#their flip phones 🥲

[onlyswan]

summary: in which jungkook is one of your greatest fears and you’re his achilles’ heel.

idol!jungkook x reader, est. relationship / fluff, angst / word count: 4.1k

content/warnings: i love you i want us both to eat well T_T sigh. oc has abandonment issues pls protect at all costs + oc is worried bc jk is working so hard :( + a worm (???) cameo. ily protective and hopeless romantic iw!jk <3 the ending 🥲💔 this drabble literally goes 📈📉

> in which masterlist!

note: *insert my melody mugshot scene* me if planting puzzle pieces in my drabbles + making oc cry (IM SORRY) were a crime. this was sm fun writing <3 i cried and laughed they’re so precious </3

—

“jungkook, baby?”

your silky voice fills the quiet apartment as you pad across the floor. you’re carrying your heeled mary janes by its straps, leaving you only in your white socks.

“babe?”

you frown as the seconds pass and you receive no response from your lover. there’s no music playing, no rustling somewhere in the kitchen or the living room. the lights are dim like they usually are, but the vivid colors are absent.

him? asleep at 9pm? jeon jungkook? it can’t be, but you’d be delighted to finally see him resting early if it was real.

and so, spurred by that tiny glimmer of hope, you carefully crack the bedroom door open, as if you’re fifteen again and you just came back from sneaking out of the house.

but you’re grown now; you live in a building with complete strangers for neighbors. you just got home from work, and you’re no longer used to sleeping alone because you share the bed with another person.

you find it empty. devoid of any creases, sign of life. as neat as a hotel room’s make believe that no one lived there until two hours prior.

the disappointment weighs down on your shoulders, causing them to drop.

he didn’t tell you he was going somewhere else after practice, you think to yourself as your lips permanently shape into a pout. what happened to going out with you for dinner?

agreeing, your empty stomach grumbles angrily.

maybe he got caught up at work. maybe he’s on his way home. maybe he’s on his way to the restaurant and he’s about to text you to come over. maybe he forgot about your plans and he’s having dinner with somebody else.

whatever the reason is, you’re too lazy and tired to whip up something edible on your own. with or without him, you’re going out and you’re stuffing your mouth full with rice and meat. after all, autumn is here, your dear old friend.

in search for a coat that will accompany you in your late-night stroll, you enter the walk-in closet and flip on the lightswitch.

you can count them with just your fingers— the amount of times you’ve felt this type of fear. absent eyes, melting spine, chills running to the top of your head down to your fingertips, mind racing with an overload of thoughts (it appears as a blank page, the same way that white is the presence of all colors of visible light). this fear… you associate it with impulsive mistakes, fire, police and ambulance sirens, and… empty closets.

jungkook’s side of the closet is empty.

clothes. shoes. bucket hats. beanies. belts. everything. gone.

but the floor is scattered with random pieces of clothing that look like they accidentally fell while someone was in a rush to pack them all in a bag. so in a rush that they didn’t even bother to pick them up.

your weak knees almost give way, but you force yourself to stumble backwards until your back hits the doorframe— you refuse to let yourself look like you’ve been carelessly discarded too.

not again. not again. not this goddamn vicious curse you thought you’ve already broken out of. not. again.

you blink away the tears threatening to spill as you scramble to open the zipper of your bag, but they spill anyway when your shoes clatter to the floor. you flinch at the thunderous sound, clutching your phone tightly against your chest. you keep your eyes closed throughout the defeaning silence that comes after.

the empty space mocks you. it knows your intricate design was not meant to live in an empty home.

you guess nothing much has changed. you’re still afraid of jungkook and his power to take away the sun, just as he did before, and you deeply despise being afraid. you don’t like it when the walls are closing in on you, poisoning your mind into believing that you’re small when the heart inside your chest burns with a fire brighter than that of the damn sun.

anyone would be foolish to leave you; it’s only jungkook who could have you mourning the death of the garden you’ve given the past five years of your life to.

—

jungkook returns to the apartment half an hour later. despite the long, grueling hours of dance practice he nearly didn’t survive, the excitement vibrating through his body is manifested through the lightness of his movements. he’s finally seeing his lover for the first time today… awake.

when he brought his natural body warmth along with him to the bathroom this morning, you sunk yourself further into mattress, beneath the thick blankets and against the soft pillows. by the time he had to give you your obligatory goodbye kiss before he leaves for work (or else you’d sulk about it for the rest of the week), half of your face has been hidden from sight. he was only able to press a loving kiss on your forehead, and then your eyelids that were fluttering as you dreamt.

night time comes and he is still deprived of the sight of your beautiful face? he somberly wonders as he finds you slumped over the dining table; he swears that there is a dark rain cloud hovering above you. your arms are thrown over the hardwood as they serve as a makeshift pillow for your vessel— his little firefly curiously bleak.

“baby? are you sick?” he asks, voice dripping with concern as he tenderly rubs your back.

the legs of the chair screeches against the tiled floor, neglectedly pushed behind.

“kook?” you manage to choke out, frantically sitting up once your muddled brain registered the familiarity of his touch on your bare skin.

his heart drops to his stomach as your tear-stained face comes into view. this isn’t how he envisioned your greeting; it usually came in the form of a bright light not harsh as the sunlight, a softness that begs to be held.

“are you crying?!”

your reply only comes out as a pitiful whimper. he stumbles a step backwards when you unceremoniously jump into his embrace, wrapping your arms over his shoulders. he gets a whiff of your sweet perfume, and then it becomes the air that he breathes, but he doesn’t have much time to revel in it.

“baby!”

he squeezes your waist taut against his body, affectionately nosing at your cheek before giving you a kiss. “did something happen? tell me- tell me.”

“jungkook,” your voice cracks as you utter his name, sounding almost like a plea, and then an endless string of heartbreaking sobs comes out muffled against his shirt. “where have you been?”

this sends him into a state of panic. seeing you in pain— it’s his biggest weakness. after all, you are his achilles’ heel.

“why? why, why, why?” you’re weak and pliant as he pulls your arms down, collapsing against his chest when he envelopes you in his embrace. he cradles your head in his palm, soothing you with gentle pats and shushes. “shh, shhh- it’s okay, i’m here now. everything’s okay, you hear me?”

his efforts prove to be fruitless, because you only seem to cry harder as he slowly rocks your bodies back and forth.

you shake your head, hands attempting to hold on to the back of his shirt to regain sensation in your limbs, but they miserably fail and fall on the sides of his hips.

“talk to me… please, mhmm?“ he hums quietly, pressing his soft lips to your temple. “tell me what’s wrong and your boyfriend will take care of it.”

from your sniffles to your hiccups, you remain unable to form any coherent response, and it leads his imagination to construct the worst possible scenarios. he feels his stomach turn with uneasiness, jaw clenching as he carefully pulls away to meet you eye-to-eye.

“did someone touch you? hurt you?” he spits out with urgency, and the unparalleled care he displays puts you in a daze, simply dumbfounded as he strokes your face. “huh, baby? just tell me and i’ll take care of the rest.”

now that you’re being reminded that jungkook could quite literally kill a person with his bare hands if they ever inflict harm on you, the fog is clearing up and you feel so incredibly… stupid.

but that’s more the reason why it’s difficult not to be sensitive when it comes to him; his absence proves to be lethal.

“shit, you’re scaring me.” he breathes out shakily as he taps your cheek lightly to bring you back to him, the distant look in your eyes triggering the emergency alarms in his head.

he unconsciously licks his lips and he tastes your tears; he doesn’t want anybody else to ever come this close.

“okay, okay- let’s put that aside for now. what do you need? should we go to bed and rest instead?”

“i thought you left,” you whisper as you hang your head in shame.

he blinks at you in confusion. “to where? my flight isn’t until next week, baby.”

fantastic! now you sound like the most dramatic, clingiest bitch to ever grace the planet. you bury your face in your hands to hide the battle zone between your heart and mind, but your boyfriend seizes your wrists because he can’t bear another second of it.

“is-is that why you’re upset…?” he asks with not a trace of malice or ridicule. he is only filled with guilt as it dawns on him then— how you’ve only gotten used to always having him around four years into your relationship, when he was taking a break from work.

the changes in his life are also changes in yours, but they still affect you in many different ways.

“then just come with me. i’ll make it work. maybe we can extend for a bit, spend an entire day by ourselves- there’s a lot of museu-”

“i thought you left,” you repeat yourself, exposed and vulnerable, vision swallowed by the darkness because you can’t make yourself look at him. “your clothes… they’re gone, and i was calling but you… you weren’t answering my calls so i thought…”

“my clothes?” he exclaims, eyes going wide as he realizes that they’ve accidentally slipped from his mind. “ahh, i thought about cleaning the closet while waiting for you so i moved everything to the other room!”

you open your mouth to speak, but much to your chagrin, no words come out. you purse your lips as your chin wobbles— the new wave of tears in your eyes mimic shiny crystals.

“____!”

and at the stern mention of your name, you know that you’re about to receive a (loving) scolding from your boyfriend. your lips curve into a frown before a sob inevitably escapes past them.

“why would you think that? why would i leave you? that doesn’t make sense at all, does it…?”

you shake your head, hugging him so tight, possibly tighter than you’ve ever done before. between your bodies, his heart is being unbearably wrung.

“i’m sorry, baby. seeing you cry like this breaks my heart…” he closes his eyes with a heavy sigh, resting his cheek on the side of your head. “but why would that be the first thing you think of…? i must be doing something wrong, right? have i been too busy with work? am i neglecting you?”

you’re breathless, a little dizzy— bloodshot eyes meeting his that are now gleaming with sadness. “no, it’s not like that! i just panicked, i couldn’t think straight.”

“are you sure?”

he looks at you skeptically, scanning your face.

“baby-” his voice breaks, then he pauses with his gaze still trained on you. “okay, i’m sorry. i… should’ve thought about what cleaning the closet would look like.”

“i was just being stupid.” you give him a small smile, rubbing your eyes to chase away the burning sensation. “sorry for scaring you.”

“stop, you’ll hurt yourself.” he tuts, pushing your wrists aside to cup your face in his hands, much gentler in comparison to your own self. his thumbs draw shapes on your soft skin, and then out of the blue, he curiously squeezes one of the space buns on top of your head. “wow, this is so pretty?”

“huh…? oh, thanks.” you mumble, still feeling out of it.

“this, too.” the white silk ribbon wrapped prettily around your neck, he means, which he hooks a finger on to tug lightly. it matches the lace straps on your shoulders that falls across the underbust of your dress, tied together to form a ribbon in the middle of it. that makes two, so clasically you.

and while it may be partly true that he’s trying to lighten the atmosphere, he just can’t defy the urge to express his admiration for you, even in a situation like this. he’s perpetually love-drunk.

“thank you.” you nod, shyly looking away to sniffle. “but you’re the reason why my makeup is ruined… need to wash it off before we go.”

“you’re beautiful either way, baby.”

“i know.” you scoff. “would you date me for five years if i wasn’t?”

he releases a throaty chuckle, capturing your lips in his with a smile of endearment that he fails to subdue.

“you’re so fucking cute. i love you-” he says with merely an inch of distance between you.

he grunts in melodramatic anguish, overcome by the insensity of his affections overflowing past the brim of his very being, leaning so close that the edge of the table digs into your lower back, surely to leave a temporary mark.

and he carries on to kiss you so many times that you lose count; you can only melt as you collect them in that bottomless pocket located somewhere in your soul, where all the love you’ve received across lifetimes is recorded to prove i was once here.

“i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you. i’m never leaving. you’re stuck with me and bam forever.”

if the time comes that the two of you break up, who would bam come home to? jungkook stubbornly refuses to have that conversation.

however, you still can’t let go of something, and you pout as you shove him lightly. unsurprisingly, his strong build doesn’t budge at all.

“but why didn’t you answer my calls?” at last, you gain enough energy to complain, but your face grows hot as the urge to cry returns. “i mean, what else was i supposed to think?!”

jungkook is struck by yet another lightning.

may the heavens have mercy, he’s been making you angry more than usual lately.

“shit, i forgot. i turned off my phone.” he mutters under his breath, feeling extremely regretful that he was not reachable when you needed him most to be. “i wanted to focus only on you tonight. what do they call it again…? leaving work at work?”

he winces guiltily.

“i’m sorry. maybe it wasn’t a smart idea.”

“no, i like that.” you almost interrupt him from talking because of how fast you are to brush off his apology.

he makes a mental note of it— the way you’re gripping at his shirt in small fists. you’re tense and overwhelmed; you need him to stay close.

“leave work at work. focus on me, and let me be your rest.”

unbeknownst to you, jungkook bites back his tears then. after all this time, he still gets mesmerized by the tenderness that naturally governs your every word and action; he thinks that he needs you more than you need him.

—

“just eat, baby. i’ll cook the meat for us.” jungkook coos at you as he cuts more meat into bite-sized pieces using a pair of kitchen shears.

“okay, then i’ll make sure that you eat.” you grin excitedly, dragging your chair closer to his.

you set down the tongs, grabbing your chopsticks to pick up a cooked piece of pork belly from the grill. you don’t forget to blow on it, mindful of burning his tongue.

of course, you don’t want to hurt him, but it would be especially painful for him as a singer.

“ahhh-” still busy with cooking, jungkook opens wide at your cue, catching the meat in between his teeth.

“rice,” he demands as he chews.

you scoop up rice from your bowl, and he devours it happily as he continues to flip the strips of pork belly lined up across the grill.

“mmhmm, it’s so delicious!” he dramatically says out loud. his eyebrows are knitted together and his legs are bouncing under the table, tell-tale signs of him enjoying the food.

witnessing this kind of reaction, any chef would be happy to slave away in the kitchen to serve him a meal. you recognize it in the smile of the owner after jungkook ordered more side dishes, and the way he dashed through the door to reduce the waiting time.

“yah, feed yourself, too!” jungkook chides you after you feed him meat three times in a row, but with an open palm that catches the juice that drips from the kimchi, you still tap your chopsticks against his lips. he spares it a glance before catching it using his tongue.

“i am!” you then rush to wrap a piece of pork belly in lettuce, dipping it into ssamjang before stuffing it into your mouth.

“good job, baby.” he grins in satisfaction, rubbing your back as praise. this makes you preen. “make sure to eat lots, got it?”

but then you’re back to spoiling him rotten, this time with an egg roll. so far, he has only touched his own chopsticks twice.

“i just told you to eat first!”

you glare at him, pouting. “but you worked so hard practicing today and you haven’t even eaten properly yet.”

he is too busy with work, and it’s not news that you’ve been worried sick about his health. it’s difficult to watch him work himself to the bone, but no one truly has the power to stop jungkook from doing what he wants, sometimes not even himself. and you find it impossible to fault him for it when you know that everything he does is done out of love. from the vigorous vocal and dance lessons, and to the deep cleaning of the apartment because his baby has been developing an allergy to dust.

“you need to make it up to your body. here, please?”

he loves being loved, jungkook thinks to himself as he eats the egg roll whole.

—

you were already prepared to go home after dinner, but your night owl for a boyfriend insisted on going on a walk at the park because he wanted to, and you quote, ‘see you awake for a little while longer,’ or whatever the hell he meant by that.

with his tattooed arm protectively swung over your shoulder, you’re engulfed in a wave of nostalgia. for the first two years of your relationship, before you started living together, you only met with each other at night, save for the very rare day-offs that he got. the only places that are still open after midnight are nightclubs, fastfood chains, convenience stores… and well, parks.

and he would always hold you close like this to make you feel safe, and the rest of you melts away while the side of your ribcage that he is pressed against remains to shelter your heart. on the contrary, you also remember how your bodies used to be so tense. you wanted to sacrifice more sleep and to walk to the other side of the park, of the street, to that other convenience store five blocks away because this one didn’t have the flavor of ice cream you wanted, anything… just… anything so you could be with each other ten minutes more.

and it was cold. it was always cold.

“what do you mean ‘it exploded’?”

“it seriously exploded! it was on fire! that’s why i went out to buy a new extension cord!”

“jungkook, it’s because you plug in too many things at once!” you cry out in frustration, your steps becoming heavy stomps. “i told you to stop doing that!”

“what do you mean? if it has six slots, doesn’t that mean six devices is the maximum?” he continues to stubbornly defend himself, and you can only hang your head in defeat. “otherwise, it’s a scam!”

“it is a scam! see…? they made you buy a ne-”

your sentence is cut short as your tongue gets paralyzed.

a dark and striped, long figure approaching ahead, slithering its across the grass.

your mind immediately registers it as the animal you fear most.

oh, no. no, no, no, no, no.

“jungkook,” you utter his name with a tremble.

the same fear you experienced only two hours ago holds you hostage once more, add all the hair in your body standing up and you’re as frightened as a cat.

“what’s wrong? yah! what are you doing?! baby, ba- fuck!” he sputters out as you forcefully pull him back along with you, displaying a type of strength and agility he doesn’t normally see.

the two of you continue to stumble backwards as you struggle to maintain balance, and somehow jungkook manages to switch your positions so that you’re the one who lands on top him instead of the other way around when you eventually end up as a heap on the soft earth.

he begins to feel his throat closing up at the sight of pure, genuine fear in your eyes.

“jungkook, snake- it’s small bu-”

you interrupt your own sentence with a high-pitched squeal, garnering looks from strangers moving and unmoving. in the blink of an eye, your boyfriend has swept you off your feet as if you’re light as a feather, driven by the instinct to protect the love of his life.

you cover your mouth in shock, your other arm coming up around his neck to keep yourself from falling.

you think you may have fallen for jungkook all over again.

“are you spiderman?”

he was too busy searching for the subject of your fear under dim lights, and so he looks at you in bewilderment to ask, “what was that?”

you shake your head with your wide eyes shining with faux innocence. you squeak. “nothing.”

he releases a sigh, followed by a chuckle of obvious relief and amusement as he squeezes your body closer to plant a kiss on your forehead. “aigoo, my ____! why are you so scared today? what am i going to do with you…? it’s just a worm.”

“are you sure? i swear i saw it raise its head!“

“i’m sure,” he lulls you. “i think worms can do that, too?”

your face twists in an expression of mixed bewilderment and distrust.

“that i’m not sure about, but it’s really just a worm! would i still be standing here if it wasn’t?” he clicks his tongue sharply. “we need to get your eyes rechecked.”

you roll your eyes with a huff. you’ve have had enough of his teasing before it even starts.

“uh?! i’m serious over here!”

this is new— you mean bickering with jungkook in a public place isn’t, but being carried by him like a bride while it happens definitely is.

“fine, i’ll go this weekend. happy?” you fake an obedient smile. “you can put me down now.”

he blinks, and then he adjusts the way he’s holding you to ensure that your dress won’t show what’s for his eyes only— for a split second, you were flying.

“i’ll go with you,”

“okay. now put me down.“ you tap his shoulder repeatedly to prompt him to heed your words. “babe, this is embarrassing!”

“nope,” he ignores your protest with nonchalance as he resumes to walk the path you’re on, evidently enjoying the attention he’s stealing and the way you’re curling yourself smaller to hide.

“oh my god! weren’t you just complaining about your body hurting?!”

“you were scared of me leaving,” he smiles, glancing down at you. “so now i’m gluing you to myself.”

that made you quiet for a while. inside your tote, the container of kimchi, wrapped in a plastic bag, rattles with his every stride. you noticed that jungkook loved it so much, so you ordered it to go when he went to the bathroom before you were to leave the restaurant.

“you know, we used to just hold hands,” you mumble with a childish pout. “like normal people?”

“this is very normal,” he argues.

the scenery becomes more familiar as he takes the long way home.

“some would even say romantic.”

a wave of nostalgia hits, and you visibly shiver.

you don’t know if he would remember, but he has said the same exact words once before.

you scrunch your nose, supposedly to give him a look of disgust, but a giddy smile betrays you. you are five years younger again, and the night ends with the moon bidding you an adieu.

—

taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

—

[latenighttalkinqwp]

can you do sassy paige hcs??

yes!! i got multiple requests for this one so here it is 🥳

• is literally the queen of side eyeing you. like you could be literally just sitting on your phone doing nothing and she will just give that look until you finally pay attention to her.

• i think i said this in my first paige hc but she is most definitely a pouter. like no matter what if she dosent get what she wants when she wants it trust girl is locking herself in her room all day.

• loves to sigh whenever she is irritated. she will keep doing it louder and louder and whenever someone asks her what’s wrong, she will just be like “oh nothing.”

• is soooo impatient. like girl cannot sit still for five seconds and wait her turn for anything.

- “drew, can i have a turn now?”

“paige, he literally just got into the game!”

“i know buttttt it’s like my turn…”

• whenever she makes you braid her hair, trust she will be complaining every two seconds. either her braids aren’t even, her hair isn’t slick enough, or you just aren’t doing it correctly ( you always do them. )

• if someone asks her to do something and she just dosent wanna do it, p will definitely just say “no.” and get up and walk away. like????

• if you get mad at her about something, she will definitely like flip you off or make faces at you whenever you aren’t looking just to be annoying

• idk how to explain it but like she definitely does that thing where you click your tongue on the roof of ur mouth whenever she’s in one of her little moods ( pls tell me this makes sense 🥲 very much kk vibes with this one )

i hope this lived up to the expectations 😋 ( literally so sorry this is shit i will redo this one soon😥) keep the requests coming 😁

[nvrsaidiwasinurcloset]

Hi omg i absolutely love your work so much!! Literally had to turn on notifications just for you🩷 i wanted to request an enemies to lovers trope with ethan (but kinda slowburn) where he is really nice and shy/dorky with the rest of the group & rude to y/n specifically because he feels like thats the only way to get her attention. He walks in on her changing but leaves quickly due to embarrassment & a few days later just confesses during an argument and it ends in smut. Lots of angst & tension pls pls thank you so much🥲

Hiii! I hope you like it!

Holding on to You - Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader

This contains SMUT - Minors DNI

Summary: Ethan thinks he needs to be a jackass to get your attention. After months of dealing with his annoying ways, he confesses how he feels.

Contains: fluff, angst, use of pet names, mean!ethan, dry humping, riding, p in v sex. (If I missed anything, let me know!)

A/N: Apparently if I get stoned and listen to Twenty One Pilots, I write longer fics lmao. 3.7k words...jeez.

When Chad and Ethan needed a new roommate, and you hated yours, you decided to take Chad up on his offer for you to move in. Yeah, living with two boys wasn’t easy, but it wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be. Well, Chad wasn’t as bad as you thought he would be. Ethan on the other hand, loved to do things to piss you off.

As you stood at the sink doing your own dishes, Ethan walked by and dropped a bowl in the sink.

“Seriously?” you asked, looking over at him.

“What? You’re already doing dishes.”

Chad walked in the room before you could say anything else to Ethan. He smirked at you as Chad started to speak.

“Hey dude, you want to go with me to get the pizza for tonight?” he asked. You were having your friends over, and you were happy to have an interaction with someone that wasn’t a guy.

“Yeah,” Ethan said, sitting a cup in the sink, too.

“I’m not doing all your dishes, Ethan!” you yelled, as he and Chad made their way to the door.

He turned around to look at you again, flashing a smile before walking out.

The way Ethan acted was infuriating sometimes. He was completely different in the presence of everyone else, but when it was just the two of you, he was so rude.

When your friends started to arrive after Chad and Ethan got back, you were grabbing plates out of the cabinet when Ethan walked up behind you.

“Let me take these. I wouldn’t want all of them to get shattered,” he said, reaching over you and grabbing the stack. You huffed as he sat them down on the counter.

“I wouldn’t have broken them,” you mumbled, looking up at him.

“You just broke one last week!”

“Well, if you didn’t stack so many plates on the top shelf so only you’re giraffe-looking ass was able to reach them, maybe it wouldn’t have happened,” you snapped, grabbing the plates off the counter and carrying them out to the living room.

“Thank you,” Chad said as you sat the plates down.

“Yeah, thank you,” Ethan said as he followed you out, the sweetness in his voice making you want to gag.

As you all sat around eating, Tara brought up needing help for one of her classes.

“I can help you,” Ethan said, “I took that class already.”

“Let me guess, you had the highest grade in the class?” Mindy asked, already knowing the answer.

“I can’t help that I have a photographic memory,” he said, taking a bite of his food. “But seriously, if you need my help, let me know.”

You were quiet as you focused on your phone, trying to distract yourself from Ethan. You hated that he could be so nice to everyone else but was a total dick to you. It was disappointing because at one point, you thought he was sweet. The kindness and the fact that he was tall and very attractive was starting to draw you in, but then his personality just flipped one day.

“Why are you being so quiet?” Tara asked you, as you scrolled through your phone.

“I got a text from my ex earlier. Still an asshole,” you sighed, “But he’s been liking all my Instagram photos that he unliked when we broke up.”

“Don’t give him another chance, please,” Mindy begged, “He treats you like shit.”

Your cheeks started to turn pink as you sat there. You didn’t want to directly tell them that you were considering it, but the knowing look on Chad’s face confirmed that you were doing a bad job at hiding it.

“Seriously? He’s going to be in here trying to square up with me and Ethan, because he’s an insecure idiot,” Chad said, his tone full of disappointment, “You know he’s not good for you.”

Ethan was really invested in the conversation happening in front of him. He’d always kind of hoped that you’d just tell him you were interested in him. The type of guys you normally went after was the reason he was being a jerk, after all. He’s always wanted your attention.

“That’s my type though, Chad,” you sighed sarcastically as he shook his head.

“Yeah, but you could go after a sweet guy, like my boy Ethan over here,” he said, gesturing to the curly-haired boy that started to blush. “He’s a snack, right?”

“That didn’t work when you pitched it to the cute girl at the Halloween Party, and it’s not going to work now,” you giggled, happy that you were able to make a little dig at Ethan since he always says rude things to you.

“That wasn’t nice. I think you’re a snack,” Chad said to Ethan, as Tara started to laugh at their bromance.

“At least someone does,” Ethan said, glancing over to you and looking down at his lap.

“I’m not saying you’re not attractive, Ethan,” you sighed, feeling guilty for being so mean, “I guess you are a snack.”

“Oh, am I sensing a love connection here?” Chad said in a horrible fake-British accent.

“I didn’t say that.”

As everyone started to leave for the night, you went in your room to change into your pajama shorts and a big t-shirt.

Just as you took off your jeans, shirt, and bra, the door to your room opened.

“Hey, you left your…” You grabbed your shirt you were about to change into and quickly covered yourself with it as Ethan stood there. “Fuck, I’m so sorry.”

When he turned around and pulled the door shut behind him, your cheeks turned bright red. The guy that loves be an ass to you had just seen you in nothing but your panties. You sighed as you pulled your shirt and shorts on and walked out to get some water.

You jumped when you saw a shadowy figure in the dark kitchen as you turned the corner.

“It’s just me,” Chad said, as you flipped the light switch.

“You scared the shit out of me!” you said, as he stood there eating some of the cold, leftover pizza. “Why are you eating in the dark?”

“Why are you so jumpy? That’s how Ethan was a minute ago when he walked in here,” he said, chewing his food. “He sat your phone on the counter, by the way.”

“Maybe we’re jumpy because you’re lurking in a dark kitchen,” you said, grabbing your phone.

“You’re probably right. Well, good night.”

As he walked back to his room, you pulled a cup out of the cabinet, getting some water. You couldn’t stop thinking about how awkward it was going to be to see Ethan again, which will happen eventually because he shares your living space.

That didn’t happen for several days, though. He intentionally avoided you, only coming out of his room if you weren’t home, or you were in your own room. It was starting to bother you, because even if he made you feel like shit before he walked in on you, he at least talked to you, and it was significantly less awkward.

When you walked out to the living room, you saw Chad and Ethan sitting on the couch watching tv. You flopped down a few cushions away from them, looking at the screen.

“Star Wars, huh? I wouldn’t expect anything less from you two dorks,” you joked, as Chad scoffed.

“You know, I used to think you were cool,” he said, throwing one of the decorative pillows at you.

You threw it back at him, hitting Ethan in the process.

“Hey!” he yelled, grabbing the pillow that eventually landed on Chad and threw it back at you.

“You know what we need? Snacks,” Chad said, standing up. He grabbed the remote to pause the movie. “Ethan, Cheetos?” he asked as Ethan nodded. “Do you want anything?” he asked you, walking towards the kitchen. “No, I’m good.”

“Suit yourself. Maybe if your nice, Ethan will share his snacks.”

You laughed at his comment as you looked over to Ethan. He wasn’t saying anything, but you could feel the tension in the air. The only thing that came to your mind was that he was probably dying inside from not saying anything shitty to you for the last several days.

“What are you looking at?” he snapped, glancing over to you.

“There it is. I thought you were never going to be mean to me again.”

“Believe it or not, I don’t feel like I should have to speak to you,” he said, as Chad walked back in, completely missing Ethan’s comment. “Thanks, man,” he said, after Chad handed him the Cheetos.

He pressed play on the movie again, as you tried to get interested in it.

“That thing is kind of cute,” you said, pointing at the character.

“Jar Jar Binks is cute? That explains your taste in men,” Chad said, as Ethan started to laugh.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked, staring both of the boys down.

“He’s one of, if not THE, most hated Star Wars characters,” Ethan said, looking over to you. “Just like how every single guy you date is completely unlikable.”

“You don’t have to call me out like that,” you sighed, standing up to grab the blanket that was on back of the couch behind Ethan. “Can you sit up a little bit so I can grab this,” you said, tugging on the fluffy material.

“No, I’m comfortable like this,” he said, his tone playful because Chad was beside him.

“Please, I’m cold,” you whined, as he rolled his eyes and sat up.

You grabbed the blanket and snuggled back up in your spot. Ethan kept looking over to you, trying to be as discreet as possible about it. You caught his gaze, giving him a ‘What’ look, before looking back at the tv.

When the movie was over, Chad stood up. “I think I’m going to Tara’s. You guys want to come?”

“Yeah, like I want to be there while you try to put moves on my friend,” you said, as he shrugged.

“She’s cute. I can’t help it. Ethan, you coming?”

“I don’t want to be a third wheel,” he sighed, “I have stuff to work on anyway.”

“Okay, I’ll be back later,” Chad said, pulling his hoodie on.

When Chad left, Ethan got up to walk to his room.

“Hey,” you said, as he stopped and turned a little to look at you, “If you hate me so much, why did you agree to me moving in?”

“Because you can pay the rent,” he said, “Is this conversation over?”

“No, it’s not,” you stood up, as he fully turned back around. “What the fuck happened? Because you used to be nice to me. Then you started to treat me like every other guy ever has.”

“Yeah? What was that jab a few nights ago where you made me feel like a loser in front of our friends?” he started to raise his voice at you, “Because that wasn’t very nice.”

“I wanted you to know what it feels like, Ethan! You treat me like I’m stupid! You know how many times I’ve gone to my room and cried over some of the things you’ve said to me?” you were yelling at this point, the anger in his face softening as he started to feel guilty. “You used to be so sweet and caring, I miss that Ethan.”

“I couldn’t be like that anymore,” he sighed, his eyes refusing to meet yours.

You were still mad, yelling “Why?” at him as he started to walk towards you.

“Because you aren’t interested in nice guys!” he yelled back, “You always go after people that don’t treat you right, when all I’ve wanted to do this whole time is to be what you want!”

“You really are dumb,” you started to laugh, shaking your head. “You had a fucking chance, Ethan! I was interested in you. It was weird for me, and I wasn’t sure how to act because you aren’t my normal type, but that’s what made me like you!”

“How was I supposed to know that?” he said, sighing as he sat back down on the couch. “I just wanted to be what you wanted.”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but there’s something wrong with my normal ‘type’,” you laughed, sitting beside him. “In some sick, twisted way, I think it’s sweet that you wanted my attention so bad.”

“So, it worked?” he asked, cocking his head to look at you.

“I’m not going to validate you being an asshole. I want you to be yourself, that’s the Ethan I like,” you smiled at him.

“I’m sorry for making you cry before, I feel awful about that,” he said, the guilt present on his face.

“Just don’t do it again.”

“I totally ruined everything, didn’t I?” he asked, “I remember you mentioned your ex the other night. Are you going to give him another chance?”

You started to laugh as you looked at him, “Why would I do that? I mean, unless you aren’t interested in me, and this is just some sick joke.”

“No, I’m interested,” he said, leaning in to kiss you.

The kiss was sweet at first, exactly what you expected from Ethan. He started to pull away, but your head moved with his, not wanting the kiss to end. His lips kept moving as you felt his tongue brush against your bottom lip. You started to straddle him as you let him deepen the kiss, his tongue dancing against yours. When you felt him get hard through his jeans, you pulled away to look at him. His eyes were dazed as he watched you, craving more.

“You okay?” you asked, your breathing heavy.

“Yeah, can we do that again?”

You leaned back in, his hands going to your hips as you kissed him. His grip tightened a little as he started to squirm underneath of you, desperate to get a little friction. His lips moved to your jaw, before kissing down your neck. You whimpered when he found your sweet spot, his mouth attacking it so you’d keep making that sound.

Your hands were resting against the hem of his shirt, so you started to lift it to graze your fingers over his toned stomach. He followed your lead, his hands rubbing against your sides underneath your shirt. Your breath hitched in your throat as his fingertips brushed against your ribs, the tickling feeling surprising you.

“You tensed up, are you okay with this?” he mumbled against your neck.

“Mhm,” you said, removing one of your hands from his abs and putting it under his chin. He lifted his head so your mouths could connect again, as you started to grind against him.

He started to groan into the kiss, his hips moving against yours. “Do you want to do this,” you asked pulling away a little. He nodded his head as you slid off of him to unbutton his jeans.

“Wait, are we about to fuck on the couch?” he asked, as you nodded.

“Stand up,” you said, grabbing his hands. You grabbed your blanket from the other side of the couch, spreading it across the cushions. “Now we don’t have to feel guilty whenever we see Chad sitting on the couch.”

He smiled as you slid his jeans down over his hips. “I think you should let me take something off of you.”

You smiled at him as you stepped back a little, your hands at your sides as you waited for him to make a move. His hands went to your shirt, lifting it over your head. He felt like his eyes were going to pop out off his skull when he realized you didn’t have a bra on.

“You’re even more perfect up close,” he said, leaning down to take one of your nipples in his mouth.

“How many times have you thought about me almost naked since the other night?” you asked, your fingers tangling in his hair as he moved his mouth.

“So many times,” he said as he pulled away and moved to the other one. He groaned a little at the feeling of your fingers tugging on his curls.

His hands reached down to the top of your jeans, slowly unbuttoning them, and sliding them down your hips. You shimmied out of them as you slid your feet out.

As you both stood there, he leaned in to kiss you again, the tent in his boxers pressing against you.

“Do you have a condom?” you asked, as he nodded.

“Good idea,” he said, running down the hall to his room. You took the opportunity to take off your panties as you waited for him to come back. His jaw dropped when he came back and saw you standing there, completely nude. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

“It can’t happen until these come off,” you said, grabbing the waistband of his boxers and sliding them down his thighs. After he stepped out of them, you pushed him back onto the couch.

He opened the condom as he sat there, rolling it on his hard cock. You really started to look at his size, nervous that it wouldn’t fit inside of you. His hands reached out, grabbing yours to pull you back on his lap. You kissed him as you grabbed his erection and lined it up with your soaked core.

“Oh fuck,” you whined, sinking down onto him. You sat in place as you kept kissing him, giving yourself enough time to adjust to the pressure as he stretched your walls.

When you started to roll your hips, his hands held onto them. “God, this feels amazing,” he said, loving the feeling of you around him. “You’re so tight.”

As you started to bounce on him, his thrusts started to meet yours. You kept making eye contact with him as his mouth started to fall open, faint moans slipping past his lips.

“That’s so hot,” you moaned, as he looked at you, trying to understand what you meant. “You can be as vocal as you want, baby. I love it.”

His heart melted as you called him ‘baby’, loving the sound of it. He started to get a little louder, letting you know exactly how good he was feeling.

“Rub my clit,” you whimpered, as your hands went to his shoulders to stabilize yourself so you could move faster.

His fingers started to rub circles against the sensitive bundle of nerves, the whines flying out of your mouth echoing off the walls. “Fuck, that feels so good.”

His fingers soon sped up as your moaning got higher. “Yes yes yes,” you cried out, that euphoric feeling so close to taking over your body, “I’m gonna cum.”

Your pussy started to flutter around him as your body started to tense up. He kept thrusting up into you, so close to his own orgasm. “Shit, gonna cum,” he groaned out, his hand leaving your clit and going back to your hip as he pounded into you. “Fuuuuck.”

He let out a long, shaky breath as he released into the condom. Your body relaxed against his as his hands rubbed your back. “You okay, baby?” he asked, as you nodded against his shoulder.

You laid there for a few more minutes, just enjoying his arms around you. “You want to take a shower?” you asked your fingers rubbing across his chest.

“I’d love to.”

When you were in the shower with Ethan, he was so sweet and caring. As he ran the soapy loofah across your back, you started to tear up a little. No one had ever done anything like this for you. Any other guy you’d showered with expected round two, but Ethan just wanted to take care of you.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said, as you stood under the water, the suds washing off your body.

“Stop. You keep saying stuff like that, you’re going to make me fall for you,” you laughed, as he laced his fingers with yours.

“You promise? Because you’re so amazing, and so perfect,” he said, and you knew he meant every word he was saying.

After the shower, you grabbed the blanket off the couch and threw it in the washer, before starting it. It would’ve made no sense to put the blanket down if you were just going to leave it there. Ethan walked up behind you, wrapping his hands around your waist. “You’re still naked.”

“You are, too,” you said, turning to face him. “I want to cuddle tonight. Your bed or mine?”

“Let’s grab your clothes and lay in mine. You have no idea how many times I’ve thought about you in my bed,” he said, leaning in to kiss you.

“Okay, let’s go before Chad comes home and sees us naked,” you giggled, pulling away from him to run down the hall.

The next morning, you woke up with your head on Ethan’s chest and his arms wrapped around you. You sat up a little, your tired eyes connecting with his as he opened them.

“You look so cute first thing in the morning,” he said, sitting up too.

“I’m starving,” you said, running your hand through your hair as you attempted to tame the bed head.

“I could take you out to breakfast, if you’d like to.”

“I’d like that,” you said softly, leaning in to peck his lips.

You bumped into Chad in the hallway as you both walked out of Ethan’s room.

“Uh…okay,” he said, as you started to laugh. “Was I right about the love connection?” His fake accent was back as you rolled your eyes.

“You’re so annoying,” you mumbled, walking into your room to change.

When your door closed, Chad whisper-yelled, “Yessss dude I’m so proud of you! You’ve been crushing on her forever.”

“It’s a long story, but I’m so excited that she’ll know how it feels to be treated right.”

Chad and Ethan started to do a little happy dance as you walked out of your room, both of them stopping as you smirked.

“You ready to go?” you asked, reaching out to grab Ethan’s hand.

“Yeah, I’m starving.”

[wolfpants]

hd-wireless reveal | how to begin

@hd-wireless reveals are here! Thank you so much to the mods for putting on another banger of a fest, to my readers and betas, @citrusses @hoko-onchi-writes @getawayfox for being absolutely amazing, and to everyone who has engaged with the fic so far! I can't wait to reply to all of your amazing comments 🥲❤️

How to Begin | 8.4k

Tags: EWE, Post-Hogwarts, POV Harry, Minor Background Relationships, Roommates to lovers, Friends to Lovers, 2000s technology, Harry has a flip phone, Drinking, House Party, Harry Potter is Obsessed with Draco Malfoy, Pining, Smoking, Hook-Up, Drunk Sex, Bad Sex, Better Sex, Impotence, Frottage, Dirty Talk, Face Slapping, Minor Injuries, Non-graphic vomiting, Hand Jobs, Anal Fingering, Riding, Anal Sex, Masturbation

Harry is completely, pathetically besotted with his flatmate, Draco. Fuelled by liquid courage, he finally makes his move when he's absolutely sozzled. What could possibly go wrong?

“Har-ry,” Draco says slowly. “Harry,” he says again, his mouth twisting into the sneer he uses when he’s about to do or say something horrible. Harry groans, willing his cock to pay attention. “Harry. Did you play with yourself earlier? Is that where you disappeared off to?” “Maybe,” Harry says. Draco grins. “I’m flattered.” Harry frowns and slurs, “Who says it was about you?” Draco looks at him dryly. Harry flushes, pushing his hands back onto Draco’s hips. He shifts beneath him, dragging him closer. Draco smirks and tugs his hand free from Harry’s pants, sliding down until his elbows are on the mattress, bracketing Harry’s head. His breath is hot. Wine-y. “Tell me what you thought about, you little creep.”

read on ao3

[think-like-a-poet]

emei with that girl where r is trying to be like an ex-girlfriend or maybe trying to make the fans criticize her less with charles, carlos or maybe oscar

A/N: I made this partly a SMAU, hope that's okay.

Song x driver masterlist

~That girl, with the perfect hair

And that girl, doesn't really care

And somehow everything goes right for

That girl, that girl, wanna be that girl~

You sign as you read the tweets Why couldn't they like you? Why couldn't you be more like her?

" What is it?" Kika asked as she sees your sad face. You just came back from a double date with her and Pierre and it was such a nice evening.

You try to put your phone away, " nothing."

She looks at you before grabbing the phone from your hand and reading the tweets. The smile on her face drops and you try to not meet her gace. " Honey, don't pay attention to those. People don't know what they are talling about. You are great and Charles likes you for how you are." She says, giving you a hug.

" I don't know. I try to hust ignore it, but evertime I open social Media or post, they say that she is so much better. I can't help but agree."

" Understandble, but you don't have to make them like you. If the are fans of Charles, they would love you too." She says, putting a strand of hair behind your ear. " You wantrd to post it. Post it. Don't pay attention to the comments."

You smile at Kika as she hands you your phone.

Tagged: Charlesleclerc, kikagomez and PierreGasly

Liked by: kikagomez,charlesleclerc, pierregasly and 8.824 others

yourusername: Dubble date night. Ps: never play bowling with Pierre, he sucks.

Username 1: that looks so fun

Charlesleclerc: ❤️❤️❤️

Yourusername: love you

Charlesleclerc: What is going on in the 4 photo

Kikagomez: I proposed

Yourusername: I said yes

Pierregasly:😑🥲🤨

Username5: HAHAHAHAH

Username3: Of course she post this. We aint liking it girl

Kikagomez: my beautifull wife

Charlesleclerc: I object

Kikagomez: 😪😢

Username8: why are you even here?

Pierregasly: what did I do for this slander?!?

Username9: those pizza's look so nice. Can I ask how you made them?

Yourusername: i sent you a dm

Username2: gold digger

Load more comments.

...

The next morning you wake up in a empty bed. Charles is out for a run and you were playing on doing some shopping.

You get out of bed and grab your phone. As you open instagram you are faced with a new post of her.

Liked by: iamrebeccad and 50 827 others

Ex!username: early morning Fitness

User81: you are so beautiful

Ussr92: I could never

User91: why did Charles break up with you

Iamrebeccad: Love it

EX!username: We should do it together sometime.

Iamrebeccad: thats a good idea

User12: can I have thw recipe for that salad

User61: really that girl

You sigh. She is so prefect. Her perfect body her perfect hair. You never saw it tangled or messy. How does she have the perfect life?

You flip through your galary, trying to find some of the same photos. Maybe they like you if you act like her.

Liked by: kikagomez, Pascale leclerc and 2.792 others

Your username: going on a morning stroll

User91: This looks familiar

User991: girl, you aint slick

Username1: Love those fruit water drinks

User97: copy cat

Username71: you accept you never be her

Kikagomez: what a beautiful girl

Yourusername: Have you looked in the nirror🩷🩷

Pascale leclerc: can you give me the recipe for the salad. It looks really delicious.

Yourusername: Of course. I text it to you

.

You step outside the apartment, ready for a nice little shopping. You wants to get coffee first, so you stepped into your car and drove of.

The music came through the radio, singing the words to it.

It didn't take long to reach the shop and you parked the car and walked inside.

" good morning, how can I help you?"

" Can I get a cappuccino and a breakfast buritto," you order and the cahier types it into the computer.

She smiles" that wil be 5.50"

You put your card against the device, but it lets out a noise. You cashier looks at you, " i am sorry but it declined. Do you have different card."

You look confused at your card as you tey again, " let me call my boyfriend real quick." You say as you grab your phone, but to your suprise it is empty. You let out a sigh, " just, cancel my order. Sorry, for the inconvience." You walk away emberrased, bot wanting to be here any longer.

You ran to your car, tripping over a lose stone. As you see the car, the mirror is demaged and tears statted to form in your eyes. It couldn't get any worse. You start the engine and drive of.

.

As you come back home, you ran to the bathroom and slide against the wall, more tears coming down your face.

You didn't hear the door opening, signaling Charles is back from his run. He called your name but didn't get an answer. He walked upstairs to look for you, begore hearing your cries.

"Hey, what happened? Are you okay?" Charles asked worried as he knelt down next to you, taking you in his arms. Your cheeks were stained with mascara and your eyes were puffy.

You cried on his shoulder, not wanting Charles to see you, as his hand went carefully through your hair, trying to calm you down.

"Why do you like me?" you snick out. Charles looks confused at your question. He grabs your face and looks at you, "what do you mean. Why do I like you?"

He traces his fingers under your eyes to wipe the tears away, "Why do you like me. All those other girls are so pretty and productive, and I am just me." You explain with your hands.

Charles heart aches at your thoughts of not being good enough, he hates that people intertwine with his personal life. He had seen the tweets and comments about you not being to same as his ex's but he didn't know that you believed those.

"You are not 'just' you, you are you and that is perfect. I couldn't ask for anything more, mon Cherie. You are perfect as you are and don´ t need to change a thing. Those people need to learn and shut their mouths if they don't like it." Charles started to explain. He wanted to show you how much he loves you, but right now wasn't the time for that. He took you back in his arms, placing a kiss on your head

"Please, believe me. I wouldn't want you to change, there is a reason that I fell in love with you, because of who you are. Not who I want you to be."

You started at him when those words came out, not knowing what to respond. "You mean that?"

"Of course i do. With whole my heart."

"Lets get you a warm bath," He stood up and held his arms out for you to grab. He walked to the bath and let the water run. You really needed this.

[divinelolita]

nah cuz i jus thought of smth..

kaulitz twins(together headcannons or full fic the amount of fucks i give are not even close to one) when their bf asks if they love him jus out of the blue like they could just be sitting down together and he jus asks the question not even lookin at em😪✌🏾

and ofc they finna be like duh why tf is wrong with u😀 this mf prolly says nvm and tries to shove it off as if its nothing like bro🧍🏾

HA not me thinking of tom panicking and heading to his phone deleting every contact(he ain't cheating or anything hes jus mad worried)😔🤞🏾

NO AND BILL THINKING HES NOT LOVING ENOUGH STOPPPPP ugh😞😞

u can add more if u wish man🥲🥲

KAULITZ TWINS X READER: LOVE

I WAS GNA MAKE THIS SAD BUT I FEEL LIKE I'VE DONE TOO MANY SAD THINGS RECENTLY

"Ah, here we go!"

Bill grinned excitedly as Tom placed a plate of pancakes infront of him, drenched in maple syrup and a slab of butter on top. Tom smiled at his brother, then at you as he placed your own plate of food infront of you.

"You better eat that. Do you know how long it took to make?" Tom joked, sitting down next to you as he took a sip of his orange juice, gagging slightly as he nearly spit back into his cup. "Bill what the fuck! I told you no pulp!" he chocked, coughing as he shivered dramatically.

Bill rolled his eyes as he stabbed at his pancake, glancing at Tom with an annoyed look. "There's nothing wrong with pulp,'ya baby." he muttered, laughing quietly as he watched Tom gag, face all scrunched up. "Pulp is nasty as fuck! Right, M/N?" Tom asked, looking at you with a quirked eyebrow. Bill also looked over, biting into a strawberry.

"I don't mind it." You shrugged, giggling as Tom's jaw dropped, hanging low. Bill let out a triumphic laugh, taking a big gulp of his own orange juice. "I can't believe you betrayed me like this.." Tom sniffled, dramatically wiping away a fake tear from his eye.

The room was filled with the occasional "mmh.." when one of you tasted something good, or the clatter of glasses when you would put your orange juice down. The occasional scrape of the forks against the plates would sound commonly. It was..nice. The silence was comfortable, or at least for the twins.

For you? It seemed weird and strange. You felt as if..as if it was empty in here. You knew they were at ease, everything was fine but you just couldn't help but ask..

"Do you guys love me?"

You asked quietly, taking another bite of your food after stabbing it with your fork. Ah, now the table was uncomfortably quiet. Tom's hand stopped in mid air where he was going to take a bite of his bacon and Bill looked up from his plate, looking at you with concern.

"What?" Tom asked quietly, feeling his heartbeat pick up and his hands become suddenly too sweaty to hold his fork. He glanced over to Bill, but Bills eyes stayed on you, his mouth open yet no words could come through. You shrugged, glancing at both of then before taking another sip of your orange juice.

"Eh, 's nothing." You respond, taking the last bite of food and smiling as your taste buds rejoiced in the flavour. Really, Tom was a fantastic cook! Too bad most of the pancakes he flipped landed on the ceiling...

"Want me to take anything back to the kitchen?" You asked, grabbing your empty plate and utensils. They could only shake their head, Bill forcing a small "No thanks, babe." You nodded and headed off to the kitchen, placing the items in the sink. You turned the water on, grabbed the sponge, and whistled to yourself as you began to scrub the crumbs and sticky syrup off.

---

As soon as you left, Bill turned to Tom quickly, eyes big and wide. "Did you do something?" he whispered, poking his older twin in the shoulder with his fork. Tom hissed in response, swatting Bills hand away. "Why do you think I did something? What did you do?"

Bill immediately shook his head from side to side, becoming defensive. "I didn't do jack shit!" The air between them was quiet, before Bill asked under his breath, "Did you like, text someone else..?"

Tom's heart dropped, his legs felt numb and his phone in his pocket felt 10 times more heavy. "I mean.. I didn't text them." he said sheepishly, rubbing the bath of his neck. Bill raised an eyebrow, scorching over closer. "Who's 'them'?" he asked, tilting his head in confusion.

Tom hesitantly pulled out his phone, going to his contact list. Bill gasped jokingly, scrolling through what seemed to be hundreds of people. "Holy shit.." he giggled, not being able to contain himself. He yelped as his brother hit him rather harshly on the arm. "Help me out here, Bill. He's my boyfriend too."

Bill sighed, resting his head on Tom's shoulder as they scrolled through each contact.

"Who's Stacy?" Bill asked, saying one of the many contacts that had a girls name.

"I dunno, some girl from a concert." Tom responded, clicking on her contact. There was no profile picture, no notes, nothing.

"Yeah...no. Delete her."

And so Tom did. Girl after girl. To the point where he only had around 20 contacts left.

---

You hummed a song under your voice as you placed your now clean dishes back onto the dish rack to dry. Drying off your hands, you walked back to the dining room. You smiled softly at the twins, taking their plates aswell as their cups and utensils with you. Before yo could walk through the doorway, Bill yelped a small "Wait!"

You turned on your heel, looking at him with confused eyes as you leaned against the doorway, clinking your nails against the plates. "...Yes?" you ask slowly, smiling softly as you saw how he turned slightly red, leaning towards Tom. Tom sighed, looking up at you from his seat as he fidgeted with his dreads.

"I just..you know we love you so fuckin' much, right..?" he questioned quietly. You chuckled quietly, it was cute how they seemed slightly worried and almost cautious to ask the question.

"Yes, of course I do." You answer, flashing a grin that they quickly returned, smiles identical.

It was the happiest you've ever seen them.

[avocado-writing]

Hey 👋🏻 i just finished rewatching both seasons of good omens 🥲 can i request an ineffable husbands x r with an established relationship? after a night out they go back to the bookshop and r is pissed drunk so aziraphale and crowley tries to help them get comfortable and get settled but r keeps saying “back off i have partners.” and things like that because they’re too drunk to recognize the two which amuses them both. i read something similar online and thought it would be funny with the husbands. thank you so much ❤️

notes: put this once again in tltdatsib, hope that's ok! also yall: anyway nightingale is drunk / me: YES lmfao

pairing: crowley x reader x aziraphale

rating: T

notes: excessive alcohol consumption; gn reader but one reference to them being a primadonna; tltdatsib-verse

You’re all quite drunk.

The three of you are all impartial to a glass of wine or six after a nice day. Usually you can hold your liquor quite well, but you underestimated the vintage, and now you’re absolutely off your face. Crowley and Aziraphale are happy to sober up the miraculous way, the alcohol returning to its bottle, but you absolutely despise it happening to you and they’d never do it without your permission. So there you are, head-lollingly, body-flailingly drunk on the sofa in the back of the bookshop.

“Come on love, let’s get you to bed,” Crowley says, attempting to heave you into his arms. You push him away and make a low noise in the back of his throat. 

“Did… did you just growl at me?” he asks, both delighted and bemused; torn between actually trying to help you or recording this on his phone so that he can tease you mercilessly tomorrow. 

"My love - " begins Aziraphale, but you glare at him the best you can while barely being able to hold your head up.

“Oi! Back ‘ff sunshine,” you say, holding your hand up and wiggling your fingers, “‘m married! My husbands—spousesssss—won’t be too happy ‘f you chat me up!”

Aziraphale and Crowley exchange a look. You’ve not been this drunk since the three of you were invited to the Diamond Dogs release party in the seventies. Your hangover had lasted a week. 

“Darling,” says Aziraphale with a patient sigh, “we’re your husbands… spouses… oh, look, it’s us!”

"No-oo-oo! Lies! Won't be taken in by handsome strangerssss!" you cry, a primadonna of a show only you can see. You try to launch yourself across the couch for safety but get your foot stuck between two seat cushions.

"'Handsome', eh?" Crowely asks, grinning very wide indeed.

"Yessss, handsome! Very! But 'm TAKEN."

Aziraphale sighs, both wanting this charade to be over and charmed that even when you're too blotto to recognise them, you still find your husbands attractive.

"Look, let me show you proof, darling."

You squint, suspiciously. 

“Eh?”

Aziraphale reaches into his coat pocket to bring out his wallet. It has no cards or cash, nothing that one would actually need a wallet for - but he keeps it for one very particular reason. 

He flips open the leather and holds it out for you to inspect. It has a photo in it: a polaroid, taken for you by a kind passerby on the day of your wedding. It’s of the three of you, arms around each other, all smiling the widest in any photo where you are the subjects. You take it from his hands, scrutinise it, then cringe.

“Oh god, ‘m ‘n idiot…”

You collapse back into the sofa, letting your arm remain in its place so Aziraphale can take the precious wallet back safely. 

"It's alright nightingale. You're just a bit tipsy is all, my love."

"You're so kind to me even when 'm bein' silly..."

"For better for worse. For drunker, for sober...er," Crowley reasons.

“Should go t’ sleep…” you mutter, and before they can help you up, you turn over to face the pile of pillows and immediately make good on that threat. They cover you with a blanket, and Crowley does tease you the next morning.

-

@angiestopit @foolishprincipalitee @smile-eywa @staygoldsquatchling02 @underratedboogeyman @specter-soltare @candlewitch-cryptic @cool-ontherun-world @emilynissangtr @willbedecided @bdffkierenwalker @cool-iguana @ilyatan @civil-groupie @willyoubethepookietomypookster @lxsm2 @clarina04 @wtfhasmy-lifecometo @mrgatotortuga @wereallbrokenangels @night-affiliate @silcosmoke @kimqueenofhell @chewbrry @bajablast23 @h3k3t @am-i-obsessed---maybe @bakerstreethound

[wonderlilane]

omg i just found out there were jp-only harvest moon games released for flip phones in the late 00's and they had mostly unique casts?? 😭 look at these they're so cute 🥺

but of course bc they were obscure live-service games there's a 99.999% chance we'll never ever get to actually play these games again or see these characters in any other way 🥲

[mellowquint]

Fanbinding Masters of Mayhem - a Ninjago and Lego Monkie kid crossover!!!

FINALLY after weeks of putting the project on the shelf i finally have the (motivation) free time to complete this amazing bookbind!!! Shoutout to my best friend who came to me and ask if i could bind it. So what better birthday gift than to bind her current favourite crossover story? At the time of this post i have not given the gift to her yet so fingers crossed that she likes this 🤞😖

Thank you FictionForLife_NZ for creating this absolute hilarious masterpiece!! I have been wanting to read an LMK crossover fic for the longest time and low and behold, the ao3 algorithm has answered my prayers lol. Me and best friend really love the character interaction that the Ninja’s have with the LMK crew 😂. Also the shipping!! Best friend absolutely LOVES dragonfruit but was sad that they didn’t have as much of a fandom dedication as opposed to spicynoodles. So imagine her suprised (and scream) that dragonfruit is the main pairing in the story and their many iconic moments together!! Also the climax truly had me at the edge of my seat!! And that ending?? Gosh couldn’t have asked it better myself Ninjago writers really should take notes ✍️!!! Anyways enough rambling here’s the fic if you would like to give a read, absolute 10/10

Flip through

Some close ups

also yes excuse me and my terrible phone and room lighting it did not do this book justice.

Unfortunately I couldn’t find any fanart that was related/tagged so there was no illustrations for the book. However thats when i had the idea of making the chapter title in the same font as the Ninjago font! To make it seem like every new chapter is an episode!

Also unfortunately couldn’t tag the author since i can’t find their tumblr. If any of you know if said author does have tumblr please let me know!

If you’re all curious on how i make this, i recommend going to the first bookbinding project that i did, its all the same process except with some new improvements that im gonna talk about under the cut

I definitely learned a lot from my mistakes from the last time that i did this, and of course gain new mistakes as well 🥲.

The edges aren’t trimmed

The cover isn’t aligned

The printing for the covers are garbage

Book would not lay flat, instead forever stuck at a weird 120 degree angle

Overall a lot of stuff

This was a given by the fact that i have no experience and was impatient. But since this is a gift for Best Friend ofc this has to actually look good, so here are the improvements that i made

Signature printing— i will admit it took some time and effort but after the old cannon printer finally died permanently jammed, managed to convince parents to buy a more advanced and better printer that can now do double sided printing!! No more wasted signatures from here on out 😮‍💨

Cover printing — not wanting a repeat of the last time that i did it i went to my local Officeworks to get it printed by them. Here i discovered the beauty that is known as ✨Poster Prints✨. Now all of my yellow lines and elements actually do show an pop against the darker background!! Unfortunately this does have a drawback because the prints are sensitive to any type of scratching. Not the scratch and all the colors come off way, more like the scratch it and lines will show up kind of way as you can really see in the front cover :') . Will work on improving this is future projects.

Trimming the edges — originally in book one i trimmed the edges using your typical box cutter and cut it myself. Bad BAD idea i was doomed at that moment. So imagine my surprise the Officeworks ALSO do CUTTING service!!! My jaw dropped and i immediately went back the next day with my text block and asked them if they could trim all edges. After some inspection they put it through the guillotine and all of my edges are perfectly trimmed. Saved me all the time, money, and storage.

Laying book flat — this was definitely the biggest pet peeve that I have with my first book. The way i do it now is i now put a one cm gap between the front cover, side cover and back cover. And also using the right paper (cardstock) to connect the text block with the covers. Now the book can actually fully open!!!

Cover alignment — I printed out the front and back in regular paper and use that as a template on where i wanna fold the prints to find the cover. Worked like a charm

once again shoutout to best friend for giving me the brilliant idea when making the covers!! had it not been for her to point out about clause's book of spells i would have never made the coolest cover page that I've made in my entire binding experience!! all in all im pretty dang proud of myself for being able to improve on my bookbinding skill.

[perhaps-in-anotherdream]

[CN] Victor’s Nostalgic Memories Date (Eng Translation)

“You’re my first.”

“You’re my first, too.”

⌚Warning⌚ This post contains detailed spoilers for a date, 旧忆之约, that is yet to be released on the global server! ♡

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

─  

【Subbed Video】    

[Heads-up]: Read the transcript for reading, but  PLEASE DO WATCH THE VIDEO!! THE BGMS, THE VOICE ACTING, EVERYTHING!! (also, yes, I’ve made my real-time reactions 🤪)

───────

【Transcript Version】

【Chapter 1】

Not long ago, Victor received a commemorative book.

The sender is his alma mater, Loveland Central Elementary School, which is about to celebrate its 100th anniversary.

The book is filled with old photos of his school. With unending excitement, I relentlessly search for that familiar figure among them.

Little Victor holding up his award certificates with a composed demeanor, hoisting the national flag with aplomb, or standing on the winner’s podium during the sports meet… all these are images of him I haven’t seen before.

MC: Model student, flag-raiser, long-distance running gold medalist… how many more surprises does this man have in store that I still don’t know about?

?? (Victor): What are you muttering to yourself this time?

I look up and find that Victor has entered the bedroom without me noticing.

MC: I can’t help but feel sentimental~ After all, you were that “kid from someone else’s family” when we were little.

–

[Tidbits]: The term MC uses here is “别人家的小孩,” I guess you’ll understand this better if you are an Asian/ of Asian descendance/ have Asian parents LOL; it’s often used to describe how parents spur their own kids into working harder by often mentioning “the other kid” as a role model who usually excels in many aspects~ :> And MC playfully follows this with– he belongs to her/ they’re a family now. So, she can take pride that “the prized boy” is all hers 🤣💕 (aside from the obvious knife about MC being regretful of missing out on each other’s lives, which comes later~ 🥲)

–

Victor: Someone else’s family?

Watching his cool and collected expression as he arches an eyebrow, I cheekily walk up to him.

MC: Hehe, but now you’re mine~

As I notice him smiling slightly, I can’t help but be insatiable and pull him along to join me in flipping through the photo album.

We have just flipped through a few photos of the “Campus Singing Competition” when the person beside me seems to have seen something, causing his pupils to quiver ever so slightly.

Following his gaze, I catch a glimpse of a young kid with dramatic stage makeup, sporting a red dot on the space between his brows.

Before I can take a closer look, the commemorative book in front of me is abruptly snapped shut.

MC: Wait!

Hastily, I clutch his hand down and carefully inspect the photo. There is actually a small caption below it that reads–– “Little Victor, photographed by Dad”

Astounded, I snatch the book and examine it closely–– the child’s solemn expression, with furrowed brows, is unmistakably identical to that of a certain someone I know so well.

I stare at Victor in utter disbelief, while he seems to have already resigned himself and closed his eyes.

MC: Hahahaha–– you’re so cute, hahaha!

Victor: …stop laughing, give me back the book.

MC: Alright, but you have to agree to one condition of mine.

Victor: ...you sure know how to make demands.

MC: Don’t want to agree? Well, then I might just turn you into an emoji pack, huh?

Victor takes a deep breath as if he has reached the limit of his patience. He then takes out his phone, quickly taps on the screen, and holds it to his ear.

Victor: I had planned to bring a certain someone along to visit the school when I’d sign the contract to donate to the school building.

Victor: But since the photos seem enough to satisfy you, I think I’m gonna talk to the school about reducing your title to a colleague.

Hearing his words, I immediately grab his arm, displaying a sincere expression.

MC: Why didn’t you tell me about the building donation before? I’m not laughing anymore, I promise!

He arches an eyebrow and moves his phone a few inches away, as if waiting for me to offer a bigger bargaining chip.

I narrow my eyes and steel myself.

MC: I’ll give you three of my embarrassing childhood photos!

Victor: Deal.

Hearing a muffled chuckle in my ears, I suddenly realize what’s going on. I seize his phone and, sure enough, find that the screen is still locked.

MC: …you’re so childish, Victor!

Despite my reproach, he remains composed and raps my head.

Victor: He who touches ink becomes black, you know?

—

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

—

【Chapter 2】

Victor: …wish strips?

An old metal box is gently placed on the table, inside of which is stacked with many pieces of weathered papers, tinged with a yellow hue.

After the completion of the donation contract signing, only three people remain in the empty conference room— the two of us and the principal.

Principal: When I learned that you were coming back, I inquired with your homeroom teacher about anything that might have been left behind from back then, and she really found it.

Even as I try hard to focus my attention on their conversation, an inevitably innate urge drives me to reach out and flip through the wish strips with my fingers, looking for a certain one.

Soon, a weathered piece of paper catches my eyes, with meticulously and neatly penned six letters that form the name “Victor.”

However, before I can reach my hand for it, a large hand with slender fingers lands on top of the paper––

Forced by the seriousness of the atmosphere we are in now, I can do nothing but watch helplessly as Victor nonchalantly slips the note into his pocket.

Victor: If there’s anything else you need help with in the future, please feel free to contact me again.

Principal: Thank you, Little Vic. Despite your remarkable achievements in the outside world, you still haven’t forgotten your alma mater.

–

[Tidbits]: I’m freaking crying, haha–– look at his Principal still calling this grown-ass man “小李 (Xiao Li)” aksdknld– the sheer adoration you can’t let go of despite the admiration a person has achieved from you– 🥺 

–

Victor: You’re too kind. On a different note, I wish to take my girlfriend on a tour of the school later. I wonder if it would be convenient?

Principal: Absolutely! You two are welcome to wander around and have a good time.

–

It’s summer vacation, and the campus is absolutely empty.

The continuous symphony of cicadas seems to transport me through countless summers, carrying me to the past that belongs to him.

Hand in hand, we walk beneath the shade of the sycamore tree, retracing the journey captured in old photos, from the faintly plastic-scented crimson athletic track to the library, and eventually arriving at his former classroom.

–

MC: Where would you sit back then?

Seeing him pointing to a seat in the back row, I press against the window frame and peer inside, yearning to glimpse that small figure across the boundaries of time and space.

MC: Do you have any special memory from your elementary school days?

Victor: What do you mean by special?

MC: Copying homework? Not paying attention in class? Or maybe… puppy love?

It seems like he’s heard something that displeased him; a slight frown creeps onto his face, and he gives me a subtle, scrutinizing look.

Victor: [strikes immediately LMFAO]  Your elementary school life was this eventful and colorful? It seems like I underestimated you a little.

MC: Of course not; I didn’t do anything of the sort! I’m just simply curious about your school life~

Victor: It was like any regular elementary school student’s life–– attending classes, doing homework after school, and occasionally playing soccer. Nothing out of the ordinary–– 

Suddenly, the sound of a series of brisk footsteps interrupts his words. Before long, two kids carrying backpacks appear at the far end of our sight.

Little Boy: Did you check? If you forget to bring your homework again, I won’t come with you next time.

Little Girl: I’ve really brought it this time! Where should we go to do our homework today?

Little Boy: The library.

Little Girl: But we need to stay quiet in the library, and I won’t be able to talk with you there.

Little Boy: …let’s go to the burger joint then.

Watching their departing figures from behind, I tug at the corner of Victor’s clothes.

MC: Have you ever done homework together with other kids?

Victor: Might have done some group assignments at some point.

MC: With you sitting next to them, their study efficiency must have gotten a massive boost. I’m really envious of those classmates who had the chance to do homework with you…

Hearing me say this, Victor’s face takes on a curious and contemplative expression.

Victor: Don’t be envious. I’ve got an idea.

MC: What do you have in mind?

Victor: It just so happens that I have to work tonight. You can bring in your unfinished proposal, and we can “do homework” together.

MC: …I’ll pass. Even a dummy can tell the difference between a friendly invitation and being supervised by a capitalist.

As we are talking, I see the kids from earlier run out of the convenience store in front of the school gate.

With delight on their faces, they share a pack of crisp instant noodles. The savory and crispy aroma from afar feels as if it reaches the tip of my teeth as well.

Just like me, Victor turns his head toward the source of the noise. Upon seeing his reaction, I immediately reach out and take his hand.

MC: Wanna go to the convenience store? It’s my treat!

—

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

—

【Chapter 3】

The store is not big, but it boasts a diverse selection of snacks arranged on the shelves.

However, my eyes are drawn to a seemingly ordinary pack of candy tucked away in the corner. Memories of my elementary school days rush back, when this candy was all the rage for playing pranks, and I also couldn’t resist tasting it once myself––

Even at this very moment, the fast secretion of saliva in my mouth is a vivid reminder of its “special” flavor.

Filled with curiosity, I pick up the candy and shake it at Victor.

MC: This candy used to be so popular back in the day. Have you ever tried it?

Victor: Nope, I haven’t.

MC: Your childhood is missing just a little something, then.

Victor: If being a glutton is your yardstick, you probably had the most complete childhood in the whole world.

Listening to his playful banter, I silently make up my mind to tease him a little. I grab the candy and settle the bill.

Just imagining the look on his face when he tastes the sourness makes me involuntarily curl my lips into a smile. However, realizing that his gaze is fixed on my face, I hasten to temper my smile.

MC: Victor, may I fill in the missing pieces of your childhood?

Victor: No need.

Ignoring his attempt to decline with a shake of his head, I affectionately bring a candy close to his lips.

MC: Come on, give me some face! I never asked any boy students out for snacks back when I was in school. You’re my first.

Upon hearing my words, his motions pause momentarily, and he stares at me fixedly with downcast eyes.

Just when I think he’s going to reject me again, he softly lets his lips part, lowers his head, and eats the candy from my hand.

I instantly widen my eyes, not wanting to miss any nuance of his expression. But all I see him is chewing the candy nonchalantly without any changes in his demeanor.

This isn’t right… could they have changed the recipe? Puzzled, I pop a candy into my mouth, but as soon as it touches my tongue, I grimace from the sourness.

MC: Sss! So sour!

Victor seems to can’t hold back and bursts into laughter.

Victor: Mmm, it’s indeed sour.

MC: You did that on purpose!

As my indignant glare meets his eyes, he arches an eyebrow in response.

Victor: You sure have a talent for turning the tables. But speaking of doing it on purpose—

Victor: Back when I was in school, I never teased or played with any girl students, either. You’re my first, too.

The candy in my mouth still gives rise to an unending stream of sourness, yet I can distinctly taste a sweet flavor.

Victor: So happy that you’re in a silly daze?

Upon hearing his teasing, I  realize I’ve been rooted to the spot and giggling like a silly person this whole time. I quickly pretend to be composed and divert the topic.

MC: I was thinking that we visited all the locations where each of the old photos was taken, except for one that slipped through the cracks!

MC: Where was that adorable picture of you with the red dot between your brows taken?

Victor: Why do you always apply your surplus obsession in places where it’s not necessary?

MC: Humph, it took me so much effort to get you to bring me here. Even if I have to dig the school three feet deep today, I’ll definitely find it!

Seeing me steadfastly staring at him, he lets out a sigh and helplessly takes my hand.

Victor: My alma mater had to spend so much effort to reach the lifespan of a hundred years. I’m not letting it be dug up by you.

—

We’re obviously supposed to be searching for the location of the photo. However, Victor brings me back to his old family home, which is currently empty.

Before I can even ask anything, my gaze is captivated by a rather extravagant box of jewelry on the foyer table.

As I let out a small gasp of surprise, Victor also glances over, and his expression turns somewhat speechless.

Victor: Aunt Grace purchased these during her trip abroad. She said you might get tired of seeing me in formal attire, so I should occasionally change things up…

MC: Pfftt! Why didn’t she just send them to you directly?

Victor: Because I declined. She probably planned to take a roundabout approach and ask my dad for help.

MC: Well, that works out perfectly. There’s no need to bother Uncle.

I “obligingly” pat my chest as an expression of “taking responsibility” and put the ornaments in my bag.

MC: But you didn’t especially bring me here just to pick this up, right?

Victor shoots me a wordless glance and then points toward the flower house ahead.

–

Victor: Not just the head is slow, the eyes are slow too.

MC: Hey, you meanie…

After a few seconds, I’m suddenly taken aback, my eyes widening. I pull out the photo from the commemorative book and compare it to the flower house before my eyes. To my surprise, it turns out to be exactly the same.

MC: This photo was actually taken at home?

Victor: After I came back from the performance, the teacher notified us that we needed to take a photo.

MC: But I thought you would remove your makeup right after the performance!

Victor: You’re right. I did wipe it off as soon as I got off the stage. But my dad deliberately used a red seal ink paste to reapply that dot.

Seeing the awkward look on his face, I can’t resist the urge to tease him and fish out the lipstick from my bag.

MC: How is it fair if you just make do with a red seal ink paste? Since the other kids have it on, you should too.

Victor: …I should not have told you.

He firmly grasps my unruly hand, but I use my left hand to snatch the lipstick and persistently keep inching closer to him. At this point, I’m practically draped onto his body.

Just as the lipstick is about to touch his forehead, he suddenly looks behind me.

Victor: Dad, you’re back.

I jump off him in a panic, and with my eyes closed, I immediately bow towards the entrance.

MC: Hello, Uncle!

After waiting for quite a considerable amount of time without any response, I’m beginning to feel slightly puzzled when I hear a soft chuckle from above me.

Victor: Turns out that there are still ways to restrain a certain someone’s out-of-control unruliness.

I raise my head and see that there is no one at the entrance.

Seeing the smirk of triumph in his eyes, I let out a “humph” and decide to turn the tables against him. At this moment, I coincidentally spot the wish strip peeking out from his pocket because of our earlier playful fooling around.

But he’s guessed my intentions, and almost simultaneously, he presses his fingertips on the slip of paper along with me. This results in a brief standoff as neither of us releases our hold.

The silent confrontation lasts for a few seconds until I pout, and that’s when I hear him let out a resigned sigh of compromise. I finally have my wish fulfilled and get my hands on his wish strip.

The paper has already yellowed and become brittle, but the carefully and neatly written words haven’t faded even a bit during the overlong passage of time––

“I want to grow up fast so that I can find her.”

Caught off guard by intruding into the “secret” of his past, I somehow feel a mixture of indescribable emotions flooding my heart.

How come he never mentioned to me that he had such a wish before? I can’t help but lift my eyes to look into his.

And he stares at me for a long, long time, as if he too wants to glean something from my expression. His lips twitch, but he doesn’t utter a single word even after a long time passes by.

Seeing him hesitate like this, I decide to be the one to break the silence first.

MC: Haha, I didn’t expect your wish to be so sincere and honest.

MC: But don’t worry, who didn’t have some little secrets in their childhood? I’ll just pretend I didn’t see it!

Victor: Little secret?

He doesn’t seem to have expected me to say this, causing him to evidently be stunned for a moment. But soon, a glint of playfulness sparks in his eyes.

Victor: Well, that’s a shame. I was originally going to share it with you, but since a certain dummy isn’t curious––

Victor: I guess I’ll just have to leave it be.

—

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

—

【Chapter 4】

He has really done what he said, not uttering a single word of explanation.

He even seems to be in high spirits as he grabs a bottle of whiskey from the liquor cabinet, as if he does not feel my indignant glare fixed on him at all.

Victor: Let’s celebrate together.

MC: Celebrate what?

Victor: I’m really lucky; my wish has come true.

With a hint of tenderness crested between his eyebrows and in his eyes, he uncorks the wine bottle. “Pop”–– the celebration begins, but I feel as if it’s my heart that has begun to deflate.

I push down the bitter feelings in my heart and take a sip of my drink.

MC: Congratulations to you, then.

Victor: Why does this “congratulations” sound a bit like you’re saying it against your will?

Being relentlessly pressed by his step-by-step advances while he is greatly amused, I suddenly feel a mix of embarrassment and anger soaring into my chest.

MC: How should I congratulate you then? Do you want me to take a photo of you for comparison to prove that you’ve grown up properly, just as you wished?

Victor: Sure, how do you plan to take the photo for me?

Originally, it was just an impulsive remark I made out of anger. But his reply suddenly causes me to choke, rendering me momentarily speechless. I can’t help but feel a little itch in my teeth.

However, upon glancing at the extravagant jewelry box in my bag, I narrow my eyes.

The next second, I push him onto the couch and start “hanging” all the jewelry on him without even asking him.

Victor: …are you decorating a Christmas tree?

MC: Since we are taking new photos in the once familiar place, you naturally have to dress up enough like an adult to give them the true value of commemoration.

However, I gradually realize that the ornaments on him don’t look over the top at all; instead, they make him look even more exquisite.

Seeing this, I wickedly pull open a section of his collar, exposing a large expanse of sculpted muscles that charges into my eyes. I can’t help but gulp at the sight.

Victor: Is this how a certain dummy defines an adult?

MC: Why? Can’t I do this?

Hearing his soft chuckle, I huff in anger as I mutter under my breath.

The next second, my wrist is clasped in place, and I find myself falling into his arms. That familiar scent of his hems me tightly.

Victor: Of course you can. But I think there’s still a bit of room for enhancement.

His warm breath grazes my ear now and then, making my heartbeat accelerate involuntarily.

Realizing that my chance to counterattack is slipping through the cracks, I inwardly compose myself and tilt my head slightly, forcefully suppressing my racing heartbeat.

Aiming my gaze at the lipstick on the table, I immediately come up with a plan.

MC: You’re absolutely right; there’s still room for enhancement. It was my bad. I still need to mark you like an adult––

I grab the lipstick and apply several thick coats on my lips, then seal it with a big kiss on his cheek.

The corners of his lips twitch slightly, seemingly evident that he didn’t anticipate my move at all. After a brief moment, he just casually leans back against the couch.

Victor: Have you finished all your preparations for taking the photo?

Looking at his face painted with the mark of my kiss, I nod in satisfaction.

He raises an eyebrow at my reaction, then pulls me closer to him once again.

Victor: Now it’s my turn.

Victor: Photos that hold the true value of commemoration should be taken alongside the witness testimony who made my wish come true.

MC: Witness testimony? Me?

Victor: Is there a third person here?

Victor rubs his temples helplessly, but the smile hanging at the edge of his lips seems to validate the daring conjecture harbored in the depths of my heart.

MC: The “her” you wrote about in your wish strip… it’s me?

Victor: You dummy, who else could it possibly be except you?

Without a moment’s hesitation, he admits it candidly.

In this instant, my heart feels as if it has been drenched.

The mottled wish strip in front of me is akin to the tip of an iceberg I have somehow peered into. It reminds me that in places I’ve never seen, millions of emotions lie buried that I still don’t know about and have yet to fathom.

And those deep eyes of his, which have been fixed on me all along, are so honest and sincere without the slightest concealment, make me surer than ever that––

The impact of our childhood encounter, the bond that forged our destinies together, perhaps runs much deeper than I had ever imagined it to be possible.

It turns out that I have already had my place in his past long ago.

By the time I speak again, my tone has already become joyful.

MC: Ah–– it turns out I had already become your heart’s desire so, so early on. I must have had quite the charm back when I was little, huh~

Victor: …I really underestimated how thick-skinned you can be.

He laughs involuntarily and watches me quietly for a while. The light in his gaze becomes even deeper and more earnest.

Victor: But MC, when I say “I’m lucky,” it’s not because I found the little girl from my past.

Victor: It’s because of the fortunate circumstance–– that little girl turned out to be you.

I instinctively find myself rooted to the spot, feeling a tingling itch sprouting in my heart, as if a wobbly little flower has blossomed within me.

It’s not until he takes hold of my hand that I finally snap out of it. Accompanied by the silky smooth touch of his fingertips, an English word takes form on the glass wall of the flower room –– Morii.

MC: What does it mean?

He lowers his gaze to look at me, his eyes seemingly concealing a subtle smile.

Victor: Originally, for me, those past days were nothing but ordinary moments, days that I would never want to look back on.

Victor: But the moment you stepped inside and looked around, those old times suddenly came to life again.

Victor: Perhaps it’s the gift of a certain dummy; you’ve always made me want to keep holding onto these moments that exist because of you.

His gentle voice is reminiscent of a feather landing in my heart, creating concentric ripples of waves.

I find myself unable to contain my giggle and lean in closer to him.

MC: Then let’s keep holding onto it.

He is slightly stumped for a moment but soon understands the meaning of my words and turns on the camera, aiming it at us. From beginning to end, those eyes of his gazing at me have held a perpetual interplay of tender and fervent glimmers.

Lifting myself up on my toes, I approach the figure that is also drawing closer to me.

Two throbbing hearts appear to have traversed the confines of endless dusty time, seeking solace in each other’s arms time and time again.

Right at this moment, the flash of the camera lights up.

────────

[Tidbits]: Didn’t wanna break the immersion, so kept it for the last here. The word Victor led MC to write together, i.e., “Morii” means the “desire to capture a fleeting moment that cannot be retained.” It’s basically the ephemeral nature of life, the reminder of everything inevitable. It’s like a time in which you expect the least, a time in which that moment spontaneously confronts you, but there is nothing you can do to preserve it— and the desire to do all you can to keep that moment to yourself is “Morii.” And if you know Victor and Victor x MC’s story, I’m sure you understand why it’s so important that they wrote it together, or rather MC instinctively followed his strokes without asking why— (இ﹏இ`｡)❤️

—

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

[Anika’s Long Analysis & Ramblings]

───

[tozuiyon]

(2/3)

previous post

Continuing on the behind the scenes of Crime and Punishment (2007) directed by Dimitri Svetozaeov (Преступление и наказание by Дмитрий Светозаров)…

here is the video that I talked abt in the first post 😭😭 (because I can't post more than 1 in a post).

Also added the vid from the first post - in case you're new to this post ;)

HE GOT THOSE ‘HOLDING AND WAVING THE AXE AROUND’ DANCE MOVES

Fun Fact:

The actor, Vladimir Koshevoy (Владимир Кошевой) who plays Raskolnikov, was suggested to find and listen to music- specified for each episode- in order to get in character and determine the behavior of Raskolnikov.

Music he listened to were 'destructive' (in his opinion and he quotes, "Dostoyevsky should have everything that is, a lyrical waltz, a soul-twisting march, and an incomprehensible creak of something...").

He mentions classical music like; Vivaldi, Schnittke, Gubaidulina, Karavajchuk, Arvo Pärt, etc...

...........Is Madonna one of them?? 😳😳😳 /j

Interview with Koshevoy

god this song slaps so much

i noticed that on Koshevoy’s instagram and vk, he listens to Muse and Panic at the Disco 😭😭😭

I believe that these were the costume tests for the series. They're all so cute sobsosbosbobsob

Somehow I can't find the other actors costume tests :(

that jacket looks so comfy ngl

he got that palmerston hat fit

HES SO FINE

Screen tests!!!!!

THIS SCREAMS 2000s SO MUCH AAAAAAAA

Koshevoy - Raskolnikov with St Petersburg's 'The Church of the Savior on Spilled Blood' behind him..... edgelord.

RASKOLNIKOV WITH A FLIP PHONE BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

Potential meme material

I think he's up to something guys 🤔

I THINK THE PHOTOGRAPHER FELL IN LOVE WITH KOSHEVOY LMAO

i'm in love with him too 😳😳😳😳

have no idea what they're doing here 😭😭

he is silly goofy your honor 🥲

hes like me fr

here is some more photos that the photographer took--

AND NOW I HAVE REACHED THE 30 PHOTO LIMIT........

stay tuned for the next post! :D

previous post

[hanjisungs-bigtittyg0thgf]

Muse

music major!bang chan x art major!reader

Trigger warnings: none

Content warnings: your teeth might fall out over how sweet it is??? that's literally it. it's all fluff lmao

Summary: after what you believe is a chance meeting, chan becomes your muse.

Word count: 3237

Author's note: omg hiiiii babes it's been a minuteeee. this is kinda short but it was the first thing i wrote after finally working through some stuff. shoutout to @hopelessromantic5933 for requesting this, sorry for making you wait almost two years 🥲 anyways, i hope you all enjoy it! don't forget to check out my other work ❤ and don't hesitate to send in asks! also redoing my tag list so comment or dm to be added! much loveeeeee

Tags: @bahng-chrizz

content after the cut

You let out a soft sigh as you grabbed your bag and stood from your desk. You were contemplating changing your major as you made your way out of the classroom, digging through your bag to find your phone. You loved learning new concepts and trying new things but the technique you were learning this week was one you’d never appreciated. You didn’t hate it per se, but you definitely avoided that style. It just didn’t speak to you.

You finally found your phone and began scrolling through your notifications as you made your way towards your favorite food truck. You made a confused face when you saw an Instagram notification from right after your class started. You clicked on it and were greeted with a page full of photos that screamed music major. “Who the fuck is this?” You didn’t bother to go through his pictures, choosing instead to scan his bio for any indication that you knew him. All you came up with was that you attended the same university and shared some mutual friends. He was cute from what you could see so you shrugged and approved the follow request, pocketing your phone as you reached your destination.

You placed your order and stepped to the side, turning to survey the quad. It was a beautiful day and everyone seemed to be taking advantage of it. Maybe inspiration would strike if you sat and people-watched for a bit.

You heard your name a few minutes later and gave a polite smile as you took your food, then scurried off towards your favorite tree. Campus staff had placed a massive wooden lawn chair and some fairy lights under that tree and it always felt so cozy. Plus, you had the best vantage point from there. You could almost see the entire quad from that one spot and you often found yourself sketching study groups there. Today would be slightly different since you were trying something new, but you found a sense of comfort as you settled into the chair and happily munched on your lunch.

As soon as you’d finished eating, you grabbed your sketch pad and pencil and allowed your gaze to sweep across the open field. It was teeming with life so all you had to do was choose someone and start sketching. You shook your head and chose a stationary subject first, needing to build up the courage to locate someone you’d consider asking to model for you.

Your eyes settled on a petite young woman who was seated a few yards away, sipping on coffee with her nose in a book. She almost seemed out of place here given how regal she appeared. Her posture was perfect, shoulders squared and back straight, and her hair fell over her shoulders in romantic waves. She was a picturesque beauty.

You began drawing, allowing your pencil to glide along the paper and create a version of the woman that you felt did her justice. It was far from perfect but you were certain no artist could truly capture her beauty so you gave yourself some grace. You were adding more detail when she began to pack up her things. You let out a soft sigh, knowing you’d likely never see the goddess again and this was as far as you’d get with this sketch. You flipped the page and decided to take a different approach as you spotted two men throwing a frisbee. Both were attractive, though one had a more athletic build.

You focused on the athletic one and took mental notes on the way his body moved as you began to draw him. First, you sketched out the general shape of his body as he twisted in preparation to throw the disk, then you began to add more details. You focused on the way his clothing fell and the way the midday sunlight bounced off his caramel brown hair, getting a strange sense of familiarity as you scrawled notes in the margins on the colors you’d incorporate when you got the chance.

You watched him closely as you tried to find another position to sketch him in, perking up instantly when you caught him with his arm outstretched, the frisbee leaving his hand. He was smiling brightly, displaying the most adorable dimples, and your heart sped up for a moment. You quickly began to sketch, memorizing as much detail as possible before he moved too much.

You gulped but drew even more frantically when he lifted his shirt to wipe the beads of sweat rolling down his face, revealing a six pack and prominent v-line. His proportions were perfect and if you weren’t so flustered by how attractive he was, you’d ask him to model for you. He was exactly what you needed for this project.

That strange familiarity came creeping back in as you drew but it was only when you made brief eye contact that you recognized him. He was the owner of the mystery account who’d requested to follow you less than an hour ago. You frantically looked away and continued drawing, praying he wouldn’t have anything to say when he undoubtedly recognized you from your photos.

You thought you were in the clear when he didn’t approach you after about five minutes but just when the thought crossed your mind, your luck ran out and the frisbee came flying at your head. You ducked your head quickly and listened as the disk crashed into the tree behind you.

“Felix, your arm fuckin’ sucks, bro!” Your breath caught in your throat when your unwitting model’s Australian accent reached your ears as he jogged towards you.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” Called the man who’d lobbed the plastic at your head - Felix, as you’d gleaned from hearing the athletic man mocking him. He looked panicked, hands covering his mouth as he watched from where he was frozen in place. He was just as pretty and you certainly wouldn’t mind him modeling for you sometime. He had a wholesome, warm appearance.

“Sorry about him, he’s usually not such a klutz.” Your mystery man flashed a smile as he rounded your chair, taking a glance at your work as he reached down behind you.

“Ah- no, it’s not a problem. I wasn’t paying much attention.” You offered up a shy smile before looking back down to your paper. You didn’t notice him studying your pad as he retrieved the disk so you were startled when he attempted conversation as he righted himself.

“You sure about that?” He chuckled softly as he leaned over your shoulder to get a closer look and you froze. “Looks like you were paying plenty of attention.” He teased as he studied your art. Who was he and why was he so comfortable? Your heart was thumping and you wanted to vanish. “You an art major?” He asked as he stood straight once more and came around the chair to properly look at you. He was still closer to you than a stranger should be but at least you could breathe again.

Your cheeks were flaming red at being caught and you simply nodded as you began to gather your things in a rush. “I am. Sorry, this is probably really weird for you. I should-”

“What? No! This is really flattering. I don’t know a whole lot about art but you did an amazing job. Can I take a look at some of your other stuff sometime?” You froze once more but his blinding smile won against your nerves and you found yourself nodding. “Great! Can I get your number to get in touch? Or is Instagram better?”

“Ah, so you recognized me…” You let out a single huff of air that somewhat resembled a laugh as you closed your book.

“Of course I did. It’s not often I come across such a beautiful woman.” His dimples appeared once more as your cheeks went pink and your jaw dropped slightly, a smile slowly taking over your face. “Here.” He handed you his phone and you took it slowly, trying to collect yourself and remember how to use your thumbs to type your number out. When you passed it back, his fingers ghosted over yours and you retreated quickly as his smile faded into something far more flirtatious. “Thanks, I’ll text you. I’m Chan, by the way.”

“Y/n…” You murmured, enraptured by the man before you. You were dumbfounded at the way he spoke so comfortably and seemed to take an interest in you. This man was Adonis and was looking at you with an unbelievable level of interest.

“Pleased to meet you, y/n.�� He began to back away as he pocketed his phone, his carefully crafted confident facade beginning to crumble, revealing a giddy young man who was thrilled to have gotten a girl’s number so easily. “I’ll let you get back to it. But do try and get my left side. That’s my good side.” He winked and you involuntarily rolled your eyes as a smile finally appeared on your lips as he made his way back to his friend with a triumphant grin.

————————————————

Your phone buzzed just after 6pm that night and you froze at the unfamiliar number.

Hi pretty 👋🏻 it’s Chan. How are you?

You quickly saved his number before responding.

hiii i’m good how are you

Much better now that I’m talking to you 😉

You were at a loss for words but he quickly sent another message.

I’d be even better if I could take you to get coffee in the near future. Are you free next weekend? Say Saturday at 11am?

You felt a jolt of anxiety shock your body but shook it off. You’d never grow as a person if you continued to shrink away from people who wanted to get to know you. Plus, he was cute. Which is why we’re anxious, dumbass. This isn’t about human connection, this is about a beautiful man flirting with you. You shook your head and typed out a response.

i think i can manage that 😆

Perfect! I’m thrilled to see you and your amazing work. 😌

————————————————

The coffee date had gone smoothly, with Chan gushing about your work and lighting up like a neon sign when you asked him to model for you. He’d been so flattered and excited that you’d asked and had immediately set up a time for you to draw him. After you’d gotten home, you texted him with more details, including where to meet and what he should wear.

Now, he was standing in your living room and you were circling him with one arm crossed over your middle while you drummed your fingers of the opposite hand against your chin. He was fighting the urge to shift around under your scrutiny and let out a tiny sigh of relief when you stopped in front of him with a smile. “I think I have an idea.”

“Have your way with me.” He grinned, ears going red when you stared at him somewhat surprised by his words. “Uh- I just- h-how do you want me to pose? That’s what I meant…” 

You laughed at his flush and shook your head. “Don’t make it weird.” You warned playfully as you pushed him towards your bedroom. You had a daybed with warm-toned sheets and pillows and knew instantly that it was the perfect backdrop. “Come on, I know what I’m gonna do with you.” He seemed to grow more flustered as he processed where you were guiding him and you almost laughed again.

Over the last few weeks, you’d grown quite comfortable with him but he seemed a little less outspoken. He was still very flirtatious but in a more genuine, careful way. He didn’t come on as strong as he did at first. While getting to know each other, you’d come to realize he was a kind man with a lot of love to give the world and a strong sense of self, not just your typical college kid. Most of your late night conversations were deep, thought-provoking, emotional discussions about life where you could see his soul was just as beautiful as his exterior. So while he certainly had his moments of being just some guy, he saved his perverted humor for his friends and kept most things with you pretty PG and entirely sincere.

When you reached your room, you nudged him towards the bed and turned to set up your easel. “Take off your shirt and socks and get on the bed.” He hesitated at first and was on the verge of sputtering some shy response when you turned back with your bottom lip poking out. “Oh come onnnn.” You whined cutely, further exaggerating your pout. “It’s for class.” Your pout was quickly replaced with a little grin as you grabbed your canvas and placed it on the easel. “Plus, it’s not like I haven’t already seen your body before.”

“Right.” He cleared his throat and began to unbutton his shirt. You watched him in your peripheral vision as you continued to set everything up and had an idea.

“Actually, hold on.” You stopped him as he began to slide the linen off his muscular shoulders and he slowly put it back in place. “Just leave it open like that, that’s perfect.” You smiled as your vision fully came to you. “Socks off and get in the middle of the bed.”

He followed your instructions while watching you scurry off to your en suite bathroom to fill a cup with water. When you returned, he was sitting almost awkwardly in the center of your bed and you chuckled softly. You approached him wordlessly and knelt beside him to arrange your pillows so they were nestled in the right corner. You gestured for him to recline and stood back once he was slumped. He wasn’t lying down, he was simply sprawled across your mattress at an angle.

“Okay, bring your right knee up and sort of prop on your left elbow.” You watched as he complied and scrutinized his positioning for a moment before crawling back onto the bed. “I’m gonna make some adjustments.”

You noticed his flush creeping down his neck as you adjusted his open shirt how you wanted it to lay. “Put your hand like this.” You instructed as you demonstrated how you wanted his hand to rest across his bare torso and he complied. “And relax your left leg a bit. I want you to almost lay like Adam in Creation of Adam.”

“I think I get where you’re going with this.” He nodded, a tiny grin settling on his lips. You lifted a brow as you waited for his guess and instantly rolled your eyes when he spoke again. “You’re trying to tell me I’m a classic beauty.”

“Yes, but no.” You laughed softly as you shook your head. “Look over there.” You pointed to where you’d be sitting and made some final adjustments to his shirt as he followed your instructions. You noticed him forcing his breathing to remain steady and his flush reaching his chest as your fingers accidentally brushed against the waistband of his cream colored linen pants.

You didn’t allow yourself to worry over how you’d just touched him or to get flustered at the effect your proximity was having on him and pushed ahead, reaching to fix his hair. You adjusted a single curl and brushed a few strands away from his eyes before your gazes met and you lost the battle to remain calm. Your cheeks went a soft pink as he smiled up at you. “Hi.”

“Hi.” You whispered back, smiling back at him and allowing your fingertips to trail down the side of his face. Seeing him this close made you even more certain of your decision to cast him as your model. His skin was flawless and his bone structure was heavenly. He truly was a god among men. And his lips…

“You’re staring.” He whispered, his smile slipping away as he noticed the way your eyes locked on his full lips.

“I’m not…” You refuted his claim but still couldn’t look away.

“You are.” His face grew redder and you thought he might kiss you but he didn’t dare move after you’d finally gotten him perfectly positioned. It was almost maddening.

“I’m not.” You finally looked towards his eyes and found him staring at your lips as well. “You are.”

“Can’t help it. You have pretty lips.” He slowly met your gaze and something in you snapped. You’d been wanting him to kiss you for a couple weeks and he hadn’t so you took matters into your own hands.

When your lips met his, he hesitated. Not because he wasn’t interested, but because he was surprised that you’d initiated it. You’d given him the impression that you wanted him to take the lead and he wanted to be careful with you so he hadn’t dared to do more than hold your hand. But now your lips were on his and he was in the clouds.

He slowly brought his hand up to cup your face without disturbing the careful placement of his shirt and allowed his lips to move against yours. Your heart was racing at how slow and sweet the moment was. It felt like the stars had aligned and you found yourself smiling against his lips. “I’ve wanted to do that for a little while now.” You whispered and began to pull back.

“Me too. I’ve been trying to take it slow with you though. Didn’t wanna move too fast and risk scaring you off.” He explained quietly, not really letting you move as his hand slipped to the back of your neck. “So come back here, we’ve got a couple weeks of lost time to make up for.” He teased as he chased your lips.

“You did the exact opposite. You were driving me mad wondering what exactly was happening between us.” You laughed softly before allowing him to kiss you again. His lips felt perfect against yours and you knew instantly that you’d quickly become addicted.

It couldn’t have been more than three minutes of sharing chaste kisses but it felt much longer and you frowned a bit when you finally came up for air. “Unfortunately, I’ve got to get to work now or you’ll be stuck waiting here until late into the night.”

“I could wait an eternity for you, babe.” He winked before immediately cringing. You couldn’t help but laugh loudly at the face he pulled and he took a moment to admire your joyful expression before shaking his head. “That was so cheesy, I’m sorry.” He chuckled and settled back into his previous position. “Work your magic.”

“For the record,” you started as you stood and studied him once more. “I love little pet names like that.” You hummed, making your way to your canvas. “So I’d really like it if you continued to use them.”

“Of course, baby girl. But don’t be surprised if I rarely use your real name then.” He grinned and relaxed his hand, allowing his fingers to splay out against his stomach.

“I’ll hold you to that. Now give me an emotionally tortured smolder.” You smiled to yourself at his soft laugh and began to sketch out the god of a man lounging on your bed.

[concreteburialplot]

Intertwined // 04

04 - Snapped Neck

pairing: noah sebastian x nicholas ruffilo

masterlists: here | crossposted: ao3 | word count: 5.1k

warnings; VERY SAD 🥲, mild yelling/verbal abuse?, hints at past abuse, reference to past character death, noah is a devastated horrible depressed mess, short time skips, don’t say i didn’t warn you - sorry in advance, don’t hate me 🥲

reminder; THIS IS AU, nothing is meant to be accurate, including family history/events/dynamics/members/names !!

a/n: don't like it don't read it. don’t be mean for no reason & let others enjoy things thnx :)

i’d like to offer a small playlist for this chapter:

seven - taylor swift

matilda - harry styles

winner - conan gray

hard times - ethel cain

anything 4 u - LANY

if it keeps you up at night - the swoons

-NOAH-

After much-needed water bottles, I’m finally starting to feel somewhat normal again. Folio’s asleep in bed next to me while I lay on a laughably thin blanket on the floor. My eyes fully adjusted to the darkness and all I’m focused on is the popcorn ceiling and counting each plaster peak.

The party rages on the other side of the room and I wonder if anyone out there is sober enough to take me home. It’s almost 1 am and the party hasn’t slowed down. I sigh roughly and roll over to wrap the thin pillow around my head to cover both ears. Even through the cotton I can still vaguely hear the music and a song starts that Nicholas and I were obsessed with a couple months ago.

I chuckle quietly at the lyrics,

“That’s my best friend, she a real bad bitch…”

Such a silly song, even though it’s nothing like what we play or what we regularly listen to – we somehow always get the same pop-y songs stuck in our heads at the same time, then end up loving them unironically.

I shake my head with a stupid grin, thinking about the time we were in the kitchen doing a proper, ridiculous performance while we blasted it through a Google speaker. It started with that song but then snowballed into an entire concert at 2 am – all while his little sister just made fun of us, until she eventually caved in and joined our set.

We were all mic-ed up: me a dustpan, Nicholas a broom, and Stella a spatula.

I dig my front teeth into my bottom lip to stifle a laugh that would definitely wake up Folio.

The memory makes the ground below me that much more rigid.

I’ve already tried sleeping every which way on this god-forsaken carpet, but I can’t seem to get comfy.

The hard floor must be the reason I can’t fall asleep.

I flip back to lay flat.

I don’t really understand why Nick got so upset, but it’s been a long night, so I guess I get it. I’m sure he wasn’t thrilled about getting in the lake. Fucking Folio.

And I know he doesn’t like parties.

I don’t really like them either. I think? Maybe I do now? I don’t know.

But I didn’t want to do this without him.

And I just let him leave like that…

God why did I let him leave.

I want to go home.

I need to go home.

There’s a sharp twist in my stomach when I unlock my dying phone and find no texts from him.

I open my bank app to check my balance. $33.87.

I exit and click on the Uber app, put in our address to see the price. $27.59.

I hit request.

I get home after an Uber ride from a questionable middle-aged man with ridiculous combover.

I fumble with my keys at the front door only to find that it’s not locked. I press my weight against the creaky wooden door to push it open. The house is quiet, if Nick’s car wasn’t in the driveway, I’d think the house was completely empty.

I quietly set my keys down on the wooden dining table across from the kitchen. The bedroom door in the hallway is closed, which I expected. I cross the linoleum and very gently twist the doorknob to peer inside. The small room is illuminated solely by moonlight beaming in through the large window by the bed. I step into the room and click the door closed behind me. When I walk over to the bed, the shimmering white light acts like a spotlight on his face and what I notice churns something deep in my chest. Dried streaks coat his face and look almost like rivers from puffy red eyes.

Surely, he didn’t come home that upset because of the argument we had, right?

I tug at my lip and very gently slip into bed beside him beneath the puffy duvet. The movement causes Nicholas to stir and turn away from me. I stay completely still, not even moving a muscle until he’s completely settled then turn in the same direction as him, just inches away from his back.

If he’s that upset with me, would he even want me here?

Am I intruding?

Is it really intruding if I live here too?

Maybe I should’ve stayed on Folio’s floor.

It’s only then that it really sets in that I really moved out, well more like kicked out, and I live here now. Mostly anyway.

But just because you live somewhere doesn’t mean it’s your home. While I love living with my best friend, and I love his family, and they feel like family – they’re not. As much as they try to not make me feel like one, I am an outsider here.

Even Folio in his frat house, sure he just got hazed and whatever, but he belongs there.

I don’t belong anywhere.

The closest thing I’ve gotten to what I imagine belonging feels like, is with Nicholas. But again, he has no tie to me. We’re friends of course, but if I pissed him off and he wanted me gone… well I’d have nothing. I’d have nowhere to go.

I hate this feeling, this feeling of relying on people.

It’s weird taking up space somewhere you have to walk on eggshells because it’s not yours. Because you don’t belong.  

It’s not like I felt like I belonged at home either, not after Mom passed.

So here is better than there at least.

At least there’s no yelling or slamming doors here.

My eyes drift through the moonlit darkness to the small pile of my belongings in the corner of the room. The sight sends a chill up my spine and my heart rate noticeably rises. I’m reminded that there are still some things waiting for me at my stepdad’s.

I want the ability to truly get on my own, if I don’t want to rely on people, I need to get my stuff so that I can actually make something of myself.

I need to at least try.

And to do that, I need my guitar and my keyboard. I’m nothing without them – and I won’t be able to be anything without them.

-NICHOLAS-

My eyes shoot open when shrill screams fill my eardrums. I nearly jump out of my skin at the noise, especially since I had gone to bed alone.

I don’t have the luxury of trying to figure out how Noah got home, just that he is and he’s having another night terror.

“Fuck.” I mutter.

Because I did such a great fucking job dealing with this last time.

I tug at his freezing cold arm and shake him vigorously but of course, it didn’t do much the first time, why would it have a different result now.

I replicate what I did the last time and straddle his lap, grabbing his wrists and pinning them at his sides to restrain his jerky movements.

“NOAH!” I repeat his name with increasing volume.

He wakes up slowly after a couple times of calling his name.

“Nicholas?” He asks groggily, with furrowed brows and squinted eyes.

I sigh, “Night terror.” I state curtly and pull off him, landing beside him with my back towards him.

“Oh.” He says softly and his eyes falter. “Sorry.”

There’s a twist of guilt in my gut because I should be softer with him after his terror, but I just don’t have it in me tonight. The teary soreness in my eyes reminds me just how much I don’t have it in me. I tug the sheets closer to my body.

He rustles around a bit trying to get comfortable, but I fall back asleep quickly. For a bit.

It’s not long after, maybe an hour or two, that I’m awoken once again but this time to a bunch of noise and the overhead light on at full brightness.

“What the fuck.” I mumble, sitting up and rubbing one eye while keeping the other mostly shut.

I turn to find Noah sitting on folded knees, manically rummaging through the couple bags he moved in with. He’s ripping through each one, tossing pieces of clothing out left and right, shaking out the empty bags as if they have hidden compartments.

“What the fuck are you doing Noah.” I ask, my tone soaked in annoyance, exhaustion, and anger.

“I can’t find some of my shirts. I need to get the rest of my shit out. Today.” He replies, his words rushed.

My brows knit together at his sudden – and poorly timed – bout of bravery and motivation. He’d been putting this off and avoiding it for weeks. And now he’s tearing apart his stuff, throwing shit all over our room at 4:30 in the morning… after a night of drinking?

I yawn and shake my head in confusion, “Wait, wait, wait, how did you even get home?”

“Uber.” He replies simply, his gaze still focused on his third bag not even looking up at me.

“You took an Uber home?” I ask somewhat skeptically, “Why didn’t you just call me?”

His rummaging movements pause with a bundle of shirts in hand, “Didn’t wanna bother you.” Then continues digging through the bag.

Normally I would go on a tangent about how I’d rather call me to pick him up instead of doing something stupid like possibly be driven home by someone inebriated – but I’m much too depleted, both physically and emotionally to do so.

“Well, you should’ve called me.” I tug the cotton sheets closer to my body and bunch the material to my chest. “What is this really about? You’re acting so strange.”

I reach over to the light switch and turn the knob to dim the white-yellow hue of the light above us.

“I just need to get my shit, Nicholas.” He huffs, seeming aggravated by my questions.

“Well, you’re gonna go alone if you keep snapping at me like that.” I retort, even though I’d never let him go alone.

He exhales and deflates with a balled-up band tee in his hands. “I just need to do it today. If I don’t do it today, I might not ever be able to.”

Honestly, this is the last thing I fucking needed after earlier tonight. I just wanted to fucking sleep. And not be around Noah.

Yet here I am, awake, around too much Noah.

“Fine.” I sigh. “Fine, we can go today – but only if you fucking wrap up whatever the fuck you’re doing and come to bed. If we’re really doing this today, you don’t need to be sleep-deprived for it.”

“Fine.” He agrees reluctantly and begins gathering the clothes to shove back into the bags. “But I probably won’t be able to sleep.”

“Well, you should at least try.” I scoot back into my left side to make room for him.

The box spring squeaks under the weight of him when slides in and immediately turns away from me. Normally I would be a tad offended, but tonight, I’m grateful.

Surprisingly, small snoozy noises escape him not long after his head hit the pillow. I lay facing him, watching the rise and fall of his ribcage like a metronome.

Concern and fear suddenly flood my bloodstream like a bad drug. Getting most of his stuff out the first time was no picnic and I just know this last time is going to be even worse. Frankly, I’m a tad worried about the things he’d left behind, I wouldn’t put it past his stepdad to throw them out.

I shake my head and try to focus on my breathing to calm me down. When that doesn’t work, I try counting.

I drift off to sleep before 30.  

My faux-leather steering wheel cover cracks under my fidgeting fingers. Noah can’t seem to sit still, running his hands up and down his thighs probably to self soothe. The anxiety is thick and tangible in the car. He would never admit it to me, but I know he’s scared shitless about going back home. Noah always tried to hide it from me, but I’m not stupid. It doesn’t matter how “anemic” or thin you are, you don’t amass that many bruises that frequently. I always wondered if that’s why he started wanting so many tattoos so suddenly. Maybe, on some level, that’s what made me want to start tattooing in the first place.

The normally 20-minute-long car ride felt like three hours, but when we arrived, I could’ve sworn it had only been 3 minutes.

I park on the curb at the end of the driveway and shut off the car. Just being on the tiny patch of lawn has my heart thumping through my chest and it’s not even my battle.

But I guess if I’m here with him,

If it’s his, it’s mine too.

As much as he wasn’t prepared to do this, neither was I. My gaze lands on the rectangular windows of the small yellow house. From the outside, it looks so normal, so happy even. It’s almost eerie how far from the truth that is.

I look over at him, just now realizing he hadn’t said a word the whole ride. He’s slumped in the passenger seat, one lanky arm wrapped around his own waist and the other stationed at his mouth. His eyes glued to the house behind me as he chews on his thumbnail.

“We can still go back home, Noah. We don’t have to do this today if you’re not ready.” I offer gently, mostly because I don’t think either of us are fully equipped to do this.  

“No. I have to do this.” His eyes finally falter away from the house and land on me.

“Okay. You sure you’re ready?” I ask quietly.

His teeth dig into his bottom lip. “No. But I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”

“I’m gonna be with you the whole time, okay?” I hold out my pinky. “Always, remember?”

He nods and hooks onto my pinky. “Always.”

As expected, I’ve landed myself in the middle of a brawl between Noah and his stepdad. I feel guilty and useless standing there as a bystander not interfering, but my feet can’t seem to move and my vocal cords have ceased to function.

Noah started off strong, full of adrenaline and blind bravery, but it didn’t take long for George to wear him down.

My heart beats loud in my ears and I can’t hear a word they’re saying. All I see is him waving around Noah’s guitar like it’s a toy, using it as an extension of his exaggerated furious expressions. Noah’s tall, but George is much taller and stronger than him, so Noah just looks like a mouse running around an elephant, scrambling trying to snatch the instrument back.

I’m not sure what they’re even screaming about but the argument escalates further than I ever expected it to. My eyes round as I witness each of George’s hands slide to either end of the guitar’s neck.

No

He wouldn’t

As if in slow motion, I watch the light pale from Noah’s face. His eyes wide and teary, and his brows curled up. I can see the heartbreak in his dark brown eyes in real time as he watches his stepdad easily snap the neck of his beloved guitar.

The break is quick and sharp and fills the room with the sound of cords plucking and wood splintering. The noise after is even louder though, just jarring silence.

Until George opens his mouth again. “Get your sad, pathetic little toys and your little boyfriend out of my goddamn house.” Rasps his deep Western accent.

He forcefully tosses the broken instrument at Noah, hitting him so hard it knocks him backwards. The livid man storms across the house and slams the master bedroom door behind him.

Noah’s knees buckle and land harshly on the carpeted floor, holding the guitar in his arms as if it’s a wounded soldier in battle. His face scrunches up around his eyes and tears just begin pouring from him. His chest hiccups with each sob that escapes. He curls the wooden pieces in his arms into his chest and rests his forehead against the curve of the guitar. His cries heave his entire body.

I’m frozen where I stand. What I just witnessed might as well have been a murder. I’ve seen Noah cry, of course, but this is something I’ve only ever seen once before. Besides that one time, I’ve never seen him this bad. At least, he’s never letme see him this bad.

I gently meet him on the floor. For some reason, I feel hesitant to touch him, but I can’t just sit here and do nothing.

I don’t dare even touch the arms that are gripped onto his guitar so, I rest my hand on his shoulder. He doesn’t even react to my touch at all, as if he can’t even feel it.

“Noah…” I say cautiously. “Let’s just get you out of here, okay? We just need to grab your stuff and get out. We can figure this out later… later when we’re not here.”

He doesn’t respond and when I try to nudge him even a little bit, he’s solid like concrete where he’s kneeled.

“C’mon Noah we gotta go.” I stretch up to double-check that the bedroom door is still closed. “I’ll get the rest of your stuff. We just need to get you out of here.” I urge and squeeze his shoulder a bit.

His fingers dig into the instrument as he takes a deep sniffle and screws his eyes shut tight, shoving the salty tears out. He just gives me a little nod against the guitar, letting me know that he understands but doesn’t move.

“Please, Noah.” I beg and try pulling at his arm again. “Please get up. I need you to get up for me.”

He gives a little of his arm to me and not much more. But I take what I can get and use both of my arms to weakly lift him up from the floor by his underarms. I basically carry him out of the house, his body limp as I drag him backwards across the overgrown lawn. Shards of dying grass cling to our clothes and dust kicks up all over the back of his jeans.

I feebly open my back door and let him crawl into the backseat with the guitar tight in his grip. He immediately lays with it across the cushions and some boxes.

Luckily, we had gotten most of his belongings already so there was just the final sweep left to do.

Thankfully, George is still holed up in his room, though that doesn’t ease my panicked heart-pounding in my ears. Noah’s room is completely bare except for a half-filled trash bag of miscellaneous belongings. I drag the heavy bag across the stained beige carpet, but I stop at something that catches my eye.

In one cubicle of many that make up a huge bookshelf are a couple of photo albums in chronological order spanning over a few years. From the peek-through covers I can tell that they’re filled with pictures of his parents, or maybe at least his mom.

My head snaps at a stir that comes from behind the bedroom door and in a split-second decision, I scoop all the photo albums and throw them into the black trash bag. I use all my strength to heave the now extra bulky bag across the yard as I run towards the car.

I toss the bag into the trunk and slam the door before rounding the car, throwing myself so hard into the driver’s seat that I nearly tip the car over. I take a glance in my rear-view to check on Noah and find his body tightly curled around the instrument sobbing even worse than how I left him. Seeing him like this… gives me an ache in my chest that I didn’t even know could hurt so much. It’s so excruciating that I could almost vomit from it.

I quickly shift the car into drive and speed off so fast that my wheels squeal.

I’m unsure what to do or what to say. It feels like saying anything would only make things worse at risk of saying something wrong. I always feel guilty when situations like this happen with his family because I can’t imagine what he feels. I don’t know what I’d do without my family, and I can’t even fathom someone treating their child like that, especially him. Noah is the last person on earth that deserves that.

I bite my nail as I walk back and forth in the living room lost in my thoughts.

“Honey, why don’t you come sit down?” My mom suggests patting the couch cushion next to her. “Pacing around the living room isn’t going to help anything.”

I sigh and meet her on the couch, “You should’ve seen him, Mamá.” I run my fingers through my sweat-coated roots. “Oh my god, it was horrible.”

She begins rubbing small circles into my back, “I know Gatito.” She tries to soothe, using her Spanish nickname for me – she always told me I resembled a small cat. “But we know what his family is like, I’m surprised something like this hadn’t happened sooner.”

“Yeah…” I trail off, biting down hard on my thumbnail thinking of all the things we never told her his stepdad had done. If she knew the things he’d done to him – especially in front of me – who knows what she’d do. She’s a Hispanic single mother, nothing would be able to stop her – and a George vs. Mom battle royal is the last thing we need.

“I’ve just never seen anyone that… defeated before. That guitar was everything to him.” I hang my head and use both hands to cover my face.

“Well, you know, maybe we could pull together some extra money by Christmas?” She offers. “I could pick up some extra shifts at the hospital.”

“No, no, Mom, you don’t understand.” I sigh and turn my head to her against my propped palm. “His mom gave him that guitar.”

“Oh.” She replies solemnly in understanding.

“There’s a music store in town where I get my vinyls, they do repairs there.” My sister speaks up from across the room, resting on the column that separates the living room from the kitchen. “Maybe you could see if they could fix it?”

I blink blankly as I process her words and it’s like a lightbulb illuminates above my head. “You actually might have a good idea for once Stell.”

 She rolls her eyes, “I’m trying to be helpful, you don’t have to be rude.”

“I’m your brother, it’s kind of my job to be rude.”

“Whatever.” She takes a sip from her obnoxiously sized water bottle. “There’s a really cute guy that works there, I think he does most of the repairs. His name is Jolly, tell him Stella sent you.” She winks.

��Augh.” I groan in disgust and wave her boy craze away. “I’ll be sure to do that.” I add sarcastically.

A serious stillness falls over the room like everyone is equally unsure of how to proceed.

“What are you gonna do about Noah?” Stella asks softly, her voice laced with concern.

My leg bounces in anxious uncertainty as my eyes drift over to my closed bedroom door.

“I don’t know.”

I gently knock on my door and slowly creek it open. The room is pitch black with just Noah on the bed curled up around his guitar, his shoulder length hair splayed across the pillows, and the duvet wrapped around him like a cocoon. He’d been hidden away in my room like this since we got home.

“You awake?” I question timidly, readjusting the tray in my hands.

It takes a moment, but he replies with a tiny, short groan.

“I brought you soup. You know, the chicken noodle my mom makes that you like so much?”

Another brief pause followed by a slightly more intrigued grumble.

I take it as permission to enter and precariously make my way over to him. There’s a sliver of mattress left behind him, and I fit half my ass on it.

I allow him the space to be quiet with me for a bit.

“How are you doing?” I ask, even though it’s an asinine question.

He just sniffles.

“I know, I’m sorry.” I sigh quietly. “Is there anything I can do?”

He sniffles again and scooches further into the bed, onto my side.

I silently tap my index finger on the plastic tray, pondering what that could mean before I speak. “You want me to lay with you?”

He gives a small ‘mhm’ groan.

“Okay, I can do that. But can you eat for me?”

He replies with a ‘nuh-uh’ whine.  

I exhale knowing this was going to be an uphill battle. “Noah, you’ve gotta eat.”

He shakes his head in resistance again.

“C’mon, just a couple bites…for me?”

A pause before he lets out a defiant but agreeing sigh.

“You’re not gonna move, are you?”

He shakes his head.

I breathe out trying not to sound annoyed because I should be grateful that he even cooperated this much.

Maneuvering around him from behind, I hold the bowl in one hand and the spoon in the other. Thankfully, the soup had cooled down to just a bit warmer than room temperature. I scoop a spoonful of it, making sure to get a little bit of everything: noodle, chicken, and carrot – if he’s only going to take a couple bites, I have to make sure they count.  I carefully bring the spoon over to his lips, he lifts his head just a bit and takes the spoonful into his mouth. He let me give him 4 or 5 bites, which was more than I expected, before rejecting the rest.

I set the bowl on the nightstand, lift the sheets, and nestle into the space he made for me.

“Thanks for eating.” I say quietly. “I know you didn’t want to.”

He nods mutely.

I press my lips together. “I’m sorry about what happened today.”

He’s silent. Slowly but surely sniffles and sobs begin to pour from him again. I immediately feel the twist of guilt in my stomach for being the one to trigger his tears again.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I-I can leave if you want some priv–“

His hand reaches behind him and firmly captures my wrist.

“Stay.” He begs in a coarse whisper, the first thing he’s said since we came home. “Please?”

His voice is so cracked and hoarse, if I didn’t know any better, I’d swear he was sick.

I falter a second to respond but he must’ve felt the hesitation.

“It helps.” He croaks. “Remember?”

The churn in my chest returns and there’s an ache in my heart that accompanies it. If I could somehow magically take all of this away, I would, even if it meant trading places with him. Even if it meant I’d be the one hurting instead.

I feel so fucking useless, not being able to do much for him.

But at least I can do this.

“Okay.” I respond cautiously and settle further into the bed, now essentially spooned around his body.

His grip on my wrist never left so I let our joined arms rest on his hip. I can’t seem to gather with the right words to say to him, I mean what can you really say after something like that?

So, I offer him the only words that feel suitable.

“I’m not going anywhere, Noah. You know that right?”

There’s a long quiet, so long that I think he may have fallen asleep.

But then he squeezes my wrist.

“Thank you.”

I sense the urge to do something, but I’m not sure how he’ll react. I don’t know, maybe it would help?

I tug at where his hand meets mine and he gives me an upset grumble, like he doesn’t want me to leave.

“I just… is it okay if - can I try something?” I ask shyly, suddenly very nervous, nervous enough to have my heart racing.

Out of the corner of my eye, I catch his brows furrowing. I can tell he wants to be stubborn and keep me latched there, but curiosity always gets the best of him. He slowly loosens his grip on my wrist.

I didn’t notice that my palms were sweating until I’ve retrieved my hand. I press my lips flat and feel like my ribcage could burst open at any minute from how hard my heart beats against it.

My body is screaming at me to do it and as much as I want to fight it, I can’t.

Maybe it would help

I let my arm go where it wants to go. It slithers beneath the covers and through the space between Noah’s arm and his side. I wrap my arm around his waist and pull flush against him.

We both freeze. My ears grow warm as the hour-long seconds pass.

Maybe he’s uncomfortable

Maybe he thinks this is weird

Maybe it is weird?

Is this weird?

Maybe he doesn’t like it

Maybe I’m making it worse

Maybe–

Unexpectedly, he just melts into me. His body molds into my arms like they were made just for him.

He finds my arm and brings it to his face, pressing his damp, swollen eyes against it. Small sobs fall into my arm and his grip on me is so tight I could turn blue.

Maybe he feels safe, and maybe he just needed to feel safe to let the rest out.

My own eyes well up at the sound of him, at the feeling of his body heaving in my arms. I press my forehead against his shoulder.

“I’m here, okay? I’m not going anywhere. I’m always gonna be here.” I reassure him again through my own held-back tears.

He wipes his tears off with the collar of his shirt before pulling my arm back around his chest. He nuzzles into me, and I feel my heart swell so big it fills my entire chest.

I think I already know the answer, but I wanna hear it anyway.

“Does this help?”

He lets out a sleepy sigh as he nestles his back into my chest.

“You always help, Nicholas.”

Next Chapter -> 05 - Girl Crush*

tag list; @ladyveronikawrites @cryingabtab @sinkingteethinwhitenoise @kingdomof-omens @the-hell-i-overcame @blackveilomens @xxrainstorm [comment if you'd like to be tagged?]

a/n; I know this was a heavy one 😅 i'm sorry, i hope you were able to enjoy it regardless.

Thank you for the support on this series and on my other series, Virality. I appreciate it more than you know. I love reading your comments and asks. I am incredibly grateful for them, thank you.

[nvrsaidiwasinurcloset]

Wolf In Sheep's Clothing - Ghostface!Billy x Fem!Reader

Ghostface!Billy Loomis x Fem!Reader

This contains SMUT - Minors DNI

Summary: Billy scares you, but it determined to make it up to you.

A/N: Thank you guys for reading and liking my stuff. It means so much to me 🥲

You were home alone, waiting for your boyfriend to come over. As you sat on the couch flipping through channels, the phone started to ring. You answered it, and was met by a voice you didn’t recognize. 

“Do you have a boyfriend?” The man asked, after talking to you for a few minutes.

“Yes,” you said, unsure of where this conversation was heading.

“Do you fuck him?” You got more uncomfortable with the conversation.

“I don’t think that’s any of your business” you snapped, as you pulled the phone away from your ear, about to hang up.

“I wouldn’t hang up if I were you!” The voice yelled.

You started to panic as you held the phone back to your ear.

“Who is this?” You asked; the man laughed.

“I’m the one that’s going to kill you…what a shame. You look like you’d be a lot of fun to toy with,” he said.

Your hands started to shake as thoughts ran through your head. This is either someone you know, someone who can see you right now, or both. You looked through all the windows you could see from where you were standing, scared to move. 

You heard the line go dead, and you immediately tried to call 911, until the power went out. 

“Fuck,” you sighed, tears welling up in your eyes.

You looked down the hallway that led to your front door, to see someone standing there with a black robe and a mask on their face. You screamed, as you ran for your patio door. The door had barely opened when a gloved hand slammed it shut. 

“You aren’t going anywhere,” the man said, but this time you recognized the voice. You stared at the person, confusion painted on your face.

You reached over to his face, pulling the mask off to see your boyfriend, Billy.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” You screamed, shoving him as he tried to walk closer to you.

“Aww baby, are you scared?” He mocked, as you dried the tears slipping out of your eyes.

“Yes, I’m scared! I thought you were some psycho!” You yelled as he laughed.

“I’m no psycho, but I am crazy…for you,” he said, pulling the robe over his head. 

He walked closer to you, before leaning in to place a kiss on your lips. 

“I don’t think so,” you said, pulling away from him. 

“Oh come on, baby. I’m sorry, okay?” He said, as you walked away from him, heading back to your spot on the couch. 

He followed after you, jumping over the back of the couch to sit beside you.

“Billy, I think you should go,” you said, frustration in your voice.

“I don’t think I should leave when you’re so worked up,” he said, standing up and walking behind where you were sitting. 

His hands started to massage your shoulders, and you started to relax a little. You soon felt his lips on your neck, placing gentle kisses.

“Billy,” you moaned as he kissed the sweet spot on your neck. 

“I know how I can make you forgive me,” he said, as he walked back around the couch.

“How do you plan to do that?” You smirked at him, as he crouched down on the floor in front of you. 

“I know a way,” he whispered, leaning closer to your legs. You relaxed a little as he slid your skirt up to get better access to where he really wanted to be. He spread your legs, and waited no time to push your panties to the side. He kissed your clit as your body tensed. 

“Relax, let me take care of you” he mumbled against your thigh, before repeating his previous actions. His mouth was all over your pussy, alternating between focusing on your clit and fucking you with his tongue. The more you got into it, the faster his mouth moved. 

“Oh fuck, Billy,” you moaned, your legs starting to jolt at his actions. 

Your chest was heaving as he continued to eat you out, that amazing feeling quickly building inside of you. He sucked your clit into his mouth, the slight overstimulation making you cry his name as your orgasm washed over you. 

When Billy sat back down beside you on the couch, he put his arm around your shoulders pulling you close.

“You were right, that did make me forgive you,” you said, pecking him on the lips.

He laughed a little as you pulled away.

“Imagine what would’ve happened to you if you said you didn’t have a boyfriend earlier,” he said, as you playfully smacked his arm and directed your attention back to the tv.

The next afternoon, you were once again in your spot on the couch. You turned on the local news and learned that a horrible crime had happened. You intently watched, starting to feel nervous when they had no suspects. Then, the news woman held up a mask. The exact same mask Billy was wearing the night before. 

“Oh my god,” you cried.

Then, you heard the phone ring.

[frikatilhi]

Ok so the Eurovision final night is one of your Bojere roman empires right? Cause it definitely is mine and I think we as a society should not stop talking about it, even if it happened exactly 8 months ago (wtf how)... Can you like pinpoint the best moments that made you go AAAA or just tell some thoughts idk? I wish I could come up with a decent question to make it easier for you but my brain goes brrrr and I just want to talk about them 🥲

Aaaahhhhh omg well there are two different answers to this.

Um, apparently this got long so. In this essay I will

Eurovision final night, you say? Look, this post and its notes cover a lot of what makes me want to flip tables and gnaw my own arm off about that night. That hug? And how Bojan dropped everything and comforted him and made him laugh? How Jere cried in the bathroom and one reason why was that he didn't know when he'd see Bojan again? How Bojan lost his phone and missed his flight? (Matti in a recent interview said that the afterparty at the hotel was epic, and please, I need to know more why didn't they ask him to elaborate asdfasfgg) Soooo, yeah, all of that. The emotions ran so high that night that I feel like we got to see behind the public image they wanted to convey, behind the stories and clout. There was nothing to promote anymore, the only thing that was left after the results came was what they were to each other. Everything we know about them that night has come from other people, and it's not even that much.

Which brings me to the other part, which is your wording "Can you like pinpoint the best moments that made you go AAAA" (and here is where I'm sidetracking from your initial ask about esc final night)

I have a confession to make. I wasn't on board the bojere boat at that point, not yet. I was following Jere on insta, so I saw the stuff he was posting, and there was a big deal being made of their bromance in Finnish media, but at that time? I thought it was cute, but I also thought I was immune, brainrot/shipping-wise. I really thought the bromance stuff would not affect me, no, I had been burnt too many times by the straight dudes who hugged each other to make fans happy and earn those screams and clicks. I wanted the real thing, you know?

So I thought it was cute. Until a little after ESC when it didn't seem to die down and then suddenly I was watching clips and stories and catching up on stuff I had missed during the preparties and Liverpool and then I was reading fic and reading what people said about them and.. it was downhill from there.

The exact moment it all really clicked for me was when Bojan turned up in Finland. Those motherfuckers were actually keeping their promise to see each other again? And that soon? The utter joy together on stage? Bojan's face in the piggy train? All their shenaningans that weekend? Bojan's naruto run at the airport?

Um yeah, that's when I knew it was over for me. Goddammit.

[pseudowho]

Hellloo Haitch! I hope you had a relaxing weekend

<33

Onto the questions—

1) From the JJK villains, who would you trust enough to save them as your speed dial/ emergency contact?

2) What type of drunk are you? (The sad drunk, happy, affectionate, angry etc) Do you have any Drunken habits? What type of drunk do you think Mr. Haitch is? Does he have any drunken habits?

3)Any memory of yours that you find embarrassing but others recall as hilarious?

4) Favorite Seventeen songs? (mine are Falling flower and Happy Ending (Korean ver)

5) Any antics of your kids that you find adorable? (Recently my little cousin turned one. And she has learnt how to debate lmao. It’s so fun to see her shaking her finger, slamming her hands on the table, and yell around in gibberish, arguing with her parents. She even “walks out” of those arguments and slumps to the floor with her milk bottle, giving her parents judgey looks and mean side eyes. I love her, she’s so sassy XD)

6) Your favorite poem(s) of all time? (Mine are Raven and Annabel Lee by Edgar Allen Poe and Stopping by the woods on a snowy evening by Robert Frost)

Thank you as always for your time

Much love xoxo

Hellooooo! Mostly relaxing. But I ate too much, eirghhhhh. Now my tummy is ouchie.

Assuming they're on my speed dial because we at least like each other...Hanami. I don't think they'd say anything over the phone, but I think the love that I give me houseplants would at least endear them to me a little bit.

The handsy drunk. Drunk!Nanami is in fact based on me, not Mr.Haitch, who is a gentleman. Mostly.

I tried to frogleap a bollard in a pencil skirt when I was at school. I went at it at great speed, and flipped over at great speed. I fucked up my shoulder, but it's earned me a nickname which follows me even now.

Falling Flower is also my favourite! Twinnies.

Our eldest pulls his trousers/shorts all the way up to his nipples, and walks around bow-legged with a gurning face. Our middle one pretends to be a cat, to great accuracy. Our baby plays 'dentist' and tries to inspect our teeth, with two whole chonky baby hands in our mouths.

jfc. My favourite of all time, is Stopping By The Woods on a Snowy Evening by Robert Frost 🥲 and An Arundel Tomb by Phillip Larkin.

Very much love, thank you for your patience ❣️

Love,

-- Haitch xxx