrupting her before she could even speak.

"the answer is no! and stop perceiving my girlfriend! she does not want you!!"

han taesan glares at the other boy, an annoyed look on his face as he wraps a protective arm over yn's shoulders. the girl sighs, slapping a palm over her forehead when leehan shoots her boyfriend a weirdened out look. the kim guy moves his gaze from the han boy and over to the girl, raising his eyebrows so as to ask for confirmation. she nods slowly,

"sorry leehan, my boyfriend asked me out for froyo today already"

the end.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

writing this made me feel so much better after ive been sad TT hope u guys enjoyed this <3 reblogs n feedbacks r greatly appreciated!! tysm for readinggg! love, kona.

[thewertsearch]

We should hurry this along. My visitor is beginning to set things on fire. […] TT: Who? Some guy. I was joking anyway. I am not in a hurry at all.

You said you should hurry, which is different from saying that you're in a hurry.

If the Alpha Timeline decrees that this conversation will be rushed, then it's still accurate to say it 'should' be hurried, even if Scratch isn't personally pushed for time.

TT: I thought you didn't lie. TT: Aren't jokes essentially humorous lies? Jokes are only temporary lies. If the falsehood is never exposed, there is no punchline. If the punchline is never delivered, the lie is sealed forever, regardless of initial humorous intent.

And this is just bullshit.

First of all, admitting that you lied doesn't retroactively negate the lie. That's not how any of this works. Scratch is just unilaterally deciding that falsehoods only 'count' when they're permanent, a rule he pulled completely out of his foamy ass.

Even if we accept his premise - which I don't - he could still wait arbitrarily long before revealing his falsehood, so that Rose doesn't realize she's been played until it's too late. This definition doesn't meaningfully restrict him from lying, and I think it's purely designed to confuse Rose.

[…] Lies are not funny. TT: I think if you're going to risk tarnishing your record of honesty, you should probably get better material. My joke was objectively funny. Who would know better than I?

And these? These are opinions, which don't have objective truth values. There are so many strings attached to Scratch’s ‘I don't lie’ shtick, I could knit him a better outfit.

Not that it matters, because Rose is in too deep. She's not going to back out now, no matter how suspicious this guy is.

TT: So you're saying an inaccurate statement doesn't count as a lie, as long as you say "just kidding" later? Basically. TT: What if it's much later? Is it still "just a joke?" No, that would be something closer to a prank.

I appreciate that Rose is trying, but her language is still too imprecise. Scratch is immortal, and it's impossible to know what ‘much later’ means to him. For god's sake, he's having this conversation in a single extended second! Give us some hard numbers, fucker!

TT: Are you allowed to lie about playing pranks? If I asked you if you were playing a prank on me, would you tell the truth? I am allowed to do whatever I want. I choose never to lie. I also choose to tell jokes now and then, and to play pranks quite sparingly.

See, the trap Rose is falling into is that she’s buying into the premise of the game. She's delving deep into the intricacies of Scratch's rules, and in the process, has completely forgotten to be skeptical of the guy who's explaining them.

Scratch tailors his manipulation style to whoever he's talking to - and if anyone's susceptible to a nerd-snipe, it's the Seer of Light.

But I can say that I have never played a prank on you, and no statement I have made to you thus far, or will make in this conversation, will contain any trace of falsehood for the sake of setting up a joke or a prank, with the exception of the joke I just made, and another one I will make very soon.

Like – let’s take this statement as an example. We could review the entire conversation with it in mind, and try to puzzle out where the setup for Scratch’s second ‘joke’ is, if it exists at all. Rose is probably doing exactly that – and in the process, has completely forgotten that he just said that he’s fully capable of lying.

He’s literally telling her to her face that he’s deceiving her, but she's too caught up in his games to pay attention. This is what it means to play with your cards face up, and it’s as impressive as it is terrifying.

TT: I'm starting to change my mind. Oh? TT: Yes. I think your joke was funny in retrospect. Actually, your whole shtick is pretty good. I'm warming up to it.

It’s great! He’s a good villain! He’s a puppet who’s got everyone else tied up in strings!

[wixenburr]

Saw some ppl talking about Reverse Robins and i had thoughts

Talking abt u guys @eldritchdreamss @brucewaynehater101

Why kill Tim when you could kill baby Jason? What I want is for all of them to keep their own backstories and personalities (Developed in line with the story of course) So ofc i had to write a 1,000 word brainrot abt it.

(Also i'll only be going over the main 4 batbros for now i will add more later but these guys are the ones im most passionate about so here we go)

Damian

Let Damian come in, desperate to be of use and be worthy of his father, only for a softer, less jaded bruce (since jason hasnt died yet) to help him open up his heart and let him act as a kid. With no competition for so long, I imagine he and Bruce get along very well while he works with him. Yeah, they need to work on the no killing deal and Damian's... i guess impulse control? But i think it would be easier with very intensely focused reparenting; no distractions of other kids you know? No favoring or anything.

I see Damian growing up as a stoic, jaded adult. He's had a rough life. Maybe he sticks with the vigilante business. but I really love headcanons where he gets out of it, and focuses on something calmer, like his art. (I do appreciate and love the veterinarian Damian AUs, but im going for FULL calmness, you know? And doctor/vet work is Not calm lol)

So yeah, maybe he grows a real passion for heroism, maybe he doesn't? Maybe he goes on to be an artist and that's just what he does. Bro is ready to settle down as a scarred, veteran trophy husband and i adore him for that.

(Sorry lol i just love Damian and i love the idea of him growing out of both of his parent's legacies. Let him live his own life!!! He fights so so hard for at least 15 years. ALL 15 years of his life. He deserves to have some peace.)

Tim

Tim i think would need a much different story to join the Batfam. He still starts out as a stalker who follows batman and. . . . . . . Redimar (meaning Redemption iykyk (I just spend 17min researching names rip)) at night, takes photos, etc... Since Damian doesn't die, maybe he finds Tim? and like, tim is like 11 and Damian is 17 or 18. He's started going out as Redimar less and less, not that B really minds? In fact hes probably happy for his son so...

But then Damian finds Tim, and now he has to keep going out because he can't let this kid get himself killed like this. He would hold himself accountable since hes the only reason Tim keeps going out so much- also i imagine Tim follows Redimar more than Batman.

Cue a classic Tim Joining The Batfam plotline. They get to know each other better, get a grasp on Tim's situation, Damian finally introduces Tim to Bruce... (Probably something like Dami: "Father, this is my new brother. Timothy, say hello to Father," Tim: "Hello, Father," Dami: "Perfect." Bruce: "*falls off the batchair*)

Anyway, so, Tim ends up kinda just merging with the Waynes. They start training him, its all good and nice, and Tim makes his own little hero team unlike Damian, which is actually pretty interesting here; its Tim who made the first young hero team. Damian only ever had Jon (Superboy 1 in this!!) and he finds Young Just Us and becomes a great leader and its all fine and dandy.

Tim and Damian get along well. Damian is the sage older brother whos kinda distant, but only because he has such high emotional walls (but secretly a softy). He is very much like Bruce- nope, nevermind, hes definitely worse than Bruce in this AU, since Bruce is depicted as being much more agreeable before Jason's death, you know? So yeah, Damian is the emotionally constipated bitch in the fam and we love him for that. But hey!! Tim does manage to get through his walls! And Bruce does sometimes too!! (Tho i imagine Bruce and Damian's relationship to be very.. idk let me try to expalain. Dami: "Father." Bruce: "Son :)" Dami: "Tt." Bruce: *nods* "Hrn." Dami: "Hmph." Bruce: "Hm.") DO U PICK UP WHAT IM PUTTING DOWN--- lmfao. They hardly need words.

Tim ends up growing up very very capable. Once his parents die, he gets a little jaded, but hes still Tim. He and Damian become kind of an... ice prince duo? If you get what I mean. But Tim is the one whos actually the ice prince, Damian is secretly a HUGE softie. He is Delicate and Tim protects him lmfao.

Jason

Jason comes along like he does in canon. Has the same backstory. Tries to steal the Batmobile's wheels. Tim is sleeping over at Damian's flat for the night, so its just Bruce. They bond. Shit happens. Jason joins the fam.

I don't imagine them not getting along, but they don't immediately hit it off either. Jason is wary of all of them for a time, but he ends up warming up to Damian pretty fast after realizing what a softie he is. He pokes fun at Damian and Damian just freaking takes it lmao. Hes an adult he cannot be disturbed. Bro has seen too much and he finds Jason adorable. (Dami: "You were never this cute, Timothy." <- he is lying. Tim: *offended* "What the fu- flip!?" Jason: "Lmao Tim just say fuck." Dami: *deadpan stare* Tim: "JASON NO DONT SAY THE FUCK WORD-") ahem.

anywho and then Jason dies rip skill issue ratio.

The whole batfam is heartbroken. Genuinely shattered. Jason was a light in their lives. Not that they were WITHOUT any light, but Jason was the epitome of a sunshine child.

It's been too long since Damian has killed someone. Bro's god oodles and oodles of trauma. He can't bring himself to kill the Joker.

but Tim can.

It's a whole dramatic thing; Damian feels awful that he made his- now only- little brother kill. Bruce is hella upset but feels responsible for not seeing how badly both of his kids were handling the death of their brother. Tim goes a little off the deep end.

Things turn out.... okay. sort of. but not really. Tim changes his hero name to Red Cardinal. He feels pretty lost. Maybe he stumbles into Ra's al Ghul or smthn idk maybe smthn happens there perhaps. Maybe Damian has to put on Redimar again and rescue him? But its less of a rescue and more of a "Stop joining the dark side Tim jesus christ-" (and it does work).

They go home. Tim gets a boyfriend or two. Damian falls into his art. Bruce is throwing himself into work. They're all kind of a mess, but they keep moving.

and then

Dick

(lmao that sounded wrong)

ahem; and then the circus comes to town. The batfam- well, Tim, Damian, and Bruce- all decide to get together to do something fun. Take the opportunities given, yk? So they go to the circus together.

Wham bam rip the falling Flying Graysons.

They see Dick, breaking apart, and they know they have to do something. Bruce is the first to move. Then Tim. Damian is the last.

It's pretty quick getting Dick home, since Bruce is already a foster parent cuz of Tim yk. So Dick doesn't have to suffer in Juvie at all really. But that doesn't change the fact that he is ANGRY.

Dick is SO angry. he wants to kill the person who murdered his parents. He knows what he saw.

The fam of course do their best to investigate. Mostly Tim, who feels unworthy of being around an innocent little kid after his whole.... villain era, i suppose lol. (ofc Dick thinks Tim doesnt like him lol misunderstanding arc GO)

The whole "Dick accepts that justice is better than murder kinda maybe FOR NOW" storyline happens, and Dick becomes the conniving, bright, little Robin we all know and love. (Thinking of the Young Justice Cartoon Robin (but not the characters- just Dick's character) aaaand

Womp womp GUESS WHOS BACK

Jason's Back

but i'll leave that for later.

[an-gothamite-aka-zannalial]

If Damian had normal friends and his family still thought he hadn't made any friends after Jon then this would be funny

Dick: Little bird what are you going to do during this summer, because this time it seems like no one can be with you

Damian: You don't need to worry, Grayson. I already have an appointment with my friends to paint on the str- Our club

Dick: I know you want to be with Jon baby bird but he still seems busy being Superman

Damian: I don't mean Kent grayson, I mean my school friend

Dick: You finally have a friend. Dami, you're not making an excuse to sneak out and almost die again, right?

Damian: No. I've been with them since the beginning of high school

Dick: okay ok whatever you said. Just don't look for Jon he's on a space mission

Damian: tt

Jason: You better not do anything strange when we are not watching you

Damian: Why are you all the same, thinking that I will do something. All I want to do is play with my friends

Jason: Until the end of the day you won't be able to make me believe you have friends other than your imaginary friend demon spawn

Damian: Whatever you think Todd

Duke: I have a suggestion for what you can do on your Summer this time, just because we're gone you-

Damian: You too . Why is everyone like this

Duke:

Damian: Thomas would you believe me if I said I had school friends

Duke: Not really it sounds a bit strange

Damian: I'm done. You'll know I have friends before Todd wants to propose Harper

Cass and Steph: So did you say you have friends

Damian: yes

Steph: Then prove it kid

Damian: *Lost his phone because it fell in a paint bucket. Wait some time

Cass: I think it's okay if baby brother has an imaginary friend, let him move on by himself

Damian: tt I hate you all

Bruce: Son, you're not planning anything, are you? Cause you've been acting strange lately

Damian: *Plan to paint a giant Graffiti that says " fuck the batfam " and go party night and try cigarettes

Damian: no

Alfred: When do you want to bring your friends to manor master Damian

Damian: When my giant Graffiti is finished pennyworth

Alfred: I will allow it but make sure you don't get hurt, sir

Damian: of course

[bywons]

﹆ WITH AND WITHOUT — LHS

⌕ where lee heeseung realises he messed up too bad

𖦹 pairing. toxic!bf! lee heeseung x f!reader w.c. 0.7k tw/cw. cursing, implications of cheating at end genre. angst/hurt sru's note. pls don't let this flop TT ( CATALOGUE?! )

¤ feedbacks and reblogs are always appreciated!

heeseung's head aches more than ever, and for every second that he stares at the minimalist silver pendant sitting still between your collarbones, it's thin silver chain hugging your neck ever so softly, it aches even more.

and now it's the time for his heart. he physically cringes out of guilt when he watches you retract your hand away from his. he just wants to hold your hand in his, wants to embrace the soft warmth that once felt like home, that cosy and cordial sensation that gave him butterflies.

but now that is long gone.

it started with heeseung really. from your shoulders missing the embrace of his arm to his cheeks missing your tickling, feathery kiss. neither of you know when this started; an invisible wall growing between you two, and all you can do is sit and watch, letting the wall increase the distance you've already built in between you both.

“you should focus on the movie instead”, your tone is boring, maybe even annoyed. or maybe none, heeseung simply doesn't know. he can't concentrate on whatever's playing in front of him, his eyes are fixed on your necklace, sending such visuals to his brain out of which he can only think of scenarios that hammers his heart even more.

the pendants’ a heart. it's a fucking heart.

“yeah, i am”, heeseung lies, again. just like the way he lied to you three months ago saying he would definitely attend your birthday party albeit his rough basketball practice.

you searched for your boyfriend's compelling face for hours that evening. waited for him the whole night, an hour passed by, then two, then three. every face in your apartment left and the one that should've been there by your side on the couch, holding you in his arms and kissing you all over, was not there. lee heeseung indeed broke his promise that day, along with a piece of you.

“really? what just happened right now then?”, you yawn, munching on the caramel popcorn, a flavour you didn't really like. but heeseung is unable to answer your question right now, he doesn't find enough words to formulate a sentence and explain why he didn't really know what was going on in the movie. his eyes just mindlessly read over the subtitles at the bottom of the screen not really getting the context behind it, there are more vital thoughts in the back of his head, eating him alive in this moment.

heeseung mentally curses himself for instances that took place months ago. instances which once broke your heart, you cried over it, burying your face in the pillow and then eventually forgetting about it. instances that heeseung never cared enough to think about twice before going to bed, or use to reflect on his actions or even think about it.

but suddenly heeseung wishes he could go back in time and return to your birthday party that evening, he wishes he was not that casual to flirt with your best friend in front of you, he wishes he hadn't caused those meaningless arguments with you, he wishes he'd never told you that his ex was better. heeseung wishes he was a better boyfriend for you.

“this one new?”, and heeseung's eyes are back on the necklace you were wearing, it's dainty silver heart infuriating him even more and he can't find the reason why. why the fuck can't he recognize the necklace?

“this one?”, you very well know which one he means when you point at the silver necklace on your neck, or else why will you be sitting with your cardigan pushed all the way down to your collarbones? “you gave it to me, don't you remember?”, you smile.

“not really”, heeseung trails off, a smile from you felt odd after days of cold shoulder from you. it doesn't feel genuine though, so he returns another fake smile hoping you wouldn't notice, “maybe i forgot.”

heeseung can never forget, never ever when it comes to you. he might have been the worst boyfriend ever but he's dying for your touch right now, maybe playing hard to get in your own relationship got him? he can't bet on being ‘good boyfriend’ all over again, he knows he fucked up. but he can bet on one thing though.

he swears and he swears to god and all his 23 years of life, he has never bought that necklace for you.

‘cause why the fuck would it have a ‘J’ engraved on it?

© bywons, 2024. do not copy, translate or upload any of my works without my permission.

(📌) :: TAGLIST IS OPEN! @euncsace @fleumiu @leaderwon @dimplewonie @yrhome @heartswonn @jwonistic @aaasia111 @ashtxrie nets! @/k-labels

[sweeteaacakes]

C-can I asked for a stupid headcan about them playing Minecraft

♡》 WHB Kings Playing Minecraft.

┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° Sorry it took long~ I ended up writing some for the nobles too... but had to cut only for the kings because it would be too much.

»»-----------►

Satan

The griefer. He would pull out TNTs whenever he felt like it or light things on fire. It's an impulse.

Mining? Explosion. Fishing? Explosion. Building houses? Explosion.

His inventory has common things like flints and lava buckets.

You'd think he have a diamond sword, diamond armors or things like that until he pulls out a fucking rod.

Correction: enhanced blaze rod.

It has a knockback, fire aspect so it'll burn whoever is hit, sharpness, smites, bane of arthropods. You call it.

He has another one which is an ordinary rod that just deals damage and knockback.

Would use it with the people in his server occasionally. The nobles are eager to be the target of it.

Uses it to Mammon every time they meet and Mammon retaliates.

Despite being a griefer, he takes care of building and when the nobles told him he can find various materials he started mining and building along with others.

Paimon recommended using mods so he can have a motorbike in game. He is having fun building rails and riding minecarts.

“Expert” in redstone (aka puts it to everywhere + tnt + flint)

His playmode sways here and there but he has the most creative ideas when it comes to building.

Mammon

He traveled far and wide until he found the biome Badlands where there are mineshafts and golds.

Mammon is good at building and always experiments on various materials.

He always has treasures with him.

Either he takes whatever treasure is in the chest or leaves some. You better keep your stuffs in the ender chest :x

Eligos has to tell him many times to not make armors and weapons out of gold because it's not efficient when it comes to battle! TToTT)

So he just made a golden statue… various golden statues and some are built using redstones.

Mammon probably managed to put his ability in-game thanks to that.

He can activate giant hands in his server and they work as defensive walls.

if he is not in the server, he wears enhanced armors and weapons plus have many stacks of enhanced golden apple.

Implied a policy that in-game currency isn't exchangeable outside because a certain someone would have taken advantage of it.

People who can't afford a better computer can't enter Tartaros. Not because they have to pay to enter but because of the massive and detailed buildings that will overheat their computer TT-TT)

And when I tell you massive, I mean it obscures the sun. As if it was made by grand masters of constructions that will tell you “it's the average”.

They have a mod installed which allows them to have an advanced technology.

The server has a giant wall that resembles Mammon’s giant hand.

Ahem He dedicated a golden statue of MC’s bottom ♡

Leviathan

Since he can't hang someone in-game Leviathan uses instant-kill. They're gonna respawn anyway so no big deal.

I would say they have a mod to have tombs but… I can imagine Hades’ server to be proficient in potion making and animal taming.

Leviathan spends most of his time exploring other biomes such as nether, caves, ocean. Unlike in the outside world, in-game he can explore freely with minor accidents :3

He has a castle in each of the biomes.

I can tell he would love the Cherry Grove, Ice Spikes and even Savannah where there are many animals TTwTT)

He tames animals. Even tries taming monsters but those who hurt him are quickly dealt with. No hard feelings.

He seems like someone who doesn't care but he actually has insane armors, weapons and potions for competitive games.

Goes to another server from time to time carrying potions of invisibility.

Have more chances to stumble with Beelzebub than the Avisos’ nobles lol

Quickly log-out if it happens.

Beelzebub

Aye! The wandering king! Even in-game, he still wanders server to server.

His clones play too so you'll find him in various servers once at time.

You'll probably find him in unexpected places too…

He… have a fucking rod as a weapon TToTT)

Like… not a blaze rod like Satan… a FISHING ROD.

Yeah, it's enhanced. He forgot how he did it or what he put in it. He fucked around and find things out lol.

If you find him somewhere, there'll be a chance that he'll tag along with you and he suddenly disappears just like how you found him.

Just like outside, he still create unexplainable phenomena in-game TToTT

Lucifer

Just here to have fun~

Gamigin and Jjok helped him to get in creative mode so he can just fly around and stuffs~

He is just there to relax~

He builds here and there but is very slow because he needs to figure out.

So being in creative mode helps a lot so he won't have to search for them.

He goes in player mode though because he wants to feel the fun of actually playing it with others.

He does suck on mining…

Dies a lot…

He was mining and drowned in lava.

He drowned.

Fell on high places.

✨️Dumb Ways To Die✨️

He was flustered when he found out that there are wings in Minecraft! Gamigin was worried it would bring him bad memories but Lucifer didn't mind it.

He found it fun learning to fly again in a game. He crashed in various places until he got used to the control.

Belphegor

In AFK

Uses the game as background music while he does other stuff outside.

You know those videos of relaxing Minecraft music for 10 hours? Those

Don't bother to fight him. He cheats.

Asmo

Doesn't log-in often.

But when he does it's for hook-ups.

He prefers to feel the real thing and isn't very much in roleplay, especially when it comes to games.

Have various potions with him that he throws whenever he feels like.

I imagine him building a garden house? Lucifer like that. They hang together without speaking.

He builds the most questionable thing. Like strange things.

»»———-　　———-«

Author Note: Asmodeus and Belphegor's are short there isn't much known about them but I wanted to include them too TT-TT)~ Thanks for the ask ♡ I don't get much often so it's always appreciated:3

[noemilivv]

Heelloooo I am in need of husk fics 😔

Can you write one where the reader is one of the hellborn who happens to be the right hand and daughter figure of Fizz and Ozzie? Like she was sent to handle official business on Pride ring and happens to see this "Redemption" campaign from none other than the Princess of Hell whom she recalled was previously part of your circle when you were both younger.

So, she comes to the hotel unannounced and sees a familiar face (not charlie's) but Husks! As we know, Lust is a ring that legally allows demons to dwell with humans. When the reader was younger like 20s (I'm convinced Charlie and Lucifer are CENTURIES old- like the reader) she went up and met Husk when he was alive had this unfinished business as lovers. She wouldn't dare let him fall to hell and left him with her unanswered origins and surprise surprise Charlie and Lucifer was busy for a talk in his office and Husk was left to deal with the reader- and slowly had a talk over the bar about his runaway 'lover'.

All comes into place as he realizes who he was talking to. (Maybe angst to fluff?)

I'm so sorry if this is so long TT thanks for reading still!

ofcc ! here ya go, friend :)

i did have to take out some of the details becuz there’s a few loopholes so i hope that’s ok!!

Husk x Past Lover!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, not proofread

You were helping set up for a performance for your friend Fizz, as you went to go set up a nearby table, a poster that read ‘Redeem yourself here, at the Hazbin Hotel!’ caught your eye.

You made a mental note to look into that within the next few days.

You looked into it. Maybe this whole redemption thing is worth a shot, it’s better than having to deal with the exterminations every year.

You knocked on the door, and who you knew as Lucifer’s daughter answered moments after, eagerly.

“Hello!” She said with a massive grin on her face, as a shorter woman stood behind her.

“Hi — I saw this,” You started, showing her the poster, “While at work, and it peaked my interest, so I was wondering if I could drop in for awhile?” You asked with a soft smile.

“Ohhmigosh, of course!” She had, stepping aside to let you in.

“Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel! I’m Charlie, by the way — I didn’t catch your name?” She said.

“Oh, it’s (Y/N).” You answered.

“Oh, well nice to meet you, (Y/N)!” She grinned before beginning to introduce you to all the staff.

“This is Angel, and that’s Husk!”

You stopped for a moment. I mean, surely that’s not who you thought it was. You could swear that was your boyfriend from when you were alive.

You and Husk had dated back when you were alive, it didn’t end badly, a sort of ‘right person, wrong time’ deal.

He glanced over at you, squinting to see if it was really you, before going wide-eyed, then he turned back to Angel. Yep, that’s him.

Charlie looked down at her phone before looking at you, “I have some business to attend to with my father, I’ll be back momentarily to show you your room!” She said with a polite smile. “Thank you so much again, I hope you enjoy your stay!” She said before walking away.

You and Husk made eye contact, as he motioned to a secluded section of the hotel, you followed him down the hall.

“Is it really you?” He asked.

“Yeah, it’s me.”

You both mutually leaned in for a semi-awkward hug as friends?? Lovers?? Acquaintances?? Who knows now.

Husk pulled away, a paw still on your shoulder, “Look, I know it’s been a few years since we’ve seen eachother, but maybe it wouldn’t hurt to try again, we can go slow.. I’m in no rush for this shit.” He proposed with a dry chuckle. “How about a drink?”

“Yeah…” You said. “A drink sounds nice.”

[b3rrymilks]

𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬 !

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 : a cute lil sleepover with your boyfriend miles :)

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 : <3 this was also requested by anon, so enjoy luv ! (sorry for all the angst on my page rn..💔💔) this is very short due to my mind not being able to cook anything longer up. my minds been a bit all over the place😭😭 sorryyy💔 ART CRED : thokzu on tt

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 : miles morales (1610) x reader

ɪ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜ

🕷️ while being conjoined at the hands, you both danced around in the pouring rain. your laughter filled the small space you danced in. miles was a nice change of pace in your life, ever since you’d gotten with him, things have changed for the better.

“you’re so beautiful” miles wasn’t usually the type to get all sappy without nearly having a nervous breakdown. “what did you do?” you replied, squinting and pointing an accusing finger at him. “nothing nothing, i just wanted you to know” miles laughed, watching you happily. this moment was cut short by his mother yelling. “MILES GONZALO MORALES GET INTO THIS HOUSE OR SO HELP ME!” her screams were louder than the rain. somehow.

when you two both walked into the house, rio had placed multiple towels on the floor so the rain wouldn’t get spread all over the floor. “you two—“ her lecture paused as she stared at the both of you. standing there soaked holding eachothers hands. “—get changed before you get sick.” she said, throwing even more towels at you two. “nowwww!” she added, watching you both still standing there, giggling.

what you two didn’t know, was that she watched the entire time as you two danced out in the rain. she found it heartwarming as her and jeff did the dame thing when they were kids.

miles wrapped a towel around you and rubbed it all around, creating friction to warm you up. “well, there’s no taking you home in this rain, my mom would kill me if either of us got sick.” miles spoke, looking around his room for a change of clothes for you. “uhh, here” he handed you one of his large white shirts, and fluffy pajama pants that his mom had bought a dupe of.

miles loved to draw, it was one of his favorite hobbies. he would often sketch you during class, as you would be nearly falling asleep at the boring lesson. no matter where he was or what he was doing he would always find himself drawing you. he had multiple sketchbooks already full, and every 2 pages there was a sketch of you.

there was something about the rain that was calming, making you tired. the rain definitely wasn’t going to let up soon, so you joined miles in his room as he completed his physics homework. he rubbed his temples in confusion. he had missed a few days of class, meaning he was behind in work. “you know it’s a trick question right miles?” you told him, giggling at his frustration. “no it’s not? it’s—“ he paused mid sentence, rereading the question. “no way…” he whispered, looking back at you. your giggling finally got to him, making him grab a pillow from his bed and toss it at you.

“hey HEY! it’s not my fault you missed class” holding the pillow up in defense. “you think it’s so funny hm??” he asked, picking up another larger pillow and threw it at you. loud laughter eventually filled miles’ room as you both began throwing pillows at each other.

his parents sat in the living room, listening to the laughter. “hope he’s done his physics homework.” his father spoke through an exhale, finishing his water. in honestly, they were all glad miles was happy and had someone to hang around with. (tehee.. get it? hang aroun? alr my bad don’t block me pls💔)

“okay okay fine! i’m sorry” you apologized to miles who was still hitting you with the large soft pillow. “i forgive you.. for now” miles spoke before falling onto his bed, pulling you close. his body heat quickly spread between the both of you.

soon the laughter died down, and the rain continued to patter against the window in his room. with slow blinks and miles caressing your face, you slowly fell asleep.

“i love you.” miles whispered pressing a gentle kiss onto your forehead, watching your chest rise and fall. “you are a lover boy huh? crazyyyy” his father peeked into his cracked open door. “dad! get—“ lowering his voice, “—get out.” embarrassment quickly setting in. as his father left, he closed the door. “he takes after his father.” he mumbled with a laugh.

[reyreadersblog]

ALRIGHT Y'ALL MADE ME DO IT!!!

My unpopular tig/tgg opinions!!

FIRST!

These are MY opinions and i'm allowed to have my own thoughts on certian things, just as you are, okay..? Just wanna..get this out of way, i know everyone is respectful in this fandombut still.

1. this is something that should NOT be an upopular opinion. AVERY IS THE MAIN CHARACTER FOR A REASON. okay? She is a girlboss, and she needs more appretiation, cus literally search up tig on tt rn. Everybody and their cat named Stewie is talking about Grayson and Jameson? WHAT ABOUT MY MG AVERY? And if you see any post about her, it's probably a hate vid about how Avery should've kept the money...SHUT UP. Read what she said carefully..."no one deserves that kind of power.." and then think about it deeply.

2. I DO NOT WANT TIG TO TURN INTO A TV SERIES (or even a movie). i can't name all the reasons 'cus then the the list would be endless. First of all, i know, I JUST KNOW, they'll choose the worst cast ever. And even if they find the most accurate cast for the Hawthorne brother i will still be dissapointed, because the images of them i have in my head...THEY'LL NEVER TOP EM. second of all, they will leave out important moments, just as simple as it sounds, and trust me they will, just like they do with most of the live adaptations of books. Third of all, SHIP WARS!!! I phisically can't with ship war, like I'VE HAD ENOUGH OF EM IN THE PAST WHEN THE BOOKS WERE STILL COMING OUT. And just the thought of Averygrayson shipper saying "yeah Avery and jameson were endgame in the books but they might change it in the movie..." GIVES ME NIGHTMARES. and overall, not everything needs a live adaptation yk? sometimes things just have to stay the way they are.

3. ...this is a bit contrevertial.and i don't want to sound like a hater since i've said this a multiple times before but Rohan's pov was my least favourite in the grandest games. Purely bcs whatever Savannah and Rohan had going on...don't get me wrong, i like Savannah (even tho she did and said some fucked up things) and Rohan, SEPERATLY. But them being together...idk man, they were too..."booktokish" for my liking, yk? and i do love banter and teasing, but they were like basic "i like you but i like winning more" "couple". Not to mention they were so random...like where did they come from? I remember when we first saw Sav and Rohan having the same symbols on their cards i was very excited, i expected a different dynamic between them...PLUS THE WHOLE GAME THEY JUST WANTED TO FUCK💀

4. Hating Alisa Ortega and loving Grayson Hawthorne is CRAZYYY, and i'm saying this bcs they're pretty similar in different ways. And the thing is people are mad at Alisa for "saying mean words to Libby" (she was literally doing her job, you would understand if you were at her place) MEANWHILE GRAYSON LITERALLY THREATENED A HEIRESS! (sayin this as a Gray stan) *sigh* y'all are something else🤦🏻‍♀️.

5. Ohh...this one is risky...BUT CAN Y'ALL STOP ACTING LIKE JAMESON IS BLAMELESS?? all i see is Grayson slander, AND I UNDERSTAND, he fucked up, but saying "Jameson was so much better than Grayson" is a lie, at least for me. (He was better for Avery tho) he fs made mistakes that fandoms chooses to ignore. Like lets not act like treating Avery like a toy wasn't wrong. Lets not act like him blaming Grayson for everything wasn't wrong. Let's not act like him reminding Grayson of Emily's death wasn't wrong. And i know that later on both him and Grayson had a great character development, but still, i've never seen anyone talk about this.

6. This isn't about tig. But LIKING JLBS WORK AND BEING HER FAN DOESN'T MEAN YOU'RE GLAZING HER💀 (talking about an argument i had a while ago...) like is it so hard for your brain to understand that it's called having an opinion. Idc if it's JLB or any other author, okay? Like i've read almost every Jlb's books and i love them, AND i also publicly talk about how much iblove her work, does that mean i'm glazing her? UHM NO WTF💀.

7. LET. PEOPLE. HAVE. PREFRENCE. (I'm talking about ships btw) . Someone prefers LyraGray over Averyjameson, and that's okay. Someone loves Averyjameson the most, and that's also okay, someone likes Libbynash more then Xandermax, AND THAT IS ALSO OKAY.

I'll probably do part 2, i have more to say i'm just really tired rn.

Also it's not proof read so sorry if there are many mistakes.