#overuse of the word nerd

[stellar-haikyuu]

hear you out ☆ iwaizumi hajime x reader

synopsis: you deserve to have someone listen to you nerd out about your interests. unexpectedly, you meet the person who's more than happy to listen (and perhaps learn more about you in the future). details: fluff | first meeting | strangers to lovers | ~1.3k words | speech-language pathologist gn! reader | timeskip! iwaizumi (a little flirty too lol) | dedicated to @sahrberrii

“Iwaizumi-san, your vocal cords are muscles,” you explain, showing him a video of the anatomical structure. “They contract and slam against each other whenever you shout or use a harsh tone.”

The athletic trainer nods, eyebrows drawn together as he observes the laryngoscopy video you use as an example for your clients.

“But I think you, out of all people, know what happens when you overuse muscles.”

“They get injured,” Iwaizumi whispers in response. He chuckles a little, but the action makes him wince.

“Take it easy,” you smile, almost reaching out to pat his back before stopping yourself.

“Thankfully, you don’t have any nodules, like this person.” You swipe through a few videos before landing on the one you’re looking for. “Nodules are a result of repeated trauma between the vocal cords. Kinda like the finger calluses guitar players get from pressing down on the strings all the time.”

He nods, grimacing as he listens to the person with vocal nodules attempting to produce higher pitches. You understand it perfectly; even after all the voice clients you’ve seen, you never get used to how painful it sounds.

“So, if you continue to overuse your voice, especially in this state, you can get nodules. Or, something worse that would require surgery. Think of a strain or a sprain, compared to a complete tear.”

The video ends, but a part of you still wants to show him more—just enough to keep him around a little longer. However, you still need to be mindful of your time, so you close the tablet and place it on your desk. “So, it-”

When you look at Iwaizumi again, he meets your gaze. Your face grows hot at his attention, and you can’t help but dart your eyes to the side.

“Uh, I meant to say that you should focus on resting your voice for the next week. And I mean full vocal rest. No whispering. You can write on a whiteboard, type, use text-to-speech, gestures, whatever you want.”

He gives you an eager thumbs-up. Cute.

“Okay,” you giggle. “That tells me you understand. I’ll give you a list of other exercises you can do to help with vocal strain. But for now, let’s focus on getting rid of the inflammation. Whenever you feel like your throat is tense or a little painful, you can massage it…”

You gesture at his Adam’s apple, but you happen to glance at it just as he swallows. 

“Uh.” You blank out for a moment, your hands freezing midair. 

Oh, man. Get a grip.

Snapping yourself out of it, you reach for your throat with your middle finger and thumb, demonstrating what you were talking about. “Just go in circular motions, up and down the neck. It’s up to you for how long.”

Suddenly, Iwaizumi raises his hand a little. He unlocks his phone, typing something on the notes app before showing it to you.

“Ah…” You hand his phone back to him. “That’s also up to you.”

“Oh. Me? Uh…” 

Does this mean I’ll have to touch him?

“Usually, I apply this much pressure…” Your fingers hesitantly hover near his throat. “Can I, uh-”

You don’t even complete your question before he consents with a nod. 

“Okay, um.” Your gloved fingers make contact with his skin, and you pray that he doesn’t feel your hand shaking.

Holding your breath, you press down. “This much, usually. Does it hurt?”

Iwaizumi shakes his head and gestures at you to continue.

“Okay, so you just keep doing this. How does-” You glance at his face, which no longer holds any tension. Relief floods over you at the immediate effect.

“How does it feel?”

You grin at the little smiley he leaves. “You’re welcome, Iwaizumi-san. Why don't you give it a try in the meantime?"

As Iwaizumi attempts to replicate what you’ve done, you grab a notepad from your desk, jotting down a few reminders.

“Anyway, I’ll send an evaluation report later for occupational or medical purposes. I know some insane bosses who seem hell-bent on making my clients’ lives harder. Hopefully that’s not the case for you?”

“Oh, goodness, poor you.” You can’t help but laugh as you imagine it. “Well, if you need someone to talk some sense into them, I’m here.”

A quick exhale leaves his mouth in amusement. You remind yourself to look up his team later.

“Okay, if you’re free next week, you can come back here so we can check on your progress. A call would be alright too, if that’s more convenient.”

Normally, you don’t even think twice when giving your clients your contact details; sometimes they keep in touch, sometimes they don't. But secretly, you hope Iwaizumi worms his way into your schedule.

“Anyway, sorry if most of this felt like a one-sided conversation. I hope I didn’t bore you too much or make it too technical-”

Iwaizumi shakes his head frantically, waving his hand. Then, he fumbles a little as he tries to enter his phone’s password.

Ah. He wants to say something?

“I…” You feel your heart swell at his sincerity. “Thanks, Iwaizumi-san. That means a lot.”

And for the first time in the last hour, you get a glimpse of the crow’s feet around his eyes as he grins.

Oh, dear.

Truthfully, you were a little nervous when he entered your office an hour ago. Nervous is an understatement—you were intimidated. He looked like he could just knock you out with a punch if you managed to upset him.

(Okay, he probably wouldn’t punch you, but you've had your fair share of dismissive, aggressive, and moody clients before.)

But now, Iwaizumi’s expression is washed over with a gentleness you didn’t think was possible with his sharp features.

You can’t find it in you to end the interaction, even though you have to.

As you muster the courage to finally send him off, he sighs and rakes a hand through his hair. He takes out his device again, typing something down. It takes a much longer time; he presses the backspace button repeatedly.

“Um, Iwaizumi-san, do you have a concern?” You fiddle with the hem of your scrub shirt. The silence was starting to have more weight to it.

He meets your eyes for a moment before he resumes writing his message.

What is it that has him hesitating so much?

When he shows you his phone screen, you almost gasp.

"Oh!" You don't need a mirror to tell that your face is flushed. "I- That means a lot. Thanks. Um..."

You scramble for a response as he prepares to type something again.

"But, uh, sure! Just let me know if there's something you want me to talk about. Hopefully, you don't get sick of my voice, Iwaizumi-san."

Then and there, you're pretty sure you short-circuit.

"Oh? No one's ever told me that before." You laugh, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. However, when you catch the earnest smile on his face, you feel your heart set alight.

"Anyway, thank you for giving me your time today, Iwaizumi-san."

A/N (or Iwaizumi's case history):

Hey, it's Stellar, your soon-to-be speech-language pathologist. I wanted to share my love for the profession through my fics, and decided to start with dear Iwa-chan.

To explain what's happening here, Iwa has a case of traumatic laryngitis, caused by vocal overuse and abuse (constantly screaming at the JNT to stop fooling around during training). Thus, his voice is very hoarse and breathy (sometimes, he can't even make a sound), and speaking hurts. Iwa would have tried remedies like throat sprays and hot tea, but they're not the key to recovery. Vocal rest is!

However, with how busy he is, he still needs to talk to multiple people and resorts to whispering. But, I must emphasize that whispering does NOT aid recovery, because you are still putting stress on the vocal folds.

In these cases, most people will wait for the problem to go away. If it's taking too long, they'll go to an ENT (ears, nose, and throat doctor; otorhinolaryngologist is the fancy word). Sometimes, it stops there, and patients are sent home; but in more severe cases, patients are referred to a speech-language pathologist (reader).

Anyway, since Iwa's case is caused by unhealthy vocal habits, it would help to have the voice specialist handle the case, especially during the recovery phase (dealing with any potential problems in pitch, loudness, and quality). This would increase the chances of a better prognosis/outcome! :)

The laryngeal massage that reader did on Iwa is recommended to most voice patients, especially if their vocal complaints are pain and tension. However, other things can be recommended to promote vocal relaxation, such as straw-blowing exercises (I'm not kidding! They're called semi-occluded vocal tract exercises). I just didn't talk about them in the scene because it felt like info overload, hahaha!

But Iwa's case is relatively mild (assuming he follows home instructions). There are other situations where vocal cords can be paralyzed, weakened, or spastic. Besides nodules, polyps and other growths can form and require surgical removal. Sometimes, one's voice may not be able to return to normal, so the focus of rehabilitation is to restore the most functional voice possible.

[Sidenote: Since this fic leans in a romantic direction, I should clarify that reader will follow professional ethics/rules. They both wait until Iwa is no longer a client at the reader's clinic/hospital before getting together.]

I hope you guys found the fic and A/N interesting in some way! :) Please take care of your voice; don't take it for granted! If you happen to have any questions about the voice, feel free to leave a reply, come to my inbox, or send a dm! <3

This video does a good job explaining AND showing stuff about vocal nodules (I like to think that this is what the reader shows Iwaizumi, hahaha). A fair bit of warning if you're sensitive to internal body imaging, but it's not that gross or graphic.

masterlist

[ktownshizzle]

Nerd & Nerdier | Finale

✎ ˎˊ˗ Pairing: Min Yoongi x reader, Jeon Wonwoo x reader; endgame? x reader ✎ ˎˊ˗ Genre: Fluff, Attempt At Comedy, Roommates au, Love triangle

✎ ˎˊ˗ Summary: Moving in with two introverts should have been easy. Not when it’s Min Yoongi and Jeon Wonwoo, who decide they both want you. Unhinged, awkward, and nerdy as hell, they proceed to compete for your attention in the most unnecessarily dramatic fashion that culminates into a… rap battle.

✎ ˎˊ˗ Warnings: Wildly gratuitous, 100% chance you’ll fall in love with both of them so that’s a problem, no mxm dynamics to be expected (kinda)

✎ ˎˊ˗ Chapter Warnings: MDNI 18+, overuse of the word fuck, yoongi GOING THROUGH IT!, pop culture references (pokemon, inzoi), drunken shenanigans, second hand embarrassment, unprotected sex (be smarter tho), everybody gets a happy ending

✎ ˎˊ˗ Word count: 6k hooray! ✎ ˎˊ˗ Posting date: April 1, 2025

✎ ˎˊ˗ Notes: Not a joke! The finale is here!

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4 | Ch 5 | Ch 6

Yoongi yeets himself out of the apartment. Gets the fuck out of there and walks to the ends of the earth for all he cares.

He stuffs his hands inside his pockets. It’s freezing but the wind feels like a welcome punishment against his face. He needed to be numb.

Shit. He’s already down to his last cigarette, and he’s barely halfway through the block when he lights it with shaking fingers.

The smoke burns. His throat burns.

And still, not as bad as what he saw. And in his own home no less.

Granted he shared it with you and Wonwoo. But that doesn’t give you fuckers the right to….

He stops and knocks his forehead against a lamp post. Twice. Thrice.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

He’s gonna kill Namjoon for forcing him to go to that songwriting retreat. And Hoseok for sending Namjoon that email invite.

The last 10 minutes stick in his brain like gum—right on the amygdala, where all the worst things like to linger.

The way you kiss Wonwoo like he was it. Like he was the one. Like the last few weeks meant nothing. Like your message yesterday meant nothing.

He doesn’t know why he stood there long enough to register the way Wonwoo touched your face, the way you let him.

The way you said you knew it was him from the beginning. He didn’t wait to hear the rest. 

Didn’t need to. Couldn’t bear to.

Fuck that shit, honestly. Wonwoo wasn’t the only gamer in that house. You played him, too.

After walking around, picking up stuff (alcohol, cigarettes), Yoongi ends up at Genius Rkives.

The place is empty—blessedly, quietly empty as Namjoon is probably just getting settled in his own home. As he should.

The studio smells like incense and a bit like old wood. It’s comforting, in a way. At least this place hasn’t changed even if everything else fucking has.

He slumps onto their old leather couch and stares at nothing for a long, long time. Doesn’t move. Doesn’t blink (probably).

Just sits there, hoodie over his head, cigarette ashes still clinging to the smell of his skin, contemplating how the hell he got blindsided.

Before he blacks out he does one thing that he’ll regret in a few days. He blocks you.

He spends the next few days in the studio, hunched over tracks he is unable to finish. Everything sounds hollow now. Like someone else made it. Like none of it fucking matters.

He doesn’t eat. Drinks more coffee than water. Doesn’t sleep unless he passes out from sheer exhaustion.

“You look like shit,” Namjoon says casually, tossing a banana on the table. “Eat something.”

Yoongi doesn’t even look up. He does take the banana, peels it, and scarfs down half in a single bite.

Namjoon studies him for a second. “Wanna talk about it?”

Mouthful of fruit, Yoongi exhales a humorless laugh. “Nah.”

And that’s that.

On the fourth night, when the silence is too loud and even his own thoughts start sounding like white noise, he opens Instagram. You’ve posted something a few minutes ago.

Just a dim photo of the living room. One mug on the table.

The photo is accompanied by a single word: Empty

Yoongi stares at it and his throat dries up.

It’s his coffee mug. The same one he uses everyday because he is a creature of habit.

“Shit,” he mutters to no one.

Because he doesn’t know what it means. Doesn’t know if it’s about him. Doesn’t know if he wants it to be.

All he knows is that he hasn’t stopped thinking about you.

About how you said you missed him. (And the fact that he misses you, too. So damn much.)

About how he thought—really thought—he was the one you wanted.

But all he can picture is the way Wonwoo held you like he probably had every night he was gone. 

And now he’s feeling just like your caption.

He hasn’t been getting your texts. But he has been getting Wonwoo’s.

Wonwoo: Hyung. Can we talk?

Yoongi stares at the notification.

Nah.

Talk?

Talk about what?

Talk about how he was standing there—hands on your waist, mouth on your lips—the girl Yoongi was in love with?

Yeah, no thanks.

He doesn’t answer. Just slips on his headphones and drowns himself in half-finished mixes until the sky turns pink and the ache in his chest numbs into something dull and half-dead.

The next morning, another message comes in.

Wonwoo: Unblock her

Yoongi scoffs, almost laughs. Who the fuck does he think he is, barking orders like that?

He’s ready to swipe and block his ass too when another message lands.

Wonwoo: She chose you Wonwoo: Not me

That one stops him cold.

He stares at the screen until it fades to black.

He doesn’t reply.

Not right away.

Not until five hours later, halfway through a bottle of Cass, a dull burn crawling up his throat, your voice echoing in the hollow of his skull like some stubborn loop he can’t mute.

He types.

Deletes.

Types again.

And finally hits send.

Yoongi: Didn't look like it

Then shuts his phone off completely.

Because if he sees one more message tonight, he might actually break.

He’s pissed. And hurt. And yeah, maybe Wonwoo doesn’t get to boss him around. But he followed the instruction anyway.

He unblocks you.

And then passes the fuck out.

The moment he opens his phone. A barrage of pings irritates his eardrums. He’s mildly surprised it’s all from you.

You: Yoongi. Are you okay? You: Please come home You: I miss you You: It was a mistake

You: I’m sorry

He wishes he had it in him to hate you.

It would be easier. Cleaner. Simpler.

But all he feels is the ugly twist in his gut. That soft ache behind his ribs. That voice in his head that still wants to believe there’s a version of the story where you picked him first.

He throws the phone across the couch and covers his face with his hands.

His chest rises, falls. Rises, falls.

He breathes like it’s the only thing keeping him from falling apart.

You’re drunk.

Not a little tipsy. Not that cute, flirty kind of drunk. You’re talking full-blown, slurred speech, bit of drool on your chin drunk.

And the worst part?

So is Wonwoo.

“Where the fuck is he?” you whine from the floor, your head tilted back dramatically against the couch as you shovel cold ramyeon into your mouth with chopsticks.

Wonwoo lets out a groan from where he’s collapsed half-on, half-off the bean bag. “You think he died?” 

You blink at him. “He viewed my Instagram story three days ago.”

Wonwoo nods solemnly. “So not dead. Just dramatic.”

You groan and roll onto your side. “God, he’s such a little bitch.”

“Agreed,” Wonwoo mutters, clinking his empty glass against your half-full one. “Still hot, though.”

Present-you accepts that as a drunken truth. But future-you would look back and wonder—Did Wonwoo just call Yoongi hot?

“Stupidly hot,” you mumble to your drink anyway.

There’s a beat of silence.

Then you both burst out laughing. Hysterical, ugly, half-sobbing laughter. You’re crying into your noodles. Wonwoo is hugging an empty soju bottle like it owes him money.

You sit up suddenly, noodles still hanging from your mouth.

“I’m texting him again.”

Wonwoo lifts his head. “Do it.”

You fish your phone from the couch cushions, squint at the screen, and thumb open your messages.

You don’t even think about your words before hitting send… multiple times. Afterwards, you throw the phone onto the couch like it’s on fire and collapse into a giggling mess.

“I did it,” you whisper, horrified and proud all at once.

Wonwoo lifts his fist for a drunk high five. “You’re so brave.”

The phone remains silent.

But somewhere in the dark, you hope Yoongi is reading those texts—and that maybe, just maybe, he’ll find it in his heart to give you a chance.

Yoongi isn’t drunk, but he is a little buzzed.

The kind of buzzed that makes the edges of his thoughts feel a little cottony, blurry.

He’s sitting on the couch in Hoseok’s apartment—legs kicked up on the coffee table, one hand holding a beer, the other lazily scrolling through his phone, until your name pops up. And it’s not one text. It’s… a flood.

You: yo You: yoongi You: yoooooooongiiiiiii You: you crusty sexy neckless bastard You: why did you ghost me You: your flowers are DEAD You: i’m DEAD You: wonwoo’s crying You: not really You: but i am You: pls COME HOME You: i can explain You: im sorry You: IDIOT You: i miss youu 

He groans.

Hoseok in the kitchen calls out, “What’s going on, hyung?”

Yoongi just grunts, because what the fuck.

He reads the messages again. And again. He scrolls up and down like the words might rearrange themselves into something easier to process.

His thumb hovers over the keyboard.

Then pulls back.

Then hovers again.

He should ignore it. It’s drunk nonsense. He can hear your voice in the excess vowels.

But it’s the last one that fucks him up.

He swipes a hand over his face and exhales sharply, the sound catching somewhere in his throat.

Yoongi doesn’t melt easily. He’s not the type. He gets pissed before he gets soft. Gets silent before he gets sentimental. But goddamn you. Goddamn the way your words still manage to punch through the walls he’s put up.

He opens your text thread and coincidentally another message slips through.

It’s a gif. A Pokemon gif of all things. Of Ash throwing a poke ball saying: Pikachu I choose you.

God you are so fucking WEIRD. But saying that did not endear him to you further would be a vicious lie.

He groans. Stares at the blank message and finally types..

Yoongi: you idiot Yoongi: i’m coming home

Then he grabs his coat, slides on his headphones, and steps into the night.

He misses you too. Bad. But he doesn’t say it back. At least not through text.

Yoongi doesn’t expect a grand homecoming when he pushes the door open. But a little groveling wouldn’t have hurt.

Instead, he’s greeted by the sight of you passed out on the couch, limbs tangled in a blanket, lips parted in the softest little snore. Wonwoo’s slumped nearby, equally unconscious, an empty soju bottle balanced dangerously on his knee.

A cornucopia of soju and ramen, and chips lie in the center like it was The Hunger Games and these two lost.

He shakes his head, sighs. He should be angry. But all he feels is that he missed you. Both of you. Being here and being home.

First order of business: get Wonwoo to his room. Yoongi somehow manages it, half-dragging, half-guiding the much taller man down the hall. Tucks him in, even takes off his glasses and sets them gently on the bedside table so he doesn’t roll over them in his sleep.

Then there’s you.

Still curled up on the couch, one sock half off, hair a mess, hugging an unopened bag of shrimp chips like it’s a stuffed animal.

Yoongi runs a hand through his hair and exhales before crouching down beside the couch.

You’re drooling a little. And your shirt is halfway riding up your stomach. 

He mutters a curse under his breath, hooks one arm beneath your knees, another around your shoulders, and lifts you up—bridal style. You’re actually heavy and your limbs flop like you’re some tranquilized wild animal (in some ways you are), but he grunts and tries his best not to drop you.

You stir slightly as he wobbles toward your room.

Then you blink. And blink again. Before your eyes go wide. “Oh my God.”

Yoongi pauses. “…What?”

“Are you—are you real?” you whisper, voice raspy and full of awe. “Is this really you, Yoongi?”

He blinks. “Yeah?”

“You look so gooood in person.”

Yoongi huffs a laugh. “Shut up.”

“Your arms are so toned, oh my god. Did you work out when you were away?”

“You’re drunk.”

“You’re hot.” You grin. “I’d totally hit that.”

He mutters a very pained “Jesus Christ” as he kicks your door open.

But he’s smiling. He can’t help it. He’s so fond.

You look up at him with those glassy eyes, and your voice softens, barely a whisper now. “I love you, you know. Like, a lot. I cried every night you were gone.”

Something in his chest squeezes. Almost painfully. Before mild annoyance settles with it. This is not how we thought he would hear those words for the first time. Why are you like this?! But fuck, you love him.

“You’re drunk,” he says again, but this time his voice is lower, shakier.

You nod solemnly. “And honest.”

He lays you down gently on your bed, pulling the covers over you with the same care he gave Wonwoo earlier. 

He disappears into the bathroom for a second, comes back with a warm washcloth, and kneels by your bed to wipe the sheen of soju from your cheeks and the corner of your mouth.

You hum under your breath. “Stay.”

Yoongi pauses mid swipe.

“Stay forever,” you add, breath catching. “Please, Yoongi?”

He looks at you. Really looks at you.

And maybe it’s the way your voice broke when you said his name, or the way your fingers weakly reach for the sleeve of his hoodie, or the way you look so impossibly small and soft in the dim light—but he knows he’s not going anywhere.

Not tonight.

Not if he can help it.

“Okay,” he whispers.

He climbs in beside you, lets you curl into him without hesitation. Big spoon to little spoon, arms wrapped around your middle like he’s willing to protect you from all kinds of harm.

You sigh. Melt into him like you were made to fit there.

And finally—finally—Yoongi sleeps.

Not the restless kind. The kind he can only get when he’s home.

The first thing you register is the headache.

The second is the unfamiliar weight around your waist.

You blink blearily at the soft morning light spilling through your curtains, your mouth dry as sandpaper and your brain moving at the speed of a buffering livestream. Everything hurts. Your body, your stomach, your eyeballs.

You shift slightly—just enough to turn your head.

Shit.

Yoongi. Yoongi is in your bed.

Your erstwhile missing roommate, Yoongi.

Your potential boyfriend but you fucked it up by getting caught making out with another man, Yoongi.

Yoongi, whose legs are tangled with yours beneath the blanket, one arm snug around your waist like it belongs there.

Mild heart attack. Bile threatening to rise up. You need to get out of bed.

But before you can do that, a deep, groggy voice rumbles behind you. “Stop squirming.”

You freeze like an Inzoi character on pause. You don’t even breathe so you're starting to get lightheaded.

Yoongi inhales deeply against your hair, retracts his arm.

“Drink your aspirin,” he murmurs. “It’s on the table.”

Your eyes flick to the nightstand. Sure enough, a glass of water and a single pill sit waiting. Your hand trembles slightly as you reach for it, trying not to disturb him, which is hard because the bed is tiny and he’s very much in your space.

You wash it down in one gulp. Set the glass back.

“You’re awake,” you whisper.

“No shit,” he grumbles, still not opening his eyes. “You elbowed me in the ribs three times.”

You wince. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” he exhales, the air warm against your nape. “Was worth it.”

Your heart stutters.

And then—

“Holy shit,” you whisper, panic climbing in your throat as some memories start to flood back in–lots of junk food and soju with Wonwoo, laughing and then crying, Yoongi’s face close to yours, telling him you love him. “Did I—what did I say last night?”

Yoongi’s silence is a little too smug, and he shifts to roll away from you.

“Yoongi,” you hiss, trying to turn him, but he is immovable.

“You were drunk.”

“I know. I mean, did I—” You bite your lip. “Just tell me what I said.”

A beat passes.

“You said I was hot.”

You groan, burying your face in the pillow. “Please tell me that was it.”

“You also said you’d totally hit that.”

“Oh god.”

“And,” Yoongi continues, drawling now, “you confessed your undying love.”

You shut your eyes. “Kill me.”

He chuckles. “Nah.”

He shifts to face you back and this time you’re the one to pull away but the weight of his arm around you sinks in. You’re both lying there, warm, drowsy, tangled up in the morning haze.

“…You stayed,” you whisper.

He hums. “You asked me to.”

Your fingers curl into the edge of the blanket. “Thank you.”

He doesn’t answer right away. Just presses a gentle kiss against your clothed shoulder, his breath slow, steady.

“Go back to sleep,” he murmurs. “We’ll talk later.”

You want to ask what later means. Want to know where this is going. But for now, your head is pounding and Yoongi’s body is warm against yours and it feels like the safest place on earth.

So you let him hold you.

And you close your eyes.

You must’ve dozed off again because the next time you wake, Yoongi’s no longer spooning you (sad)—he’s sitting on the edge of your bed, elbows on his knees, face in his hands.

He looks like he’s been sitting there for a while.

“Yoongi?”

He doesn’t look at you immediately, just rubs a palm down his face. When he does glance your way, his expression is hard to read—tired, maybe. A little wrecked around the edges.

“We should talk,” he says quietly.

You sit up, pulling the blanket around you like armor. “Yeah.”

Silence stretches for a few seconds.

Yoongi looks down at his hands.

“I saw you,” he says. “The night I came back.”

Fuck. You knew this fact, but shame pricks at you anyways as he says it.

“Wonwoo.” His jaw clenches. “You. In the living room. You were saying things to him.”

Your stomach sinks.

He exhales through his nose, sharp and fast. “You said you loved me. But what was that?”

You bite your lip. Hard. “Yoongi…” You move forward, reaching out—slowly—until your fingers graze his wrist. “I didn’t pick him.”

His eyes flick to you, guarded.

“I know.” You nod, guilt curling tight around your ribs. “I know what it looked like. And I don’t blame you for leaving.”

You swallow hard, gathering the words you’ve been holding back.

“He asked me to pretend. Just for a second. Just to know what it felt like to be loved back. And I—I should’ve said no. But he looked so hurt, so I just… I should have said no.”

Yoongi doesn’t respond, but he doesn’t pull away either.

“It was wrong,” you continue. “It wasn’t fair to you. Or him. But I swear, that night, and even before that, I already knew it was you. I was just waiting for you to come home to tell you. But yeah, that happened, and, fuck, I’m so sorry.”

Yoongi is quiet. Too quiet. His face was unreadable. God you royally fucked this up.

You shift closer, your voice softer now. “I love you, Min Yoongi. It’s not a drunk confession, it’s not a mistake. I wanted you from the start. I still want you. And I’m so sorry I hurt you.”

You hold your breath. Wait.

Then—

“Fuck,” Yoongi mutters, running both hands through his hair. “How do you say shit like that and expect me to stay mad?”

You let out a breathy laugh, relief washing over you.

He turns to face you fully now, his gaze softer—still raw, but softer. “You’re lucky I’m obsessed with you.”

You blink. “Obsessed?”

“Biblically,” he deadpans, lips forming a straight line.

Your laugh bubbles out before you can stop it.

Yoongi leans in, pressing his forehead to yours. “Don’t do that again.”

You shake your head.

Then he kisses you, just lightly, before pulling you back into the cushions with a grumble, “if Wonwoo ever asks to roleplay as me again, you tell me and I’m gonna kick his ass.”

You snort, settling into his arms. “That feels fair.”

“Damn right it is.”

And with that, Yoongi wraps you up like he’s never letting go again.

It takes a couple days.

Yoongi doesn’t go out of his way to avoid Wonwoo—but he doesn’t go out of his way to talk to him either. They move around the apartment like polite strangers. It’s getting super awkward and depressing. You almost wanted to start scheduling the bathroom in shifts.

But you give them space. Let them figure it out. Because before you came into their lives, they were good friends, almost brothers even. And you know they’re both good men whose love for each other runs deep despite their stoic facades.

Sometimes you’d leave Yoongi’s favorite album quietly in the background whenever you’re in the living room, because you know Wonwoo still lingers near the door when it’s on. You know he misses him too.

The truce finally comes on a Wednesday.

You’re out grocery shopping—on purpose—when it happens.

Yoongi’s in the kitchen, a mug of black coffee in hand, when Wonwoo walks in wearing a hoodie two sizes too big and the face of someone who’s been up editing for twelve hours straight.

They stand in silence for a second.

Then Yoongi gestures to his mug. “You need this more than I do.”

Wonwoo blinks. “Hyung...”

“Yeah, yeah, just take it.” Yoongi waves his hand dismissively.

Wonwoo’s fingers finally close in on the mug, bringing it towards his lips. “…Thanks, hyung.”

Yoongi hums, looking out the window.

Wonwoo hesitates. “I’m sorry. For… all of it.”

Yoongi doesn’t look at him. Just stares into space. “I know.”

Wonwoo exhales. “Shoulda taken the L like I promised. But I just—liked her. I thought maybe I had a shot. Thought I could handle it. But I didn’t expect to care about you both this much.”

Yoongi finally glances over, eyes tired but not unkind. “Big mad I had to see that shit, though.”

Wonwoo cringes. “Yeah. I know.”

“You kiss sloppy.”

“I was crying, hyung.”

Yoongi smirks. “I’m just saying.”

They stare at each other for another beat.

“We good.” Yoongi tells him, and the stress on Wonwoo’s shoulder eases tenfold. 

Wonwoo grins, “good.”

And just like that, the tension breaks—fragile but real. Not erased. Not forgotten. But healing in the way only true friends can.

When you get home an hour later, you find the two of them huddled over Yoongi’s laptop, arguing about which 8-bit sound effect is better for Wonwoo’s Youtube channel’s opening beat.

Yoongi looks up briefly when you step in, bags at hand. “Why do you take forever in Olive Young?”

“You two are talking again.”

Wonwoo motions you to be quiet. “Shhh. Don’t jinx it, noona.”

Yoongi just shakes his head, clicking away.

“Chimaek, tonight?”

Two thumbs ups.

Ah. It feels good to be finally home.

One month later…

Wonwoo’s already at the table, sipping his coffee. His hair is still damp from a shower, glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose as he scrolls through something on his phone.

Yoongi’s plating up some eggs, bacon already looking crunchy and so good on another plate on the counter.

You glance between them, heart tugging at the sight.

It feels almost like the early days again—before all the mess and the pining and the rap battles and the ghosting. Just three roommates, slightly chaotic, mostly functioning.

Wonwoo clears his throat. “So… I have some news.”

You and Yoongi both look up.

“I, uh—so my channel’s been blowing up.”

You smile. “I know…”

Wonwoo nods, lips twitching into a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yeah. One of my compilation clips hit a million views. Then two. It’s a little crazy that I’m getting millions of people watching my streams. And now this creator house in Osaka, they’ve reached out. They want me to join them full-time.”

Silence.

You blink once. Twice.

Yoongi’s egg slides off his chopsticks and hits the table with a soft splat.

“You’re moving?” you ask quietly.

“In two weeks.”

The words hang heavy in the air, like steam that won’t quite dissipate.

You swallow. “Wow. That’s… amazing, Wonwoo. Really.”

He chuckles softly. “Yeah. I’m still trying to process it. But I think—I think I want to go. It’s a big opportunity. They’ve got a deal with Netflix and everything. It’s wild.”

Yoongi doesn’t speak. Just stares down at his bowl, jaw set.

Wonwoo looks at both of you, his expression soft. “Also… I think it’s for the better.”

You frown. “What do you mean?”

He shrugs lightly, but there’s nothing careless about his words. “You two need space. Real space. I’ve seen how careful you’ve been around me—like you’re always tiptoeing, trying not to… like, I get it. But it’s okay.” He smiles then, genuine and a little bittersweet. “I don’t want to be the third wheel anymore. I want to see you guys figure this out for real.”

You open your mouth to disagree, but nothing comes out. Because he’s right. You have been walking on eggshells around him.

Yes, you and Yoongi have had the talk, have shared the quiet moments and the whispered promises—but living with Wonwoo meant holding back. Kisses stolen in the hallway. Frantic touches under the covers. Making out like teenagers afraid to get caught by their parents. You haven’t even fucked—not properly—because you don’t trust yourself to stay quiet. And the last thing you want is to make things more uncomfortable than they already are for Wonwoo.

You sigh, reach for his hand, squeezing it. “We’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you both, too. But we’ll still game. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

“Thank god,” you say. “I need someone to carry me in Valo, ‘cause this one’s useless.”

Yoongi still hasn’t said a word even as you maligned him. But when you glance at him, his head tilted toward his bowl, you notice the way he lifts a hand—just briefly—to brush beneath his eye. Subtle. Almost imperceptible.

You don’t call him out for it.

Instead, you quietly nudge your foot against his under the table.

He looks up, finally, and you offer a soft smile.

He exhales, then lifts his head, trying to school his expression. “Congrats. You deserve it.”

Two weeks later, Wonwoo’s bags are packed. Two suitcases by the door, gaming headset carefully wrapped in a hoodie and tucked into his carry-on. His favorite mug is still in the drying rack. You hope he forgot it, just so you can have something to hold onto.

He’s still coming back in a month’s time to wrap up everything else he wasn’t able to box or sell before he flies out. Some equipment he won’t need because they’re giving him a new system, plus a couple of odd items here and there. There’s still his bed, some clothes, old games, some extra cameras—it honestly still feels like he lives here and has just gone away for college.

You walk him to the door.

He turns to face you, lifting his brows like he’s expecting a lecture.

You step closer, fixing the strap on his backpack. “Keep up your Duolingo streak. Get that English sharp. The fans are gonna eat it up.”

“‘What’s up, guys, it’s your boy, Wonwoo, welcome back to the stream,’” he deadpans in a flat accent.

You snort. “Exactly.”

For a moment, you both just stand there, silence pressing in around the edges.

“I know hyung will take care of you. Probably even better than I could.”

You reach for his hand, squeezing it once. “You’ve taken care of me more than you know.”

He smiles—small, sad, but grateful. “Don’t be a stranger.”

“Oh I am sure you’ll forget me what with all your new fangirls… what do you call ‘em? Your baby chocolats?”

He laughs, a short, bright sound that makes your throat sting a little. Then he leans in, pressing a quick kiss to your temple.

“I’ll text you when I land.”

“You better.”

And with that, you step back and let him go.

You go towards the window where you see him meet up with Yoongi on the street, helping the driver lug his boxes on the compartment of the SUV.

You don’t hear what’s said. Don’t try to.

But you do see them stare at each other for a second too long, then—awkwardly, almost reluctantly—move into a hug. A real one.

Two introverts. Two non-huggers. And still, there they are, arms around each other, no jokes, no snark.

Just something soft. Something understood.

Damn. You never thought you’d see the day.

When the car finally drives off, Yoongi looks up and your eyes meet. There’s sadness in it but there’s also something else.

Like something new is finally about to begin.

Roommate Rule #5: Always check for blinking lights… you’ll know why…

It was weird at first when Wonwoo left.

It was the lack of him being there between you and Yoongi. Because no matter how close you and Yoongi had gotten, the space between you was always padded with caution.

Too careful.

Too considerate of the younger one in the house. You loved Wonwoo, and Yoongi loved him too—in the gruff, brotherly, could-murder-you-but-won’t kind of way. But the care you had for him, the quiet hesitance of not wanting to hurt him, made everything feel just a little restrained.

Now, with just the two of you, it’s different.

Better.

There’s a fluffy kind of freedom in being able to kiss Yoongi whenever you want. To drape yourself across his lap on the couch and whisper the dumbest shit just to hear him chuckle against your neck. To argue about which records to play, who left the light on, how many mugs he’s used and not washed. You fight more. You make up more. You say what you feel. You say it often.

And tonight? Tonight, you finally said you wanted him. 

Really wanted him. 

Like inside you. 

Bad.

So now here you are, stumbling into the apartment after a romantic dinner, laughing between messy kisses, giddy and tipsy and so stupidly in love it’s honestly embarrassing.

You yank his silly leopard hat off somewhere near the entryway.

“Wait,” you murmur breathlessly, lips brushing his jaw. “Where?”

Yoongi, already halfway out of his shirt, pants, and possibly his mind, blinks at you.

“My room?” he offers.

You hesitate. “Your bed’s too far from the wall. I can’t brace myself if we’re—”

He stares at you, smirking. “You’ve thought about this.”

You don’t deny it. You also don’t even justify why your feet take you to Wonwoo’s room.

“Neutral ground?” Yoongi says, tilting his head.

You shrug. “Yeah. Feels… fair.”

You don’t talk much after that. Because Yoongi, goddamn him, is rendering you speechless. The way his mouth trails kisses along your neck, breathing softly against your skin. You arch into him, fingers curling into his hair, his shoulders, wherever you can touch and pull and hold. 

Yoongi lays you down on Wonwoo’s bed gently. His mouth never leaves yours, just soft kisses turning messier and dirtier as the tension finally, finally unravels between you. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he rasps into your neck, trailing his tongue towards your earlobe. “Been thinking about this for so fuckin’ long.”

Your hands tangle in his dark strands, tugging lightly, and he groans—rough, needy. The sound of it punches heat straight through your core.

More clothes come off in a haze of giggles and curses, until you’re naked, flushed, and sprawled beneath him. Completely exposed. Completely his. But you don’t feel shy. You feel… safe. Because that’s how he has always made you feel.

Especially when Yoongi looks like he’s staring at the fucking Mona Lisa. His eyes rake over your nude form, before he exhales a soft “fuck,” and lowers himself to mouth at a taut nipple. He swirls his tongue over the bud before giving it a long suck, encasing it between his teeth with a slight tug.

“Shit,” you arch your back, electricity surging from your chest.

When his hands slide between your thighs and his fingers slip inside, your head falls back with a gasp.

“Yoongi—”

“I got you, baby,” he whispers, voice hoarse.

And he does. 

You’re already shaking when he finally slips it in, filling you inch by inch as he whispers praise against your ear.

“Fuck,” he mutters, warm breath seeping into your moist skin. “You feel—God.”

He moves like he’s laying down the beat of his life. Every roll of his hips perfectly in sync with your ragged breaths, every soft moan you make dragging curses from his throat.

Your nails make crescents into his milky skin. Your legs wrap tight around his waist like a vice grip.

And when you come, it hits you so hard you think you’ve gone blind. He groans your name desperately and follows right after, buried deep, falling apart against you with one final buck.

You lay there after, chest to chest, sticky and hot, your heart pounding..

He brushes your hair back from your forehead and plants kisses all over your face. Butterfly kisses that leave you emotional at how gentle he is. 

“I love you,” he murmurs, pressing his lips against yours.

You smile, boneless. “I love you, too.”

He hums low. “So we’re doing that again. Obviously.”

“I can’t feel my legs,” you confess.

He smirks. “That’s how you know it was good.”

You swat at his chest. “You’re the worst.”

“And you’re… welcome.”

You both fall into a comfortable silence, staring up at the ceiling, smiling at nothing.

Until—a soft blinking red light catches your eye on the corner of the room.

You frown. “Yoongi.”

“Hm?”

“…Is that—?”

You both sit up, squinting at the CCTV camera that’s starting you down like an evil eye.

Your stomach drops. “No. No fucking way.”

Yoongi squints. “That better be off. That better be—”

Your phone vibrates. Then Yoongi’s.

Both of you freeze. You already know what it is. Actually, you already know who it is.

And there goes the single message in the “Roomies” group chat to confirm your suspicions.

Wonwoo: Thanks for the nudes 😉

The End (Or is it?)

A/N: And another K series done and dusted. I am gonna miss these 3 honestly. They’ve been such a joy to work on. I loved being in their world and writing this unhinged and chaotic plot line that all started because I wanted to write a silly little rap battle.

Thank you so much for reading, you lovely, beautiful human! Xo

Serve safe and serve well, Wonwoo my baby chocolat! <3

Let me know in the notes what you thought! A reblog would be an amazing gift if you enjoyed reading :) Love you, guys!

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Divider by: @cafekitsune (thank you!)

[apathetik12]

Okay y'all, petty rant time that doesn't affect anyone, but pisses me off.

(NO OFFENSE TO ANYONE THAT DOES THIS! I AM JUST A FUCKING NERD THAT IS VERY SERIOUS ABOUT THESE THINGS!!!)

Can people please look up the definition of sycophant before using it for Stobotnik?! I know it's an important term story-wise, but you NEED to know what it means to understand the importance of it!

Sycophant(noun) - a person who acts obsequiously toward someone important in order to gain advantage.

In other words, someone being a suck up for personal gain.

Robotnik calling Stone a sycophant is a direct byproduct of his deep rooted belief that he is unlovable. Even when there's nothing for Stone to gain(ex. The Crab), he still believes that Stone wants SOMETHING. He might not know what, but he believes that Stone is planning to get something from all of this. We, however, as the audience, know otherwise. We know that Stone would do for that man, and we know it isn't because he wants to help rule the world. That's understandable, right? We all are on the same page? Good? Good. Now for the meat of the issue-

STOP OVERUSING IT IN FANFICS!!!

Robotnik calling Stone a sycophant when he still believes he's out to get something is one thing, but when people keep using after Robotnik realizes pisses me tf off!!! Robotnik wouldn't use a word if he knows it wouldn't fit. His whole thing is being stupidly smart, just not in the emotions department. I know the scene that you're thinking of when I bring up the importance of "sycophant" in their relationship, but you need to understand why it's being used there. The whole "syco-friend" thing wasn't him acknowledging Stone's feelings, it was him acknowledging his own. He was admitting that he let Stone get close to his heart, but still couldn't come to the conclusion that Stone doesn't want something from it- hence the "syco" part of friend. THAT'S WHY HE USES IT! IT IS NOT A TERM OF ENDEARMENT, IT IS A PEEK AT ROBOTNIK'S DEEP SEEDED, LOW SELF ESTEEM! STOP USING IT AS A PET NAME!

Barnacle can be used- cause Robotnik knows he can't get rid of Stone if he tried. Simp can also work- still demeaning, Robotnik uses slang all the time, and gets the same point across. Other languages might have some loose terms of endearment that could work, especially since Jim Carrey has said that Robotnik knows all of the languages. You can come up with your own for all I care! Please, for the love of all things gay, stop using it out of context. It has a deep, emotional meaning and if I read one more scene where Robotnik is finally coming to the conclusion that Stone doesn't want him for something and then immediately calls him a sycophant, I'm gonna crash out. (Not really, I'm still gonna read them, I'm just gonna mentally curse at my own knowledge for ruining the scenes for me)

Thank you for listening! Have a nice night, and remember this is my opinion. If you don't care and want to keep using it, I won't stop you. Plus, this isn't aimed at any specific fanfic writers or comic artists, because I see it EVERYWHERE!

[capnportofficial]

I posted this on Reddit because they're much more negative about Sidney, but it's going here too.

(Note: In this post I use "obsession" both as the dictionary definition of the word, and as the fanon concept. The fanon concept will be capitalized as "Obsession", and the dictionary definition word will be capitalized as "obsession".)

Sidney Poindexter is a great character. We have more information about his life than we do about any other ghost. We know the year he died (1958) and approximately how old he was (17 or 18, because he was in senior year).

He has a great design. While the color green is often overused in other ghosts, Poindexter has no green in his design at all, and yet still manages to fit in with the rest of the ghost designs. His monochrome color palette is arranged very well, and it fits with his personality and backstory and lair- he's stuck in the time period he died, stuck in that last year of school. He's black and white like a photo from that time period.

Poindexter even introduced the term "halfa"! The majority of the fandom uses it, but in canon, Poindexter is the only one who ever says it.

Speaking of fanon concepts and Poindexter, Poindexter's obsession with bullies is very similar to the fanon concept of Obsessions. People say Danny has a protection Obsession, but Danny's only protecting the town because, to quote Spiderman, "with great power comes great responsibility." Meanwhile, Poindexter sees the entire world in terms of "bullies" and "people who need protecting from bullies," even lecturing Skulker about it! Skulker is a gigantic hunter made of metal and guns who wants to skin a child, and Poindexter is a tiny little nerd with 0 physical strength whatsoever, and yet Poindexter bosses Skulker around repeatedly.

Poindexter's obsession and trauma drive the plot of Splitting Images. He's a teen/young adult who faced a tragic death, implied to be either murder or suicide, and both are horrible options to go through. As a result, he's fixated on the thing that caused his death, his bullies and bullies in general. He's so obsessed that he jumps to conclusions and refuses to consider that he may be wrong. This personality flaw causes him to be the villain of his episode, despite him being a morally good person.

Poindexter sees himself as the hero and Danny as the villain, which is a very interesting thing for the villain of an episode to do! Many other villains in the show just want to cause problems on purpose. Poindexter thinks Danny is the one causing problems on purpose.

We see that when Danny is in Poindexter's lair and body, he can only see through the mirror to the human realm when he's actively looking through it. This shows that Poindexter is very likely to not have seen Dash bullying Danny, and it's coincidence that he saw Danny's revenge.

To me, Poindexter is the most ghostly of the ghosts. He's stuck in the past, he had a tragic death, he haunts a specific location, and there's even an urban legend about him!

Splitting Images, and therefore Poindexter, is often hated for its bad forced moral. But The Ultimate Enemy also has a bad forced moral. At least Splitting Images plot has a Watsonian explanation in the form of Poindexter's personality and trauma being the thing driving the plot. Meanwhile, in The Ultimate Enemy, the plot is driven by burger sauce ex machina. I've seen many people who dislike Poindexter due to the forced moral of Splitting Images, but like Dark Danny despite the forced moral of The Ultimate Enemy.

To me, Dark Danny seems like a flat one-note villain. Despite the grief that caused his existence, he doesn't seem to care about the people he's lost, or about anything really, and merely focuses on destruction. He wants to recreate the events that caused him, yes, but what is his motivation for causing the apocalypse and destroying Ember's vocal cords and putting Johnny in a wheelchair before any of the time travel stuff happened?

Poindexter is much more nuanced in personality and has a sensible motivation for causing problems. (Not sensible as in it's a good idea, but it makes sense given his personality and trauma that we already know.)

I'm not saying people should dislike Dark Danny. But please, give Poindexter a chance. He isn't any worse written than the rest of the characters in this show. I brought up Dark Danny in comparison due to the fact both their episodes have dumb forced morals, but I could easily compare Poindexter's writing to many other characters as well. He's much more fleshed out than the majority of the ghosts. But this post is getting too long, so I won't.

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Project Blue Book

Nathan Bateman X GN!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? • ko-fi • request info •

Summary: It's time Nathan gave you some answers.

A/N: Look, this is just me being silly and having a giggle.

Warnings: overuse of italics, swearing, not beta read, typos, talk of aliens and alien fucking, kisses, please let me know if I've missed a warning.

Word Count: 978

“So when are you gonna tell me about the aliens?” You lean back in your chair, your heels on the table, your laptop perched precariously on your thighs. 

Nathan gives you a look over the top of his glasses, glancing up from the circuit board he was soldering. He eyes your comic slippers for a second, seemingly giving the frog designs an individual glare. 

“What the fuck are you talking about?” He sighs.

“The aliens.”

“The what?”

“Aliens, UFOs? I’ll look up a dictionary definition for you if you’ve never heard the word before.” You tease and he scowls. 

“I know what the word means dumbass.” 

“You sure don’t seem like you do, or is this part of a test?” 

He sighs. “What?” 

“A test? You know, keeping stuff top secret? Deep throat? Cigarette smoking man?”

He rolls his eyes and goes back to his work, “You watch too much X-Files.” He grumbles.

“Yeah, but you got the reference.” 

He smiles in spite of himself. 

“So, when are you gonna tell me about them.” You put your laptop on the side, your feet on the floor as you roll your chair closer to him. 

He doesn’t look up. “I say this with all the energy I have: what the fuck?”

“Blue Book.” You lean closer. 

He pauses soldering, an unimpressed look crossing his face. But you know he loves the attention really. 

“Aliens. What’s the deal?” 

“Are you high?” 

You snort.

“Because if you are,” he gives you another glare, “I want some.”

“Project Blue Book, it’s a code name by the American air force about UFOs.”

He gives you a blank look.

“Are you seriously telling me you didn’t know?” You pause, “you’re such a sci-fi nerd, I highly doubt it.”

He puts the soldering iron down. “Did they breach my copyright? Have I got to send a cease and desist?” He sounds sincere, but you know Nathan. What he sounds like doesn’t mean anything. 

“It was like a term in the fifties, I doubt you’d be able to sue.” 

He shrugs, “I could try.” 

You groan and flop back into your chair, “Are you for real? You really didn’t know? I was so sure you got some secret alien communications.” You pout playfully, “I was hoping for some nonsense about your androids really being made so you could send them into space to talk with extra terrestrials.”

He frowns, “And why would I send androids?” 

“Because they wouldn’t age when you gotta travel like, 50 million light years or something.” 

“What’s the point in contacting aliens if I don’t get to meet them and fuck them?”

“Nathan!” You snort, despite trying to keep a straight face. 

“What?” He shrugs again.

You tut. 

“If there’s aliens I’m gonna fuck them.” 

You laugh, “What if they’re like Aliens aliens, trying to lay their eggs in you?” 

“Sounds hot.” He grins. 

You giggle and shake your head.

“Plus, the tongue is like another mouth, which I think,” he swivels around in his chair, giving you his now full, undivided attention. “Would give an amazing blow job and-”

“She’d bite your dick off.”

“Nah, nah, nah,” he shakes his head, “my dick’s too hard for that.”

You burst out laughing, “What?” 

“What I just said.”

“Nathan-”

“It’s rock hard at all times, could deflect bullets, it has in fact.”

“It has?” You can’t get over the silly expression he’s pulling. It’s stubble, a little glimmer in his eyes and a smile at his lips, but it’s so very endearing. 

“Sure, it’s saved my life, saved other people’s lives. Just,” he mimics hitting a baseball, “smacks the bullets right outta here. In fact, it’s super dangerous, because when it deflects them it actually makes the bullets go faster in whatever directly they’re hit, so,” he breathes in deeply, like this was a serious issue, “could hurt bystanders.” 

“Are you having fun?” You laugh, resting your elbow on his work table, your chin on your hand. 

He nods. 

“Fucking nerd.” You tease, grinning.

“Says you.”

“Says me?”

“You’re the one talking about UFO conspiracies.”

“Okay first,” you sit up, wriggling a little in your seat as you raise a finger, about to start on a shpeal. “Project Blue Book wasn’t a conspiracy, it really happened. I was just being a shit about the aliens bit, UFOs don’t mean aliens, they mean-”

He leans forward quickly and kisses you. 

The action takes you by surprise, how his lips feel against yours, how his beard brushes against you. He tastes a little of that stupid fennel toothpaste he uses, the one that he proclaims is the best for your gums but tastes like an overload of aniseed and salt. The one that you tried once and never again. The one that you tease him for using at any given opportunity.

But now you lean closer, your hand on his cheek as you lick into his mouth, trying to swallow down any essence of the taste. 

He groans a little as your tongue strokes his, his hum is pleasant as it vibrates into you. He slides his hand to your waist, pulling your chair even closer to him. The heat from his palm permeates into you, soothing your muscles, making you ease even further into his touch. 

When he pulls back after a long moment, he sighs. It’s the smallest, sweetest sound through his nose, a low grumble of contentment in his chest. He presses his forehead against yours for a second.

You swallow and he opens his eyes at the sound, moving back a fraction. 

“If I’d known that would shut you up, I would have done it ages ago.” He grins. 

You mock gasp, playfully pretending to hit him on the shoulder. “You’re the worst.”

He giggles, scooting his chair closer to you whenever you move away, “Don’t worry, I’ll kiss it better.” 

Thank you for reading!

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[mamirhodessxox]

The Great Gatsby Incorrect Quotes #1

Jordan: Hey, about that love letter you sent me-

Nick: *blushes* What are your thoughts?

Jordan: The fourth sentence-

Nick: Yeah, that’s where I got really emotional and I-

Jordan: It’s “you’re” not “your”.

-•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•-

Y/N: I can't believe you've done this.....

Gatsby: I'm sorry I didn't know-!

Y/N, on the verge of tears: YOU CAN'T JUST BUY ME A GIFT OUT OF NOWHERE NOW I FEEL LIKE A HUGE ASSHOLE!

-•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•-

Nick: The only thing keeping me from running away and hiding from society for the rest of my life is spite. I could disappear forever, but there are some bitches whose downfalls I have yet to witness, and I wanna be around when that happens.

-•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•-

Murderer: Any last words?

Jordan: Do you think I'm cute? Be honest.

-•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•-

Jordan: I have a bad feeling about this, guys.

Y/N: Oh don’t worry, you’ll be fine.

Gatsby: Yeah, what’s the worst that could happen?

Jordan, being bailed out of jail the next morning: I hate you all.

-•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•-

Nick: You look like a corpse that was just pulled out of the river.

Gatsby: Wrong. I look like a cool rock star who just OD'd in their own pool. Big difference.

-•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•-

Nick: So you’re dating Y/N?

Gatsby: What? No! I’m just buying them an accessory since they have terrible fashion sense.

Nick: That’s literally a wedding ring.

-•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•-

Gatsby: You don't know anything about me!

Nick: I know EVERYTHING about you! You are an open book written for very dumb children!

-•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•-

Gatsby: Say no to drugs.

Nick: Say yes to drugs.

Jordan: It doesn't matter if you say yes or no to drugs. If you're talking to drugs.. then you're on drugs.

-•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•-

Nick: Why are you drinking?

Gatsby: I drink when I'm depressed.

Nick: But you're always drinking?

Gatsby: *smug grin*

-•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•-

Nick: You know, when I first met you I thought you were a real bitch.

Tom: What changed your mind?

Nick: Oh, now I know that you’re a fake bitch. Why do you ask?

-•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•-

*Gatsby comes home absolutely drunk, undresses, and stands in Y/N’s bedroom.*

Y/N: Babe, are you.. coming to bed?

Gatsby: No thank you, I’m sure you’re lovely but I have a girlfriend.

Gatsby: *Lies on the ground and falls asleep*

Y/N: ...

-•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•-

Nick: I wish I could control wasps and bees to sting my enemies.

Gatsby: You’re too young to have enemies.

Nick: You don’t even know.

-•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•-

Tom: *sneaking in through their window*

Y/N: *turning in their chair and flicking the light one* You want to tell me where you've been all night?

Tom: I was with Daisy?

Daisy: *turning in their chair* Wanna try again?

-•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•-

Nick: Tom has no survival skills, their need to win has replaced them.

Daisy: That can't be true!

Nick: Watch this.

Nick: Hey Tom, race you to the bottom of the stairs!

Tom: *Throws themself out a window*

-•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•-

Tom: FIGHT ME, YOU NERD ASS SLUT!

Nick: At least try to sound slightly more sophisticated when you threaten someone.

Tom: Oh, I'm sorry. I should ask; dost thou want to engage in a duel, my good bitch?

Nick: Somehow that's worse.

-•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•-

Tom: They say that the most valuable things cost nothing.

Y/N: They also say that being cheap is an annoying trait, so don’t overuse that excuse.

-•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•-

Y/N: Come on, Nick. Nobody actually believes that Gatsby is in love with me.

Nick, to The Squad: Raise your hand if you think that Gatsby is helplessly in love with Y/N

*Everyone raises their hand*

Y/N: Gatsby, put your hand down.

-•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•-

Daisy: What did Tom do this time?

Nick: More like WHO did Tom do this time?

-•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•-

Gatsby: *dangling from a rope over a pit of fire* Remember when I said I’d tell you when we’re in too deep?

Y/N: Yes?

Gatsby: We’re in too deep.

-•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•--•-•-•-•-•-

🏷️ list: @ginswife @coolpastelartshoe @greatkoalawizard @cokolin044 @kotoriarlert @alicerosejensen @bunnybot55 @valkyrurx @agent-dessis-posts @adollonyourshelf

[henrysglock]

The Dustin Experiment—Review

Rating: 2/5 Author: J.L. D'Amato

The Dustin Experiment was an unexpectedly easy read, especially coming off The Silmarillion. It's marketed as a young adult novel, but it's something I would have read as a fifth grader. I finished it, notes and all, in under 4 hours. I even handed it off to my mother, fearing my "good at reading" autism—paired with the fact that my father majored in literature, meaning advanced books were the status-quo in my household growing up as a result—was the culprit. She pegged it as a sixth grade novel within the first couple of pages. I'm not sure if it was the fault of Random House's categorization or the declining literacy rate in the States, but I was definitely expecting a plot that was a little more complex, or at least characters whose motivations were more complex.

The novel follows Dustin through the first semester of high school, specifically through a regional science fair that neither Lucas or Mike want to participate in with him. Along the way, the fraying relationships between the remaining Party members are explored, as well as the foundations of Dustin's bond with Eddie—who offers to be Dustin's ride to the science fair.

I can't say the book didn't deliver exactly that. However, I do have a few criticisms.

One: The editing

There were certain instances in the book where I couldn't believe D'Amato's editor didn't offer a correct of some kind.

Repetition 1. Claudia starts a running bit about Dustin electrocuting himself. It's funny the first time (page 28). But when Eddie says the exact same thing just a few pages later (page 34)—without a justifiable reason, because Eddie is not like a parent to Dustin, he's an older brother figure, so even using it as a parallel wouldn't make sense—it feels tired. When Claudia reuses the exact bit a couple chapters later, it's far overdone (page 60). 2. Max's social withdrawal over Billy's death is mentioned right away (page 3), and it's brought up in full no less than six times throughout the 290 page novel (pages 10, 87, 118 (x2!), and 237). "Max has been absent ever since Billy's death last year" should have been brought up once, maybe twice, and then left to the reader's memory afterward. 3. Interdimensional monsters is another one. This is the "interdimensional monsters" show. It doesn't need to be blatantly said more than twice. Alas, it's referenced in full no less than six times throughout the story (pages 2, 3, 41, 132, 159, and 166). Again, overkill. 4. There were some odd phrases that repeated word for word, specifically about Claudia having grown up in Hawkins. These ^^ are just the most blatant/egregious examples. I felt like I was reading an essay where the author was struggling to meet a word limit, and I'm not sure why someone proofreading this book wouldn't catch that. If this is supposed to be a young adult book, then make it young adult writing. Hell, Dustin and Suzie are reference reading Neuromancer—an adult book—but even if this book had been intended for kids, kids aren't stupid. There was too much hand-holding overall for a Stranger Things story. Show, don't tell.

Callbacks The author is trying entirely too hard to reference the TV show and flex knowledge of the 80s. Mr. Mom makes an appearance, there's a reference to black widow spiders being scary and dangerous (but no mention from Dustin the Science Nerd about how the fear is unfounded because black widows are largely docile until provoked), a reference to the exact month Ghostbusters came out on VHS, so on and so forth within this general vibe of trying too hard.

Grammar There were numerous instances of clunky phrasing, incorrect use of punctuation (specifically overuse of commas and unwillingness to use semicolons where semicolons would have worked best), and overlooked issues with italics (like on page 216, when the show Dynasty is italicized...along with the rest of the phrase it appears in. Or the paragraph on page 32 where, like, every sixth word is italicized). This is particularly ironic given the two pages at the start of Chapter 14 wherein Mike corrects Dustin's grammar. Again, I'm not sure how an editor would have missed all these instances. Also, there's a line of dialogue for Lucas that's ripped directly from a tumblr post. Dead fucking ass. Mike, Lucas, and Dustin are discussing horror movie protags doing stupid things, and Lucas says that the protags "don't have the luxury of being genre aware". I've reblogged that exact post at least once this year. I mean, come on. It does make the too-detailed moments about the 80s ironic, though. Comes off as the author trying so hard to be "relatable" that the vibe of the 80s is lost despite having the details that supposedly "prove" she knows the 80s.

Two: The characterization

The only characters that felt true were Steve, Robin, and Claudia. I'm sorry, but it's true. Dustin felt like a caricature of himself, at once totally self-absorbed—bordering on genuinely narcissistic at times—and weirdly socially conscious. He criticizes Lucas for joining basketball without understanding the social context of that choice, but then turns around and uses modern speak about basketball being "a pointless ritual glorifying outdated ideals of masculinity" to do that criticizing. Dustin is particularly angry in this novel, which isn't really supported by the show. Even when he's being abandoned in ST3, he doesn't show it very outwardly (or at least he doesn't do it often). Also, Dustin refers to D’art as a monster at least twice. He would not fucking say that, or whatever the kids are saying these day.

The author makes numerous callbacks to The First Shadow (like Dustin being encouraged to join drama club/try out for the school play/musical, and referenced to both his parents having grown up in Hawkins), but she doesn't manage to get the characterizations of either Walter Henderson or Alan Munson right. Walter in TFS is quite devoted to Claudia, to the point of snapping at Henry just for referring to her as a "chick". I never pegged him as the type to cheat on her. Alan, on the other hand, is referenced as having smacked Eddie around in anger. This isn't consistent with any version of Alan. TFS Alan is a sensitive theater boy who's very good at empathizing and showing compassion to those who may not "deserve" it (like Jim Hopper's asshole dad, who is re-framed by Alan as a single dad trying his best). In Flight of Icarus, Alan is an absentee deadbeat who's largely a coward. He'll let Eddie take the fall for his schemes, but as far as I recall, there are no mentions of him abusing Eddie physically.

On another note, The basketball team. They are way too active as bullies—especially Jason. I feel like the author forgot that these are Hawkins' golden boys. Jason has an image to protect, and he doesn't go after Eddie/the nerds unless he's provoked. Having the team pelt Dustin and Mike with basketballs no less than three times is not only overkill, it's also out of character. Actively bullying Dustin and Mike physically feels "below" the basketball team—the same way that stepping on El's project is a low for Angela, who prefers verbal bullying, and the milkshake scene is a provoked incident because El is perceived as having gotten Angela in trouble.

I'm aware that these novels are not meant to be strictly canon, but all this feels like the author was missing source material and the editor didn't care enough to catch it.

This ^^ extends into canonicity issues overall, the largest of which serves to demonize Lucas.

Lucas is written as having missed all of first semester Hellfire club specifically for basketball stuff. There's really no mention of that in filmed canon—in fact, the tournament is positioned as the first time Lucas has to miss Hellfire. Lucas is also in the club's yearbook picture, shirt and all, which heavily implies that he was in Hellfire from the start along with Dustin and Mike.

Lucas's absence is used to villainize him in Dustin's eyes, and we don't ever get a real apology from Dustin about how he treated Lucas on account of basketball. The two make up, but it's in the way of "we were both assholes". No! Lucas was not in the wrong, here! Dustin has been a self-absorbed the asshole, and he acknowledges as much mentally! If the author had leaned into "Dustin feels weird taking responsibility for xyz reasons", fleshing out Dustin as a character, then I could give it a pass. Without that....it just feel like finding a way to create an object for Dustin's ire, with Lucas being the easy fall guy.

Having Lucas so easily and willingly "ditch" his friends is also antithetical to the Lucas we see in ST5, who's trying so hard to make everything work out re: the tournament. The Lucas in this book had already given up on making both groups mesh, regardless of the fact that Dustin showed up for one of his practices. (Which, Lucas making baskets and fitting easily into the team? When he's a bench warmer canonically? Doesn't make sense. If you've ever been a bench warmer on a school team sport, you know what I mean.)

There's also mention of Will, Jon, and El all being seen as the "weird" kids from Indiana, and everyone in Cali treating them like freaks. El is the only one we see being treated like a freak. Jon has a friend, and he's never shown being bullied. Will is a wallflower, we're never shown him being mistreated.

Riddle me this: Is Will being treated like a weirdo, or is he avoiding being treated like a weirdo by freezing up on El when she needs him most? Can't have it both ways.

I also found it ironic that the author had Will lecturing Dustin on communication, when he himself does not communicate well. Like oh, so you're saying he's a hypocrite? If that was the author's intent, I'd call it a sexy move, but it was painted as Will being "wise". Alas.

The same goes for D'Amato having Dustin tell Will that everything has crumbled without him. This is not the case. Everything has crumbled because Lucas is absent. The Party has always been fine without Will. It has always suffered without Lucas. ST1 will tell you that. So, unless the author's intent was to highlight Dustin not being able to accept that Lucas is the missing linchpin and him pushing that "blame", so to speak, onto Will's absence, then....okay. Sexy move. However, with Dustin being so openly and over-explainedly frustrated about Lucas "ditching" them/how him drifting away is causing so much grief, I can't imagine that kind of nuanced subtext was the goal in mind.

Three: The plot

My biggest beef with the plot is the Indianapolis science fair saboteur plot. The ending was supremely fucking cheesy and Sooby-Doo "and I would have gotten away with it if it weren't for you meddling kids" in essence. Hell, the "villain" whips out an "I'm not letting you Scooby-Doo wannabes get in my way" right at the end. It's not even an entertaining way to end that arc. Sigh.

Dustin is up against a bunch of smart kids from the prestigious Edgewood academy, namely Danny, Anika, and Brian. Brian is a senior, and he informs Dustin of a "curse" that's been plaguing the science fair—that is, destroying people's projects. The "curse" hits Anika's project, and Dustin takes it upon himself to solve it with Danny and Eddie's help. They record a tape of the saboteurs talking, and they go to Brian for help, since he's a senior and a victim of the "curse" himself. Brian sends them on a wild goose chase, claiming one of the voices sounds like his classmate Richard Rasch. Dick Rasch. Dick rash.

Dustin realizes he's been hoodwinked, and that Brian was the one on the tape. How he didn't realize it initially, I don't know. Alas, Brian has erased the recording, leaving Dustin with absolutely no proof. Dustin confronts Brian anyway, and Brian, the genius multi-year saboteur, just fucking snidely spills his guts about it. Two pages of straight up exposé. If Brian is so smart, and he's been able to pull this off for multiple years with no one catching him, then how is he stupid enough to admit to it? Hello? There's no evidence! There's nothing linked to him! Dustin and Brian both acknowledge that there's no proof. Are you kidding me??? He's a well-liked senior! He could absolutely bullshit his way out and call Dustin a jealous liar to cover his ass. But of course, the Mr. Clarke-wannabe, Mr. Adams, is oh-so conveniently right there to overhear all of that, since Brian had erased Dustin's recording.

It would have been so easy to give Dustin a second bit of proof to make this all more of a legitimate mystery solving trap. Like, say, cameras. Cameras are so important to ST canon overall, and it would be so easy to have Dustin ask Mr. Adams to check some tapes to prove that Brian is the saboteur without this cheap, nonsensical cop-out ending. They're in a nice building in Indianapolis! If HNL has cameras, then this building can, too, and the cameras would be the one thing Brian wouldn't think to even try to erase, since no one has suspected him so far. Dustin could figure out the saboteur from the deleted recording, but he could get hard proof from a camera when Brian has one-upped him. Make it a chess game! Like the chess game from NINA, people moving proof and pieces like pawns in the game! Make a another tryhard callback! You named your fake character Richard for fuck's sake! Like Richard BRENNER from the newspapers! It's not hard to write a satisfying ending. Brian could still have his silly little exposé moment without the entire thing resting flatly on it, should Dustin have found some other hard proof by knowing when to find an adult—especially one who's so willing to help, given Mr. Adam's similarities to Mr. Clarke (they both even have a mustache). The ending to that arc was cheap, easy, and anticlimactic. Upsettingly so.

This ^^ quite literally ruined the plot of the book for me. Sorry, not sorry. Characterization is one thing. Editing is another. But the plot? The plot has to at least be passable to make the former two excusable. And it was! It was! Right up until this bullshit ending to the mystery. Do better. It's not hard.

Editing was poor, characterization was meh at best, and the plot tripped over its gun and shot itself in the head in the home stretch.

As such, The Dustin Experiment receives 2/5 stars from me.

[kissbyoon]

✆ : @/lizelsies (instagram) || ia discord. || prod. by A

★ CONTINUE PLAYING : cheers by svt leaders.

ೀ ABOUT ME

⋆ HIII <3 I'm liza, south asian — s.her, minor, fem, full-time student, gemini (06/16), INFJ, +5:30, thalassophobic ,, I speak english, hindi & assamese! //

#1 jjeongjjongie & joshushu!! (bias line: wonu, hoshi, kwan, chan — ot13 ^^) also a stay & 42! (a casual follower of zb1, bnd, aespa, illit, atz, katseye, txt, enha & twice!) ◠‿◠ღ

ೀ LIKES

(verkwan & jihan girlies)!! banana chips, food, music, dancing & singing, writing, daydreaming, sanrio, puppies, cute things, cold coffee, hugging & leaning my head on someone's shoulder (ITS SO COMFY), interactive and humorous people, people who respect my personal time & space <3

ೀ DISLIKES

lizards, black coffee, spinach, ungrateful, judgy, complicated & disrespectful people, those who have a questionable attitude, make fun of something a person can't control, overuse of slag words (once in a while is completely fine) ... etc.

ೀ BYI (before you interact)

I'm all about Jeonghan & SVT, I don't use tone tags (lmk if u need them), sometimes too delulu, if I'm comfortable w you, i like to use koreaboo terms as a joke, I'm a pro-palestine, late replies (I'm a nerd *LAUGHS*), pls have common sense ily, I do not fw dry texting & people who have insane mood swings ... etc.

ೀ DNI (do not interact)

if you/you're -13 and +28, antis of my favs, disrespect or hate my moots, causing fanwars, dry texter, no humour (ruins my mood smh smh), pedo, pro-shippers, have an insane dirty mind (mild is okay, I do too), ++basic criteria.

MY LIFE MOTTO: never bite the hand that fingers you (smth like that) 😔☝🏻, "Oh mai gad 😱 look at my fit!!" *rips the pant off* "oh, you have to pay for it" "no, but— look at my fit!", "DO YOU WANT A DELAYED PUNCH?", "the moment you think you can win against me, is when you've already lost", "Gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss", "I love you to death!" "Then die! (◠‿◠)", *insert all horror gose eps*

IN PICS:

KISSBYOON 2025. all rights reserved. prev : @/yjhzies

[alliminoobers]

The Aftermath - RRAU Drabble

Just a little story I cooked up for a little bit more angst for y'all. Shirevas is not having a good time at all guys. Also, Rooks mentioned: Coren - @wrdn-tabris Nels - @madrabbit014 Isiah - @a-mumbling-nerd Alecto - @alystrin03 And also a mention of a rook that will stay mysterious for now~

Word Count: 554

Shirevas was in their room, a space they didn't use as much but now was a brief locked safe haven. They had been treating their frostbitten arm, the blackened spots didn't seem to disappear, they wondered if it was because they were caused by magic.

Being back at the lighthouse felt suffocating, at least a few had approached them, asking if they were okay or if they wanna talk. The answer was simple; no, they weren't okay and no they didn't want to talk. They wanted to scream, yell, cry or just anything to soothe the pain they were feeling. Punching Coren earlier felt good in the moment, although he hadn't been wrong, Minrathous was rotten in its own way.

But all those innocent people, every poor person and every slave that just, were left in the streets. Bloodied corpses strewn everywhere. None of them deserved this.

It made them feel sick. Minrathous had burned, fear and pain had crawled into the minds of so many, the air had smelled of iron and static. There were moments of guilt when thinking of how Treviso could have fallen instead, how maybe that for once people could show up for Minrathous. It was shameful how they had momentary thoughts of Treviso being the city who fell instead. That guilt was accompanied with frustration when thinking of how some of the Shadow Dragons had chosen to go to Treviso, like Nels, Isiah and anyone else, but they couldn't fault them in the end. Didn't mean it didn't sting though.

Shirevas had fallen victim though, in Minrathous , the Venatori had them cornered, desperation had them in a grip as they were overusing their magic. As they did something they had sworn to never do ever again.

As they, in an act of desperation, used blood magic on the Venatori, fear settling in their bones when the Venatori wasn't the only one affected by the magic. When someone else was caught in the crossfire. 

When someone else got hurt because of them.

Fuck, there was no way they could stay any longer in the lighthouse, not like this. They needed to kill more Venatori, they needed to make sure no more Shadow Dragons fell. 

Had to ignore the buzzing under their skin slowly driving them mad.

In the back of their head, they knew this wasn't healthy by any means. To go and keep fighting without rest. But Shirevas didn’t wanna stay, didn't want to feel guilt everytime they looked at the crows, didn't want to be idle while their home was being burned by something they could have prevented. If only they had seen it coming, then maybe it would all be fine—

They let out a shuddery breath, stepping out of their room before their mind could spiral again. 

Alecto was standing right outside, fist raised to knock. “Shirevas-” 

“Can't talk right now.” They quickly sidestepped her, not looking at her as they felt a pang of guilt. Shirevas wanted nothing more than to collapse in her arms and cry. 

Oh but what if you hurt her?

Shirevas was already getting out of there, doing their best to ignore Alecto and subsequently anyone else they passed on their way to the eluvian. They needed to keep themselves busy.  They refused to lose anybody else, no matter what.

[luffyvace]

〜Kats x black gn! Reader〜

Katsuki x black reader seems like power couple so I’m doing it 😎

enjoy<33

Okay so starting off with your drip

he honestly thinks your fits is 🔝 tier!!

but he never says it out loud 😐

if he does it’s at least not directly 🤷‍♀️

words of affirmation isn’t his thing..

but you know what is?!

act of serviceeeee 🤪

soooo..he’ll buy you clothes!

some times he’ll surprise you with stuff he knows you’d like and say he just happen to walk by

(he deliberately went looking for it)

and other times he just tells you to throw some clothes on, takes you to your fav clothing shop and tell you to pick out what you want 🤷‍♀️😊

he’s probably already picked up on AAVE from others he’s heard talking and context clues

so you can use it around him without having to explain

He’ll use it occasionally if the situation calls for it but he always uses it right—and never overuses it when unnecessary

as for your hair he’s more likely to buy you the products than he is to actually help you wash your hair

just cuz he knows you know what your doing

plus you can do it yourself, your not his child 😂

he could if he wanted to, but he chooses to stick to restocking your supply :)

his head massages>>

and by that i mean if you just got your hair braided and your head hurts he’ll gently massage your head without messing your hair up

Your hair is probably filled with oil and cream but he can just wash his hands :P

(If) he can braid hair i feel he wouldn’t have a problem with doing it

his braids and lines would be straight and he’d be quick at doing it after getting the hang of it too

if he can’t for some reason or another he’ll book you a good hair place/hair dresser

he’ll give you his moms hair products not to mention!

certainly gets it for free too

no way he’s paying for his ‘old hag’s” crap 😒

-katsuki

(he probably has his own from her because she forces him to take it. He likely avoided it at first and used something else out of spite, but once he tried it and discovered it works really well he started using hers instead)

besides after mitsuki finds out he’s getting some of it for you he gets extra from her

(partially bc she made him take it and partially because he wanted you to have some as a gift)

your food (let’s say you can whip up some delicious food) is pretty good to him!

he easily prefers cooking with you over any other class 1a student

simply because he tolerates (loves you) way more than any of them

cooking with him is pretty fun since your good and you don’t get yelled at!

you have a good nose for seasoning as well~

another thing ;P

your features are something he admires often

if you sit in front and diagonal to him it’ll be easier for him to not get caught

but he won’t deliberately turn around to stare if not, obv 🤡

he likes how distinct they are, gives him a lot to observe

i don’t know he just really likes looking at you (in a non creepy, romantic, way) 👍

especially when you look so peaceful while sleeping <3

your culture/dancing is something interesting for him to learn

And whether you know it or not yes he likes to learn (nerd 🤓☝️)

he leans more towards your culture tho

and there’s nothing you can do to get him to dance..

but he’ll watch you dance !

ofc not in a weird way, just seeing the dance itself and criticizing it (not in a rude way dw)

btw

Imma tell you right here right now no matter how dark or light your skin is, it was never a problem for him and never will be💗

he buys you bonnets when they rip or you loose them

if you loose them and he finds it after buying you another one he’s gonna smack you upside the head 😆👍

He probably relates with some things as far as if you have strict parents :P

actually, not probably.

so at least you have someone you could talk to about that

moral of the story? you and katsuki are highly compatible 💗👍

Trying to clear my drafts 😛

hope you enjoyed these dear black readers!!

[steddieunderdogfics]

The Very Thought Of You by ParadimeShifts

@paradimeshifts7

Rating: Explicit

65,877 words, 9/9 chapters

Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Upside Down (Stranger Things), Jazz Musician AU, Pianist Eddie Munson, Singer Steve Harrington, Top Eddie Munson, Power Bottom Steve Harrington, Dom/sub Undertones, Rough Sex, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Rimming, Light Bondage, Frottage, Dacryphilia, Spit As Lube, Angst with a Happy Ending, Violence, Hurt/Comfort, Eddie Munson Whump, Rich bitch Steve Harrington, Pretty Boy Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington Has Bad Parents, we all know this, Eddie Munson's unexpected praise kink, they're just obsessed with each other, Fluff, Look I PROMISE there will be fluff -- you can trust me, Jazz piano as a metaphor for love, Overuse of musical terminology, Author is a huge nerd and is not sorry, Dry Humping, Coming In Pants, Mirror Sex, Crying During Sex, in the emotional release way

Summary

The jazz music scene explodes when world-renowned pianist Eddie Munson is spotted getting cozy with a mystery man in New York City. Journalists have managed to link the pretty face to the prestigious Harrington name, an old money family with business all over the globe and a direct link to Diana Harrington, famous jazz starlet. But reports of bad trades and schemes gone wrong are beginning to muddy the waters of this particular love story, and it’s only a matter of time before the real origins of this torrid affair emerge.

Thanks for the rec!

This rec is a part of Challenge Monday. The challenge this week was Fics with 9/9 chapters.

Know a fic that deserves extra love? Submit through our asks or the submission box!

[thepaladinstrait]

✮  IN  TRENCH  I'M  NOT  ALONE  ✮

✮  ALEX  /  FINN  ━━━ they/he/xe/it ⋆ non binary ⋆ demisexual ⋆ pansexual ⋆ minor ⋆ infp-t ⋆ type 2w1 ⋆ south aus ⋆ dog person ⋆ black cat ⋆ depressed but sometimes i'm funny ⋆ fanfiction reader and writer ⋆ purple is my favourite colour ever ⋆ permanently dehydrated ⋆ sleep deprived ⋆ hot chocolate addict ⋆ music is everything to me ⋆ angst writer ⋆ headphones on 24/7 ⋆ i live here ⋆ spotify loml ⋆ clikkie ⋆ theatre nerd ⋆ amethysts are my favourite ⋆ crystal queer ⋆ grammar nerd but i type in only lowercase ⋆ green belt in karate ⋆ slytherin ⋆ pinterest whore ⋆ i leave unhinged tags on your posts ⋆ i can rap the entirety of hamilton ⋆ fnaf obsessed ⋆ mentally ill ⋆ #1 leave the city fan ⋆ rpf writer ⋆ autistic ⋆ i infodump way too much ⋆ professional oversharer ⋆ otter lover ⋆ reputation and ttpd stan ⋆ winning at the game of dyscalculia ⋆ poet (in theory) ⋆ perpetually curious ⋆ dreamer ⋆ stargazer ⋆ high schooler ⋆ i vent a bit too often ⋆ choker and necklace wearer ⋆ procrastinator ⋆ an absolute loser ⋆ horror movie lover ⋆ true crime podcast listener ⋆ asmr defender ⋆ victim of the spelling curse ⋆ black jewellery is superior ⋆ dark chocolate defender ⋆ uno bully ⋆ i overuse exclamation marks ⋆ scaled and icy defender ⋆ i hyperfixate way too easily ⋆ sleeps with stuffed animals ⋆ drummer of ultraviolet angels ⋆ free palestine

✮  MUSIC ━━━ twenty one pilots ⋆ my chemical romance ⋆ sleep token ⋆ billie eilish ⋆ lyn lapid ⋆ ed sheeran ⋆ bmike ⋆ alec benjamin ⋆ maddie zahm ⋆ taylor swift ⋆ sabrina carpenter ⋆ we three ⋆ olivia rodrigo ⋆ xana ⋆ kelsea ballerini ⋆ conan gray ⋆ finneas ⋆ lewis capaldi ⋆ boygenius ⋆ harry styles ⋆ cavetown ⋆ gracie abrams ⋆ waterparks ⋆ dove cameron ⋆ semler ⋆ paramore ⋆ chappell roan ⋆ birdy ⋆ anson seabra ⋆ korn ⋆ ethel cain

✮  MY SONGS ━━━ achilles come down (gang of youths) ⋆ leave the city (twenty one pilots) ⋆ oldies station (twenty one pilots) ⋆ matilda (harry styles) ⋆ family line (conan gray) ⋆ illicit affairs (taylor swift) ⋆ the anonymous ones (dear evan hansen) ⋆ hurricane (hamilton) ⋆ slipping through my fingers (abba) ⋆ hope ur ok (olivia rodrigo) ⋆ another love (tom odell) ⋆ photograph (ed sheeran) ⋆ that's on me (ed sheeran) ⋆ the light behind your eyes (my chemical romance) ⋆ astronomy (conan gray) ⋆ love in the dark (adele)

✮  BOOKS ━━━ the song of achilles ⋆ nevermoor ⋆ keeper of the lost cities ⋆ the dictionary of lost words ⋆ if he had been with me ⋆ the help ⋆ girl in pieces ⋆ a good girls guide to murder ⋆ hunger games ⋆ divergent ⋆ the dead poets society

✮  MUSICALS ━━━ hamilton ⋆ dear evan hansen ⋆ six ⋆ mean girls ⋆ wicked ⋆ the addams family ⋆ in the heights ⋆ the greatest showman ⋆ jesus christ superstar ⋆ legally blonde ⋆ mamma mia ⋆ mary poppins ⋆ newsies ⋆ matilda

✮  MY CHARACTERS ━━━ charlie spring ⋆ patroclus ⋆ alexander hamilton ⋆ katniss everdeen ⋆ pippa fitz amobi ⋆ tao xu ⋆ remus lupin

✮  ALT BLOG AND LINKS AND OTHER SOCIALS

@emailsicantfuckingsend - poetry blog

discord - conjectureandgloom

pinterest

spotify

ao3

dm for personal instagram if we are close

✮  MY TAGS

me :) - random posts about me and my life

personal - personal vents. will be tagged appropriately with triggers if necessary. format for triggers will be '#tw ___'. common tw's will be self harm (tagged as sh), discussion of suicide (tagged as both sui and suicide), eating disorders (tagged as ed), and panic attacks (tagged as panic attacks)

finncore - posts that are mecore

alex /pos - daily positivity posts (currently not being done)

arch 🐾 - my dog and loml and baby, archie

five nights at finn's - fnaf posting

tag games - self explanatory

asks - self explanatory. tagged with url of asker or anon dearest

little guy clancy - my beloved little guy, catboy clancy <33

crop top ty - tyler joseph in the tulip crop top

the chronicles of crop top ty - visit this post for explanation

finn irl - photos of me :)

alex on the drooms - drums!!!!!!!

✮  NOTE ━━━ dms and discord are always open!! i love talking to new people, and i love getting new mutuals!!!! my ask box is always open to random vents or for advice, or if anyone just wants to pop in to say hey, by inbox is here!!!!! i might come off as slightly awkward though, and this is my formal apology for that. i also tend to forget that i have things in my inbox? so i'm so sorry for that too

credit to @svnflowermoon for the intro post format

[dozing-marshmallow]

HEATHERS CHARACTERS DOING SPEAKING EXAM HEADCANONS

(For context, speaking exams involve students picking a topic to write a speech on to present to their class. Distinction is the best grade you can get, merit is the middle grade and pass is the minimum grade.)

Veronica:

Veronica made her speech about overused tropes in literature and the importance of well written characters.

She was one of the first to perform, even volunteering, sensing the anxiety among her peers.

Despite practising with JD, she wasn't used to presenting so while her voice was loud, she let out a few filler words and laughs.

Had memorised it, but had the paper copy on her just in case.

The class were pretty respectful of her, especially the Heathers, during her speech and afterwards.

She had just managed to get a distinction.

JD:

He was confused about what to make it about.

The teacher suggested he could make his speech about his experiences with moving around a lot, but he didn't want to give his classmates any sensitive information.

So he spoke about why history is important, when it really was a metaphorical threat to bomb the school if things didn't change.

He was smiling and walking around the front of the class the entire time, having it memorised yet improvising too.

One of the questions he was asked after was "why is [his] voice so weird?".

He got a distinction.

Heather Chandler:

She made hers about a really condescending lesson to the "losers" about how to dress fashionably.

A lot of the things she said did not match with what she wrote down.

So she was basically directly patronising a large majority of her classmates, even stopping the speech a few times to give them a glare.

Furthermore, her vocabulary was really basic apart from her summaries of outfit combinations.

Any genuine questions from the nerds, she would fake a smile, give some advice and make it clear that she has no hope in them actually "getting themselves fixed in the head".

It was pointless since she got a pass anyway.

Normally she wouldn’t care about grades, but in this particular project, Heather resented it so much that she started stealing things from the teacher.

Heather McNamara:

She made hers about the dark side of athletes' lives.

She was gonna make it solely about cheerleaders, but she didn't want it to be too personal and wanted to avoid being bullied if her classmates picked up on it.

She was really nervous so she was reading from her paper the whole time.

Similar to Chandler’s, her language was simple, but she manipulated her tone to get a higher mark.

Thankfully, no one really caught on that she was speaking from personal experience.

She even did a curtsy when she was done.

Heather was quite comfortable with the answering questions part, mainly because most of them were questions she gave to her classmates to ask prior.

She was really happy that she got a merit.

Heather Duke: 

She made hers about eating disorders, but too structured it in a way to make it sound like it wasn't a personal problem.

Was also able to memorise it.

She was one of the last to perform so she felt confident, hearing all the other serious and lesser serious topics her classmates chose.

However, Heather Chandler was purposely coughing, snickering and staring intensely at her when she spoke.

So she paused and stuttered a few times, and with no physical copy of her speech, she accidentally repeated a few things to get back on track.

Heather was really prepared to answer the questions, even the mocking ones Heather C was spewing.

She was so close to getting a distinction, but ended up getting a merit.

Heather was really upset, but Veronica cheered her up.

[cravingpepsimax]

HI i am also an autistic nerd that loves critique and i agree w/ u. but i feel like i also get why ppl get defensive about it. a lot of proshippers have been unfairly critiqued for what they write, and struggle to separate that from well-intended, well-thought out critique. also rsd makes ppl's kneejerk reactions (often defensiveness) come out

but the thing is, if you disagree with someone's critique and dont want to engage with it, you can also just scroll past. you have to understand that other people like to see opinions that differ from their own. as long as they aren't butting into someone else's blog or fic to criticize it, ppl can discuss negative opinions, bc that is fun for a lot of people.

i have rsd so i also have a knee-jerk reaction to critique, but i also think that seeing opinions that differ from mine make me a better writer! in the right headspace, i can digest someone's negative feedback and apply others' opinions to my own work. i can understand that different people can interpret a character differently based on their lived experiences and what resonates with them. and, most importantly, none of those interpretations are necessarily right or wrong. you can like or dislike it, or personally believe that it's poor characterization, but there is no objective right or wrong. thats the thing about art - there is nothing objective about it. people inevitably interact with it in a different way. and sometimes, that way is by seeing it as a whole and picking out what you like and dislike about it.

i feel like the less confidence you have in your own work, the more likely you are to react with offense or dismay. when you rely on other people's positive feedback to want to write, negative feedback feels like the end of the world. i can say that bc i used to be like that, before i started drawing/writing for myself instead of other people. wanting positive feedback isn't bad, per se, but being unable to function without it isn't healthy or sustainable in the long run.

so, yeah. it isn't a personal attack for someone to dislike a characterization that you like - it just doesn't jive with them, and that's okay. and theyre allowed to talk about it, because negative opinions are allowed to be expressed too. if you cant handle seeing those opinions, it isnt a personal failure. it isn't your fault, but it also isnt their fault for having those opinions. they arent trying to hurt you. they just want to freely discuss their opinions, positive or negative, and i would think proshippers/profic ppl should be able to connect with that, even if they are used to being targeted by bullies. sometimes, seeing a post, even a tactically worded one, will make you feel bad, and it isnt anyone's fault. there is no ill intent. life happens. people discuss what interests them. sometimes, you won't like that, and thats fine. but you shouldn't make them out to be the bad guy for it.

and ik fandom is a lot of people's safe space where positivity trumps all, but it isnt like that for a lot of people. if you want fandom to be your protective bubble, you can restrict yourself to only those who share your opinions. but you also have the right to agree to disagree, and other people have the right not to want an echo chamber. if you treat a whole sphere of the internet like your own personal bubble, you will be sorely disappointed when it pops.

woof that was long... i really am not trying to start shit with anyone - that is the last thing i want to do 😭 but i wanted to share my opinion on this bc i am a critic at heart and that is not necessarily a bad thing

i agree with all of this!!!

"toxic positivity" is an overused term, but i think its use here is justified. i've also got rsd, and sometimes, receiving critique can feel really bad, too. my dad's a writer, and i always feel scared to show him my work bc i rlly respect him and hearing him criticize my stuff can rlly hurt LMAO

but. like. i recognize that as an issue. and i certainly don't get offended when i see people criticize a trope? i didn't make that. in fact, i find critique of tropes more helpful than anything -- they provide a perspective that i might've never considered that i can now add to my own works.

the emotions of proship discourse only amplify this -- i'm critiquing depictions of fictional rape. it doesn't matter that i'm not calling people or the fiction itself evil, it doesn't matter that my critiques come from a place of actual fiction analysis instead of a bizarre appeal to emotion -- i'm critiquing depictions of fictional rape. antis do that. i'm doing an anti thing. doesn't matter that the anti thing i'm doing doesn't have all the shit that makes the real anti thing bad.

i do think this toxic positivity is one of the main reasons antis have become such a problem recently, though. antis don't really care about the harm of proshippers, they think it's gross icky bad. but they can't just say it's gross icky bad. you can't express dislike!! that's being mean!!!!! you can ONLY express dislike for morally bad things!!!!!!!! so, they come up with moral reasons that don't actually exist.

people can dislike things. they can express that dislike without going "that's just my opinion tho!!!" a million times to avoid people going "shhh let people enjoy things". they can express that dislike without going "and that's why liking this makes you the devil".

[ganondoodle]

Not to add more fuel to the fire (I do) but seeing all your TotK rants and agreeing with every single part of them, I just remembered that as soon as the first Sages appeared on screen I immediately noticed that even their voice actors were the same as the Champions from BoTW but a bit "deeper" sounding and when I looked up they ARE.

I don't mind when voice actors make a come back for specific roles tbh but this time with how disappointed I was starting to feel about the game's story it felt super odd?? Like it did feel so much like they were reusing stuff ;;

honestly if anyone wants to rant about totk in my inbox feel free to do so, i might not always respond but its really good to hear others be similarly disappointed and maybe you are even pointing out something i havent thought about

(also its fine to not agree with everythign i say, just dont be a dick about xD)

you see ... now that you say that i remember seeing the leaks before the game came out that some of the voice actors from botw said they returned for totk and that was a topic of discussion .... which went nowhere also bc i guess they were too lazy (sorry, that word is way overused when people talk about games but ... well) to find anyone new for the few lines they say

that said it doesnt exactly help the case of ancient ancestor (that looks exactly the same as the modern people!! i cant stand that!! its my character design taste that is more annoyed than the lore nerd but its stilll ... they didnt do that either to differentiate the past thats OVER TEN THOUSAND years ago aaaaaaargh) that all say the same line only with a few words changed around or rephrased like someone badly copying your homework but trying to hide it- without telling you any new information at all that all have no personality, not even a different clothing style (its aaalllll sonau style now woooheeee) and dont even get to have faces bc they are hidden under a SONAU MASK AT ALL TIMES even when NOT FIGHTING (why are they even in their temples after rauru seals ganondorf ... no seriosuly what are they doing there, just standing around waiting for zelda to come beg them to swear yet another oath to some guy in the far future, theres no one in the bg either like idk, they could have been praying or sth- wait .... why are they still wearing the stupid mask and outfit .... raurus gone and minerus getting eaten by miasma i dont think anyone would care (i know its bc they dont want to make another model ... though removing the helmet at the very least ... no?) and then dont even get their own voice ... lol

(i didnt notice bc i played with japanese voices bc the german voice actor for gan sounded like german daruk and that was too weird for me ... i still expected him to say more than a few lines and some yells at that point .. hah ... )

[mirisss]

Pick-up lines & Library kisses

Pairing: Jock! Sunwoo x afab! nerd! Reader

Wordcount ≈ 2.1k

Warnings: very cliche, overuse of the word ‘cute’, Sunwoo sorta kissing reader with consent, flirting, I think that’s it. 

Summary: Kim Sunwoo is a campus flirt, well known for his attractiveness, his skills as a soccer player, his extroversion, and mostly for his flirtatious ways. The man can flirt with a wall and make it blush. Though the only one he wants to flirt with is Lee (Y/n), the cute girl who spends most of her time in the library reading books, and, unfortunately, doesn’t pay him any attention. 

Note: (Y/n) is Juyeon’s younger sister. All the boys are the same age, (Y/n) is a year younger. Though you can imagine her looking any way you want, if it helps imagine them being like step-siblings or something. 

Please reblog!

Sunwoo’s POV

“Great practice today boys! Keep up this energy for tomorrow and we’ll win the match!” As the coach yelled out his points for tomorrow I looked toward the bleachers, looking for a certain someone who would probably be nose-deep in a book of some kind. “Looking for your girlfriend?” Changmin jokingly said as he came up to me. I tutted, “She’s not my girlfriend, idiot,” “I heard Juyeon say that (Y/n) was gonna be in the library with Chanhee,” Eric said as he came over to the two. “Yah, don’t be so loud, it’s bad enough that pretty much all of the team knows of my crush, if Juyeon finds out, he’ll kill me,” “Dude, he already knows, I mean it’s so obvious that you’re head over heels for (Y/n),” I pushed Changmin and Eric a little as they taunted me. “SHUT UP! You idiots,” “(Y/n)!” I almost jumped a meter in the air as Juyeon called out his sister’s name. She was jogging over to him, she was facing down to the ground as she was embarrassed, she’s quite shy, how, I don’t know. “Juuu, don’t be so loud,” “Sorry sis, did you find the book you were looking for?” “No, the system said they should have it but I can’t find it anywhere, Chanhee and I looked through the entire fantasy section but couldn’t find it,” (Y/n) was pouting as she looked up at her brother, (Y/n) loved reading and she would often sit on the bleachers reading during soccer practice to wait for her brother, I loved when she did that because it gave me more time during the day to admire her beauty and also to do this: “If you wanna live out a fantasy, I’m right here,” (Y/n) looked at me as I began talking and she blushed and looked away as I ended my line with a wink. “Watch your mouth, number 19. Wouldn’t wanna be number benched tomorrow, right?” Juyeon gave me a friendly glare while threatening me. Though I knew he would never bench me as I’m the star player, I still raised my hands in the air as we all laughed. Throughout the years of knowing Juyeon and (Y/n), I’ve always felt something special for (Y/n). (Y/n) though, has probably never taken me seriously, whenever I tried to flirt with her or do anything to get closer she would always just look away and tell me to “be serious” before she would return to her books. “Can we go home now? I have to try to find my book somewhere else,” “Yeah, come on, I just have to get my bag. Wanna start walking to the car?” “Mm, see ya there,” “I’ll walk with you,” I quickly offered before she walked off. “See ya tomorrow, Sunwooooo,” Eric said in a high-pitched voice as he blinked his eyes at me, I’m so getting him back someday. 

(Y/n) and I walked in silence for a while, (Y/n) looked literally anywhere that wasn’t me. “So, what book were you looking for today?” “Um, it’s this one book, it’s quite new, so it’s popular, but the status in the library finally said it was available, however, someone must have taken it without logging in and checking it out, because Chanhee and I searched through the entire section without finding it and the librarian didn’t know where it was either,” (Y/n) began talking about the book, telling me pretty much every piece of information she knew on the book except for the name of it. She was so excited and cute. Too soon we had reached her brother’s car and this also marked the end of our conversation, if you can even call it that. “Why don’t you try looking for the book again tomorrow? I can help you during lunch and even after classes too, I have some time before the match,” “You don’t have to help me, thanks though. But I’ll just ask Ju and maybe Jacob to help me,” “Come on, Juyeon will be busy preparing for the match as the captain since Sangyeon is sick, and Cobbie is supposed to help Haknyeon with some project, so just let me help you, I’m good at finding things,” “Like what?” “Like your cuteness or your adorable smile,” “Be serious, Woo,” “I am serious, let me help you?” “Alright, thanks Sunwoo,” “See you tomorrow, cutie,” I gave her a wink and a little wave before I walked away. 

Third person POV

A few minutes later Juyeon came up to the car and we got in and drove home. “I’m sorry I can’t help you search for your book tomorrow, I just have a lot of preparations to make for the game and I’m also working with Kevin to prepare some things for the dance on Saturday, maybe we can go on Monday?” “It’s fine Ju, don’t worry about it. Sunwoo said he would help me tomorrow so hopefully, we can find it. If not, I’ll just have to wait until I find it. Oh, by the way, how’s the dance prep going? Chanhee said that they were a bit behind schedule since Younghoon caught a cold,” “Well, yeah it’s a bit behind schedule with prepping the dance hall so Sangyeon, Hyunjae, Eric, and I are gonna help them after the game tomorrow so I can’t drive you home cause we’re gonna stay until everything is fixed,” “I can help out too, the dance committee really need to get some more members, there’s so few of them,” “No, you should go home tomorrow, or you won’t have any energy for the dance. And, yeah, you’re right, the dance committee is so short-staffed, everyone loves their events but no one wants to help them,” “Mm, I’ll text Yeji and ask if she can give me a ride, it’s on the way for her anyway,” “I don’t think she can, Yeji and the other cheerleaders are doing prep of their own for the dance,” “Oh, then I guess I’ll just take the bus,” “I could ask Sunwoo to take you home, he’s not helping out with the dance prep cause I’m scared he’ll start bickering with Chanhee and ruin something,” (Y/n) looked at her brother a bit quizzically, (Y/n) was pretty confident that Sunwoo had a crush on her and if she knew, that meant Juyeon definitely knew. (Y/n) was surprised that Juyeon would still allow Sunwoo to be close to her, last time someone had a crush on her, Juyeon literally chased the guy away, with the help of his teammates. “I wouldn’t want to bother, Sunwoo, I can just get home on my own,” “He’ll gladly do it, besides I don’t want you to go home on your own that late. Here, take my phone and text him,” “Okay,” (Y/n) took Juyeon’s phone and opened it to text Sunwoo. *Hey, can you drive (Y/n) home tomorrow after the game?* *Yeah, absolutely, no problem, see ya tomorrow, cap* “He said he’ll take me home tomorrow,” “Great,” Not long after, the two siblings arrived home, ate dinner, and then headed to bed. 

Sunwoo’s POV

I swear that time was moving slower than ever this morning. My classes seemed to take forever, maybe I was just too eager to meet up with (Y/n), I don’t know but I’m certain that the clock in that lecture hall was only moving every fifth minute instead of each second. Not a second too late the lunch bell rang and I ran out of the room to begin sprinting toward the library, where I was gonna meet (Y/n). “(Y/n)! Cute shirt,” As soon as I reached her I noticed her wearing a very familiar t-shirt, it just so happened that Juyeon accidentally brought one of my t-shirts with him home one day and (Y/n) probably thought the shirt belonged to Juyeon, but nope, it’s mine. “Hi Sunwoo, thanks, it’s Juyeon’s shirt, it was cool so I took it, he didn’t seem to notice though,” I couldn’t help but smile even wider at how cute she was as she looked down at the print on the t-shirt. “You sure it’s Juyeon’s?” “I mean I took it from his wardrobe so I’m pretty sure,” “Have you ever seen him wearing it?” We walked into the library and began scanning the fantasy section for her book without her answering my question, she looked really focused so I thought she might have forgotten about the question. “Now that you mention it, no. I’ve never seen him wear it but I think I remember seeing someone else wearing it,” “Really? Who?” She looked toward me with a somewhat embarrassed look, “You,” I tried to quiet down my laugh as I nodded resulting in her blushing like crazy. “That’s right, it’s my shirt. However, I think it might be yours now, 'cause you look so cute in it,” I walked closer to her while she covered her face with her hands. “(Y/n)?” “Yeah?” “Look at me,” “No,” “I found your book,” She removed her hands from her face and looked up at me happily, “REAL-mm?!” I swooped down and gave her a peck on her lips, “Shh, we’re in a library,” (Y/n) froze, she just stood there staring at me while one of her hands lightly covered her lips. “Why?” “Why what?” “Why did you kiss me Sunwoo?” “Because I like you,” “Seriously?” “Yes, (Y/n) I’ve liked you for a long time and I haven’t been subtle about it, I’m surprised you didn’t know already. So, do you like me back?” “Mmm, I will if you can find my book for me,” “That’s easy then, considering that I did find it,” I reached over her head and took down a book, the one she had been looking for, and handed it to her. “But, I searched for hours yesterday, how could you just find it in 30 minutes??” “I had my good luck charm with me, everything is easy when I have you with me, but, since I found it, that means you like me?” She turned her back to me as she clutched the book to her chest. “Yeah, I like you,” She tried to walk away from me but I followed after her, probably smiling like a dork because I was so happy. As we stepped out of the library (Y/n) finally stopped to look back at me for a second and then she began walking again. “Wait, (Y/n), I have two very important questions to ask you,” She stopped and turned to face me once more, her face was as red as a tomato from how much she was blushing. She’s so cute. “Alright, what’s the questions?” “This isn’t one of them but do you not want to spend time with me? You seem to want to run away?” “I’m embarrassed and don’t know what to do right now, I need to find Chanhee to get advice,” “You don’t have to be embarrassed, I like you and you like me, no need to feel embarrassed. Anyway, my first question: (Y/n), would you do me the honor of going to the dance with me?” “Yes, I’d like that,” “Great, secondly: be my girlfriend?” She took a step closer to me and leaned a little closer, kissed me on the cheek, whispered ‘yes’ and then she ran away before I could react. “See ya after school, good luck on the match, bye,” She shouted as she ran. “YESSSSSS!” I shouted and did a little dance before I walked toward my next class. Lee (Y/n) is officially my girlfriend and I couldn’t be happier, let’s just hope Juyeon doesn’t kill me for dating his sister.