#i think it’ll be interesting to compare them

[fancyhalloran]

I’m still not over how underwhelming The Handmaid’s Tale was.

[lukesbenward]

honestly i think they need to stop making reboots and live remakes not because they’re bad but because they’re often dead in the water before they even air and met with THE harshest criticism that no one will ever give them a chance

[dreamyzworldlove]

hmmmmmmm i don’t mean to be rude but i wish lore olympus didn’t exist so that i could make a better hades and persephone comic

[fingertipsmp3]

Can’t tell if I actually genuinely think this job interview tomorrow is a bad idea, or I’m just trying to convince myself it is because I don’t want to do it

[everwisp]

it may be simple but boy does it work

[daydreamerdrew]

The Incredible Hulk (1968) #240

[luveline]

id love a fic of aaron hotchner with a reader who struggles with feeling interesting or desirable!! i love your work sm you're lovely!!

thank you for requesting! fem, 1k

The table grain is flaking off under your nail. Oh, ew, you think, lips turning down into a frown. You pick at your nail, wonder if that’s disgusting, and hide your hands under the table rather than continue to scratch it apart. 

The team are talking about their weekend plans. You’re not super hungry and these conversations tend to put you off either way; faced with the smallness of your own life outside of them, you waver in a tepid mix of jealousy and insecurity. There’s no point offering your plans. Compared to them, it’ll sound strange. 

Morgan’s buying a house. Reid’s going to a University for a private seminar given by one of the country’s leading geneticists. Hotch will be spending the weekend with his family, hopefully teaching Jack how to swim. It goes on and on and on. They all have interests and people and things to do, and you’ll be tucking yourself into bed to try and forget you don’t. 

Hotch glances at you again, the fourth time in as many minutes. You decide to pretend you’ve only noticed this time rather than having felt every look, turning your face subtly to his. 

You okay? he asks without speaking, his eyebrows raised a touch, his gaze searching. 

You smile easily. You’re practised in this. 

He reaches under the table for your thigh. Your breath catches, your face squared into hopeless unaffectedness as he rubs your knee. Things with him are achingly new, months and months of wanting and now weeks of getting to have it, but perhaps that’s why you’re feeling your inadequacy so harshly. Why does he want to touch you? Forget interesting, you aren’t interesting, and you certainly aren’t pretty. 

He gives your knee a gentle shake as he rubs your leg through your pants, as though saying, I’m here, or even cheer up.  

You smile down at your plate. I’m fine. 

“Time to turn in,” Hotch says, dropping his napkin onto his plate. 

Your head snaps up to look at him, worried you’ve pissed him off and missing the heat of his hand, but he’s holding his hand out toward you in such a way that you read him. Come with me.

“Me too,” you say. “I’m tired.” 

You’re not even halfway down the hall out of the hotel restaurant when he’s grabbing you from behind, a huge hug that surprises you into loud, loud laughter. “Hotch–”

“Try again.” 

“Aaron,” —he walks you a few dragging steps to an alcove, where he turns you, holding your waist— “this is brute force!” You laugh. 

“This is concern. What’s wrong?” 

He’s trying to be the cheerful one. It’s working, some, but it adds another layer to your self-doubt; your grumpy, sweetheart boyfriend is never not smiling when he’s alone with you. It doesn’t make any sense. 

“Nothing,” you say, laughing again as he squeezes your hip meanly. “It’s brute force!” 

“You’re a liar,” he says, leaning down to kiss your jaw. “My liar, but a liar. A bad one, considering.” 

“Yes, well, all the teasing is making it better, so thanks.” 

He kisses under your jaw. He feels encompassingly tall, and his affection makes you feel better no matter how much you’d wanted to be sullen. You lean heavily against the wall and let him kiss you, your hand coming up to his hair, fingers raking through the soft crop of inky hair at his neck. “You’re sulking,” he says between kisses, shivers at your back from his eager touching. 

“I’m boring.” 

“Where might you get that idea?” 

“I have nothing to do this weekend. When we get home, I have nothing to do but lie in bed.” 

“I wish that was my weekend.” He peels back. He doesn’t hold your face, but the way he looks at you has the same effect. So strange how he can make you feel cared for in such a simple action. “You can always come with me, hm? We’ll have the weekend together. Jack won’t mind.” 

“Thank you… it’s a nice offer.” You’ll take it. 

“But not the problem.” He’s standing close enough to get you in trouble should a teammate come from the restaurant after you. Still, he stays close, the very tips of his fingers pushing against the hem of your shirt to touch the naked small of your back. “Will you come over?” he asks in a murmur. 

“I’d love to,” you say honestly. “I just wish I was more interesting.” 

Your confession makes him frown. “In what world aren’t you?”

“This one.” 

“That’s not true. You’re interesting, you’re so smart. You’re lovely.” 

You turn your face from him, heart beating a sudden pitter patter. He turns you right back to him with a finger to your chin. 

“You’re everything,” he says. 

“But I feel so… nothing.” 

His frown intensifies. “How long have you been feeling like this, honey? You could’ve told me. I wish you’d told me, because–” He pinches your chin gently, encouraging you to meet his eyes, “I would’ve told you a long time ago that you’re not nothing, you couldn’t be. It’s easy to feel like you don’t know what you’re doing, at your age–”

“Careful.” 

“It’s true. You think you’re so old, but you have time.” 

“I’m not old,” you acquiesce. 

His hand moves to your cheek. “But you have so many frown lines.” 

“Alright, I’ve had enough of you, Hotchner. We’re done.” 

He raises his other hand to hold your face completely. “You are so, so amazing. You just need to recognise it in yourself.” 

You wait for him to kiss you, and then realise what he’s doing. “Maybe I'm amazing,” you say shyly. 

He kisses you on the lips, gentle, as though you were easily breakable. A little rougher when you smile, and rougher again when you touch his chest. “We’ll get caught,” he says, planting another quick one on you before pulling away. “Come on. Let’s get a head start on the weekend.” 

“We’ll definitely get caught,” you say. Sharing a room is always a stupid idea. 

“And what a shame it’ll be,” he says, taking your hand to rub your fingers affectionately as he leads you toward the elevators. 

[p1utofairy]

PAC: “one hit of your love addicted me. now i’m strung out on you, darlin’, can’t you see?” 🕊️🕰️✨📨

• what will your first love be like?

disclaimer ✩: take what resonates, leave what doesn't. i wanted to try something new by including edits but ofc tumblr is annoying and doesn’t let you post more than 1 video ugh. hope you all enjoy this though! love you much.

PILE ONE.

hey pile 1 🎀 right off the bat i gotta say…your person could possibly give anakin skywalker vibes visually lolololol very tall, handsome and broody. i'm also thinking of jon snow from ‘game of thrones’ hmmm i think this just ties into the fact that your person is in their bag a good 85% of the time! they analyze and process their thoughts & emotions a lot, and this won’t change especially when it comes to their love and devotion for you. they are very intense and purposeful when it comes to love — there’s no faking it or forcing it. they say what they mean, and mean what they say. they hold themselves to a very high standard so i think they’ll be in their head a lot when it comes down to approaching you/courting you. they want to make sure that they’re doing and saying the right things…they want to make sure that you’re comfortable. they will prioritize you and take the time out to really get to know you! they don’t want to do the whole cliché “wyd” texts or just take you out to the movies. no, they want to be able to take you to places you’ve never been before & treat you to beautiful experiences that will stay with you forever. that’s how highly they think of you, pile 1! they think you deserve the best of the best and they will do everything in their power to give you just that. this person has been through a lot in their life and they’ve felt so alone and misunderstood. 9x out of 10 if they just got out of a relationship, their ex didn’t understand them or couldn’t match them emotionally. your person is big on “everything happens for a reason” so when you come into their life they’re going to feel so much joy and relief, it’s like you’re their saving grace. it’s that energy of — where have you been all my life? that scene of anakin and padmé in ‘star wars: attack of the clones’ on the balcony is coming to mind…the longing in their eyes before they share their first kiss. a lot of people may talk about y'alls relationship/how y'all got together. it's nothing scandalous…i just see people being infatuated? i’m picking up a lot of outside influences/opinions so just be careful of that…don't have too many people in your business cause i’m picking up that some of these people don’t have the best intentions and are secretly jealous. it’s giving very much “fan behavior” hm they might keep tabs or ask lots of questions about you and your person’s relationship…it’s weird. i think for some of you, you’ve been single for a long time, so it’s going to be a shock to a lot of people when you pop out with this person. once your person comes into your life you may start to notice multiple people show romantic interest in you and you’ll be like??? where tf were y’all at when i was single for ____ years?! LMFAOOOOO that’s hilarious but back to your first love, it’ll be beautifully intense. i see you giggling a lot, staring at your person with big starry eyes and a lot of physical touch between you two. it may not even be in a flashy way? i can just see you coming up behind them and placing a hand on their back to make your presence known…i see a lot of moments of them holding you in their arms and resting their forehead against yours — they’re looking at you with so much intensity…deep concentration and passion etched across their face and you just break out into this bright smile and they just melt. you look so innocent compared to them like there’s this light in your eyes that’s left their own a long time ago, but they feel so safe…so free to be themselves when they’re with you. you’re their heart, pile 1. i’m hearing that scene from ‘the bear’ when carmy tells sydney “i couldn’t do it without you. i wouldn’t even want to do it without you…” AWWWWEEEEEE.

via tnqkins on tiktok

other channeled messages:

who's that girl? by eve, shravana moon/rising, doe eyes, baby pink, curly hair, strong arms, yin & yang energy, younger/age difference, vishaka scorpio moon, hypnotic gaze, 10:10, mirroring each other, distinct cologne

PILE TWO.

heyyy pile 2! you will NOT expect to fall in love with this person wow, your feelings for them will actually catch you off guard. this person is not your usual type and that's what's so intriguing about them…you’ll never know what to expect with them; they’ll keep you on your toes. i think that you keep repeating cycles or keep going back to someone who is no good for you, but once you meet this person there’s no going back. you’ll gravitate towards them like a month drawn to a flame lol you can’t fight these feelings even if you wanted to. you might meet this person through a mutual friend or meet them in a group setting, i see other people around you both as you talk and get to know each other. there’s so much warmth that this person radiates…they feel like home to you. a hug from them could fix your bad day, a kiss from them could make your heart skip a beat 🥹 and their smile?! to see them smile at you will give you an instant serotonin boost. this relationship feels divine…it feels fated. it’s giving “right person at the right time” like everything leading up to this connection will make so much sense once you’re actually together. some of you that chose this pile are quick to self-sabotage or cut off a relationship before you can get too emotionally invested. you’ve built these walls up because you’ve been through a lot of shit and you don’t want the extra baggage a relationship can sometimes bring, but it’s gonna be different with this person. you’re going to be so open to receiving their love and reciprocating it, there’s going to be such a healthy balance between you two. i’m hearing that this person is going to be a wish fulfillment, pile 2. this might be a long distance relationship at first — you might have to travel to see each other or you both will like to travel to different places together. they will value you so much! they will wine and dine you, surprise you with your favorite things and make sure you always have whatever your heart desires. they love you and they will have no problem showing that.

other channeled messages:

short king, sagittarius, bisexual, when harry met sally, opposites attract, capricorn man, matcha latte, boyfriend by big time rush, saturn dominant, west virgina, virgo/6H placements, ruby, freckles

PILE THREE.

pile 333 🦢 whoa i'm already picking up that this is a love that only grows stronger and better with time; it ages like fine wine. WOW WOW WOW. i'm ngl i feel like this person is your divine counterpart…when i say you two are a match made in heaven — i mean it. you complete each other in ways that other people will never truly understand. there’s this unspoken love and desire between you two initially; i see you both stealing a lot of glances at each other, waiting for the other to cave in and say something…anything. you both want to close that space between you but don’t know exactly how to. i don’t think either of you has ever felt this way before about anybody 😮‍💨 this love is strong AF. it’s never a dull moment between you two, there’s always that underlying passion and spark ready to consume you both. i’m picking up that either your ex or their ex is going to be very envious of this relationship. they almost feel blindsided in a sense…they thought you were going to come back to them and give them another chance, so it's going to make them feel some type of way when they see that you’ve moved on. please be cautious of this ex pile 3…they don’t have good intentions at all and i pick up an obsessive vibe from them. we are blocking that all the way out 🧿 anyways! your person’s love language is more than likely quality time…they loveeeeeee spending time with you and stepping out of their comfort zone to try things that you like. there’s a solid friendship at the root of this connection pile 3…like not only is this person your lover, but they’re also your best friend wrapped into one. you will give them the key to your heart and vice versa. any other options or third party situations will be cut off/left behind because all you both can see is each other! nothing and no one can tear this relationship down because it’s built on such a strong foundation, you can see yourself with this person years down the line from now and they feel the exact same way. you’re home to them. i know this is your first love pile 3 but i wouldn’t be surprised if they popped the question 💍 — i'm just sayinnnnnnnnnn!

other channeled messages:

feel it by jacquees ft. lloyd & rich homie quan, la perla lingerie, just left a toxic relationship, rock the boat by aaliyah, air sign placements, 26, 111, lemon drop, leo, jaded by drake

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Hello! I am SO hyperfixated on the fact that the overblot form CAN be controlled??? That’s the case with Malleus isn’t it? And I guess on one hand I can see how Idia can control it too because of his “curse/blessing” (and sheer will and spite).

Maybe this is foreshadowing that maybe it’s possible for the other OB boys to do so as well???? I don’t know how it’ll work with them but I’m so excited. Overblot cards potential AAAH

I’d love to hear more of your thoughts on this!

[Referencing this post!}

Yeah, I definitely think that OB Idia battle segment opens the floodgates for potential SSR Overblot Troublemaker(s) cards 💀 (RIP to the OB gang fans)

As a refresher for everyone (since it has been a while), alllllll the way back in book 1, Crowley and Cater describe “overblot” as thus: “[… being] overcome by negative energy and[…] losing control of [one’s] magic and emotions,” and “evil berserk mode”.

We’ve seen many examples of these traits in the main story campaign; oftentimes, the OB boy in question is impossible to reason with and has to be subdued via battle. However, it’s important to note that while the OBs may be primarily driven by their emotions, it is not purely rage but rather negative feelings in general. Yes, many OBs (Riddle, Leona, Azul, Vil, etc.) do attack others—but other OBs demonstrate moments of calm (ie when their demands are met). For example, Jamil is tame when he believes he has banished Kalim, secured hypnotized Scarabia mobs, and reigns over the dorm as its new leader. I do believe anger is still a large component of the behavior of one who has overblotted though; that rage most certainly clouds a person’s judgment and compels them to strike out at the slightest thing.

Now, about the idea of “controlling” OBs… I don’t that that can actually be done?? We have to remember that Malleus is a VERY powerful mage—and this alone could give him an “edge” that others don’t when it comes to being fully aware while in OB (though I believe both Malleus and Vil indicate early on they notice their blot building). As Idia’s dad states, Malleus is drawing his magic from nature itself and therefore has a limitless supply it. Secondly, I wouldn’t call Malleus’s OB “controlling” it to begin with. It’s clear that he’s still running high on emotions and is unwilling to hear others out or have them interfere with his plans. These are still traits associated with OB; it’s not as though Malleus is “overriding” the unreasonable thoughts, he is still ruled by them and acts on them. I think what you (maybe?) mean is that Malleus has a much more calculating approach and more precise control over how he wields his power rather than indiscriminately smashing stuff in his path. This, again, could do with his insane power level compared to his peers. Unlike most other OBs, his goal (at least in his own framing) before he overblotted to begin with wasn’t to “take away”, but rather to “gift” happy endings to everyone. This sets him apart just based on interests alone, and that’s perhaps why he acts the most different in the lot.

Now let’s consider the circumstances under which Idia OBs a second time: it’s in a dream, meaning it’s questionable whether or not this would transfer over to real life. Because it’s Idia’s dream, he has more autonomy in it, particularly because he is now “awake”/conscious of the fact that it is a dream. Secondly, Idia bears the Shroud family’s curse/blessing, which allows him to “power up” the more blot is present, as it serves as fuel for his magic. This alone makes him a “special case” which could explain the unusual amount of control he exerts over his OB form. (Again though, I’d wager it’s mostly the dream environment.)

I do see maybe the other OB boys doing a similar “oh, lemme OB to help you guys fight” in a dream situation where there are fewer limits on what they can do, but not in a real world setting. It would put them all at risk anyway, as they lack Idia’s curse/blessing or Malleus’s fae powers. Is that worth the risk, knowing they could all die or potentially turn on their classmates?

I just don’t see OB becoming a “tool” or a magical girl transformation the characters could pull out for combat purposes in the story (though this is possible for like the gameplay outside of the story). I highly doubt OB is like something you could train yourself to control; it’s less like bulking up at the gym and more like pushing yourself to keep exercising while you’re high on adrenaline… Sooner or later, you’d burn out and injure yourself in that overexertion.

If there ever are OB cards, I can easily see them as being the type that don’t come with vignettes because… what reasonable story could you conjure up to explain the OBing again? If there are vignettes, then they most likely won’t fit into the main story canon. You’d have to frame the OB cards as “within the moment” of whatever book they OB’d in, and perhaps go more in-depth about the trauma or something along those lines.

[writeonwhiskey]

the skz house: ch 2

Summary: Welcome to Sigma Kappa Zeta, the most popular fraternity on campus. When you, down on your luck and looking for a place to live, see their ad for ‘IN-HOUSE STAY’. You're one of the four girls chosen and find that your duties for the rest of the school year will be cooking, cleaning, and pleasing your assigned house members: Hyunjin & Bang Chan.

[ Read Chapter One Here ]

Chapter Two: Of Ex's and Teslas

The thought process you go through to choose a room winds up being pretty simple, after all. In your interactions with Chan, it felt as if he were just going through the motions and accommodating you, whereas Hyunjin made you feel safe and welcome. Compared to the quiet version of Chan you’d experienced in class since the start of the semester, he seemed a little intimidating and blunt today.

How had you ended up paired with them when one hardly seemed interested in speaking to you? As you sit on your bed you start to wonder how they chose who would be assigned to who. Was there some ranking system? Rock, Paper, Scissors? Drawing names out of a hat?

The door to the room you’re waiting in opens and you sit up straight on the bed, hands folded in your lap.

A small smile crosses Hyunjin’s lips as he sees you sitting there. 

“You chose me for your first night?” He places a hand to his heart as he closes the door behind him. “I’m touched, y/n.”

His presence throughout the day had put you at ease. You feel that spending the night with him will continue to help rid any lingering discomfort.

He walks in the room and throws himself down on the bed, landing on his stomach. He props his head up on his arm and stares at you in silence for a moment before shifting his gaze to the sheets on your bed. 

“Nice choice,” he says with a nod. He looks back to you. “How are you feeling?”

You take a deep breath and open your eyes wide, shaking your head softly. 

“Weird,” you reply. 

Hyunjin suddenly sits up on the bed with his legs crossed beneath him. 

“What do you want to do to fix that?” He asks.

You think it over for a moment. He’s patient, leaning back on his hands as he waits. 

“I would like to organize my schedule with yours and Chan’s. Getting this new version of my life under control will help, I think.”

“Let’s do that then. I’ll be right back.” He gets off the bed and leaves the room. 

While waiting for him to return, you pull up your class schedule on your phone. You send a text to Chan, asking him to send his too. 

When Hyunjin returns he has a large, monthly whiteboard calendar in hand. He walks to your bed and hands it to you, along with four small square adhesives. You take it from his hand and he then pulls out several different colored dry erase markers from his back pocket. A smile breaks out on your face as you stand.

“Thank you.” 

“I’ll send you my schedule. I’ll be right over there with my headphones on but let me know if you need me, okay?” He points to his desk. 

“Can you help me put this up first? It’ll be crooked if I do it,” you furrow your brow. 

He laughs softly and takes the whiteboard back from your hands. He places it face down on the bed and puts the adhesives in each corner. 

“Where do you want it?” 

You walk around the edge of the bed and gesture at the empty space on the wall there. He holds the whiteboard against the wall, moving it up and down until you agree on the placement height. He leans back, checking the leveling before pressing it to the wall. He forces down the left side as you press on the right. After a minute you both step back.

“Good?” He asks. 

You both turn to look at each other and this is the closest you’ve ever been to his face. His blonde hair is tucked behind his ears, with a couple loose strands framing his face. His dark eyebrows draw your attention first, then his beautifully shaped eyes with barely-there lashes. Beneath his left eye is a freckle you hadn’t noticed before. Your eyes then fall down to his plump, pink lips and without even realizing it, you lick your own.

“Perfect,” you smile again.

He goes to his art desk, pops in his headphones and absorbs himself in whatever he’s working on. 

You let out a sigh, feeling confident you made the right choice for the night. 

You busy yourself with organizing this new chaos into something that at least kind of makes sense to you. Every so often you turn back to look at Hyunjin—he’s in his own world, moving his pencil across his drawing pad. One time when you turn to look at him, he’s looking at you too. You both giggle and shift your eyes around the room before returning to what you were doing. 

When you’ve finished getting the entire month of October on the calendar, you feel satisfied. The only thing left to add is the cleaning and cooking schedule whenever you figure that out. 

You check your phone for the time and see that it’s almost 9:30pm. 

You grab your bag of toiletries from the shelf in the closet and walk to Hyunjin. You lightly place a hand on his shoulder and it startles him. He takes out his left earbud and tilts his head up.

“I’m gonna shower,” you tell him. 

“Okay,” he squints his eyes. “You don’t have to tell us your every move or ask permission to do anything. You live here too, now.”

“It will take some getting used to,” you shrug. He nods his understanding and puts his earbud back in. 

You exit the room and walk down the hall to the last door on the right. You hadn’t got a full look at the girls bathroom yet, so you’re not sure what to expect. When you open the door, you’re taken aback by the amount of space inside. There are four sinks total, two immediately to the right and left as you walk in. Just after the sinks on either side of the wall is a bathroom door that you assume leads to the toilets. Against the back wall are two glass shower stalls with a large bath tub between them and a window directly above that. 

The door to your right opens and out walks one of the girls from earlier. She’s the one assigned to Felix and Lee Know. She looks at you and offers a smile. 

“Y/n, right?” She asks. You nod. “Allie.”

She goes to the sink to wash her hands.

“How’s it going for you?” You ask, sitting your bag down on the counter. 

“Honestly?” She asks, looking at you through the mirror. “It’s fucking strange, bro.”

You laugh and nod your agreement. 

“I feel super out of place but Hyunjin has been really sweet.”

“That’s good. Felix and Lee Know have been super welcoming,” she says as she dries her hands. “Here, take down my number so we can figure out cooking and cleaning stuff. I’ll start a group chat with the other girls.”

You take out your phone and put her number in, thankful to be on the same page. 

“Towels are in this cabinet,” she points to the one at the end of the counter. “Oh, and one of the other girls is taking care of breakfast for everyone tomorrow. She’s already offered.”

“Awesome. Thank you, Allie.”

“You’re welcome. See you around,” she says with a wink and walks out of the bathroom. 

You place your hands on the counter and lean forward, looking at your reflection in the mirror. Your mind unwillingly drifts to thoughts of your ex-boyfriend. What would he say if he knew about what you got yourself into? What would your parents say? You’d be dead. You can’t tell anyone about this, but at least there may be some sense of camaraderie with the other girls. No one but them will understand or relate to what you’re going through anyways. 

______________

After your shower, you return to Hyunjin’s room clad in pajama pants and a shirt, but he’s not there. You go down to the living room and see Felix, Lee Know, and Allie sitting on the sectional, watching something on TV. Lee Know has his arm around the back of the couch and she’s leaning towards him slightly. They seem comfortable. You walk past them and into the kitchen to grab a water bottle from the fridge. 

As soon as you enter, you see the refrigerator door is already ajar. A familiar looking, muscular armed is holding it open. When he steps back from the fridge and closes it, your assumptions are confirmed. It’s Chan. He’s holding a plate of sliced watermelon. 

You feel your heart rate pick up as his eyes land on yours. It feels awkward, but you don’t know if you should say something or not. Should you explain why you chose to stay with Hyunjin over him? Does it matter? Does he care? 

“Enjoy your night,” he says casually before walking around you and out of the kitchen. 

You’re not sure what to make of him so you try to shrug it off and retrieve a water bottle from the fridge. 

Once back in Hyunjin’s room, you toss the water bottle on your bed and get your backpack ready for tomorrow mornings class, swapping out the books inside. When you stand, you see there’s been a few additions to the calendar, undoubtedly by Hyunjin. On October 3rd it now also reads BANG CHANS’ B-DAY. And on on October 25th, LEE MINHO’S B-DAY. 

Shit. 

Today is October 1st. Will they be doing something for Chan’s birthday? Should you get him something? You don’t know him well enough to pick out a thoughtful gift. 

You plop down on your bed and check your phone. Allie has started the group chat with the girls and you send a message back with what days of the week you’re available to prepare meals or help out around the house. 

The door swings open and Hyunjin walks back in, wearing pajamas and towel drying his hair.

“Let’s watch something,” he says. He takes his laptop out of his backpack and tosses it on his bed. 

“Like what?” You ask. He could mean porn for all you know. 

He shrugs, “We’ll pick a show and it’ll be ours to watch together.”

His words make you feel warm. 

He sits down on his bed and opens the laptop. When he looks up to see you haven’t moved he pats the spot next to him. You move over to his bed, bending one knee on the mattress but keeping the other foot on the ground. He goes to Netflix and starts scrolling through the options. 

“Anything you want to watch?”

You purse your lips as he continues to scroll, seeing what catches your eye.

“That one,” you point to the screen and he stops scrolling. 

“‘It’s Okay To Not Be Okay’?” He reads the title. 

“I’ve heard its good.”

“Alright, let's check it out.” He moves the laptop up on the bed and lays on his stomach, looking at you expectantly until you to do the same. 

He presses play on the show and though you’re trying your hardest to concentrate on it, you can’t help but be overly aware of how close you two are. On his bed. You feel butterflies in your stomach as you sneak a glance at him from the corner of your eye. You force yourself to pay attention to the show and soon enough, you’re feeling more at ease. 

You laugh and share moments of surprise as you watch the show together. When it ends, he looks over at you.

“Another one?” He asks. 

“I’m kind of tired, actually,” you say. 

“Okay,” he closes the laptop. “That was pretty good, though. Don’t watch any more episodes without me.”

“I won’t,” you reply with a smile. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” his tone is sincere. 

“What really brought all of this on for Sigma Kappa Zeta?”

“Hmmm,” he says, rolling on his side to look at you. He props his head up on his left hand. “It started out a while back…Class of ’95, I think. It was kind of like an experiment at first. They wanted to see how the members lives and future prospects improved if they weren’t worried about running around chasing women. Certain rules and guidelines have definitely changed since then but…yeah, I guess that’s how it began.”

“So it was all driven by the male need to get laid?” You turn on your side to face him too.

He laughs, “Not really…for some, it’s just the companionship. Having a woman to do things with, flirt with, it doesn’t have to always be sex. Just being around someone you’re attracted to can help you relax and release endorphins or whatever.”

“So it only matters if the men are attracted to the women, not the other way around?”

He moves his right hand to middle of your back and swiftly pulls you flush against him. 

“Are you saying you’re not attracted to me?” His voice is low and soft as velvet as he speaks. 

Your breath catches in your throat at the sudden movement. Your faces are close, noses just centimeters apart. Your eyes once again fall down to his plump lips. He closes the distance between you and nuzzles your nose with his. 

“Hmmm?” He hums. 

“I—I was just asking,” you finally say. 

He tilts his head up slightly and his lips land on yours. It’s a soft and innocent peck of a kiss, but it causes the butterflies in your stomach to go haywire. 

He breaks the kiss and lays flat on his back looking up at the ceiling. 

“That’s dopamine and serotonin coursing through you right now,” he says, turning his head to the side to look at you with a smug smile on his face. “Feels good, right?”

“You jerk,” you say, pushing his shoulder as you laugh. 

“Hey, I’m just trying to give you a thorough explanation.” He replies. 

You sit up and start to move towards your bed, but he grabs your hand before you can. 

“It also feels good cuddling up to someone when you sleep.” He’s looking up at you with wide, pleading eyes and a puppy dog pout. He’s exceptionally good at controlling his facial expressions. 

You can’t help but smile at his antics and sit back down on the bed. He puts his laptop on the nightstand and then moves the comforter down. You lift your hips up so he can pull it down from where you are and tuck your legs underneath it. He gets up to turn off the light before climbing back in bed. He then lays on his back and wraps an arm around you, pulling you towards him. 

You turn on your side and rest your head on him, placing your hand on his chest. You expect the closeness to feel awkward, but your body instantly relaxes against him. 

“Thanks for adding those dates to my calendar,” you tell him.

“Of course,” he replies. “I gotta tell you something, though.” He places a hand on your leg, above the blanket, and pulls on it so its hooked across his waist.

“Yeah?”

“I hate calendars and schedules,” he declares. “I’ll stick to our days, of course…but outside of that I don’t like having things planned. Just looking at that thing gives me anxiety.”

You slap his chest and he chuckles. You appreciate him even more, right now. The fact that he could care less about calendars and planning, but jumped straight into action to appease you and bring you some sort of comfort says a lot about him. You snuggle closer to his body. 

“We’re gonna have some issues then because I can’t live without planning,” you say. 

You share words back and forth until you start to doze off. Hyunjin lightly rubs your arm and the soothing movements eventually lull you to sleep. 

______________

You wake up the next morning on your back with Hyunjin curled up to your side, his arm strewn across your stomach. You don’t remember when this switch up happened in the middle of the night, but it brings a smile to your face. You’re in a good mood, waking up next to him. He was right—it did feel nice to cuddle up with someone for bed. By the time you and your ex had moved in together, that rarely happened. This is only the first night though, so you wonder if the butterflies will eventually wear off. Or maybe knowing that your time with him is limited will keep the spark going. 

Your alarm is going off and your phone is all the way on your bed. You have to lift Hyunjin’s arm off you, to which he mumbles in protest before rolling over to his other side. You grab your phone from the bed then sit back next to Hyunjin and silence the alarm. There’s a loud knock at the door, causing you to jump in surprise. Hyunjin doesn’t budge.

“What?” His shout is muffled as his face is partially in mattress. 

“Coming in,” you hear Chan’s voice on the other side of the door. 

He walks in the room, looking from Hyunjin, to you, then your untouched bed. He nods his head softly for some reason, but you can’t tell what he’s thinking. You can, however, imagine what he’s assuming. He knows what you’re here for though, so even though you hadn’t had sex with Hyunjin last night…it shouldn’t have been a surprise if you did, right?

“We both have a class this morning, we’ll ride together,” he says to you. “Get dressed and come downstairs.”

For a moment you wonder how he knows your schedule, but remember it was included on your application. You also think that this could have been sent in a text message and been just fine, but you nod your acceptance. 

“Stop talking,” Hyunjin groans into his pillow. “Get out.”

“I’ll be down soon,” you say softly. 

When Chan is gone and the door is closed, you get up from the bed and find clothes to wear for the day. You try to keep quiet as not to disturb Hyunjin, but a foghorn could probably sound and he wouldn’t even flinch. 

You go to the bathroom to get dressed, brush your teeth and throw your hair up into a ponytail. It’s 8:00am, but the house is still relatively quiet when you make it downstairs. Chan is sitting on the sofa staring down at his phone. You hear movement in the kitchen and the smell of breakfast cooking.

“Did you eat?” You ask.

“Not big on breakfast,” he replies, sparing a glance up at you before returning his attention to his phone. “Go get yourself something.”

You think back to the statement of them not being demanding yesterday. He sure seems pretty damn demanding. Everything he’s said to you this morning has come out as a command. 

You walk down the hall into the kitchen and see Rhiannon—she’s with Changbin and Seungmin—making breakfast. She’s multitasking like a champ. Scrambling eggs, frying bacon, and making waffles. There’s even a plate of freshly cut fruit on the counter. 

You’re not sure if Chan is expecting you to sit and eat or grab food and go. You feel more conflicted than you should about making the decision on your own, but you don’t want to ask him to clarify. You grab a paper plate from the pantry, put a waffle on it and some eggs and bacon on top. You smother it with syrup and thank Rhiannon, telling her you’ve got lunch covered for the day. 

“Let’s go,” you say to Chan when you’re back in the living room. 

He stands from the couch and looks at the plate in your hand. For a moment you think he’s going to say something about eating and making a mess in the car. He instead just nods and leads you both out of the house to the long driveway. There are four Tesla’s parked in it—red, dark blue, black, and white. He walks to the red one and you follow.

When you’re both inside and buckled up, he starts the car. You fold the waffle into a sort of taco and eat  as he drives. 

“How was your first night?” He asks, eyes trained on the road. “Were you guys up late?”

You look over to him. The way he says it sounds a bit criticizing and you wonder if there’s some rule they didn’t cover about sleeping schedules or getting to bed at a decent hour. 

“No,” you shake your head, “we just watched a show, then went to bed.”

He nods his head, but does not respond. He continues driving in silence as you eat, feeling so fucking confused about his behavior. The drive to the school only takes about ten minutes. When he parks, you turn to look at him again. 

“Did I do something wrong, Chan?” You ask, confused. 

He’s looking down at the steering wheel and it feels like an eternity passes as you wait for an answer.

“No,” he says flatly.

You’re not convinced by his answer. Granted, you don’t know him well at all and it’s not as though you’re expecting him to roll out a red carpet to welcome you, but…in this clusterfuck of a situation he could try to be a little less cold. You’re trying your best to go along with everything and act like it’s normal, he could at least meet you half way.

 “You haven’t done anything wrong, y/n.” He speaks again after another moment of silence. “I’m just in my head a lot these days, don’t mind me.”

How could you not mind him when you’ll be living with him, sleeping in the same room as him?

“Okay,” you reply, for lack of anything better to say. 

You both exit the car and start walking towards the campus entrance. 

“Y/n!” A voice calls from behind you. 

You know that voice. 

Chan continues walking a few paces, but you stop and turn around. 

There he is, jogging towards you. He’s wearing the t-shirt you got him of his favorite band. You used to love the sight of it on him. Now you want to rip it off him and burn it. 

“Did you block my number?” He asks when he comes to stop in front of you. He glances over your shoulder and you turn around to see Chan standing there. One hand gripping the strap of his backpack and the other in his pocket, watching both of you. 

“Yes,” you reply with ease, turning back to face him.

“Where are you staying?” His gaze continues to shift from you to Chan. “And did I see you get out of his car?”

“It really isn’t any of your concern, honestly,” you shrug. “You made that very clear last week.”

He sighs and puts his hand on your shoulder, bending down slightly to look you directly in the eyes. 

“I never wanted things to go this way. I can still see myself having a future with you, I just think we both need some freedom right now.”

“Oh?” You push his hand off your shoulder. “And by freedom you mean you kicking me out of the house we were supposed to share and being able to fuck the girls in your DM’s? And then what? You want to get back together with me when you’ve had your fill of them?” 

You can’t help the way that your voice rises as you speak to him. Your fist is clenched at your side as you feel the anger you’ve been suppressing for the past week coming back to the surface. You had been able to keep yourself preoccupied with focusing on other things like finding somewhere to live and the SKZ house. Having him speak to you now reminds you that you haven’t truly dealt with or buried those emotions yet. 

You feel someone come up behind you and glance over your shoulder. It’s Chan. 

“You good?” He asks you, but his eyes are on your ex. He reaches forward, lightly grabbing the back of your arm and pulling you back towards him. 

“What is this?” Your ex asks, a confused look on his face.

“I’m fine,” you reply to Chan before turning to face your ex once again. “And you don’t have the right to ask me anything anymore. It’s none of your business.”

Before he can say anything else, you look at Chan and nod. You both turn around and resume your walk into the building. Chan’s hand slides down to yours and he gives it a gentle squeeze. It’s a comforting gesture, the most kindness you’ve felt from him thus far. 

“I’m sorry,” you say once you’re in the hall. “That was—“

“Your ex. I know,” he finishes for you, dropping your hand. “Remember our house rules.”

And just like that, his kindness is gone. He doesn’t give you a chance to say anything else as he walks off towards his own class. 

You want to shout an expletive at him, but you refrain. You have two classes to make it through today, you can’t have your thoughts clouded with your ex or Chan right now. 

As you wait for the professor to arrive and give his lecture, you contemplate everything that’s happened in the past 24 hours. You glance around at your classmates, wondering what they might say if they knew what you had signed up for—what you agreed to be a part of. Would they judge you? Criticize you? All your three years at this school and you’d never heard about what happens at the Sigma Kappa Zeta house…maybe your secret is safe.

The three hour lecture seems to drag. Your next class feels even longer. It’s 2:00pm by the time you’re leaving campus and you contemplate texting Chan for a ride to the house but can’t bring yourself to do it. He only had one class this morning and was probably long gone from campus, so you don’t want to inconvenience him by asking him to come back for you. It’s only about a thirty minute walk from campus, so you start to leg it. 

As you walk, you’ve just barely made it a few minutes from campus when a dark blue Tesla pulls up to the side of you, driving slowly. You spare a glance over and see Seungmin in the driver seat. He flashes a brilliantly white smile and jerks his head, motioning for you to get in the car. 

“I thought that was you,” he says as you climb in. 

“Seungmin, right?” You ask. 

“In the Tesla,” he replies with a wink. 

“Thank you,” you reply with a smile. “Did you have class?”

“Practice,” he says, gesturing to the back seat. 

You look behind you and see a sports bag, cleats, mitt, and baseball bat on the floor in the back. 

“You’re on the team?” You ask, surprised. 

“Team Captain,” he says with a nod.

“That’s awesome. I’ll have to watch you play some time.”

“That might be frowned upon.” He says with a sad look. “You might fall in love with me.”

You let out a loud and unexpected laugh and he grins. You continue making small talk the rest of the way home. He’s majoring in sport business, has been playing ball since he was a kid and is hoping to play professionally in the future. He’s easy to talk to, and extremely sarcastic. 

“You hungry?” You ask as he pulls into the driveway.

“Starving,” he says, putting the car in park.

“Anything in particular you want?”

“Hmmm,” he taps his fingers on the steering wheel. “Ichiban noodles…there’s a bunch in the pantry.”

“I got you,” you say with a nod as you exit the car. 

You enter the house together and see Felix, Allie, Changbin and the fourth girl, Charlotte, in the living room with their laptops and books strewn around. 

Seungmin takes off up stairs and you head straight for the kitchen to find the biggest pot you can. The meal is quick and easy to throw together, you add a few eggs to the boiling water so they cook up before adding in the noodles. To top it off, you chop up some spring onion and sprinkle it in. You announce that the food is ready and send a text to Hyunjin and Chan as everyone who’s downstairs clamors into the kitchen to serve themselves. 

Hyunjin:

i won’t be home til later. 

Hyunjin’s response is quick. 

Chan doesn’t reply at all. 

You eat outside in the backyard with the others. It’s your first time seeing there’s a pool and jacuzzi on the property. They have corn hole set up on one side of the yard, and horseshoe on the other. This place screams frat house with all the games out here and in the basement.

“Do you guys do anything for each others birthdays?” You ask, recalling Chan and Lee Know’s upcoming birthdays. 

“It depends,” Felix says in his deep voice. “If there’s a holiday around the birthday, we might combine it all into one event…we might do something small, or big…depending what that person likes.”

“What about for Chan and Lee Know this month?”

“Chan will murder us if we do anything for him,” Seungmin says. 

Changbin and Felix nod their agreement. 

“He must not like getting old,” Seungmin adds with a shrug and smirk. 

“Lee Know on the other hand,” says Felix, “since it’s right around Halloween, we’re definitely gonna do something. Have any of you been to our Halloween parties?”

“I went to the one last year,” Charlotte says. “Can’t say I remember much from that night.”

“So it was a good time then,” Seungmin teases. 

“They’re epic,” Felix continues. “You guys can help decorate and plan, of course.”

You’re happy for the invitation to help. Though, you start to wonder what you could do for Chan. Maybe something nice to get him to soften up to you. Or take his mind off of whatever has been bothering him and making him feel cold. 

Changbin and Seungmin get into a debate about themes for the Halloween party and you excuse yourself to the kitchen. Allie helps you gather everyone’s dishes and take them inside. She unloads the dishwasher as you rinse off the dirty ones and reload it.

Everyone goes back to their laptops and notebooks in the living room after the lunch break and you join them. You could at least find comfort in knowing that homework would remain a top priority at the house, even with all the extracurricular activities taking place inside. 

You look at your phone when it buzzes.

Hyunjin:

ur back with me thursday

do NOT watch the show without me

i’ll know if u do

You:

I won’t xx

You set your phone down on the coffee table. When did they decide this? After your morning with Chan, you had kind of been hoping you’d be with Hyunjin the first three days to further acclimate yourself to the house with someone you at least got along with and could converse easily. 

But, no. You’re not that lucky. And you have no idea what to expect the next three nights you’re going to be in Chan’s room.

[ read chapter three here ]

a/n: more soon :) share your thoughts!

[sophiamarieispinkbunny-chan]

The Chair Theory Part 2

Yuri, Fiona and Damian’s Chair

This is a continuation of this post, but if you want the summary of the post, I’ve shared my thoughts about how the seating capacity or size of the designer chairs in the volume cover of each manga represents the relationship with others of the person sitting there. I’ve also shared my thoughts on how the comedic inside covers is connected to the person sitting in the cover and the person who sits in the chair in those funny inside chapters are the person who understands the person in the cover the most.

So now let’s move to Volume 5-7 and maybe I’ll analyze Yuri alongside Fiona since I’ve already tackled some of Fiona in the recent post when I compared it to Yor, but her cover and inside cover has some similarities with Yuri that I found interesting.

Volume 5 & 6, Yuri’s Barcelona Chair and Fiona’s Heart Cone Chair

Because of the position of the chair in the cover, it’s actually hard to see how big exactly the chair Yuri is sitting on, but based on most Barcelona Chair pictures that I see, it is spacious but it seem to only fit one. It could fit two but I think it’ll be uncomfortable, and Yuri seems to be taking a lot of space, indicating he doesn’t want anyone to sit there with him. I think this indicates how, even though he is now in the position that allows him to have relationships with others, he limits himself from doing this, only revolving his world around his sister. It is true Yuri is open and friendly (just not to Loid because he’s her sister’s husband) but he isn’t interested in having an intimate or deep relationship with anyone other than Yor.

I’ve already discussed how the seating capacity of Fiona’s chair indicates her selfish desire to be loved by Twilight. However, even though she loves Twilight, she will never be in a position to accept him for she didn’t love him for who he really was. He was not the perfect spy she deemed him to be. He has flaws, fears and doubts and Yor was the one who sees that everyday and embraces all his imperfections. (I have more to say about her but I've decided to put them in a separate post for I think it's going to be a long one)

So this is the part where we can notice similarities between Yuri and Fiona. Compared to the first four volumes, their inside cover wasn’t something that happens in reality. Both of their inside covers are the fantasies in their minds (notice that's its inside a thought's bubble), their deepest desires; Yuri wants to torture Loid for him and his sister to divorce their marriage (we can see him holding that divorce paper in his hand and also Loid was sitting in a different chair in the cover) while Fiona wants to marry Twilight (We can see her in a wedding dress holding a marriage certificate which opposes the one on Yuri’s and yeah she’s still the one sitting on her chair). And in Fiona’s cover, we also see her desire to get rid of Yor, the same as how Yuri wants to get rid of Loid.

But those things aren’t real, they are trapped in those fantasies and both of them seem to have no grasp of reality or are refusing to admit it. Their inside covers could also display how Yuri is Twilight's antagonist while Fiona is Yor's.

Volume 7- Damian’s Willow Chair

The Seating Capacity

Damian’s chair is too big for a little kid like him as Endo pointed out. He’s also sitting in the middle like Anya, reserving the spots on both sides for their parents. Damian craves for that familial love that was devoid of him. He always felt like he needed to prove himself and work hard in school just to be praised and get attention from his parents. That is why even though he wants to be as laid-back as Anya, and play and be like a normal kid, he can’t because he doesn’t want to disappoint. That is why all of the toys are hidden behind the chair. It was the desire to be a kid that he’s keeping within his heart. 

Oh look, a number 7 pool ball was in front. It could be because this was volume 7 but we all know Anya’s experimental number is 007 too right? Could it just be a coincidence? Maybe… or maybe not.

But in the comedic inside cover, Anya is the one sitting on his chair. Yes, Becky is also there and so is Emile and Ewen but it was Anya who was sitting there, copying his pose. Connecting to my first post, this means that the one who understands him the most is Anya. Besides from being the one who knows what’s on his mind, they were both seeking familial love and acceptance. They are both motivated by receiving praise and acknowledgement by their Fathers particularly. But Damian seems to be serious like what he looks on his cover while Anya could still be a kid and be funny inside of the Forger family.

I love how in the fan book, in Anya’s character profile, it wasn’t Loid and Yor that was in her relationship tab at the bottom, it was Loid and Damian. (Please excuse my annotations 😅)

And for the covers of both these guys, she was the one sitting in their chairs, making the serious covers comedic.

I interpret this how she is the one who makes both of Loid and Damian’s life lighter and happier and how both Loid and Damian are concealing or denying the love they feel for Anya, in terms of Loid, his love for her as a father that is way beyond the mission and for Damian, his crush on Anya that he can’t admit out of pride and embarrassment.

Okay so that concludes the second part of the chair theory. I don’t actually have a lot to say about Volume 8-13, and I don’t know what Franky’s, Becky’s and Emile and Ewen’s inside covers are. I saw the raw but I can’t understand what they’re saying. So maybe I’ll conclude the chair theory through this post for now.

I'll deal with Fiona on my next post because I just realized something but let me gather the evidences first.

[lovelybrooke]

It is I! I’m gonna be talking about Velvette finally. Also I hadn’t read your post yet but you asked for some help with stolas Ozzie and fizz and fortunately for you I’m hyper fixated on helluva boss and Hazbin hotel so eventually once I’m confident I’ll try to give you my ideas.

Now Velvette is a mix between vox’s personal obsession and Val’s cosmetic interest towards the reader. She learns of the reader from Val and Vox, and gets mixed information from the two, Val speaking of the reader based on how defensive Angel has been to Val and Vox shareing the less interesting parts of the readers life (like their hobbies) I personally find Velvette will be the last to grow an interest, but even when she does I think it’ll be more moderate, at least compared to Vox who I personally headcanon infodumps about the reader.

Also if the reader meets Velvette I feel in a way Velvette would be the least scary, because she isn’t that tall looks relatively human and uses internet lingo (also my head canon, and this is not to say the reader uses slang or internet terminology its just the reader might be familiar with it)

Velvette at first only tolerates Vox’s tangents about the reader for Vox’s sake, I know for a fact that Val would get impatient or say something snarky that bothers Vox. And because of velvette’s tolerance to him he might bless her with saved footage of the reader that he treasures or thinks is intimate (for example the reader writing something important in a diary or drawing something that might be expressing how they really feel. Or a honest smile that they rarely hold).

I also can imagine once Val has finally taken an interest of the reader, and thinks about them more often, Velvette and Val have conversations about them, without Vox though, because their contrasting perspectives on the reader has caused some tension. Val shares this morbid conception of the reader, comparing them to a pet, and sharing some information he managed to gather from Angel Dust, albeit little information.

This obviously puts Velvette in this unique position where she’s hearing information about the reader from two separate sources, and at the same time her conception and image of the reader being blend of Val and Vox’s. Val’s image of the reader being something worth complimenting makes Velvette see the reader as this doll. And Vox’s more intimate and personal image of the reader pushes Velvette to think the reader might be a chill nice person to be around.

And how this mixed conception applies is more calm? Or natural? Compared to the other two, who have more extreme conceptions. For example once Velvette takes a small liking to the reader she starts noticing certain clothes and fashion choices that don’t look good on her might look really good on the reader. When a model of hers presents an outfit Velvette might think ‘this’ll look really cute on the reader’, Velvette might even find songs that remind her of the reader (I personally see her as a gal who listens to a lot of music and values music taste. But this is also just a headcanon)

Velvette doesn’t constantly think of the reader, it’s only when certain things remind her of the reader, which just tells me that she isn’t that obsessed. She probably likes the idea of enforcing her tastes onto the reader but otherwise also enjoys some of the differences between her and the reader. It makes her a little more open to subgenres in music and fashion (especially if the reader is into that)

Velvette is basically the type of girl who might push reader into doing things that they don’t want, but she also would balance it out by letting the reader do things they want. She wants the reader to adopt some of her tastes and mannerisms, but she’s also just as equally interested in the readers tastes and mannerisms. Sure she might not fully respect the readers boundaries but at least she isn’t going out of her way to dehumanize them like Val does.

She’s much more moderate because she rarely ever hears of or sees the reader, and I imagine some things might change once she meets or interacts with the reader. Like I imagine her being the type to get really jealous and maybe might make the reader a little insecure to ensure they stay with her. But at the moment she probably doesn’t think that way cause until she gets to spend time with the reader she’ll probably be more interested instead of obsessed.

yeah more stuff. I'm really excited to hear your stuff about Helluva Boss.

Yeah like I mentioned in my last post, Velvette is kinda in the middle when it comes to her obsession for reader. She doesn't necessarily want to know everything about them like Vox, but also doesn't see reader as an object like Val. I think like you mentioned, Velvette wants reader to become like her, sorta. She still wants reader to have a personality separate from her own, but that doesn't stop her from pressuring reader into doing things they don't want to do, especially if she believes it's something she has to do.

I think everything Velvette has learned about reader she's learned against her own will, either from Val or Vox. It's even worse when they're arguing about reader because they barely acknowledge she's there. However, this works to her advantage because she doesn't have to work real hard to learn about reader. She's also smart, and knows how to talk about you based on who she's speaking with. When she's around Val, she's more possessive, objectifying even. While when she's with Vox she's more open and aware of readers emotions. This makes it hard to know what she truly thinks of reader.

But once she does gain an interest in reader, she's a pure mixture of both of the men she lives with. She's jealous and mean in ways that are reminiscent of Val, but also very aware of readers emotions like Vox. I don't think she, or anyone else for that matter, is really aware of what she actually feels for reader, but she doesn't really get a choice to not be exposed to them, so she might as well buckle up for the ride.

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

I'm Setting Off, But Not Without My Muse

I'll Write Your Name Chapter 7

Roy Kent x Latina!Popstar!Reader

4.8k words

Warnings: Language, heavy kissing, pining

Keeley lounged on Roy’s couch, looking comfortable and familiar with crossed her legs and messy hair. She smiled when Roy handed her the soda he’d brought from the kitchen, throwing Roy back to all those lazy days they’d spent together on that couch, days of kisses and laughter and love. Days he missed.

“My sister should be here soon,” he murmured as he threw himself down on the couch beside Keeley. “Remind me what you and Phoebe are doing again?” He resisted the urge to grab her hand or press his palm to her thigh, the way he used to.

Ignoring or missing Roy’s pining, Keeley grinned and sipped her soda. “We’re going to a museum,” she explained slowly. “And we’re going to take turns closing our eyes and trying to draw the art we see. Whoever does the best wins, and loser pays for lunch.”

“Where the fuck did Phoebe get money from?” Roy snorted.

Keeley blinked at him, as if it was obvious. “You, you dolt. Girl’s a little millionaire with all your swearing.”

The sound of knocking at his door stopped Roy from retorting; not that he had a defense, to be fair. His wallet was constantly empty thanks to Pheobe. Maybe the knock at the door saved him from admitting Keeley was right, he thought to himself as he opened it.

Those familiar eyes sparkled at him. “Hey, Roy.” She stepped inside, looking comfortable in a simple sweater and jeans. The moment she saw Keeley on the couch, it was like a switch flipped. Her hand was on Roy’s hip, tugging him to herself so she could plant a lingering kiss to his cheek. “Missed you,” she hummed.

Roy froze. Even after all this time, all the kisses, he still had moments where her seemingly easy affection caught him off-guard, rendering him frozen like a statue. This was definitely one of those moments, with his ex-girlfriend on his couch watching with quirked eyebrows and amused eyes.

Just as suddenly, she stepped back and smacked her palm to her forehead. “Shit,” she chuckled awkwardly, her eyes focusing on Keeley again. “I’m so sorry. I forgot I don’t have to do that in front of you.” She adjusted Roy’s shirt where she’d grabbed him. “My bad, Kent.”

“Don’t stop on my account,” Keeley teased, shooting them a wink. “Kiss him all you want. I doubt he’d complain too much.”

“Keeley-” Roy started to growl, wondering if both women could spot his heavy blush and the way his fists clenched at his side.

But Keeley wasn’t focused on that. Instead, she patted the spot next to her, urging the popstar to sit beside her. “So, have you two planned your holiday yet? I know Lanie’s been on your ass about it.”

With a glance at Roy, the singer settled by Keeley, noticeably stiff compared to the former model. “Uh, Roy found some spot in this little lakeside town,” she said quietly. Roy wasn’t sure he’d ever heard her sound so timid. What the fuck had her so shy? “That’s why I’m here,” she added quickly, eyes on Keeley. “So we can finish planning everything.”

“That sounds lovely,” Keeley said in a soothing voice, almost as though she was trying to comfort the singer. “I think you and Roy-o are going to have a great time.” She shot Roy another wink. “Sounds very romantic.”

Roy cleared his throat. “I think it’ll be a great writing spot,” he said. “She can focus on the album, I’ll get some reading done.”

There was that smile, that small grin that made Roy soften. “I’m excited,” she admitted to Keeley, although her eyes were still on Roy. “If nothing else, it’s nice to get away before the tour begins. Because now, with this album, I’m not going to get to relax much before it starts. At least I’ll get to relax a little on this trip.”

“Or not relax,” Keeley hummed with a wink.

Roy didn’t know what he hated more: Keeley implying he’d be interested in anyone other than her, or feeling embarrassed in front of his fake girlfriend. Probably the latter, he realized when he saw the alarmed look that appeared on that pretty face. Now she was going to spend their little getaway worried that Roy was going to make some sort of move on her, he panicked with silent groan.

Fucking Keeley.

~

“Shit, sunshine, what’s in this one? Bricks?”

I rolled my eyes and grabbed the admittedly heavy backpack out of Roy’s hands. “Old notebooks,” I corrected. “I’ve gotta dig through these things to find some usable lyrics, remember?”

Roy’s little grunt was the only answer I got. He loaded my suitcase into his giant black car before taking back the backpack and tossing it inside. He squinted at my empty hands for a moment before gazing back at my house. “I made sure the place was pet-friendly, you know.”

“Okay,” I said slowly, cocking my head. “What, did Keeley make you rent a dog for our vacation? Make us look all domestic?”

“No,” he huffed, obviously fighting the growing curve in his mouth. “For Sydney. I figured you’d be bringing her along.”

My heart melted as I blinked at Roy. I knew he liked my cat- and she, amazingly enough, liked him in return- but I wouldn’t have expected him to include her in our plans. Most of my real boyfriends tolerated Syd well enough, choosing to mostly engage in mutual indifference. Roy, on the other hand, seemed to genuinely like having Sydney curled up in his lap during Scrabble games and was keen to feed her if he woke up before me.

Stupid thing better not get too attached, I thought bitterly as I mumbled something about going to pack Sydney’s things really quickly. He won’t be around forever.

As I gathered some cat food and toys and urged Sydney into her travel carrier, I wondered if I was worried about Sydney or myself. With Roy’s help, I packed the cat and her things into his car, reminding myself all the while that this was a business trip of sorts. We were going for publicity, I scolded myself as I buckled into the passenger seat. This was for work.

My reminders were interrupted when Roy turned on his car and my own voice suddenly filled the vehicle.

The tips of Roy’s ears were red as he quickly turned off the car stereo. “Phoebe,” he mumbled simply. “She always turns it up way too fucking loud.”

I fought the smile that was desperately trying to break through. “Sure, Kent,” I chuckled. “You weren’t blasting my song on your way to pick me up. You absolutely didn’t sing every word at the top of your lungs. Totally believe you.”

Damn, why did he have to wear bashfulness so well? “Fuck off, sunshine.”

Slouching in my seat and defeated by the smile on my face, I turned to him. “What is your favorite song by me? If you don’t mind me asking.”

His fingers tapped the steering wheel as he turned off my street, off on our little adventure. “D’you think I have a favorite?”

“Of course you do,” I scoffed. “I saw the way you sang Our Song. You’re a bigger fan than you let on, Kent.”

“Touche.” He bobbled his head as he stared straight ahead. “You’ve got some really good songs. Nothing New was phenomenal. I’ve listened to it a few times and it just leaves me fucking breathless.” A frown crossed his face. “But it might be Happiness,” he said quietly.

My eyes traced his profile. “Why that one?”

He sighed and tightened his grip on the steering wheel. “It’s mature,” he said slowly. “Accepting the end of this relationship, acknowledging the good and bad of it all, hoping for forgiveness that goes both ways.” He sighed. “I’ve got to admit, I used to think you were just… fluff. I mean, Pheebs always likes your sugary pop stuff, that’s what’s on the radio. But after Nothing New-” He shook his head. “I went and listened to some of your other things, and fuck, you’re a great songwriter.” He glanced at me out of the corner of his eyes. “And I liked the Gatsby references, sunshine.”

I tried to tell myself that my warm cheeks were the result of feeling humbled by kind praise, not feeling flustered because Roy was telling me he liked my song. “Thanks,” I murmured. I picked at the hem of my shirt. “It was kind of a hard song to write. Emotionally, I mean. But it felt really good once I’d finished recording it.”

“I bet,” was all he said.

The rest of the drive was calmly quiet. I rested my head against the window, watching the city fade away and become green, green, and more green. Roy didn’t say much, other than ask how Sydney and I were doing. After a while, I took out a notebook and began jotting down some words, words that just kind of flowered onto the page before I could even really comprehend what they were saying.

Roy eyed me curiously as I scribbled. “Lyrics?” he asked simply.

I nodded, scribbling down the last couple of words. “Just a few lines,” I admitted. “Who knows if it’ll become anything. But you never know, so I’ve gotta write everything down. Sometimes the silliest little lines can become something special.”

“Read it to me.”

I swallowed hard, staring at the words I’d jotted down. “It’s just a couple little scribbles-”

“Come on, sunshine.”

Unable to say no to his gentle tone, I cleared by throat and slowly read, “Wait for the signal and I’ll meet you after dark… show me the places where the others gave you scars… Now this is an open-shut case, I guess I should’ve known by the look on your face… Every bait-and-switch was a work of art.”

When I dared to look at Roy, he wore a large, infectious grin. “What the fuck,” he chuckled, smacking the steering wheel. “What kind of a mind d’you got in that pretty little head? You just came up with that right now? Out of fucking nowhere?” He let out a sharp breath. “Fucking amazing.”

His words were overwhelming, drawing a deep blush to my cheeks. He sounded so real, so genuine as he praised the couple of lines I’d jotted down. I decided to believe he really meant it. Friends could gush over each other like that- right?

I also decided to ignore him calling me pretty.

“Thanks, Kent,” I murmured, slouching into my seat. “Dunno what it’ll become but…”

“Well, whatever it is,” he said, “it’ll be fucking great.”

He knew he’d guessed right when he saw the smile on her face at the sight of the instrument. She turned to him, eyebrows raised and cat in hand.

~

It was a nice house. Bright and airy with a gorgeous view of a lake, a couple of cozy bedrooms, a sweet little kitchen, and, most importantly, an inviting sitting room with a piano. As soon as Roy saw a photo of the instrument online, he booked the house, figuring it would be a perfect spot for some songwriting.

“There’s a piano,” she said simply.

Roy nodded, warmth in his chest as he took in her pleased reaction. “Figured between that and your guitar, you’d be all set,” he explained. “Is it fine? The piano? I didn’t know what kind you like, or if this one’s any good.” He was blabbering now, suddenly anxious that he’d done just the wrong thing.

But she shook her head, letting Sydney go so she could approach the little bench. She sat and began plucking at the keys, creating a simple little melody that Roy felt like he knew. She glanced at him, the music never stopping. “You ever play?”

“No,” Roy scoffed. “Only thing I’ve ever played is football.” Not knowing what came over him, he strolled over and sat beside her, watching her fingers move with ease over the ivory. “Is this one of your songs?”

She nodded and opened her mouth, letting her sweet voice fill the house.

Roy nodded along. He’d heard this one before; it always sounded so childish when he heard it over the speakers, and half the time he skipped right over it, ignoring Phoebe’s complaints about ever skipping her songs. But maybe it was hearing the authoress in person, or maybe it was how down-to-earth it sounded like this, or maybe it was the way the setting sun was hitting her pretty face, whatever it was, Roy thought the song sounded nothing short of charming.

School bell rings, walk me home

Sidewalk chalk covered in snow

Lost my gloves, you give me one

"Wanna hang out?"

Yeah, sounds like fun

Video games, you pass me a note

Sleeping in tents

It's nice to have a friend

She turned to him, still playing, and nodded to the keys. “You try.”

“Fuck no, I-”

All it took was her raising her eyebrows expectantly, and Roy found his fingers touching the cool keys. She paused, freezing her fingers and nodding down at them.

“Set your fingers like this,” she instructed. When Roy had taken the same position, she looked at his face. “Just copy my movements.”

She moved her fingers slowly, delicately, and Roy did his best to mirror them. He hit some wrong keys, and he was so stilted and awkward, but he created something resembling music. Slowly, the tension in his shoulders started to dissipate, all the embarrassment in his head gone, making room in his brain for the simple melody they created together. A quiet, almost domestic bliss settled over the two of them, the kind of quiet that didn’t need a single word. He tried to remember the last time he felt such a calmness; probably with Keeley. He didn’t realize how much he missed it, just the pleasure of someone’s company.

And Roy definitely wasn’t complaining about the glowing little smiles she offered him.

It was nice to have a friend, indeed.

~

It was the sun, I told myself as I forced my eyes back to my notebook. I was suddenly feeling warm because I was lying out in the sun. That had to be it.

~

The sun felt good on my face, warm and inviting. I was supposed to be diving through an old notebook and searching for usable lyrics, but Roy kept distracting me. Not on purpose, of course. He just stretched out on our picnic blanket, eyes on the book he’d brought along, pausing only to take a sip of beer or grab a piece of fruit to pop into his mouth. But I couldn’t stop glancing over at him. He looked so incredibly relaxed, kind of like he had the night of his championship celebration, and he had this tiny grin on his face as he read, as if he was amused by the book in his hands. And then I noticed his hands, how strong and firm they looked holding the book open. And today he’d opted to wear shorts, showing off muscular legs I rarely got to see.

“Alright there?”

That gruff voice had me snapping back to reality. “Fine,” I choked out, shaking away thoughts that I really shouldn’t have been having. “How’s your book?”

Roy shrugged and flipped through the pages. “It’s good. I’ve read it before, but it’s nice to revisit?” He raised an eyebrow. “Like you and Gatsby, I guess.”

My eyes scanned the cover I hadn’t paid much attention to earlier. “A Wrinkle in Time,” I read aloud. “I’ve heard that’s a good one.”

“You could borrow it sometime. If you want.” Roy grinned. “When you’re not being pressured to write an entire album of love song for a man you’re not really in love with.” He shook his head, missing way I squirmed at the ‘L’ word. “Freaking Keeley, making you do this. You’re a trooper for saying yes, you know that, sunshine?”

“It’s fine,” I assured him with a little chuckle. “Who doesn’t love a challenge?” I paused, picking at the grass at the edge of the blanket. “Speaking of Keeley…” I let out a little breath, suddenly even warmer in the face. “She didn’t, er, send you any messages recently, did she?”

Something in Roy’s face fell for a flicker of a moment before relaxing again. He quickly shook his head. “No. Did she send you something?”

“Yeah.” I rolled my eyes, pretending my heart wasn’t slamming in my chest. “She says we’re both way too hot to be so… chaste when we’re out together.” I offered an awkward grimace. “She wants us to, like, get caught being hot and heavy.”

The choking sound sputtering out of Roy’s mouth had my face burning even worse than it already was. “Oh.” He blinked a few times, the gears in his head almost visibly turning. “Do you… want to make out then?”

Despite the absolute mortification I was feeling, I couldn’t help laughing at his words. “Jeez, Roy, that’s so high school of you,” I managed between chuckles.

The corners of his eyes crinkled as he finally joined me in laughter. “Fuck me, that was terrible, wasn’t it?” He shook his head, offering a sheepish grin. “But I mean…” His eyes shifted somewhere over my shoulder. “That papps Keeley tipped off is over there somewhere. Probably has a clear view of us.” He raised his eyebrows. “Unless…”

The laughter left my lungs as I looked into those brown eyes, just as unsure as I suddenly felt. This shouldn’t be difficult; we’d been kissing each other for a couple of months now. And I’d filmed plenty of kissing scenes for music videos, I reminded myself. Steamy ones, even. Surely, I could manage to get a little heavy with my supposed boyfriend, couldn’t I?

“Anything for the job,” I joked, suddenly hating the way that had seemed to become our motto.

“For the job,” Roy echoed with a smirk.

Without warning, he grabbed my hips and tugged me onto his lap. A surprised squeal slipped past my lips, prompting a chuckle to rumble in his chest. His hands skittered up and down my back as he smiled up at me.

“This alright?” he hummed. His eyes were on my mouth.

I managed to nod as I rested my hands on his shoulders. “Sure.” I hoped my voice was casual and unbothered.

“Good.”

His lips felt so comfortable against mine, warm and familiar now. I let myself settle onto his lap and closed my eyes, focusing on being as natural as possible. Roy pulled me close, chest to chest, until I felt his heartbeat against my body; he could probably feel mine slamming against my ribs. He tasted like the beer and fruit he’d been enjoying all afternoon, a beautiful, summery combination I wanted to taste forever. Without thinking, I gave a gentle grind against his lap. His grip tightened on me as a curious little hum vibrated against my mouth.

My body was buzzing, on fire, drunk on Roy’s mouth and hands and body. While the little voices in the back of my mind kept reminding me this was an act, this was all pretend, the rest of my mind was screaming Roy’s name, wanting to take him back to the house and make this real.

Taking him back to the house felt like an especially good idea when his hands began to slide down my back, lower and lower.

“Should I…?” he rasped against my lips.

I nodded, refusing to open my eyes and break the spell I was under. “Probably.”

Roy’s hands cupped my ass tentatively, as if he was waiting for me to snap at him; he was probably remembering the night we “met”, where I warned him about his hand placement. Oh, how far we’d come since that night of snarking at each other and trying not to roll our eyes. Trying to assure him he was fine, I pressed down against him again, swallowing back my reflexive groan when I felt the beginning of a bulge against my increasingly needy parts.

Apparently he understood the permission I was giving him, because Roy’s grip on my ass tightened, fingers digging into the material of my jeans. I tried to remember the last time I’d been kissed like this- in public no less. It felt like something was waking up inside me. No, it wasn’t arousal from the kiss, from Roy’s hands on my body like he wanted me. It was a feeling that was settling deep in the pit of my stomach, a feeling that was making itself right at home as a melody and words began to bloom in my mind.

Dammit, it might be love.

~

~

For the last few decades, Roy Kent had spent plenty of time around impressive people. Politicians and rich people who made him want to barf. Actresses and models that looked good on his arm and in his bed. And, of course, some of the most famous, talented athletes in history, athletes he was proud to play against and stand beside. Hell, he was a legend in his own right, something he seemed to conveniently forget.

But he couldn’t help being impressed watching an artist at work, something he hadn’t had the opportunity to witness before now. He was a little nervous for her heading into this holiday, wondering if she’d be able to work under so much pressure. But once they arrived, it was like a dam had broken. She was constantly in her notebooks, scribbling furiously and scrambling through old pages. Or she was strumming away at her guitar or picking at the piano, creating melodies that Roy found himself humming as he relaxed around the house.

She didn’t play much for him, just little snippets here and there that she quickly critiqued and went back to work on. Still, he kept asking her to play him something; but they weren’t ready she insisted. Roy didn’t care; he found himself craving pretty tunes and a prettier voice.

A couple days into the trip, he was in the little kitchen, making some dinner while Sydney padded around, meowing up at him and drowning out the twinkling sounds of the piano. He mumbled back to the cat, reminding her that her owner would not be happy if he snuck her a treat without checking first. But the cat kept chattering, so Roy finally threw his hands up in defeat.

“Fine,” he huffed, unable to believe he was having a conversation with a cat. “Let’s go ask your mum if you can have a bit of fucking carrot.” He scooped up Sydney and let her climb onto his shoulders- a spot he had quickly realized she liked- and made his way into the sitting room.

She looked so comfortable in her sweats, her hair up in a sloppy hairstyle. She was so engrossed in her music, she didn’t notice Roy leaning in the doorway, a ghost of a smile on his face as he listened to her quietly sing.

Sydney’s little meow caught her attention. She stopped playing and looked up at the duo in the doorway, eyes a little wide. “Oh, hey,” she chuckled, smoothing down her wild hair. “Sorry, too loud?”

I spy with my little tired eye

Tiny as a firefly

A pebble that we picked up last July

Down deep inside your pocket

We almost forgot it

Does it ever miss Wicklow sometimes?

They said the end is coming

Everyone's up to something

I find myself running home to your sweet nothings

Outside, they're push and shoving

You're in the kitchen humming

All that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing

“Not at all,” Roy assured her, reaching up to scratch Sydney behind the ear. Damn cat, interrupting his private concert. “That’s really fucking nice. You should keep going. I’d love to hear it.”

A tiny smile graced her lips when she saw the earnest way Roy was looking at her. “Fine. But you stay over there. I want to pretend you guys aren’t here, alright?”

Roy did as he was told, staying in the doorway as she picked up that sweet little melody and focused her eyes on the notebook in front of her, the words almost indiscernible; she seemed to be able to read the rushed writing with ease.

She took a deep breath and snuck a glance at Roy before continuing to the bridge- her strength as a songwriter, Roy recalled from Keeley.

On the way home

I wrote a poem

You say, "What a mind"

This happens all the time

'Cause they said the end is coming

Everyone's up to something

I find myself running home to your sweet nothings

Outside, they're push and shoving

You're in the kitchen humming

All that you ever wanted from me was nothing

Her smile grew as she went on, looking less like a glamorous popstar and more like a girl, alone in her room, playing with music as if it was a toy, creating something out of nothing but emotions. It was nothing short of magical, Roy admitted to himself. This album was going to be something special, he realized.

Industry disruptors and soul deconstructors

And smooth-talking hucksters out glad-handing each other

And the voices that implore, "You should be doing more"

To you, I can admit that I'm just too soft for all of it

And he’d have to take credit for being its muse.

She looked straight at Roy, not hiding that radiant smile as she sang-

They said the end is coming

Everyone’s up to something

I find myself running home to your sweet nothings

Outside, they’re push and shoving

She played a sweet little outro, eyes still on Roy. Once finished, she offered him a tiny shrug, eyes bright with curiosity. “What d’you think?”

Roy’s in the kitchen humming

All that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing

They said the end is coming

Everyone’s up to something

I find myself running home to your sweet nothings

Outside, they’re push and shoving

You’re in the kitchen humming

All that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing

“Fuck,” Roy laughed, finally walking over to sit down next to her, letting Sydney slip down into his arms. “That was lovely. Really lovely.” Before he could stop himself, the question he dreaded asking blurted out of his mouth. “Who’s it about?”

He felt so sure he’d stepped in it when her eyes flickered down, away from his gaze, before looking at him again. “Well, when I originally started writing this one, it was about my mom,” she started slowly. “I had been thinking about this time my parents visited, and we went to Ireland together. It was amazing, getting to show them places they never thought they’d visit.” She shook her head, as if the memories of that trip were fluttering through her mind. Then her eyes found his again. “But it’s also… well, about you, Kent.”

Roy nearly dropped the cat. “Me?” he asked incredulously. “Fuck d’you mean me?”

She chuckled awkwardly, rolling her eyes a little. “What you said about my mind, when I was writing in the car,” she explained. “And how you’ve been just, I dunno, really sweet about everything I’ve been working on here. And, I don’t know, you’ve become a really good friend.” She reached out and placed a hand on his leg, giving a small squeeze. “So I guess this song’s about the people who make me feel safe, happy, despite all the idiots in this world.” She wrinkled her nose. “Does that make sense?”

His heart felt like it stopped dead in his chest. It was such a candid, honest answer- and not the one he expected. He knew she’d have to change lyrics to fit him before finalizing songs, but he didn’t think she’d write about him. Roy wasn’t sure he’d ever been so… flattered? Sure. Flattery. That was the warm feeling nuzzling in his chest, the same warm feeling that was spreading to his cheeks as she blinked at him, waiting for him to say something, probably to assure her that he liked being her muse.

“Oh,” was all that came out of his stupid mouth. “Wow.”

He saw it. He had seen it when he brushed her off the first time she talked to him about The Great Gatsby. He saw it when he walked brusquely out of the room when she first played Nothing New for him in her living room. And he was pretty sure he saw it when he ignored her at the Greyhound’s celebration to pay attention to Keeley.

It was some mix of disappointment and hurt. Something that made Roy wish he was capable of being someone other than himself.

Still, she put on that tiny, shy smile and removed her hand from Roy’s leg. “Yeah,” she chuckled. “Anyway, sorry for interrupting your cooking.” She cleared her throat and stood, scooping Sydney out of his arms. “I better go feed her.” Not quite looking at Roy, she walked out, leaving him all alone at the silent piano.

Taglist: @infinetlyforgotten@ladygrey03@book-of-roses@thatonedogwithablog@misshall14@wibblywobblyvampywolfystuff@akornsworld@itswhateveripromise@purecinnamonextract@oceanncurrent@dearvoidgoodnight@hopefulromances@respondingtoshowerthoughts-blog@hotleaf-juice@emmy2811@captainorbust-blog@preciousbabypeter@shion-ah@royalestrellas@eugene-emt-roe@littleesilvia@teenwolf01@sisinever@yagotgames@queen-of-the-downtown-scene@emmaallisonann@mrdsturd@confessionsofatotaldramaslut@charkachow@mrdsturd@littlepinapple@sunfairyy@shadowzena43@uhmidkmuch@imsoluckyeverythingworksoutforme

[yanderelinkeduniverse]

Yandere Twilight Headcanons

Say it with me now: one word, PROTECTIVE. Twilight is the most actively protective member of the Chain by far. Even though the others obviously have their moments, and they’re each strongly protective of you, Twilight is the one who acts on it the most.

He’s like a loyal guard dog(ha) who follows you around whenever you go into town or are just getting stuff like firewood when you’re all camping out. When you’re in town, Twilight doesn’t hesitate to silently intimidate anyone looking to mess with you into hightailing it away from him.

I like to think that the constant Wolfie transformations leave Twilight with some sharper than average fangs and he is totally willing to use them whenever the situation calls for it.

Even if he’s in his human form, he won’t shy away from biting straight through someone’s jugular if need be. He may find mauling someone to death disgusting, but his personal disgust doesn’t mean anything compared to your health and safety.

As such, it goes without saying that whenever battle ensues, you are his top priority. Before he does anything he is making sure that you are kept away from the danger, he doesn’t want a scratch on you.

If you do happen to get injured, suffice it to say Twilight is blocking out whatever else is going on as he cuts through the crowd of monsters to reach you. He doesn’t care if one of the heroes needs help, you got a scraped knee dammit!

Speaking of Wolfie, Twilight abuses the hell out of his wolf form if or when he learns you’re a dog person. He’ll start transforming every other day just to receive affection from you, and whenever you stop he’ll start whining for more.

Wolfie has an easier time scaring off creeps, so that’s always a bonus.

However, if you’re not a dog person and are more of a cat lover, that’s also something he uses to bond with you. Twilight loves picking up dogs and cats like babies, so he’s always down to fawn over any adorable animals you run into.

Though on some days when he feels deprived of affection, he’ll get all pouty and jealous of the animals you love on. Even if he’s rather die than admit it out loud, he’ll still transform just to get a sliver of the attention you give to those animals.

Another thing Twilight does that is similar to a dog is how he’ll constantly be doing things to earn your approval. A day doesn’t go by where he doesn’t offer to do you a favor or insist he handle any heavy lifting you have to do.

And he never asks for a single favor or item or payment in return, all he wants is to have you smile at him as he serves you. If he could, he’d wait on you hand and feet every waking hour of the day, nothing compares to the joy he gets helping you with any task.

Since Twilight is one of the few heroes who has a personal experience specifically with a love interest from another world returning to her world and him never being able to see her again, Twilight has a lot of issues regarding how your original plan involves leaving him them forever.

In fact, once Twilight’s innocent affection for you has progressed into genuinely being in love with you, he’s already painfully aware of what will happen. At first, he tries to move on, telling himself that there’s nothing to be done about it and that it’ll hurt less this time around since he already knows what’s coming.

But then his love for you starts to transform into something even deeper as his sanity slowly starts getting chipped away and he becomes more and more viscous in how protective he is of you. And eventually he decides that he can’t lose you, he can’t go through what he did again.

He’ll do anything to make this world your home.

[the-hopeless-haze]

Worried About You

Chapter 4 of If You Want It, You Can Bleed On Me (House x reader)

“I need Vicodin,” Greg says to you, walking into your office. Well. Your office when you were here. You scowl slightly at the day-old coffee in your line of vision and think about how you’ll be scolded by the other people you share the office with the rest of the week when you inevitably forget that it’s there.

“Funny. I’m not your dealer,” you say.

You and Greg had hit it off, so to speak. Much to everyone’s chagrin and surprise, you continued seeing each other inside and outside the hospital. It wasn’t something either of you spoke about. Psychiatrists (or psychiatric doctors of nursing) are the worst patients and the best repressors. You did what you had to to be able to function like a member of society, but you were as fucked up as the rest of them. And you see Greg is similar. USA-renowned, if not world-renowned, diagnostician—but that was all he had besides a bum leg and a healthy dose of chronic depression and reliance on opiates to function.

When you finally had sex -heterosexual sex, dick in pussy sex - it was a frenzy fueled by alcohol and weeks long of teasing, and you saw glimpses of his leg in the midst of it and he saw the scars scattering your arms, but beyond the “oh, so you tried to kill yourself” he said to you when he edged you on the brink of orgasm the umpteenth time (and oh, boy, was that a mood killer) there were no comments about either.

But he kept you around and you weren’t entirely certain of why. It’s only been a month or so, and he’s not calling you his girlfriend or telling you he loves you, but he’ll still wine and dine you before railing you. And you don’t know if it’s out of obligation, if he feels like even though you’re not a hooker he has to pay you for sex, or if he genuinely enjoys your company. You think about how dissimilar you are to Wilson and how that’s the only person he keeps close. You wonder if maybe you remind him of his live-in ex that you’re almost certain he never got over. It’s a good time though, regardless. You make each other laugh. You both love The Rolling Stones. You begrudgingly agreed to be dragged to a monster truck show one night (“Wilson won’t come with me” he whined) and in return you made him go with you to see a local band perform that he wasn’t the slightest bit interested in.

It was that sacrificing that made you pretty close to a real couple. Wilson pointed it out to you and he no doubt pointed it out to Greg. You made a snarky comment about his marriage and you wonder if you should compare notes with Greg to make sure you’re both not using the same lines.

You don’t know why you keep him around either, so it’s fair. It’s nice to have a fuck buddy, you suppose, and it’s also nice to almost like them as a human being rather than a sex toy. It’s certainly not because you think you can cure him, because you know you can’t. You wanted sex and you didn’t want a rehash. All things considered, he was a thorough lover and cared about getting you off as much as himself, which somewhat surprised you given how selfish he can be in other settings.

It’s not a bad arrangement. At least not right now.

But you’re fucked and you know it. It’s why you were drawn to work with kids in the first place. At least you’d always have a leg up on them. Someone out there thought you were sane enough to be rent an apartment and be a licensed prescriber.

Oh. Speaking of.

“Come on. You have a license to prescribe. Just once,” he begs.

“Yeah. No. I think you’ve got me confused with Wilson.”

“You’re much hotter,” he offers.

“Flattery will get you nowhere.”

“It got you in my bed.”

You smirk, shaking your head. “Yeah. Fair. But that’s as far as it’ll get you. You can be lackadaisical with your license, but I’d like to keep mine until I want to retire.”

“How’d I get with such a goody-two-shoes? Even Wilson will play.”

“He’s not now, apparently. What gives?”

“I bet Cuddy clinic hours that I wouldn’t take Vicodin for a week. They’re all convinced I’m an addict.”

You snort. “Okay. I hate to point it out so bluntly, but this is prime behavior for addiction. Searching all channels to get a fix because you can’t go a week without it?”

He rolls his eyes. “Yeah. Okay. I’m going to do the week. But I need someone on standby. I’m only doing the week, and I don’t know that I’ll be able to get it prescribed afterward.”

“Chronic pain is outside my scope of practice. Best I could do is a suboxone MAT and say I’m detoxing you off Vicodin and keeping your substance use in check, but even that’s pushing it. There’s a conflict of interest.”

“You can’t keep the clinical and the personal separate?”

“Nope. Could you? If I was your patient this week, would you be able to? Bringing your ex-girlfriend into this is what got you into this mess. Don’t bring me in to try to fix it.”

“I’m not asking you to fix it. And you have a medical background. I’m asking you to write the order I’m asking for. I know how to manage my pain.”

“Why don’t you get through this week first? Then maybe you’ll take me up on the suboxone,” you say, crossing your arms.

“You think I’m addicted?”

“Jesus Christ, Greg, you’re smarter than this. You know what happens if you consistently take opiates. I know you need them for pain. I’m not denying that. But to think you’re immune to the side effects? It’s habit-forming. You know this. You’ve been taking it for years. You’re going to have withdrawal symptoms. You should be doing this in a detox facility if anything.”

“I work in a hospital. Opiate withdrawal never killed anyone, anyway,” he says, seeing no point in bluffing to you any longer.

“Maybe not. But you’ll suffer. I’ll meet you halfway, hm?” You say, looking up at him. “I’ll prescribe you comfort meds for the week. Ease you through it. Mirapex, vistaril, zofran, clonidine, bentyl…”

“Most of those aren’t exactly in your scope. If you want to be technical.”

“If I lose my license for any of those the board has far too much time on their hands. But you’re right. I’ll get Chase to sign them off.”

“Chase?”

“He’s the most desperate to get laid out of the three. I bat my eyelashes enough he won’t even question who the scripts are for.”

“Chase? Look at him. If he’s not getting laid none of us should be.”

You scoff. “I guess pretty boys do it for you, but not for me. But no…I can tell. He reeks of desperation.”

“It’s desperation to be liked by authority. Not desperation for pussy. He’s swimming in it.”

“Okay. We’ll see if he folds,” you say, winking.

Greg sighs. “Is this some kind of game?”

“What isn’t, with you? It’s all games, it’s all puzzles.”

“Why Chase?”

“I told you. I know you’d rather me go to Cameron, but unfortunately, I don’t think flirting would get very far with her. Foreman will never fold.”

“You don’t have other doctors you work with you could ask?”

“Greg, it’s just fucking comfort medications that you probably will have too much pride to even touch. Again. Not risking my career for you and letting people that actually respect me think I’m a nutcase because I slept with you.”

“So… you want to fuck Chase. Right?”

“Where in that insecure little man brain did you think of that? It’s your other head, right? I must want the sexy Australian because all the other girls are doing him? Because I want to ask him to prescribe meds? For you?”

He shrugs. “Matter of time. ‘Oh, I had to blow him, that’s the only way I could get him to do this’ or ‘oh, honey, good news, he said if I sleep with him three times a week he’ll prescribe your Vicodin’.”

“Stop with the immature bullshit. If I wanted to fuck him, I’d just leave you, not worry about the meds, and do it. Grow up, Greg,” you mutter, walking away.

“Then why don’t you?” he challenges, hating himself as the words leave his mouth, hating how unattractively juvenile he was coming across. But there were reasons, the need to push you away to see if he would get pulled back, the need to be contrary, the need to know. Know what, exactly, he’s not sure.

He already knows he’s in for one of the worst weeks of his life. Even if the withdrawal symptoms are mild, he’s going to be in terrible, unmanageable pain, and all the Tylenol and Motrin in the world aren’t going to even come close to touching it. And he’s going to be more miserable than usual. No pain relief. No euphoria from the high when he takes just one… or two… or three extra than he needs. He knows he’s addicted. He tries to roll it off his back, saying it doesn’t matter, it shouldn’t change perceptions of him, it’s something he needs for pain, and it doesn’t affect his ability to practice medicine.

But sometimes he’s afraid. When James looks at him in concern but doesn’t offer any solutions because there aren’t any real ones, are there? He needs opiates for pain. Nothing else will work. Whether it’s pure heroin or your gold-standard synthetic hippy bullshit medication-assisted treatment… it’s still an opiate. Naloxone embedded in the pill or not. Having to go to a clinic to get dosed and having to have checks and balances on his use or not. It’s still an opiate. There’s still a stigma. It still pinpoints his pupils, lowers his respiratory rate, and hopefully, hopefully, takes the edge off so he can function but he knows. Addiction isn’t his specialty, he never wanted it to be, but he knows. One day it’ll be his last Vicodin, or the Vicodin won’t work anymore, and hey, you know what’s instantaneous? Spinal morphine. Can only use that card once or twice, have to tell Wilson he’s in excruciating pain and guilt him into enabling. He’ll only go so far. And then…well, then it’s IV heroin or fentanyl, whichever is easier to get, whichever is cheaper.

Greg knows that addiction treatment centers are revolving doors. He knows that you saw the same people back and forth and back and forth sign in and sign out, sign in and sign out. Change their medication plans a million times. And some of them still died anyway.

He’s afraid. He’s afraid of dying by his own hand by accident, alone and blue, nodding off forever. Sometimes he wishes for it, an end to the pain, but he also doesn’t want people to find him like that. A predictable end to a predictable story. World-renowned diagnostician died the same way a poor broke junkie did on the streets. Hooked on drugs, overshot it.

And it’s not that he thinks he’s better than those people. He knows he is those people. Even prior to his disability he dabbled in drugs, never enough to create a habit but enough to definitely indicate the potential of a problem. He’d tried almost every illicit substance “just to see how it felt” by your age. It feels good. Drugs feel good. It’s how they work. And your brain wants to feel good. It’s how they keep working and you keep using.

He knows. He’s in a vicious cycle he’ll never claw his way out of.

And you know it, too.

And yet you’re wasting your time fighting with him instead of walking away.

Why?

He doesn’t know that.

“Yeah. Why don’t I fuck him?” you snark back, turning on your heel and walking back toward him, drawing him out of his pity party and back into the misery he created for no reason other than to drag you down with him, make you choke on it with him. “I don’t want to. That’s why. I want to fuck you, although believe me, that thought is getting less and less appealing every time you open that fucking mouth and speak.”

“It does have better uses,” he quips, shrugging, almost visibly relaxing at hearing he was chosen, that he hadn’t scared you off yet.

You roll your eyes. “When does the detox start?”

“Now. It’s been a couple of hours.”

“So you wanted to kick it off and try to put both of us in a shitty mood to start with? Not your brightest idea, huh?” you ask.

He doesn’t say anything and you nod, feeling slightly more in control now that you rendered him silent without any arguments. “Go home. You can’t think clearly if you’re going to be actively detoxing.”

“I still have to make them think I can function without it,” he says after pausing. He would’ve lied to you too, put up a façade with you too, but that’s the thing about addiction. It’s easy to hide dependence to people who don’t know what to look for, but you do. And you would smell it on him.

“I thought you didn’t care what people think?”

“I don’t.”

“Then why take the bet at all?”

“I’ll get out of clinic hours.”

“Right. You would never do something like this to prove a point,” you say sarcastically, leading him out of the office. —————- “Why are you with him?” Chase asks. “And you care enough about him to ask me to use my medical license for a script.”

“You’ll see I don’t care enough about him to risk using mine,” you counter. “It’s comfort meds. Just write the scripts and I’ll leave you alone and we can go back to never talking, which is honestly how I prefer it.”

“I’ve done nothing to you.”

“Right,” you mutter. “I’ve heard enough, though.”

“Does he… what does he say about me?” he asks, a look between bewildered and terrified crossing his face.

You laugh, shaking your head. “Forget I said anything. You’re fine, I’m sure, I just don’t want to be entangled in the team. I already work with Wilson. One facet of House’s life needs to be separate from me.”

“Right. So you’re asking me to prescribe him medications.”

“As a doctor. Which is your job,” you point out. You sigh, looking at the pretty blond man sitting in front of you. Maybe Greg was right to be afraid. Most women your age would be begging to spread their legs at the thought of carrying this man's children. He's more stable, at least comes off that way, and he doesn't have an addiction and a crippled leg.

“Why stay with him if you know he’s an addict?”

Why are you staying?

You look at him for a second, reading his face. “You hate people that struggle with addiction, don’t you?”

“I wouldn’t say I hate them. I just think they don’t realize the pain they cause and it’s unfair to the sober people in their life.”

“Everyone is someone’s burden,” you say.

But why did you take him on?

“So you think he’s going to detox.”

“I know he’s going to detox. Which is why. Once again. I’m asking you to prescribe him comfort medication for the aforementioned detox.”

“You guys really like each other, huh?”

Why did he take you on?

“No. I want my week to not be miserable. This might lessen it a little bit.”

“Oh, and you’re deflecting just like he would.”

“Just prescribe me the damn meds, Chase.”

“You’re going to be miserable anyway,” he says, shrugging as he takes out his script pad. “You owe me one.”

You know he's not wrong.

“Yeah. You’ll get a psych consult on the house,” you agree.

“Why’d you ask me?”

You sigh. “Can’t ask Wilson. Too close. So it had to be one of you three. Foreman just wouldn’t. Cameron would ask me too many questions and she’d tell everybody.”

“And me?”

“Process of elimination, really. Thank you, you know," you say, deciding to leave out the part where he gets off on sucking metaphorical dick for the chance at appealing to authority. Sometimes you wish you were as crass as House. You come up with some good ones if you could only find the guts to just say them.

“He’s not going to take them.”

“Probably not. But I’m doing my part.”

“As what? His girlfriend?”

“His… friend,” you clarify, and you walk out of the office with the scripts in tow to fill at the pharmacy. Later you hand them to him and he takes them without a word. He opens all the bottles, takes one of each pill in his hand and he pops them dry. Terrible for his esophagus, you tell him, and he mutters something about how he’s wrecked his liver and everything else has to catch up. He opens a bottle of wine and you lean against his chest, barely processing the cheap soap opera flashing in front of you on the TV. He's already sweating, you can feel his shirt damp against your cheek. You don’t know why you’re here. You don’t know why he made a show of taking all those pills in front of you. Maybe to show your efforts were appreciated without having to say the words, even if he thought it was stupid. Maybe it was a desperate attempt to make this all suck less. Maybe it was because this was bending the rules a little, a detox with help, however minor, and he always wanted to see how far he could push before the consequences could roll in. Let’s cheat a little. Instead of a slice of pizza on a diet let’s have a hydroxyzine in a cold turkey detox.

He asked you to come over tonight but he hasn’t said much of anything or initiated much either. Why does he want you here? To know he’s not alone this time, that you’re willing to face the brunt of this pain with him when it returns, like Stacy was unwilling to?

You don’t know.

You don’t want to know. It’s best he keeps that information in his own head where it belongs. You don’t want to get too attached, too close, too entangled. This is fine how it is.

But you still wake up drenched in sweat that isn’t yours.

[lunajay33]

Taste for Older Men

•⚰️🍂🍑•

Summary: Growing up with you never had much interest in boys your age but when your dads best friends stuck around more everything changed

Pairing: Cowboy Negan x f!reader

Warnings: age gap, evil boyfriend

•Masterlist•

Song Recommendation: White Mustang-Lana Del Rey

Growing up I never understood all my friends having crushes on guys in our class, I mean they were so immature and not even cute so I never had a reason to try things out and explore like so many people my age, because I knew what I liked……and that is older men, I never realized until my dads best friend moved to town and started coming over more and more, I never acted on it because obviously it’s inappropriate but god did I want to

I graduated school and went to college online so I could work on my dads farm to help out and save up some money, it just made everything easier, then I graduate college and Negan lost his farm hand so dad got me to help him out and get my sister to work on our family farm instead

I’ve only been working with Negan for a month and it’s been killing me, every glance, everytime he’d wrap his arms around me to show me the “proper” way to do something, had me wanting more than just a farm hand, I want to feel loved, I tried to get over Negan with a guy from town, he was sweet when we first started dating, the flowers before dates and opening doors and the good mornings texts but in all honesty it always felt like he was just a friend a really close guy friend but I guess this I how it’s suppose to feel right?

But now he’s mean, always calls drunk and when we’re out at gatherings he treats me like a toy to parade around but I don’t know how to leave him and god do I want to so badly

That leads to today Negan was coming over to our house for a barbecue so it’s a perfect chance to doll myself up compared to farming clothes, I finished off my makeup and pulled on a a ivory sundress, I made my way downstairs seeing my mom finishing off some salads as dad was out setting up everything

“Well don’t you look like a fresh flower in spring! Are you all dolled up for Mark?” My heart dropped

“What……what do you mean I’m staying here for supper!”

“Well dad said he ran into Mark today at the garage and invited him over, Negans never met him so why not introduce them it’ll be fun!” I tried to keep a chipper expression but I felt like screaming inside, the door bell rang alerting someone was here

“Could you get that dear I’m still finishing up here”

I walked over to the door relieved to see Negan standing there instead of Mark, I let out a breathe he obviously noticed

“You alright darling?”

“What? Oh yeah I’m finally just…..never mind please come in” I said nervously stepping to the side to clear the door way

“Old man said you’re boyfriends coming around tonight” he said with a hint of displease

“Does that man talk to everyone god” I groan

“What don’t want me meeting the guy who’s got my girl all worried” my heart did a flip at the words ‘my girl’ but I couldn’t think on it too long when a knock came from the door and my mood plummeted

With a shaky hand I open the door and there stood my walking nightmare that fake smile plastered on his smug face

“Hey babe thanks for the invite, had to hear from you old man” he says as he pulled me close by my hip a hint of anger in his voice

“I’m sorry it……it just slipped my mind” my voice wavered as he squeezed my hip, Negan cleared his throat

“Oh mark this is Negan, Negan this is Mark”

“So this is the Negan that always takes up all your time on that damn farm”

“Mark you know it’s my job and I love working there…….please you just got here” I whisper the last part, looking at Negan who had a shocked look on his face, definitely not expecting this to be my boyfriend

We all were sitting out on the back porch with the lowering sun basking us in golden light, a slight breeze in the air making a chill running down my spine, as dad laid the food on the table for everyone

“Here take my plaid you gotta be freezing” Negan said draping his brown and green longsleeve plaid over my shoulders, his cologne surrounding my senses

“I’m right here man” Mark barked from my other side

“Mark he was just being nice it’s fine”

“That’s what you always say”

“And what’s that suppose to mean?”

“Always going on and on about him and brushing me off like I’m some psycho boyfriend when I’m sick of hearing about him”

“Mark……” my dad groans as a warning

Everything seemed to come crashing down and I couldn’t keep it all in anymore

“You’re the one that comes home late stinking of booze and cheap perfume thinking I don’t see the lipstick stains on your shirt collar, or when you make me feel like a piece of meat infront of all you friends I’m sick of it Mark” at my words he shot up in his chair clearly enraged as he towered over me

“Who the hell do you think you’re talking to” the chair behind me screeched back Negan now towering over me too with the angriest look I’ve never seen before

“Get the hell outta here before you regret it” mark was angry but he was also a hell of a coward, especially faced with a big strong man like Negan

He huffed as he stomped down the porch, hearing his truck start up and rush off down the dirt road, I slumped down in my chair completely embarrassed but also that relief that I’ll never have to deal with that ass again

“Please excuse me” I sigh as I get up from the table and head up to my room for a moment of peace, I sat down on my reading ledge by my window going through all the times he mistreated me and how much he ruined my first…..well my first everything

“Hey darlin mind if I sit with ya?” Negan asks from my doorway, I simply nodded hearing him cross my room and sit next to me, I look up at him and feel my lip tremble

“He ruined everything” I finally break down when he holds me close to his chest

“He took my first kiss, felt like nothing, took my virginity even though I didn’t feel anything like that for him, he took my happiness”

“Baby look at me” he says as he leans me back tilting my head up to wipe my tears away

“If I could I’d take all your pain away, replace all those firsts with happy memories but I know one thing……”

“What?”

“You’ll be happy again, even if I gotta kill him to see you smile again I’ll do it because it kills me to see you like this”

“It’s not like I’m sad he’s gone, I’m relieved really but he’s never what I wanted” I say placing my hand ontop of his that was still against my cheek

“And what is it you want darlin?”

“I’ve always wanted you, I know I shouldn’t you’re my dads best friend but all my secrets are coming out today” I pity laugh

“I want you too, when you started working on my farm, you working around the farm and treating my animals like your own, making me feel like I wasn’t some old man out there alone, I want you by my side more than you know”

My world in one day went from hell back to heaven all because of the man I craved the most in this world

Part 2