#the implications of that are too much to think through rn but...

[thedragonagelesbian]

WAIT OMG THERES EVEN A MOD FOR GETTING ELVEN HEADS WITH WHISPERS OF THE DIVINE

[4kozy]

her sinking sun

megan. ( i watch it die )

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pairing | megan x gn!reader

genre + wc | angst + 4.2k

tw 🔸 | no happy endings, toxic relationship, language, implications of attempted SA ( not by reader or megan ), exes to STILL exes, implied alcoholism…

an | instead of sleeping i chose to write this…�� and it was worth it cus megan is REALLY bias wrecking me rn..

syn | there’s no comfort in an ex, that’s universal, but for megan, there’s no comfort in the familiar and unfamiliar all the same. megan stopped going to parties. she stopped going to everything.

you never unblocked her number.

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Megan didn’t know what to handle first.

The most pressing matter at the moment was keeping herself busy enough to ignore the second thing. You.

You, radiant as ever, effortlessly demanded control of the of the function, all eyes on you as you swayed, lights and sounds almost hypnotized by you, like the people around here.

It was full of shit.

Her jaw clenches. 

Her grip on the plastic solo cup tightens.

Megan swirls her drink around and rolls her eyes. 

She was never the sharing type.

And it wasn’t as if this was a first-time occurrence, no.

Megan went to every single frat house, every club, every single school event, just hoping you’d be there and getting insanely jealous when she saw you with anyone else.

She knew she was supposed to be letting go; she knew that she was supposed to be moving on and finally getting somewhere, but the heartbreak was all-consuming.

It was the sort of heartbreak that haunted her every action–the sort of heartbreak that showed itself when she was brushing her teeth, and your toothbrush wasn’t there anymore.

The sort of heartbreak that showed itself when she went through her half-empty closet, or when her bed was still messy after an hour of being awake because you weren’t there to make it up again.

The sort of heartbreak that showed itself when breakfast wasn’t made in the morning, when for weeks afterward she would bring home two orders of takeout on instinct, when she would hold her pillow and pretend that she’d lose you if she didn’t.

Even when you were already gone.

It was the heartbreak that sought her out, making her legs move before her brain even caught up to her body. Making her drink until she can’t think anymore.

And here she was; foggy-brained, sad, and so incredibly angry she didn’t know what to do.

How could you be so happy when she’s so miserable? How could you be prospering alone when you were always better with her? 

Megan tips her head back and downs the rest of the second drink–a pretty nasty concoction from hell–not that that seemed to register at the moment.

All she could think about was the fact that it was like you were made for this. Like you were made to be unleashed–no attachment, and no responsibility to anyone. It was almost as if she were a failed experiment, a test to settle down, and one you’d given up when it wasn’t what you wanted anymore.

She finds herself moving to the drinks again.

Megan’s vision is blurred at the edges by the time she’s done with her fourth of the night, figuring that the rest of the evening would consist of bad decisions dunked in unmarked fluids, and desire coated in deep-seated rage.

She knows it’s a bad idea to get drunk at a party with your ex.

She just doesn’t care.

It’s not enough to brood in silence, sitting on the sidelines amongst a similar crowd, no. 

Megan secretly hopes for the liquid courage to take hold of her, get her petty and loud, with too much confidence and too few inhibitions.

Megan secretly hopes to scream at you until her throat bleeds and her lips crack. Hopes to god that you cry, maybe even try to fight her. Maybe, you’d run out, sobbing. 

Her body trembles beneath the weight of her fantasies.

It’s immature of her, dark, and completely out of character. She realizes that.

It isn’t normal; wanting to hurt you so bad that you hurt her. Wanting so desperately to elicit a reaction of any kind from that nonchalant façade of yours.

It isn’t normal. 

It’s Megan.  

It’s Megan: raw, real, and unashamed. It’s Megan at her worst, so pathetic that she came out to a place she’d know you’d be at, just to imagine throwing off that demeanor of yours.

Somewhere, anyway, at the bottom of the punch, there’s a truth. One that she wasn’t willing to admit without a tad in her system.

A truth that may have sobered her up immediately, if it weren’t for her strange determination to ignore it.

She was still in love with you, and God forbid she ever admit it.

The liquor still hadn’t kicked in by the time she hit the dance floor. 

Megan’s not dumb. She knows she’s pretty, and even better, she knows how to use it, choosing a random man to grind on, after seeing his okay with it. He’s handsome enough with the bright lights off and the drink in her system. He’s handsome to take her mind off things. 

Enough to make you jealous, perhaps.

Her eyes meet yours across the sea of warm bodies. Still, you look as gorgeous as ever, and even worse, there’s no visible reaction from you.

Megan’s soul fractures–body thrumming with panic, with want, and with everything left unsaid between you two. Etched into her being was you; in all things she did, aware or not.

All the pieces of your past, all the pieces of you that she keeps locked away, in the darkest depths of her body, all the parts of herself she’s hidden away–they all float to the surface, like a corpse.

Every secret that was kept, every misunderstanding like a shock to the heart, every touch like an apology, and every lie like a band-aid on a bullet wound.

Nothing could fix it. Not what both of you had broken. The foundation of your relationship was damaged before it had even begun, the question always being “how does it end for them,” rather than “will it?”

All the delusions shatter. Her breath hitches in her throat. Face stuck in a nervous expression. She couldn’t even bring herself to narrow her eyes at you.

Megan is always so pathetic when it comes to you. How could she even imagine putting you through any of that?

You two only lock eyes for a moment. You never stare for too long–just enough to hook anyone unlucky enough to catch a glimpse.

She’s been hooked for years.

Ever since that fateful day in her Junior year of high school.

She can remember vividly–it was a Friday afternoon. 4th period, dance.

To your credit, you weren’t bad for a beginner, being good enough to grab the attention of your shared instructor and her.

You had only taken the class for an art credit, falling in love with it over time. To Megan, however, it was her whole life. Ballet and tap at 3, dance competitions at 6 onwards, and now her junior duet for the dance recital.

It was after her run-through with Daniela that you spoke to her for the first time. “Woah… That’s amazing! When’d you start dancing?”

Megan, covered in a sheen of sweat and exhaustion, gawked at you.

She didn’t respond for a minute, gulping down the rest of her water in 4 swallows.

“Since I was 3, you?”

You smile thoughtfully. “Just started. Although I couldn’t dance like that in a lifetime.”

Megan chuckles, panting a tad. '‘s just practice. I’ve been at it for a while.”

She takes a seat on the floor to rest, and you follow, choosing to listen to her ramble on about her dance career. You know it’s not to make you feel bad, judging by the very genuine excitement on her face.

It’s a chance for her to catch her breath, and she does it with you. 

Somebody that she is quite unfamiliar with, yet getting comfortable with anyway.

Megan’s never done it before.

Sure, she’ll make small talk, habitually continuing a conversation with anyone she meets, but it’s not like they like to talk with her that long.

She’s learned that she has quite the habit of firing off at the mouth, every thought spilling out as soon as it comes to fruition. It makes people want to exit the conversation as soon as possible.

But not you.

You sit there and listen attentively, making eye contact. She can see the care, or at least a lite version of it, operating within you, with every word she speaks and every breath she takes.

“I think you’re really good,” you say after she finishes. “I think you’re incredible.”

It’s soft, a compliment so delicate that she’s afraid to respond–so she doesn’t, choosing instead to let it hang in the air, acknowledging it with a hum and a firm nod.

“Megannnn… One more time, please? We just need this move synced up!” Daniela said, albeit a bit too loudly.

“That’s me,” she smiles, grunting lightly as she stands up. “I’ll see you around?”

“Yeah,” you say. 

She doesn’t realize that you spent the final moments of class watching her.

Weeks later, you’re still finding ways to keep watching her and talk to her.

If you saw her around school, you’d walk her to class. If you saw her at lunch, you’d eat with her. If you saw her pull into the school parking lot, you’d park right next to her ( much to the dismay of its original owner ).

If you saw her struggling on assignments, you’d spend hours of your day guiding her through them: no infantilization, no complaints, and no throwing it back in her face either.

You wouldn’t label it a crush, no, more like an intense, barely-concealed interest.

And who could blame you? The way she moves is mesmerizing–movements practiced and intentional. Each one is just as 100% as the last. Not one feeling out of place.

Her disheveled appearance is proof that she takes it seriously.  

Megan’s hair is tousled with effort, despite making things look effortless. Her cheeks are pink and full with gasps of air after her third run of her duet today.

It’s a week till the recital, and you guys have moved to the stage.

She’s bathed in a sharp blue light, the kind that makes her eyes pierce, and every line of her body jumps out.

You rush up to her with vigor, grin so wide, it’s scary. “Megan, that was perfect–“

She doesn’t return your enthusiasm. “I fucked up, pretty bad,” she puts her head in her hands with disappointment. “If it weren’t for Dani sliding out of the way, I would’ve hurt her.”

You wrap your arms around her, ignoring the wetness on her skin, mixing with yours. She’s not crying, but you can feel her heaving with fatigue, burying her head into your shoulder.

You’re glad she’s taking advantage of your silent offer.

“Let’s eat?”

You and Megan stay after school, sitting in the auditorium all by yourselves, feasting on your lunch, watching Fantastic Mr. Fox without a care in the world.

She looks at you with the corner of her eye as her pinky locks with yours. You pretend not to notice.

You make a mental note to pack more.

You also make another mental note: it is a crush. It walks like one. It talks like one. It must be one.

5 days until the recital, and the group showcase was starting to fall apart under the pressure.

It was a simple mistake at first, a freshman missing her spot by an inch. Then it was a different one moving in the opposite direction. Then, it was three girls missing the final pose.

Safe to say, everyone was getting a bit annoyed and overwhelmed–none more so than Megan.

Megan, who’d, without fail, find a reason to doubt her ability.

She was a proud girl most of the time, obnoxiously eager and kind, but it’s clear the nerves are taking their toll on her.

You’ve noticed she gets in her head, like something won't allow her to be content with what most would consider stellar.

For Megan, it wasn’t enough to be ‘stellar.’ She had to excel, each performance needing to surpass the last, just for her to accept it. You wouldn’t have known why this fierce determination existed, not at the time. 

There was a lot she struggled with.  A lot of English and Math tests, bombed. A lot of parent-teacher conferences. A lot of let downs, no matter how hard she tried.

Dance was something she refused to fail.

She chooses to go through the motions again, without Daniela, who had left to go handle something.

Like clockwork, you bounce up to her when she’s done, tired but ready to talk once again. “Hey, you wanna go tak–“

“I’m fucking busy,” she interrupts, stiffly. 

You try not to let the shock show.

There’s an awkward silence in the air. Tension you choose not to call into question by retorting.

You leave her portion of food next to her bottle.

2 days until.

Megan’s been going at it for hours on end.

You sit in a chair in the audience, watching her play back the music over and over again. There’s frustration carving into her features as you watch her stumble over a slow part of the choreo for nearly 15 minutes. You haven’t talked in a while.

“Fuck! I–“ her shoulders slump.

You’d give yourself a good 6 seconds of waiting before you find yourself right next to her.

You two are back-to-back, choosing to give her just enough space so that she’s not also overstimulated with your presence as well.

It’s just you and Megan, in a deep silence, filled with all the pain, sweat, and tears she’s poured into her craft. In a silence that talks, and tugs on you, like it has a vessel of its own.

She breaks it. “I’m sorry for snapping at you the other day. It’s just…” she trails off, her voice pulled taut and thin. 

She thinks about all the times you’ve gone out of your way to show her that she meant something to you.

There’s a quiver in her body before the words shoot out of her like vomit. “I’m just being a jackass. Shouldn’t have jumped at you like that. You were only trying to help, and I–I don’t want to push you away, I know we’ve only known each other for a while but, I really do care, and I don’t want you to think you’re disposable, ‘cause you make me feel better all the time and–I… I was just frustrated, that's all. I get if you’re upset with me–I was an asshole and–“

“I’m not mad at you, silly,” you sigh, leaning your head back onto her shoulder. “I wish you had let me bear your burden with you. I care too,” you whisper, threading your fingers together.

She sniffles.

“Promise, you can rely on me next time. You don’t have to be by yourself,” you say, after a moment has passed.

“Okay.”

That’s how you are for a long time. Quiet and content with each other’s presence. At least until her stomach grumbles.

You take her out to eat with you, choosing to stop at the Zaxby’s nearby campus and watch Drag Race.

Day of the recital.

Megan’s whole attitude changed, now completely and utterly enraptured with the idea of nailing the entire showcase. 

The crowd was roaring, the whole group dance went amazingly. You were so excited, you could barely think. Until Megan took you into a tight embrace, congratulating you on how well you did.

She ignored the butterflies in her stomach. Barely regulated the urge to say “I couldn’t take my eyes off you the whole time, even while I was up there with you.” Forced herself to be okay with a squeeze instead of a more…passionate display of affection.

She settled with a “You did great out there.”

You giggled, joy overtaking your features, as you pulled back for a bit to look at her.  She’s ethereal, blue lighting coating her face once again.

She always is.

“And you’re gonna do even better,” you punctuate your sentence with a gentle press of your lips to the corner of her mouth. “Good luck–not that you’ll need it.”

Megan beams, eyes twinkling with pure pleasure. “I’ll take any kind of luck from you, Yn,” she grazes her fingers across your back, eyes fluttering between yours and the same lips you’d just ‘sort-of-actually-probably’ kissed her with.

If it weren’t for Dani whisper-yelling for her, by the way she had licked her lips and gradually closed the distance, you were sure she was going to kiss you.

You’re not sure you would’ve stopped her either.

“That’s me,” she mumbles, eyes closing with a flicker of annoyance. Megan wore her emotions like she wore her insecurities, exposed and without shame. You feel yourself swoon internally. “I’ll see you around?”

“Yeah, you will.”

You chose to sit with the spectators to watch her junior duet. Although the way you kept following Megan was more of a solo.

It doesn’t take much longer for you guys to start dating.

3 years.

That’s how long you wasted Megan’s time.

That's how long you pretended to reciprocate her love. How long you humored her yearning.

The alcohol completely takes control now, her body now a puppet to her subconscious.

Megan doesn’t even realize she’s on her way towards you, in the corner of the living room, laughing with your friends, and not her.

It makes her blood boil.

She’s on the edge. On the precipice of losing her sanity. The world starts to fall away with each step, bringing her closer to you.

She’s got tunnel vision: all she can see is you.

Still beaming as if you didn’t see her coming that way. As if you didn’t see her with someone else earlier.

“We need to talk,” Megan slurs, crossing her arms tightly.

You stare at her quizzically. “Megan,” you sigh, rubbing your temple. “You’re drunk.”

“You think I give a fuck?” she hisses, nails starting to dig into her skin. “I wanna talk to you.”

Your friends give you a look, and then her, and then you again. You take the silent okay to drag her elsewhere.

You’re standing in a dark hallway when she starts rambling.

“I just don’t get why you don’t care,” she scoffs, pointing at you. “All that time, and you just don’t care? I don’t get it.”

You roll your eyes. “That’s why you couldn’t stop glaring at me all night? That’s why you so desperately needed to speak to me?”

Megan swallows thickly. Her heart is pounding. “Don’t do that. You know it’s more than that. You know me.”

“No, I don’t. Haven’t known you for a while actually–it’s pretty new to me, the whole ‘follow-me-around’ shit. Look–Megs, you’re drunk as hell,” you groan, turning to leave. “I’ll see you around, okay? Let’s talk when you’re sober and ready for it.”

She snatches your wrist, pulls you back with a pathetic whine in her voice. “No, don’t–I did it all for you… Don’t you understand?”

You have half a mind to leave this where this is–unfinished, like everything else. But a stronger part of you, the part that can feel her yearning, the part that can tell the feelings left to linger are bubbling up, stays.

“I don’t want you to leave, ‘M sorry,” she hiccups. “I want you to listen to me again.”

“You just left me. You ghosted. You don’t get to leave me without giving me a reason this time, please.” Megan’s pleading, big, puppy eyes reel you in.

You’re at a loss for words. 

You don’t know what to say. 

So you don’t say anything.

But she does.

“3 years of my life with you? And you’ve got nothing to fucking say?” she starts crying. “I sacrificed so much for you–I still do, I–I think about you all the damn time, and you have nothing to say to me?”

You sit there ashamed and quiet. 

“I’m still so obessed with you, and it hurts me so bad. You hurt me so bad. Why would you even– knowing I… I don’t understand?! And you won’t explain shit–won’t even look me in the eyes,” she sobs, with every muscle in her body, gut wrenching up, like her face, with nothing but pain covering her features.

You don’t know what to do.

“I didn’t wanna… I didn’t want this–I wanted it to be painless–for you,” you tear up. “I’m sorry I got you caught up in it.”

Megan can feel her throat closing up. She can feel every hair on her body raise with misery, weariness, fury: every single emotion she’s felt since it happened.

“You’re not sorry. You don’t even care! You’re a coward. All you ever do is run away,” she yells, tossing your hand to the side as she storms away.

“Megs, stop I–“

She whips around, with bloodshot eyes and trembling. ‘What?’ is the unspoken word this time. 

You don’t have the guts to say anything.

When you get back to your people, the party has only kicked up in gear, music blaring like warning sirens you dismissed, and bodies packed together with a loud uneasiness.

You want to say it’s easy to forget about it. To feign blissful ignorance while you get lost in the mob of people.

They rock back and forth, slamming into you like harsh tidal waves.

You try to ignore that, too.

All you ever do is run away.

The thought isn’t cast out to sea.

It replays in your head, even when you’re attempting to brush it off. That strong part of you, the regretful, buried part, knows she’s right.

That part knows you’ve been running for a while. 

Things in your relationship were amazing–trying to be this nurturing person that you knew Megan deserved. You knew deep down it wasn’t you, but it was someone you wanted to be. 

They say, “fake it till you make it.” You made it nowhere. And it’s not like you didn’t love her–far from it, actually. Love wasn’t the proper descriptor; only something stronger would do. Worship? Too crazy–that wasn’t accurate. Devoted? That was the word.

You were devoted.

Committed to everyday being all about how you could change for Megan. 

You were selfish by nature. None of the things you were doing, let alone saying, made sense to you.  It didn’t make sense to anybody but her.

It pissed you off to no end.

All you ever do is run away.

All couples argue.

Most make up.

Megan had told you that you were acting off, and you lashed out. For once, words flung at her, piercing her with every insult and complaint.

By the time you were finished, she was standing there in tears, head down in that same way she always did when she was hurt.

She went to your shared room, expecting you to follow her quietly and slip into bed with no words like you usually did. 

When you didn’t, she tried to convince herself that you’d be on the couch.

When she heard the door slam, she didn’t bother chasing, already quite aware of what you’d done.

All you ever do is run away.

Texts and missed calls flooded your phone, all from Megan–the girl you’d abandoned just last night.

You stare at the notifications with an unreadable expression.

By the time you’d read through everything, your mind was set. 

It would be easier for both of you this way.

Her contact is blocked and deleted the next morning. ( But you still remember her number by heart. )

All you ever do is run away.

You know you’re a coward–you ran away here, too. You couldn’t take accountability for anything you did, even when it was tearing her apart. Even when it was sitting right in front of you.

There were no more chances, no more opportunities to try to fit the pieces back together. You and Megan were over.

“No… I–”  A loud, drunk, raspy voice breaks through the rave music.

That voice would never not stand out to you. Always distinguishable, always recognizable, always–Megan, slumped over on the couch with the guy from earlier all over her.

He’s touching her, dangerously close to places he shouldn’t be, right in front of everyone.

This time it doesn’t take 6 seconds to be by her side, though. You’re there instantly, sailing across the room to her aid.

You shove him backwards, hard. But you don’t think to even make sure he stays down,  only focusing on her. Still, she’s beautiful, even after all the drama tonight.

The guy grabs you, Lucas, as you later learn his name to be, invading your personal space too. “Fuck’s wrong with you?”

You don’t answer, still murmuring under your breath. You’re pissed, jaw clenched and fist tense with poorly-disguised rage. 

“Bitch, I was–“

Your fist flies into his nose.

There’s a crack.

Then there’s a silence. 

No more music, no more… anything.

“Don’t you ever, ever, touch her again,” you voice cold and bitter.

You lift Megan up and finally leave the party, for the first time in a long time, being honest with yourself. You wanted, needed, to protect her. You were always that person. The one you thought you were pretending to be for Megan. All the time, every single day.

All this life-of-the-party shit was a lie. You knew Megan was watching. You wanted Megan to see who you thought you were. Somebody that she’d already seen past.

There was no running away from it.

Just depressing how long it took you to realize. 

yn

i know you of all people would hate to hear from me but please come pick megan up.

she’s super drunk and i’m worried about her dani.

we’re here ( xxxxx )

Doesn’t take long for Daniela to show up, tire marks trailing behind her red mustang. 

“Put her in the backseat, please.” Daniela sighs, partial relief and exasperation.  

You comply, lightly lowering Megan before she grabs you, whispering into your ear. “I never stopped.”

'Loving you' is the phrase that goes unsaid.

You want to ask why she didn’t go after you that night. Want to ask why she still cares.

You don’t.

She gazes into you. You feel compelled to return it. “Neither did I,” you confess weakly.

By the time you closed the door, they were speeding off.

Megan stopped going to parties. She stopped going to everything.

You never unblocked her number.

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[chilschuck]

anon called him mickie and now i wonder how mickbell would react if his crush started calling him by his first name (since that is only for close friends in half-foot culture) and by a nickname basically. so reader starts calling him mick but sometimes slip in a mickie. and perhaps also the same sort of request for chilchuck? i love them both so much

`✦ ˑ ִ�� 𓂃⊹ anon this is SO SO CUTE of an idea and i had so much fun writing it!!! i hope it turned out okay and that you enjoy!! <333

— MICKBELL & CHILCHUCK: hcs for calling them by their first name.

꒰ warnings: ꒱ none! gn!reader.

꒰ wc: ꒱ 761

✦ thinking about this so hard rn…. god bless you anon. this was such a precious idea!!!! hope they turned out okay!! <333

— MICKBELL:

✦ The first time you called Mickbell by his first name, he just about froze on the spot. It was already obvious to anyone that he had developed an attachment to you, and now you were only making it worse.

✦ Since it’s something only close friends and companions do, when you begin calling him Mick, he gets really excited. So you think of him that way? Do you even know the implications of calling him that?? Mickbell can’t help but get a bit excited whenever you call him such.

✦ I think calling him Mickie would be the icing on the cake. This man would literally let out a sound of bewilderment when you first say it, but as soon as you stop, thinking he was objecting to it, he gets upset.

✦ This man is going to crush even harder now, be prepared. You’re giving him hope and also causing him to crave your affections even more. But of course he’s going to act like it’s silly to call him that. He’s not a kid, don’t make him feel like one! (Even if he enjoys it.)

✦ Pair it with touches of softness or endearment, and he’s got those rosy cheeks you love. Not only are you indirectly teasing him now, but he’s going to pitch a fit about it if you stop. Be prepared to shower him in praise and call him Mickie when he does something you should be proud of!

✦ If other members of the party begin to comment on it, he’s going to complain more. Especially if they try to mess with him. So what if you called him something cute like that?? Only you were allowed to do it, though. No one else!

“Hah? Where did that name come from?” Mickbell asked you when you first called him Mickie, raising a brow at your new nickname.

“Thought it was cute, and it suits you. Is that okay? If you don’t like it, I can stop.” You were as kind as ever, making him bite his tongue for a moment before grumbling out.

“‘S fine… I guess it is kinda cute…” The elation on your face at his answer made him a bit too happy.

— CHILCHUCK:

✦ Calling Chilchuck by his first name causes him to stop for a moment, this being the first time you’ve done so. He takes in the implications of that, before shaking it off and continuing what he was doing.

✦ But if you continue to do so, especially with that sweet tone and gentle demeanor, he’s going to choke on his words a bit. It’s been a while since he’s heard someone say his name like that, and coming from you, well… Let’s just say it makes his chest get really warm. (And his face.)

✦ Chil is crushing on you and is going to act the complete opposite, and in doing so pushing you away in the process. Stay by his side through it and continuously call him by his actual name, tenderly so, and he might end up melting a little.

✦ It’s obvious he has a soft spot for you, and now it’s getting even worse with the way you speak his name with that voice of yours. Why were you doing this to him?? Maybe even slip in a soft touch or two and he’s going to leave to busy himself with something before he thinks too hard about it. (That definitely sticks in his head for a while.)

✦ You begin to think he doesn’t like it, but soon he ends up softening whenever you do so. It’s like it pulls him out of his own head a bit… Now he can’t think of you calling him anything other than that.

✦ Definitely enjoys it but won’t admit it when it first begins. Now he enjoys it more than he’ll ever let on. Behind that cynical wall of his is a longing for softness like that, so you’re doing more to him than you think!

“Chil?” You spoke softly as he worked on unlocking something, tools in hand. He just about dropped it for a moment, but managed to stay focused enough to keep control.

“Hmm?” Was all he managed to reply, trying to keep his attention on the task at hand.

“You look so cool like this. Just wanted to tell you.” He could hear the awe in your voice through your words, making his head feel a little fuzzy.

Now he really was going to drop everything in his hands.

— dividers by @/cafekitsune!! <33

[that-smallinjured-bowylamb]

Dark Red.

ONMG IM SUPEER. SORRY HOLD ONNN. There was a request for male reader and I accidentally deleted it☹️☹️☹️ anyway front what my memories remember I could choose, right?? I'm pretty sure I remember Steve lacy in there!!!

Male!reader

Genre: never specified but it'll be the exact same as my other singer!reader posts!!!

Involvement: Main cast

Warnings?: cussy, crack, idk OOC bc y not, and what else is there?

Okay, so listen- Steve Lacy. Because Romance is so💕💕💕💕 as long as it's reader, I'll live /j.

You'd sigh, what to sing next? Your scrolling through the phone the headmaster gave you, it's useless. Barely. Going through the posts, you've come across people who were singing on streams, they sounded good.

Then you remembered, what if you sang as well? I mean, there's a stage in the Pop music club, why not use that?

You got up, got dressed, and suddenly, there was a sudden burst of motivation.

You walked in the hallways, searching for the club, you've come across Jade, then Floyd.

"Shrimpy!!!!" The tall boy beamed. Squeezing you with all his strength until you tapped his arm before you could tap out. Jade wanted to know what you were doing here, you've responded by going to the music club room.

"Ehhh?~ Why?~ Are ya gonna join that music-y club room? But, shrimpy! I want you to join our club too!~" Floyd pouts, Jade chuckles at his brother's antics, but you claimed you weren't there to join, you were there for something.

Sometime later you got them off your back [somehow], and ran straight into the room when you saw it.

There, was Kalim, Cater, and Lilia happily chatting away. When they heard the door open, they were pleasantly surprised to see you.

"Ohohoho!~ Who do we have here?~" Said the bat, not really a question. He approached you and you clarify that you wanted to make a request.

Did you want to sing on stage? Yes, and that surprised them.

"Whuaa!! Are you going to join the music club too???!" Kalim chirped, with the same gleaming smile and sparkled eyes, but you weren't sure of that, yet. Maybe you did, maybe you didn't.

But you were here for the music you thought of, Dark Red.

☆~~———~~☆

The stage was set up, a few students were practicing, you've been here before, done this before, and mostly, had sung before.

This was nothing new, it was your passion. You had to pour your heart out for this, you knew the song by heart.

You've invited a few of your friends to see if they'd come by to listen.

They did btw‼️‼️ they can't let you think you're performing lonely, dw bro your husbands- friends got you‼️‼️‼️

Here, they'll even grab a seat and sit down, some were even fighting for the front row, and some just sat down where it was the best and available.

Then you were there, on that stage, mic in hand, spotlight on you.

Will you ever know how much you effect these people? No? Eventually, you will.

And the music begins...

There were drumsticks on the (whatever you call those shiny gold tings), you took in a deep breath.

3..

2..

1..

Something bad is 'bout to happen to me.

Well, that's a start...

I don't know, but I feel it comin'

Might be so sad,

Might leave my nose running.

What. Prefect, [Name] what is this? The red haired housewarden thought, he was slightly concerned of the implications and what it meant.

Trey bought some snacks, he places it for everyone to eat [and you]. So imagine to his surprise when you sang that part.

I just hope she don't wanna leave me,

Your voice grows somber, sadder or desperate in a way.

Who the fuck is 'she'? - most of the cast

Don't you give me up,

Please don't give up,

Honey,

I belong, with you,

And only you, baby.

Rook said he can treat you better, leav your girl rn‼️‼️‼️

Vil is wondering who tf is that girl anyway, and why you seem so intent on keeping her even when she is about to leave you, like your afraid of being left behind.

Only you, my girl

Only you, babe.

Only you, my darling,

Only you, babe.

Guess who's jealous (hard mode).

Yes, it's all btw. Except for Kalim, Cater, and Lilia. Who were all snickering behind their instruments.

Only you, my girl,

Only you, babe.

Only you, my darling,

Only you.

What a devotion!!! Rook cried out, internally of course, he doesn't want to interrupt your song, the music in his ears so solemn, so beautifully romantic, even if the guy in the song is desperately trying to keep what's already been lost.

Something bad is 'bout to happen to me,

Why I feel this way,

I don't know, maybe.

I think of her so much,

It drives me crazy.

Ruggie looks at you with a 'damn, and it ain't me?' Look. He really is like other guys to you ☹️

I just don't want her to leave, me~

Don't you give me up,

Please don't give up.

Jade and Floyd will surely won't give you up to anyone, Azul included.

Azul is offended and smack both in the back of their heads.

Leona likes the music taste, just not the lyrics.

Ruggie is sneaking off to get some of the snacks Trey made.

Jack is listening intently, Riddle is listening to the music leisurely for the first time and enjoys hearing your voice, Trey is looking out for the snacks in case one of them goes missing, Ace and Deuce are literally fuming at the fact it wasn't about them.

Vil is looking at his, then looks back to criticize your performance, but seeing no flaws, especially when the music is designed that way, maybe you could go for other love songs?

Rook is tearing up for the sheer emotions your voice held.

Epel is carving apples of you on stage.

Idia is recording through his tablet.

Ortho is just enjoying the show, Malleus is pondering whether he should kill the mentioned 'she', Silver fell asleep, Sebek wants to yell but got his mouth taped.

Honey, I belong, with you,

And only you, baby.

Only you, my girl,

Only you, babe.

Only you, darling,

Only you, babe.

Only you, my girl,

Only you, babe.

Only you, darling,

Only you.

He wishes it was him.-Riddle, but removes the thought.

The guitar and drums play together in the silence.

What if, she's fine,

It's my mind, that's wrong?~

Yes, your mind IS wrong, he should be the one that should be in your mind.-Vil

And I just let bad thoughts,

Linger for far too long...

Okay, now Trey is really feeling bad for you, and doesn't know the reasons as to why. It's just a song, he says. Gaslighting himself to not feel bad cuz it's stupid 😭

The background chorus were Kalim, Cater, and Lilia.

What if, (if!)

She's fine (fine!),

It's my mind that's wrong?~

And I just (just!) Let the bad thoughts (thoughts!),

Linger for far too long...?~

The guitar goes solo with your voice, feeling lonely.

Don't you give me up,

Please don't give up.

Honey, I belong, with you,

And only you, baby.

(Baby!~)

Only you, my girl,

Only you, babe.

Only you, darling, only you babe.

Only you, my girl,

Only you, babe.

Only you, darling,

Only you.

The music fades.

Some of the students were sobbing because it reminded them of their lonely asses after getting dumped by their own girlfriends.

Some just sobbed, others were asleep, another one was munching on snacks, Trey came up to you and gave you your favorite tart and patted on your back for a great job,

You've made most of them cry btw.

Not whe Floyd and Jade is following your ass from now on.

Azul is probably sending them out just to keep you in check, your not depressed are you?

Riddle invited you to more tea parties and unbirthdays, he makes excuses like, "A good friend should always invite everyone, not a single friend left behind" or something like that.

Yeah, you really got them tied to you.

The End.

Do I regret deleting the ask? 100% no doubt about it, you know me bro this makes my feels hurt more than I expect it to be when it comes to being a writer💔

[uh-oh-its-bird]

Fuck ok, gather 'round it's time for another fic idea spinning off of a crumb from my last post ab time traveling team Ro into founders era:

Summary:

Fact 1; Kakashi is now 3 weeks the last living Hatake.

Fact 2; Tobirama Senju, according to dusty old scrolls Kakashi finds in his father's study, was apparently half Hatake himself.

Lonley and hurting, Kakashi grabs on to this fact with both hands and squeezes it so tight to his aching heart that his hands bleed.

Or, still processing his father's suicide, Konoha's favorite baby genius finds out he's distantly related to history's favorite baby genius and immediatly starts projecting to cope.

Digging through old journals, history books, Kakashi begins to try his own hand at the man's favorite past time; creating jutsu's. It's the both the hardest thing he's ever done and the most satisfying to date.

Ft.

1) Weirdly chill scene with Danzo (fuck that guy but hear me out) where he kinda looks at Kakashi and sees the hint of the shadow of the man who taught him. Not quite there yet, not fully, but crumbs of it. Enough to make him nostalgic, and enough to hand over an old journal that used to belong to Tobirama.

A calculated risk, he tells himself.

An unspoken challenge, both Danzo and Kakashi understand.

He wants to see how far Kakashi can go, finds himself almost eager to see how close he can come to the shadow of the man he seems so determined to chase.

(and if this side project temporarily distracts him for long enough that Orochimaru slips through his fingers, well, it's not like he knows it was this event specifically that caused that plan to fall through)

2) The fact that, both due to time and the Hatake clan's less than stellar reputation during the warring states era, Tobirama's Hatake ancestry got buried. Kakashi finding him on a dusty old family tree has ✨️political implications✨️ for Kakashi specifically. Ones he isn't all too interested in — unless it means he might be able to access things he otherwise wouldn't've.

Also just general fun surprised Pikachu faces from some people as an added bonus.

3) Kakashi becoming even more terrifying than he rightfully should be at that age !! Danzo pretty much handed him a missile and went "lmao good luck" with that journal! He should not have that! He's learning things! He is experimenting! Someone take the missile away from the baby before he learns how to make his own— oh fuck it's too late hes somehow made a nuke instead

4) Orochimaru poking Kakashi with a stick and vice versa. They are making baby genius <--> baby genius eye contact it's mildly concerning, Minato is concerned. Obito is jealous, he wishes the Snake Sannin would poke HIM with a stick

5) Kakashi bites someone. That's it that's the bullet point I just think he should get to bite someone is all.

And more !!! Im ngl I think I like Tobirama just existing in the fic as as an ever present shadow, super influential in just every single chapter but never actually present. But I won't lie if I'm giggling over the thought of Kakashi finding Edo Tensei and going ".... ok but what better way to figure out this new jutsu / seal than to ask the source directly."

Orochimaru would so help he's having too much fun with this to bother experimenting on children for Danzo. Don't talk to him rn he's having fun with corpses!! No not the corpses you asked him to have fun with, the other ones!

[magexii]

thinking abt the svsss miraculous au so heavily rn.

rambling under read more

I had been thinking abt butterfly sqh/peacock mbj but. I am a fool. Airplane with the Peacock miraculous is everything, actually. omfg. it was right in front of my eyes this whole time.

@jam13333 had a great idea abt butterfly!sqh creating akumas through his writing which IS GENIUS. but . peacock!sqh doing his writing and creating sentis through it. It just makes so much sense. in canonverse he literally created the entire world they live in, including the people. I like how much the peacock would give him the ability to shape the world around him.

binghe is definitely one of his creations still. THINK ABOUT THE IMPLICATIONS!!! omfg. I cannot get into all of my feelings about this rn.

I like moshang being partners but I cant really picture butterfly!mbj I don't think he would care enough to be a good villain LMFAO.

however. @carlosateaworm had mentioned butterfly!shen jiu and NOW THATS AN IDEA I CAN GET BEHIND!!!! sy and sj are definitely related somehow in this au too although I don't wanna say they're blood brothers who were raised together bc I like the idea of sj being one of sqh's senti's too. he would have no clue.

I realllllly like the idea of airplane being in control of so much behind the scenes, maybe even to an extent he's unaware of?

also cumplane would definitely still be frenemies as civilians. bc I cannot resist their dynamic.

sorry I don't have any drawings for this rn. its finals and I've been awake like 36 hours. but I will continue to rotate this au around in my mind forever.

[fillinforlater]

Monday of Appreciation: Part 106

Hello everyone, Smite here!

I have returned with the (not yet annual) release of MoA. When you look at the release dates of some of these stories, you might realize how fucking far behind I am. The back log is literally at 100+ fics that I still want to check out, so please excuse this time capsule lmao.

No matter how old they might be, these fics are golden, so send the writers some love!

(Update: currently sinking into IRL work but also into waaaaaay too long fics. I promise I will give it my all to finish some of them in the next to weeks, but other things have priority rn)

-1-

@ggidolsmuts: Move ft. Nana (woo!ah!)

There is a disturbing lack of Nana fics (geez, Smite, write them yourself then! - shut up, inner voice!). I have to thank ddeun once more for keeping us well fed. Nana's move(s) and shifty facial expressions (from cute to deadly) can really leave a man stunned.

I want more Nana.

-2-

@essentiallyleaf: Kinktober Day 16 ft. Choi Yujin (TW)

The Trigger Warning is there for a reason.

Unique execution on writing. This fic might not consider all the moral implications a sexual relationship between siblings might have, but not everything has to be a case study... this more a study of, I guess, let's fuck Yujin no matter the blood coursing through our veins.

I get it, ngl.

-3-

@worldsover: Completeness ft. Mashiro, Yeseo

The Mashiro/Yeseo combo is so thick, it should be banned for being too overpowered - or at least it has to be stripped from the hands of the great Levi because otherwise I have to ask for more, more, MORE of this. Hell, I can barely think about anything but their bodies wtf

-4-

@praeluxius: Red Wine ft. Karina, Natty

Speaking of insane bodies, you are all of course familiar with the meta-defining Karina but have you considered Natty? How about both? At the same time??? Thank you and what in the fuck, Prael, for a very intoxicating threesome.

-5-

@syeollock: Fallen Angel ft. Hyewon

Yo, I know this fic! I'm very glad @syeollock was able to kick of their writing career with this it. I feel honored that I was able to help, but they were the one who came up with the idea and executed it very well. It's a pleasure to still see so much IZ*ONE content.

-6-

@birchleavesdawn: Breakfast in Bed ft. Ireh (Purple Kiss)

Very simple, though it is not simple to get that many notes with a very nugu idol. I gotta give my props, I understand were it is coming from and I'm really craving some Ireh for desserts.

-7-

@tothosewhoyearnforit: Stress Relief ft. Yeji

Relatable. The stress, I mean. I've never been a fan of leather outfits, I just find most others better, but holy fuck, the boots, the slut drop, the overall style... this Yeji was something else.

[oh-no-its-bird]

*wiggles seductively* hi birb, what are ur thoughts on the tailed beasts + jinchuriki

Woah Oni how did u get in my asks box

UMMM TAILED BEASTS AND THEIR JINCHIRUKI OK LETS SEE

I've had (and posted about) a few scattered thoughts ab both the tailed beast and their jinchuriki before, so let's see what I remember off the top of my head

I think Utakata is contender for my favorite Jinchiruki— we don't see much of him but what we do intrigues me. I'm a sucker for a man in slutty, slutty robes and his bubble ability is both interesting and cute to me. I wish there was more content for him

Other than him tho, Gaara is ofc, fucking amazing as a character. I think his entire situation is a great example of the lengths people will go for power, and how willing some parents are to destroy their own children in the hopes of power.

Its a theme that fits in very interestingly specifically in the earlier chapters of naruto, when we are seeing the shinobi world from the shiny eyes of children, who think the whole thing is "cool" and treat the many tiny tragedies and traumas of the adults around them as much more lighthearted than they could be read as. Idk, it's fun to think about

I know we all joke about how "oh its stupid of people to have mistreated the jinchuriki, they're literally walking nukes just be nice to them omg ur signing ur own death warrant rn" but it's easy to see in text why people are so scared of them— especially civilians

They're walking nukes! They have demons in them! The propoganda machine works overtime to make people fear jinchuriki, both on purpose (other villages fear mongering) and just due to natural cultural beliefs (literal demons in rural Japan. The fear writes itself.)

I do think there's an interesting middleground there of like. A jinchuriki being treated with kindness literally only out of fear. Which is still better than blatant abuse, but also still fun to think of the ramifications of being raised like that

I think it's also interesting to see the difference of how many jinchuriki were treated in their villages— some for sure got it worse than others, even if there was a solid through line between all of them of different degrees of "people are scared of me and no one fucking likes me"

I do wish we'd gotten more of the jinchuriki's all together, I love fics where they get to come interact together as some sort of messy family.

Similarly, I love the biiju as just. The world's most dysfunctional family. They are so fun as characters, most of them just want to be left the fuck alone but have no issues with flattening humans if they come too close and I love this for them

I think the relationship between biiju and their jinchuriki are so fun, they are both victims here, they are both justified in hating eachother. But if they are able to overcome that hate and get along— its just really interesting to see. That takes some real strength, on both their parts.

A human trusting a demon, a demon trusting a human. Its desperation that got them there. Desperation and exhaustion and a wish to be free.

The tragedy really writes itself

I've read several fics that take an angle of "since the biiju were sealed, the natural balances of the world have been thrown out of wack" where they'll have things like nature getting more violent or common yokai having dissapeared in the years following the biiju's sealing

I think that's super, super fun and I personally like to use the hc of "yeah no, yokai were super common like ~60 years ago but then Hashirama sealed the Biiju and they all just kinda of dissapeared in the following years. Almost like they sensed the absence of the big spirits and went into hiding in response"

Super fun! Instantly adds several fascinating implications about the naruto world and how it works and how the biiju interact with it by just existing

I also love, love, LOVE to think about the initial reactions to the biiju being sealed back in early konoha. Bc like. Ok so you have this culture, this Japanese culture, that largely revolves around the spirits and respecting them in the hopes that they will leave you be. Generations of people raised with the rules of "leave yokai the fuck alone"

And then you go and have your leader seal one of THE biggest yokai inside of his wife.

The bad karma is off the fucking charts. I refuse to believe everyone just nodded and went "wow what a great idea! Nothing bad could possibly come from this!"

No, no, there were for sure different camps of people who were different levels of horrified / disgusted / terrified / etc.

I think maybe the younger, less superstitious, more ambitious and power trippy people might have been some flavor of pleased, while the older more superstitious people just. "Oh god what have you DONE what have you LET INTO OUR HOMES!!??!"

I imagine that in the following year, Hashirama had to work overtime in appeasing people for fear as whispers of "this village was a bad idea, look now we've gone and angered the kyuubi. He will break free and kill us all and we'll deserve it for being such fools as to try and keep him sealed" grew louder

I remember someone told me that in the manga, we got a couple panels of where it looked like the uchiha had made a shrine to the fox after Kurama was sealed? Which just. Fascinates me. Because it shows that there was some sort of effort made to presumably appease him, which, again, oh man the implications

And then ofc Hashirama goes and gives all the other villages the keys to getting their own Biiju. And people start to fucking hunt them.

And then all the yokai are dissapearing and the bad omens are only getting worse and—

Well, you get the picture.

Anyways, yeah. Early Konoha and general shinobi world reactions to the biiju being sealed fascinate and delight me in equal measure. There's so much room there for practically anything ur gay little heart desires

Oh on that topic, I think it's also interesting to think ab like. Maybe at first, the jinchuriki were genuinley revered. Again, like, culturally, most people are gonna see (especially big) spirits and start trying to appease it so it leaves them the fuck alone, right?

So just. Thinking ab how at first, the jinchuriki were treated with largely (terrified) respect. Especially when they were no doubt first put into already respected and powerful people.

And then, yk, time passes.

People get more used to the idea of jinchuriki as more "honored demon containers" and more "demons themselves."

Jinchuriki are placed into children. Jinchuriki are used in the war effort. They're given names. Faces to fear. People who have killed loved ones— put into bingo books besides other shinobi, just another man to fear.

Theyre... human.

(Theyre hated.)

Nost yokai aren't around anymore, and while many still give their respects at shrines and crossroads, its not with the same urgency and genuine belief as before. Many of the new generation pay no respects at all, and the lack of consequence from the still gone yokai does nothing to convince them to start

It becomes easier and easier to let the "terror" to win over "reverence."

Anyways just. The changing of attitude towards jinchuriki as they become more normalized as just another person over the years. Also something that's fun to think about

Anyways that's what I got, thanks for stopping by my ask box Oni, love u

[z-eel]

SPEAKING OF POLY MARAUDERS

I know you had posted about their confessions- but I’d love to know more about how you think they all came together. Specifically like in the no voldemort world because we hate him of course.

I love love love Peter and I’m so happy you actually include him btw

What do you think about Peter and Remus being the first to hook up with each other because James and Sirius are busy pretending they don’t have a thing for their fellow marauders?

i only work in a no voldemort au (i hate dealing with racist implications of that entire plot point)

and to me, poly marauders have always included Peter. it's weird that people don't include him (i adore Peter too.)

anyways back to the ask...

Remus and Peter don't stop kissing after their first time. they'll be in the library studying and Peter biting his lips as he's writing something down, and Remus is just staring because he looks so cute like that. and he pulls Peter up from the chair without explanation and drags him to a corner where he leans close and tells him that he's going to teach Peter how to kiss someone properly. and Peter's just staring up at him, confused because he didn't think their kiss was bad, but if anyone was going to know better, it would be moony. and so Remus 'teaches' Peter how to kiss. and Peter actually gets so much better Remus has to constantly pull himself away because he's going to end up doing more than just kiss Peter, and it was already hard enough.

and much like their first kiss, Peter confesses he's never slept with someone (and of course Remus know he's pulling Peter away at every opportunity to kiss him senseless and he making sure no tries to ask him out) and like there first time Remus offer himself. and Remus makes sure it all goes well, giving Sirius and James a prank to work on and making sure that no one will bother him after he goes to his dorm room.

Remus makes sure to teach Peter everything he knows and they even try thing Remus has only heard about. and their first time is soft and full of quiet giggles from Peter and huffs of amusement from Remus. and the cuddle all night with Remus running this finger through Peter's hair while he sleeps.

the next morning, they wake up early, Peter shy and blushing while Remus just remains sitting on the bed, smiling at him because he wants more of this. more of Peter is his bed, more giggles from him, more make out sessions that go past kissing. and so that morning before James and Sirius walk in Remus ask if Peter would consider dating him because he really like Peter and he doesn't want anything they have to end.

and Peter just walks up to him and holds on to his shoulder as he give him a soft kiss and doesn't pull to far from him and tell him he also really likes this and he was getting nervous thinking he was going to be the one who's going to ask Remus.

Remus pulls him down for a hungry kiss before they have to break away when they hear James and Sirius bickering by the door.

moontail keeps what they have a secret for the sake of their friendship with Sirius and James but no one really suspect anything because they always do it in the library or late at night behind the curtains.

imma have to do the other pair ups some other time because rn i have to get ready for work, and this went on longer than i thought it would.

expect more poly marauders!!!

[box953]

your tags on your last ask have intrigued me, what are some Heiffel/Loveberg parallels??? I'd love to hear them

I've been a Heiffel truther since I first listened to w359 (the stripping scene really sold me on it too) but I've only started to get into Loveberg in the last couple days, so I haven't had the time to consider parallels between them yet

the tldr is that i think the personality similarities between Lovelace and Eiffel make for an interesting experience for Hilbert. Lovelace dies on the old mission and oh sad but it had to happen but then he meets his next crew and Eiffel reminds him just enough about Lovelace to make him squirm.

HOWEVER. I never get prompted to talk about my loveberg agenda or my loveberg to heiffel pipeline so im going to use this as an opportunity to go insane for a few paragraphs. Ok? Ok.

so maybe parallels isnt the best wording for it bc like . It is definitely kind of about the dynamic parallels i think they base-level play out very similarly due to Lovelace and Eiffel being similar in the ways they are. But also i think it’s just about. The coexistence of both relationships in the same timeline. The way they could bleed into each other.

so like. The personality parallels between Lovelace and Eiffel are pretty obvious in the beginning, right? When Eiffel and Minkowski first find her voice recordings and she sounds exactly like someone Eiffel would get along with and exactly like someone Minkowski would despise working with. You see that when Lovelace shows up, too, but she’s also an authority figure and also at the moment going through sooo much fucking trauma right now that it kind of puts a damper on that part of her personality, i feel. She’s a little busy surviving rn.

that is to say, i feel like a pre-canon Captain Lovelace would have been the most like Eiffel, personality wise. Which i think is important.

I enjoy Hilbert’s relationships with characters without any romance behind them. I think they stand really well as their own strange, convoluted narratives. However, when I am applying a lense of potential romance, a lot of the appeal to me comes from Hilbert fighting a losing battle against himself and the decades he’s spent devaluing human life. The way he talks about his relationship with the things he’s done and the people he hurts fascinates me. How conscious he is that he’s hurt people. Something something ‘Do not think this was easy for me. None of it was easy. None of it was nice.’ Some sort of implication that he still feels, he just doesn’t acknowledge it. There’s no space for that. Log it, move on, don’t dwell on it.

With Lovelace, I think it was just accidental. I think he doesn’t realize that he cares about her, values her, until it’s too late and he’s tripped and fell and gotten himself into a weird situationship with his commanding officer. The difference in their first meeting as shown in the final episode vs their relationship shown in Change of Mind is just so… ugh. He’s a part of her routine. He meets her at her room when she wakes up to update her when he was actively avoiding interacting with her during their first meetings. Something happened there. They fall into a routine, a dynamic, he respects her, she goes to him for advice, or to rant about her idiot subordinates. I’m just ranting about why i like them in this era atp ANYWAYS.

The point is. He stumbles into accidentally giving a fuck but then, obviously, everything that happens, happens. He respects her but only enough to think she’d be smart enough to see his perspective, never enough to change his mind on his life’s work.

and then the Alexander Hilbert grieving processes (and lack thereof) commences. He acknowledges that the loss of Isabel Lovelace is objectively unfortunate but that’s as far as it goes, as far as it’s ever gone for anyone since he was a child.

and then he meets his next crew, on the same ship he had just been on for years, and there’s Eiffel. And he’s… not Lovelace, obviously. He’s not even got a modicum of the competence she did, even if they’re both equally as obnoxious. But I still think there’s a level of that parallel between the two of them that kind of haunts him.

And it’s like, whatever, it doesn’t matter, he’s a better man than this. He’s killed before, experimented before, and he’s going to do it again. But what are the consequences of never grieving? What happens when you accidentally have some semblance of feelings for your old captain and then she dies and you just kind of go okay. And then try your best to move onto the next task.

i think it leaves him vulnerable to just having it happen all over again is what I’m saying. I think he has to monitor Eiffel and constantly keep an eye on him to observe the decima project in action and despite everything he’s doing to distance himself from this team (everything about his whole act in season 1. You know. The playing the mad scientist bit up to eleven.) he develops some kind of infatuation for Eiffel. Study your lab rat for too long you accidentally become bisexual. Whatever.

I just. Grips the sides of my chair. I just think it’s neat. I just find them interesting. I dont. Care. (I’m lying.)

[mushmetre]

Thinking too hard about Transformers: Anatomy

The MTMTE/LL universe probably has my favourite canon take on Cybertronian anatomy, but the one thing that kind of bugs me is the existence of “nervecircuits.”

It seems to exist to make the characters feel the bodily pain they go through, but for transformers/robot characters in general, I don’t think it makes much sense for their species to have this, or is necessary.

Don’t get me wrong, the body horror in the series is phenomenal. But I think it all still works fine without the implication that Cybertronians have robo-nerves? Like the decapitated Ratchet scene was so effective because he woke up and couldn’t feel anything wrong with his body and the horror hits like a truck when it’s revealed what Pharma did to him.

(From MTMTE issue #18)

(From MTMTE issue #19)

Like I said before, I don’t really understand this when I think about it. The implications I read from these panels are:

1. They have “nervecircuitry” - this likely is circuitry that lines the bodies of Cybertronians that allow them to feel pain and other sensations

2. They have the ability to re-route nervecircuits somewhere else in their frame

3. From the decapitated Ratchet scene, there is some way to block all nervecircuitry. Or perhaps they cannot “feel” anything when they are offline/in stasis?

Why wouldn’t they constantly have their nervecircuits turned off when they’re war machines and constantly being torn apart and wrecked? And okay, I’ll turn to human anatomy for the answer: pain allows us to understand that something is wrong with our body and lets us know where and how to fix it. So it’s probably the same with Cybertronians. Maybe they turn their nervecircuits off for battle (though if I remember correctly, there are cases where characters are expressing pain during battle, and also why would Ambulon even have his on in this scene?) and then after battle when they are being treated by the medic, they are turned back on to diagnose what is wrong.

But… there are in-universe ways to diagnose what is wrong that work much better in my opinion? They are super robots. I’m sure they are advanced enough to get an error message flashed on their optics when a piston breaks or whatever (I think we’ve seen that in canon as well… I cannot think of an example rn though). And we constantly see bots hooked up to medical gizmos in medbays or scanned with doohickies by medics… we have also seen bots blown up and offline that medics are able to fix back up without them expressing their pain. If they had physical lines/circuitry throughout their frames dedicated to feeling, they would constantly be shredded to bits and impractical.

I do like the canon choice of Cybertronian’s sparks being able to feel touch. This to me makes more sense than them having pain receptors, and also scratches the itch of still allowing them to be physically intimate with each other that we all crave (I love the concept of spark-merging as a form of sex/intimateness/tender vulnerability).

(From MTMTE issue #19)

A lot of fics I’ve read use the idea that Cybertronians can feel touch, and I situate that within what I call “sticky universe anatomy.” The sticky universe encompasses any Transformers fan work that subscribes to elements from sticky sexual interfacing headcanons. Fanfics may not include any sexual content, but they might use anatomy headcanons that come from wanting Transformers to have sex. There isn’t anything wrong with that (I for one like to partake in this literature from time to time) but it relies on giving them human attributes and human bodily functions which for me personally, provides a disconnect that these are alien robots, and I lie awake at night overthinking Cybertronian anatomy (Ok but seriously, someone explain to me the conundrum of Cybertronian mouth anatomy). I have read a few fics that justify sticky sexual anatomy in great detail, but none that have justified the idea of nervecircuits.

I think physical contact is inherently something a lot of people crave in their romance and so it is inserted into their fics, which is sweet. But I also love to read unique headcanons or anatomy quirks people come up with that explore the innate mechanical-ness of Cybertronians.

I would love to hear someone else’s take on this; thoughts, feelings, the works. What do you prefer? I’m also a newer Transformers fan, so maybe J. R. has said something about this or acknowledged it, or there’s a headcanon/explanation adopted by the fandom that I’ve missed. Has there been any other examples of this in official Transformers media? I cannot remember 🤔

[puppym3]

heartstrings and lullabies chap 2

soft!seungmin x afab!reader

chap 3!

wc: 4.3

warnings: lil awkward again, intimate kissing scenes, "practice kissing", alcohol consumption (not a ton), a lil more angsty, a lot of kissing, seungmin is confused and gets shy, sexual tension, dramatic exits to the bathroom, the chapter ends at a weird place (sry)

a/n: thank you guys for reading! i'm writing chap 3 rn! if you guys want to leave suggestions or other fic ideas in my inbox please do! i'm accepting of everything. chap 3 should be out by the end of thurs or friday!

MINORS DNI!

---

The night after, I found myself creeping to the end of the hall for the first time. The house's silence amplified every sound, the soft creak of the floorboards beneath my feet, the distant hum of the AC, and the quiet sounds of the bugs outside.

I paused in front of the door, adjusting the bottom of my dress and taking a deep breath before raising my hand to knock. Before I could, the door opened slightly, revealing Seungmin's curious eyes.

"Hey," he greeted, his eyes quickly jumping nervously up and down, then stepping back hesitantly to let me in. "I wasn't sure if you'd come."

"Yeah, well, here I am," I replied, a nervous laugh escaping my lips as I crossed the threshold. The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of a lamp casting gentle shadows across the walls. It was cozy, with bookshelves lining one side and a small desk cluttered with papers and knick-knacks.

Seungmin motioned to a small couch against the far wall. "Make yourself comfortable. I’ll get us something to drink."

I sat down, trying to calm the fluttering in my chest. There was something comforting about being in Seungmin's space, surrounded by the things that made up his world. I picked up a book from the coffee table, flipping through its pages absentmindedly until Seungmin returned with a bottle of wine and two glasses.

"Is this fine? I apologize, I don’t drink much." He said, setting the glasses down on the table beside me.

I nodded, a smile tugging at my lips. "Why do you have a whole bottle in your room if you don’t drink much?" I teased, the words lightening the air between us.

Seungmin chuckled softly, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. "It was a gift," he admitted, pouring us each a glass with a practiced hand. "Thought I might drink with a friend someday."

I accepted the glass he offered, the rich scent of red wine filling the air between us. I reluctantly took a sip, humming at the warmth it brought to my throat.

Before I knew it, I had downed half the glass while Seungmin was only two sips in. I definitely emotionally and physically started to relax, my body resting against the couch and my mind calmer than when I walked in.

 “Do you usually drink with friends like this?” I ask, tracing his face with my eyes. “This is my first time.” He admits to me, offering me a light smile. 

Seungmin's smile softened as he settled on the couch beside me, a comfortable distance away. "First times are always memorable," he mused, swirling the wine in his glass.

I felt a warmth spreading through me that had little to do with the wine. “I suppose they are,” I replied, meeting his gaze briefly before looking down at my glass, suddenly shy. “Glad we shared this first time…” I mumbled, my tongue loosened by the wine.

“Me too. Hopefully, we could share more,” he suggested, his soft eyes fixed on me. My mind wandered to different places, my face flushed from both the wine and the implications of his words.

“Uh huh?” I said suggestively, encouraging his flirty behavior, hoping it wasn’t just wishful thinking.

When he didn’t continue but instead looked at me with daring eyes, I felt a sudden need to continue the conversation. “I’ve never kissed anyone,” I added, my voice trailing off uncertainly. A charged silence filled the space between us, thick with unspoken desires and possibilities.

I sat back, letting the warmth of the wine and Seungmin's presence envelop me. The atmosphere felt charged with a mix of anticipation and nervous energy. Seungmin's gaze held mine, his eyes reflecting a depth of emotion that I couldn’t read.

"I've… never kissed anyone," I repeated, feeling a flutter of vulnerability and curiosity about where this evening might lead. Seungmin's expression softened, his demeanor gentle yet tinged with a quiet intensity.

"Never?" he asked softly, leaning slightly closer. His voice carried a hint of surprise, tempered with a warmth that made my heart race a little faster.

I shook my head, my cheeks flushing despite the alcohol's calming effect. "No, never,"

Seungmin's eyes searched mine, the intensity of his gaze making my pulse quicken. He set his glass down carefully, leaning back slightly but not breaking eye contact.

"That's… surprising," he murmured, his voice low and thoughtful. "You're so…"

"So what?" I prompted, my own voice barely above a whisper. The distance between us felt almost tangible, like a string pulled taut, ready to snap.

"Confident," he finished, his eyes flickering with admiration. "It's hard to believe."

I smiled, a small, shy smile that I couldn't quite suppress. "Maybe I'm just good at hiding it," I replied, taking another sip of wine for courage.

Seungmin's had a tender look in his eyes. "You don't have to hide anything with me," he said quietly, his words a gentle promise that wrapped around my heart.

For a moment, neither of us spoke. The silence was heavy, but not uncomfortable, filled with the weight of everything we weren't saying. My mind raced with thoughts and possibilities, each one making my heart beat a little faster.

"I wonder what it's like," I said finally, my voice barely above a whisper. "Kissing someone, I mean."

Seungmin's gaze darkened slightly, a flicker of something unreadable passing through his eyes. He leaned forward just a bit, closing the small distance between us. "It's… different for everyone," he said softly. "But it's…"

He trailed off, his eyes dropping to my lips for a brief moment. The air between us felt charged, every inch of space humming.

"How would you imagine it?" he asked, his voice a whisper that sent shivers down my spine.

I swallowed hard, my mind racing. "I… don't know," I admitted, my voice trembling slightly. "I guess… I imagine it being soft, and… and warm. Something that makes you feel… connected."

Seungmin's expression looked gentle, running his hand through his hair as if were nervous. "That sounds… about right," he said softly, his voice barely audible.

Seungmin's hand moved slightly, as if he wanted to reach out but hesitated. "I… don't want to rush anything," he said softly, his eyes locking onto mine. "But if you ever want to… I mean, if you ever want to know what it's like…"

He trailed off, leaving the offer hanging in the air between us, a tantalizing promise of something more. My heart pounded in my chest, the wine and the warmth of his presence making my head spin slightly.

"I think… I think I'd like that," I whispered, my voice barely audible.

Seungmin's breath hitched slightly at my words, and I could see a mix of excitement and nervousness flicker across his face. He swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing, and took a deep breath.

"Okay," he said softly, his voice steadying. "We can take it slow."

He moved a little closer, his knee brushing against mine. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver through me, and I felt my heart pounding in my chest. Seungmin's hand hovered between us for a moment before he gently cupped my cheek, his fingers warm and reassuring.

"Just… close your eyes," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

I nodded, my breath catching in my throat, and let my eyelids flutter shut. The room seemed to grow quieter, the only sound the soft, rhythmic beating of our hearts. I felt Seungmin's thumb brush gently over my cheek, a tender, grounding touch.

"Okay," he whispered again, and I felt his breath ghosting across my lips.

The first contact was feather-light, a mere brush of his lips against mine. It was soft and tentative, a question rather than a demand. My breath hitched, and I felt a thrill of warmth spread through me, pooling in my chest. Seungmin's lips pressed a little more firmly against mine, the kiss still gentle but filled with burgeoning confidence.

His other hand found its way to my waist, steadying me as he kissed me with a slow, deliberate tenderness. I felt a warmth spreading through my body, a pleasant, tingling sensation that seemed to radiate from our point of contact. I could feel his heartbeat through the closeness, its rhythm steady and comforting.

I responded tentatively, my lips moving against his with a mixture of curiosity and trepidation. Each movement was slow and exploratory, a gentle dance as we found our rhythm together. Seungmin's hand on my cheek shifted slightly, his fingers threading into my hair, cradling my head with a reassuring touch.

The kiss deepened, becoming a little more assured as we grew comfortable with each other. There was no rush, no urgency—just a gentle exploration of this new and intimate connection. I felt a sense of closeness, a warmth that spread through me, wrapping me in a cocoon of safety and affection.

Seungmin pulled back slightly, just enough to rest his forehead against mine. We were both breathing a little more heavily, our breaths mingling in the small space between us. His eyes fluttered open, and I found myself staring into their warm, brown depths.

I’m a little tipsy but well aware of everything happening around me, because it’s like all of my senses at this time are going to be ingrained in my memory forever. The feeling of his soft lips touching mine, the smell of the alcohol and a slight hint of his shampoo, and the sound of our soft breathing together. 

I can feel the burn on my face from the nervousness in my body that arises again when I look into his eyes again. I look at his lips again where he subtly licked his bottom lip as if to taste the chapstick I transferred to him. 

“Was that… okay? Or did you need another example?” he asked me, his cheeks a little pink as if he was more nervous to ask that than it was to kiss me.

The word “example” rang in my head as a reminder. Did I just let him kiss me as an example when he really has no feelings for me? But looking at his flushed puppy face again, it didn’t matter to me. When he’s looking so shy suddenly infront of me as if the kiss did something for him too, it threw away all of the rational thoughts I possibly could’ve had.

"It was..." I began softly, my voice betraying a mix of shyness and a growing sense of boldness. "I think... I think I'd like another example."

A flicker of surprise crossed Seungmin's face, quickly replaced by a slow, teasing smile. He leaned in again, his hand gently cradling my cheek as his lips met mine once more. This time, there was a subtle urgency, a mutual understanding that this kiss was no longer just an experiment, it was a shared exploration of desire and connection.

His lips moved against mine with a newfound confidence, his touch gentle yet firm, igniting a spark that sent tingles down my spine. I responded eagerly, my fingers instinctively tangling in his hair as I deepened the kiss, seeking more of the warmth and intimacy that seemed to envelop us both.

Time seemed to blur as we kissed, each moment stretching out deliciously, filled with unspoken promises and a growing sense of closeness. The weight of his body against mine, the soft brush of his fingers against my skin, it all felt surreal yet undeniably real, grounding me in the present moment.

My neck was getting tired from the posture I was in to reciprocate the kiss, so I leaned closer to him, crawling into a more comfortable position on the edge of his lap. His hands sit on my waist and squeeze lightly as if giving me a warning.

I felt his hand move to the small of my back, cupping me firmly as he pulled us closer together. His breath hitched as I shifted my weight, my lips moving against his with renewed intensity. The scent of his shampoo filled my lungs, and I felt my heart racing with every touch.

He pulled me closer still, until our bodies were fully engaged. My hands came up to cup his neck, the muscles beneath his skin firm and toned. As we kissed, there was a softness to his lips, a hint of vulnerability that I found charming and endearing.

But as the kiss deepened, that softness gave way to a hunger that I felt all the way to my core.

Seungmin’s hands tightened slightly on my waist, and just as the kiss seemed to deepen further, he pulled back. His breath was heavy, mirroring my own. He looked dazed for a moment before he gently pulled away, as if he had a switch flipped in his head.

“I didn’t want to overwhelm you,” he whispered, his voice husky with emotion. “I… I don’t want to rush anything.”

From the way his expression looked, he looked like the one that was overwhelmed, his bottom lip caught between his teeth and it looked like he was short-circuiting, his hair tussled and looked out of breath. 

I wonder what I looked like in comparison to him, but before I could think of anything to say in return, he got up and excused himself to the bathroom.

As I watched Seungmin walk away, his shoulders tense and his steps hurried, I couldn’t help but feel a rush of mixed emotions. Part of me wanted to follow him, to reassure him that I wasn’t overwhelmed, that I wanted this as much as he did. But another part of me was grateful for the momentary respite, a chance to gather my thoughts and steady my racing heart.

I took a deep breath, trying to calm the whirlwind of feelings swirling inside me. Running a hand through my hair, I felt the slight dampness from the sweat that had formed during our kiss. The room seemed quieter now, the silence amplifying the sound of my own heartbeat.

Emotions stirred not just in my heart but in my body too. My legs were still tingling, a reminder of the electricity that had passed between us. I squeezed them together, trying to ground myself amid the overwhelming sensations.

Seungmin had been gone for what felt like an eternity, though it was probably only a few minutes. I wondered what he was thinking, if he was as confused as I was. The uncertainty gnawed at me, but I pushed it aside, trying not to dwell on the memory of his touch, the way his lips had felt against mine.

When Seungmin finally returned, he looked more composed, though a hint of nervousness lingered in his eyes. He paused in the doorway, his gaze locking onto mine, and for a moment, we just stared at each other, the weight of our unspoken words hanging heavy in the air.

“I’m sorry,” he said finally, his voice soft but steady. “I didn’t mean to leave like that. I just… needed a moment.”

I nodded, my heart softening at his vulnerability. “It’s okay,” I replied, my voice equally soft. “I needed a moment too.”

He moved closer, sitting down next to me once again. There was a brief, awkward silence before he spoke again. “I’m sorry, I must have seemed uncertain,” he began, his eyes searching mine as he struggled to find the right words.

“You should go get some sleep,” he continued, his voice barely audible, nervously rubbing his arm. “We should talk tomorrow.”

“But…” I started to protest, my voice catching in my throat. “I’m not drunk, I promise,” I insisted, hoping to reassure him.

Seungmin hesitated, his expression conflicted. "I know," he murmured, his voice gentle yet firm. "But it's late, and… I don't want us to do something we might regret."

Regret. The word hung between us, heavy with unspoken implications. I glanced down, suddenly feeling self-conscious. "I understand," I replied quietly, though part of me longed for him to ask me to stay, to talk more, to touch more.

Seungmin sighed, running a hand through his hair. "You should go," he said reluctantly, though he didn’t seem entirely convinced himself. "We'll… we'll talk tomorrow, okay?"

I nodded, unable to meet his gaze as I turned towards the door. "Okay," I echoed softly, my voice barely carrying across the room.

Managing a small, fragile smile, I attempted to convey reassurance despite my own swirling emotions. "Goodnight."

Seungmin nodded, a flicker of relief crossing his features. "Goodnight," he murmured, and then I was gone, leaving him alone with the echoes of our shared moments and the unanswered questions lingering in the air.

I sat in my room for a long time, the silence heavy around me. The weight of everything that had transpired pressed upon me, and I couldn't help but replay each moment, searching for clarity amidst the emotional turmoil.

Sadness, confusion, happiness, desire—all swirled together, leaving me exhausted yet unable to find rest. I changed into comfortable clothes and slipped beneath the covers, but sleep remained elusive. My mind raced with thoughts of Seungmin, of his touch, his gaze, his words.

Morning found me bleary-eyed and restless. I rolled over, reaching for my phone to check the time. It was early, but I knew sleep wouldn't come easily now.

The events of last night replayed with startling clarity. I wondered what Seungmin was thinking now, if he regretted our kisses, if he worried about his dad finding out. The latter thought brought a pang of anxiety.

Unable to shake him from my mind, I decided to send a message:

Me: Hey, are you awake?

Anxious anticipation filled me as I waited for a response, minutes stretching out like eternity until finally, my phone buzzed with his reply:

Seungmin: Yeah. Why are you up? Everything okay?

Me: I want to talk to you. Can I call?

Seungmin: Call? I’m just a few rooms down.

Me: I don’t think I can talk to you in person right now.

The bubbles on my screen danced as if he was pondering his reply.

Seungmin: Okay. We can call.

Taking a deep breath to steady my nerves, I dialed his number. Each ring felt like an eternity until finally, Seungmin's voice, groggy with sleep yet attentive, greeted me.

“Hey, before you speak, can I just say what I want to say?” I asked, needing to express what was in my heart.

"Ok," Seungmin replied softly, his voice quiet yet focused.

Gathering my thoughts, I began, my voice steady despite the nervous flutter in my stomach. "Last night… I want you to know it wasn’t just the wine or a passing moment. I… I wanted to kiss you."

Once I started, the words spilled out, unstoppable. “I liked it, a lot. And I know you said it was just for me to experience a kiss and it was in the moment, but I really liked it.” Pausing, I felt my heart race, urging him to hear me out before responding.

I heard him exhale on the other end of the line, a thoughtful pause lingering before he spoke.

Seungmin's response was measured, his voice carrying a mix of emotions I couldn't quite decipher over the phone.

"I... appreciate you saying that," he began slowly, his tone thoughtful. "Last night... I didn't mean to lead you on or make you feel confused."

His words sparked a twinge of uncertainty in me. Had I misread his intentions? Was he trying to gently let me down?

"But," he continued, his voice gaining strength, "I only did that because being with you, sharing that moment; it meant something to me too."

Relief washed over me, mingling with a surge of hope. "Really?" I couldn't help but blurt out, my voice tinged with disbelief and excitement.

"Yeah," Seungmin replied softly, the sincerity in his voice calming my nerves. "But... we should talk in person. There are things we need to sort out, especially with my dad and your mom around."

The mention of his father brought back the reality again. It wasn't just about us; there were larger implications to consider.

"I understand," I replied, trying to keep my disappointment in check. "When can we talk?"

"I'll come by your room in a bit," Seungmin said after a brief pause. "I just need to freshen up."

Nerves fluttered in my stomach as I hung up the phone, anticipation and anxiety wrestling within me.

True to his word, Seungmin arrived at my door not long after. His hair was slightly damp, a sign that he had indeed taken a moment to compose himself.

He stood there awkwardly for a moment, as if unsure how to begin. I gestured for him to come in, silently inviting him to sit beside me on the bed.

Seungmin took a seat, his eyes meeting mine with a mix of earnestness and uncertainty. 

I could smell the familiar smell of his shampoo, which instantly sent me into flashback mode. My cheeks felt hot and I instinctively covered my face with my sleeves. 

I swallowed the lump in my throat before mumbling. "I don't regret it… by the way."

A flicker of relief crossed Seungmin's features, though his expression remained guarded. "Me neither," he admitted quietly. "But, my dad, your mom, what if they really like eachother?"

I felt my throat get dry, I didn’t know how to answer this question myself. “My mom isn’t the type to stay…” I admit to him, hoping he’ll understand me. 

“I understand, but it feels wrong.” he says to me, his eyes searching mine as if looking to see if I understood.

“Did kissing me feel wrong?” I said to him straight, looking in his eyes

Seungmin's hesitation was palpable as he considered my question, his gaze shifting slightly before meeting mine again. "No," he replied earnestly, his voice soft but unwavering. "Kissing you didn't feel wrong."

Relief washed over me at his honesty, but a knot of worry tightened in my chest. "Then why does it feel wrong now?" I pressed gently, needing to understand his thoughts.

He looked down for a moment, his fingers unconsciously fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. "It's not about how I feel about you," he began, his voice low. "It's about everything else... the expectations, the complications with our parents."

I nodded slowly, understanding the weight of his words. "I know," I murmured, my voice tinged with empathy. "But sometimes, we have to listen to what we feel, not just what others might think."

Seungmin looked up, his eyes searching mine as if trying to convey a thousand unspoken thoughts. "I don't want to hurt anyone," he admitted quietly. "I don’t want to hurt you."

"I don't want that either," I assured him softly, reaching out to gently touch his arm. "But maybe... just for now, we can focus on us. On what we feel."

He exhaled slowly, a conflicted expression crossing his features. "I... I want to," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "But..."

Before he could finish, I leaned in, closing the gap between us. His breath hitched slightly as our lips met again, tentatively at first, then with a growing urgency. It was a different kiss this time, filled with questions and uncharted emotions.

Seungmin responded, his hands coming up to my waist to support me, his touch rougher than last night. I melted into the kiss, feeling a surge of warmth and longing that echoed the emotions swirling inside me.

He seemed to give up his reasoning then, hungry for the connection. I let my hands tangle in his hair as I followed him, remembering the way he kissed me last night to guide me through the kiss.

I felt Seungmin gently nip at my lips, the slight sting of his teeth sending a shiver of pleasure through me. His hand slid to the back of my head, fingers threading through my hair as he gently tugged, prompting an involuntary sigh to escape my lips.

Seungmin gazed at me with a mixture of awe and uncertainty. "I..." he began, his voice thick with emotion. "I didn't expect..."

“Seungmin…” I whispered out, breathless and dazed. I didn’t want this to end now, like last night when we cut it off leaving me high and dry. 

The restraint that was left in him seemed to be cutting down to nothing. I saw as his fist clenched as he stared at my helpless face, the desperation screaming all over me.

"We have to think about this," he breathed, his voice trembling with unsaid emotions, he looked like holding back was incredibly painful for him. 

I sighed, feeling a weight settle around my heart. He was right, I knew, but the thought of losing him even if it was just for now was an all-too-real threat. And yet, with every minute that passed, I knew the pull between us grew stronger, the desire and the need for each other intensifying. It was a dangerous game we were playing, one with no clear answers or solutions.

"But..." I began, searching for the words to convey my feelings. "What if it's worth it? What if we can't let go?"

Seungmin's eyes locked with mine, a steady resolve in his gaze. "I want to figure it out, together," he vowed quietly. “I want to find a way to make it work, no matter what it takes."

I nodded, feeling a spark of hope flare within me. "I want that," I said, my voice little more than a whisper. "I want you."

He leaned in for another kiss, this one softer, more vulnerable. "And I want you," he sighed, his voice breaking with emotion. "But we have to be careful, for both of our sakes."

---

[that-smallinjured-bowylamb]

Yearn.

A/n: Oops, I was feeling sad lately. I'm never giving my yuusona a break (just like how life treats me), anyway, enjoy my self-insert, or you could self-insert. I didn't specify whom. It's just circulated around Lilia and angst. [Between me and my complicated feelings for this guy, I'm stuck between making a fluff love fic or a fic filled to the brim with misery :p] this was meant to be a self-insert for my yuusona, but since I have a secret love affair with angst for a very long time, I've decided to share it to the whole TWST world/Fandom, and hope whoever gets this, comments. [Idk how to threaten people, so I just threaten them with sad fics ig 😔)

P.s I feel kinda bad for doing this to my yuusona, but reality is a bitch sooo 😋 (<-this fic was the first thing I thought about when I woke up early in the morning at 6am)

@gracegarnet @hanafubukki I'm justtt going to tag both of you since you're both my favorite writer/artist 💕🪽 the fic doesn't hurt as much as I expect it to be (bc I have no ounce of regret doing this to my self-insert), but I hope both of you like it !!

Honorary for @water-blue since you've been a comforting companion, sending in love to you rn 🫶🫶🫶 !!!

First POV

No specified gender

Warning ⚠️: Angst, maybe a self-insert but no mentions of it (so it's optional), just angst no fluff, angst/no comfort, implications of Chuichide. [<-I don't wanna spell it properly, I'd like to censor it thank you 😊🎀]

We both went to the same school.

And yet, we are from different worlds.

I wished you'd look at me the way I look at you, oh, how much I pray and wish you'd look my way, even with a small hint of affection for me.

Your ruby eyes gleaming with mischief, it brings me in. Enthralled.

I can't help myself, but I cry every night, wishing I was lovable. But, I wished I've never said anything about it.

I was a fool.

A fool to think that you'd reciprocate something so trivial as my feelings. It was painful to hear someone else had your heart.

I've never thought I'd had to yearn for someone, let alone intensely.

I just thought if I got this out of my chest, everything would be fine. That, it wouldn't hurt too.

But saying 'no' would hurt me just as much.

I thought that day when you smiled. I laughed. You've brightened my world with so much color. Colors that I haven't seen myself in for years. Colors that had long dulled in my world, you've managed to bring it back, a flower blooming in a gloomy night. Amidst my stress, I've thought about you bringing peace to my head. I wished things could've been different. When you laugh, I laugh along. When you smile, I smile even when I deny it comes from your contagious ones. When you talk, I listen with my hands cradling my face underneath my cheeks painted in rosy hues. My eyes only saw you through rose-colored glasses. My love is blind, so blind I didn't see what could've happened that day of my confession.

I should've never said anything that day, if only it meant to keep our friendships peace unbothered.

That day, when I realized I truly fell for a man, I wasn't surprised.

I was scared.

Scared because I've never dealt with these feelings before, I've never felt so strongly. And yet, it still manages. Everything I experienced could be brand new, and this one was no exception.

This love I feel is real. So real it could hurt me, spiritually damaging.

I've admired him from afar, watching as the other admirers or fevorant Bachelors/Bachelorettes surround him, he was popular with everyone he'd cross paths with, ensnare certain souls that longs for him. He was perfect. Even if he wasn't completely perfect, he still managed to capture hearts with ease or without his knowledge.

Maybe he knew, maybe he didn't.

But, the way others had looked at him, with the same affection I held for him, it was quite obvious I was envious.

No, not to the admirers that got close to him, but him specifically.

He laughs, and he charms others without trying. He does his things, and he's admired for it, even going as far as to praise and compliment his accomplishments. Sometimes, I want to be him as well. But, at the same time, to be the one that praises his might.

He's beautiful, and it's already stated for that. Many admirers had said so many, many, many times. But it wasn't only the appearance they've been attracted to. It's what's inside him, his enigma spirit.

For those who long for him, they surely are beautiful, their designs, their souls, their everything is indescribably charming to others as well. I see that. So maybe his other admirers will have a chance with him instead.

And I will watch on the sidelines. Watching not waiting. Because waiting is for desperate people.

And I'm desperate. Pathetically so.

No matter how beautiful I look to others, whether it'd be my wings, my claws, my tail, my horns, my halo, my uniqueness in appearance, or just as a regular person with my own charms, nothing.

It won't help me get close to him, not without my honesty.

I've never been one to be honest to myself or anyone in general. I've lied, lied too many times to count. All I know is that I've blurred my lies with my truths. I've written stories for myself and he. While others make stories of themselves and him. Maybe some other writers that write about him, then gifting it to one of his known admirers as a gift they'd appreciate.

Of course, they've appreciated what was given to them. After all, those gifts contain the admirer and Lilia.

It was beautiful, but I was filled with envy. I'm sorry if this had to happen to me, but it's true.

I've admired his admirers, and they all seem so beautiful in their own ways, I wished I was as colorful as they are on the inside.

If only that were ever to happen to my dull soul. Maybe he would've like me better. If I had a spirit of flame.

But I wasn't one to be determined. I never was. I couldn't help myself, I was selfishly stupid. I waited for his response. There was nothing. I wished I wasn't so dumb to believe.

I didn't expect him to one day speak to me. Not after our first encounter with each other. But I regretted the day I had a hope for my chance, to be near him in the coming years.

I was foolish. I was selfish. I was stupid. Fell into a rabbit hole of delusions. I believed.

I wished I never did.

The day we both had our first encounter, I fell. Not for his appearance.

At first, I was just intrigued, but the more I saw him and his character, the more I fell and fell. Curiouser and curiouser...

I fell in a deep spell of love.

It was dangerous and tempting to play with, to hold. But, in a moment of stupidity, I didn't have a second thought. All I knew was that I fell for him, nothing more. I fell for him, I've made poems about him, I've made a journal about him, I've been admiring him whenever I had the chance.

But he was always surrounded by many, many admirers who loved him more. More than I ever could.

My heart aches thinking about him with another. But, it wasn't my choice to begin with. I could only hope he'd choose me. Oh, how foolishly selfish I was. To think that a man of loyalty could love me if they were to ever exist.

They don't. And I just so happen to find a man who could've been a loving, loyal husband, with three kids, and a happy life in him. His future. Or his current.

But, I knew I didn't deserve such kindness from him, and maybe not a future with him. In the first place, I've never even had a chance.

So that time when he took my hand to show me the world of night? It overwhelmed my senses of logic. He held my hand with care and hugged me when I got scared. It was meant to be a platonic comfort. But I had the wrong message. It wasn't out of love for me. It was because he cared about me. Not love me in a way I wanted.

I planted a cherry blossom tree, I've taken care of it while checking up my friends if they were okay. I've done everything I could as to not make it suspicious for them, but Rook.

That man knew. The blondie Bob knew. Of course he'd know, what was there to hide if he did?

I told him to keep it a secret, to not spoil it. He agreed, not without reciting on how much of a romance at heart I could be, since no one had ever seen me with a dopey grin, a soft smile, and cheery laugh with warm words. He'd go on and on about how I've been dull-looking, at this time, it might be the perfect chance to see me shine In a way where I am happy, for once in my life.

And I believed him. That, and I also had missed something in his eyes when I turned to leave and treat my growing tree of my confession.

The tree grew under my care and thoughts filled with sappy love notes I've never written to anyone, but for him. I'd do it.

It was then the cherry tree blossomed into a beautiful pink tree, so big it was almost an equivalent to a castle's height. Not that big, of course, I was joking!

"Hey, Lilia..." "Hmm? What do you need?" He'd say with a grin.

"I want you to meet me in the evening, after school if that's alright with you..."

He agreed, and I ran. As far away as possible, I'm trying to catch my breath. I was scared.

The feeling of dread is always a familiar friend of mine. It's not too far to stay away for too long. It had always been there.

But I thought nothing of it. I wished I did.

That evening, standing beneath the beautiful Blossom tree, I stood nervously as you waited, I remembered your words.

My after confessions. My delusions. I hated it all. I hated, and then I remembered.

I remembered why I hated love in the first place.

The rejection, the projection, the lies.

I wished I had never felt love in the first place.

"I'm sorry."

No, you're not sorry.

"But it appears that someone else had caught my eye. I apologize for the inconvenience."

...

I'm done. There's nothing more to say about it. I couldn't feel anything at that time. All I remembered in that memory was a haze. I just accepted the refusal without a thought in my head, blank.

That night, when Rook came to ask how my confession went, I was silent.

My eyes dulled again. I regret feeling.

I do not know his reason for his actions, yet he tried to console me. It wasn't comforting in the slightest.

To me, it felt like pity. Maybe to him, it was understanding.

But none of it had helped me from what I was about to do.

All because my hatred came knocking at my door once more to take me to their final destination.

"If you're reading this, I'm sorry. To my friends, to my found family, and to my family I never got to return back to.

I've long given up on these hopeful feelings. The things I've wanted to feel for a long time, everything shattered. In my previous world, into this one. No world has a place for me to feel. At least, none of them can bring me to feel anymore. Since I'm no longer here.

For those who had feelings for me, whether in platonic or otherwise, I'm sorry that I've doubted you. But I can't find it in my heart to live for it.

I've never felt loved in the first place. Maybe that's why I decided to give up all my love away and choose to betrothed myself to death.

To where I stood, under my confession, my decaying body filled with purple hyacinths, pink petals fall underneath the ground I float above, near attached to the tree of my love.

I'm sorry.

- signed, [.......] [............]"

My love where I hung, it died along my feelings.

The feelings that grew and withered into a shriveled bouquet.

Who could've thought, I'd love but not be loved?

The End. 🪦🪽

Fly, fly, fly away, and high. Dear Yuusona, you could've loved Trey or Rook instead. (Or maybe other TWST Characters.)

Is it selfish of me to ask somebody to tag me in a Lilia fic afterward?... I hope not. Maybe.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy!!! Eat your yummy angst up !!! (Yes, my Yuusona is fine. This is just her reality of an "what if" so Lilia didn't actually rejected her...

This is one of her realities, though.) Hehe🪽!!! 🎀🤭🤭🎀

Purple hyacinths- symbolizing sorrow, deep regret, and a desire for forgiveness. A message of longing.

[flipfliqyaoi]

Do you ever think about what happened to Flippy after Operation Tiger Bomb? Like I always imagined he woke up, scared and confused, in tears and surrounded by tiger corpses, with the last memory he had before "blacking out" was being inside his friend's corpse. Since you mentioned in your previous ramble about him and Fliqpy relying on adrenaline, I'm now thinking he will probably be in immense pain as well.

I also think he would have probably gotten lost for a while (for weeks specifically) before getting found by anyone in the W.A.R.

YESSS oh my god u get it. The implication at the end of that Ka-Pow episode where Fliq, instead of going back to base after successfully killing the General, he decides to find THEIR base instead and show up with their mutilated General in that pizza box. (Assuming that the spot the meeting was held in, is a whole different spot from their actual base).

So 100% this dude has been legitimately traversing by himself, coming all the way over that damned island, eradicate like basically that whole base I'm assuming, and when he finally switched out, Flippy's basically lost and probably presumed dead for a while before any of his team spontaneously finds him. I wouldn't blame him for thinking he's just a walking corpse at that point too, thinking he's a dead man already. I cannot imagine having to travel through the forest praying for someone to find him as he's actively bleeding the hell out. Realistically he'd die on the spot from blood loss and such but. For the sake of lore — he survives and gets found yay!!

Flippy would most likely have collapsed somewhere he thought would be "safe" and just sat there. Maybe he tries to get his radio to work despite the lack of hands, try to contact anybody and hold onto his sliver of hope of getting out of there. His body literally burns and aches in the worst ways possible. His soles were sore from however many kilometers Fliq had travelled, his taste bud coated in the taste of iron mixed with his enemies blood along with his own. He feels feverish and delirious, thousands of needles jabbing against his torn arms and deep gushing wounds every inch he moves. With that amount of pain I doubt he can register the moment that people found him and finally got help, or frankly, anything at all — the entire situation is blurry to him, almost unrecognizable. It's more like he got time skipped into the hospital without his knowledge. Forearms sewed in and torso wrapped in bandages, hooked onto IVs and sounds of doctors along with his visiting comrades surrounding him and chattering.

If it's anything like Unicorn Wars he definitely got promoted to a new rank right after because holy fuckk how does one Private cause that much destruction AND survive it. The military would value him so so much but that's also at the cost of him having way more shit to do than necessary so SHRUGS... New rank but he's gonna be used to hell in missions and be ruthlessly burnt out. Sigh. Would kind of explain how he's been in all sorts of situations including being captured and tortured

side note I really appreciate u being so interested in my rants & asking HAHA it means a lot! I'm getting to talk about this dumb bear so much rn

[girlishwhimsies]

cherrycola au where cherry’s going through and folding the laundry for everybody bc she had to wash kat’s stuff anyway and god knows soda’s never actually folded the laundry in his life even though he always offers, and she pulls a madras shirt out of the laundry basket and she’s like “where’d you guys get this?” and darry all but rips it out of her hands (his face is BRIGHT red) and it’s very much a “you weren’t supposed to see that” moment (all I can think about rn is this shirt omg)

IM GOING FUCKING INSANE LIKE ACTUALLY OH MY GOD

no no cause cherry would IMMEDIATELY clock that shit as paul’s, she KNOWS they don’t have a reason to own that shirt!!! Darry is Meticulous about doing the laundry cause he only likes the way he does it and idk darry would be a fan of rhythmic things like that yknow and so he normally doesn’t think too much about it ugh!!! he doesn’t even wear it, just just always washes it cause he feels like it should always be pristine cause that’s how paul kept his ugh…..

it’s only cherry and darry in the dining room and she’s just doing the laundry while he washes the dishes (soda is putting kat down for the night and pony is doing homework) and she pulls it out and just stares for a full sec not even processes what it is before it hits her and she remembers so vividly seeing it in paul’s house once and she was so confuse cause it didn’t look like it’d fit him right

and lo and behold!!! it wasn’t for him or was for darry ugh!!!! she wouldn’t even get to fullly turn around to darry before he grabs it from her all red and just shuts off bro goes straight to his room, he was NOT ready for that she was NOT supposed to see that. the further implications cause she was a soc too and ran in that circle and she ended up being the one to find it in the curtis home sighhhhhhh i have so many thoughts abt cherry and darry dynamic!!! that’s gonna be a post istg

rip cherry tho she’s yapping to soda all “ i just had the weirdest interaction with your brother..even weirder than ponyboy flirting with me a couple years ago??”

[hn-undercover-9503]

HELLO AGAIN it is time for my now-regular read through of CHAPTER 1149!!!! God I hope Sommers gets fucking annihilated today I desperately need to see it

____________________________________________

OHHHH okay alright I really like Gaban...Gaban is very cool....axe fighting waow mmmmmmm Oda should give us unique weapon styles more often this is fun to read

LMAO I love how shocked Usopp is to learn that Gaban is Collun's father bc like yeah no same I'd also like to know how he did...all of that lmaooo (mountain eater epithet hello)

YES YES YESSSS DECAPITATION YESSSSS SLICE THAT MOTHERFUCKED IN PIECES GO GO GOOOOOOO

love how he just immediately hightails it the moment Sommers is down--and Chopper's going after him to learn how he did it; ALSO I find it interesting that the official translation is actually going with the term "immortal" because the implications there are kind of insane actually

OHHHHH NOOOOOO SO THE LIBRARY DID GET SET ON FIRE???????!!!!! RAAAAHHHHH I THOUGHT MAYBE SINCE GABAN AND ROBIN INTERRUPTED THEY WOULD HAVE STOPPED BUT NOOOOO IT'S BURNING GODDAMN IT

GODROBIN'S FACE IS GONNA KILL ME OH MY GOD SHE'S FUCKING SHAKING I'M GONNA DIE I NEED JINBE FREE RN SO HE CAN SAVE THE LIBRARY PLSSSSS GOOODDDDDD

NOOOO RONJA BABY NO NO NO NO GOD WHY this chapter hurts a lot ow ow ow ow

COLLUN NOOO SWEETHEART OH NO OH FUCK BAD IDEA BAD IDEA DON'T TELL HER THAT

HMMMMMMMM Gaban is thinking that he needs to fix this whole mess by himself which immediately tells me something is about to go horribly horribly wrong

AAAAAAHHHH YEP YEP I WAS RIGHT GOING WRONG HOLY SHIT AAAAAAA

WAAAIT but it looks like he's falling down towards the underworld region!!!!!! Which means Luffy's group will definitely see him and realize what's going on THIS IS A GOOD THING I REPEAT THIS IS A GOOD THING ASSUMING HE DOESN'T DIE FROM THAT WHICH I SOMEHOW DOUBT BECAUSE THIS IS STILL ODA WE'RE TALKING ABOUT BUT THIS IS A GOOOOOD THINGGGG

HUHHHH WAIT WHAT WHAT THE FUCK WHAT DO YOU MEEEEAAAAANNNN IS BROOK GUNKO'S FUCKING FATHER!!!! WHAT!!!!!

RESEMBLANCE TO WHAT BROOK RESEMBLANCE TO WHOOOOOO ARE WE ABOUT TO GET A SECOND BROOK FLASHBACK HUHH

NO HOLD ON IMU CAN POSSESS THE HOLY KNIGHTS????!!!!!!! AND WHAT DO YOU MEAN MARIRGEOIS IS ON FIRE DID THE REVOLUTIONARIES DO THAT SURELY

RAAAAHHHHH HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT HOLY SHITTTTTTT GOD THAT'S COOL BUT HOLY SHIT IMU CAN POSSESS THE HOLY KNIGHTS

I wonder if it's specifically just Gunko they can take over like this??? If Imu wanted to could they take over Sommers and Quillingham too??? I'd be interested to find out but I also remember the arrow powers from the scene where Cobra dies in the throne room so I'm leaning towards it being a Gunko specific thing BUT THEN

HOW IS SHE CONNECTED TO BROOK?? SHE'S HIS DAUGHTER??? SO THEN WHYYY IS SHE A HOLY KNIGHT AND FOR THAT MATTER BROOK IS LIKE 80 SOMETHING YEARS OLD AND IF HE WAS STILL ALIVE HIS KID SHOULD BE AT LEAST FIFTY IF NOT OLDER SO THE HOLY KNIGHTS ARE REALLY IMMORTAL???

okay....GOOODDDDAMMNNN this was a really good chapter holy shit....there is soooo much to unpack with this one boys I need to lay down and think about this for hours

tune in next week for when I inevitably lose my shit once again 🫡