#these two are hilarious without even trying

[vevobly]

YJs with a blunt/no filter reader

Yellowjackets With Blunt Reader! [Peri-crash] (1)

A/N: I didn't really have many ideas on this, so I went ahead and asked for help from two people I'm close with — @nieveink & @salfishdelish! Thank you so much :))

Jackie Taylor:

Jackie is instantly rubbed the wrong way by your bluntness. She's used to being adored, so she thinks you're just rude and borderline insufferable at first. You say things that she's so used to people sugarcoating like calling her out for complaining, pointing out her privilege, or mocking her dramatics.

You told her “you don’t actually want to lead, you just want people to like you” to her once during a group argument, and then her face turned red. She just wants whatever is the best for the team! Besides that, who the fuck even are you to just go up and say those kinds of things to her? You don't know her that well.

But after a few weeks, she finds herself liking your honesty more than she’ll admit. You’re the only one she doesn’t walk on eggshells with these days. You’re also one of the only people who’ll call her out to her face, and not behind her back unlike some people. And before she knows it, she starts asking what you think about things just to hear your brutal honesty.

“Do you like me? Because I-I think you hate me, but I still... want to be around you.” She asks, rubbing her arm and avoiding your gaze.

Shauna Shipman:

You make Shauna uncomfortable at first. Not because you’re mean! But because you say the exact things she tries not to think about. One time where Jackie was being incredibly insufferable with her chores, you casually asked Shauna if she ever thought about punching her. And Shauna? She laughed for the first time in days since the whole crash happened.

Shauna doesn't exactly know why, but she feels like she can just be herself around you without any problems. She once confided something small and dark to you. And instead of comforting her? You just replied with “yeah, that makes sense. This place is making us all worse.” Since then, she found herself coming to you with things she can’t say to Jackie.

You guys become close, slowly but surely. One night, she sits too close to you. Gives you half her food for that day and lets her hand brush yours. “If you’re trying to seduce me with squirrel jerky, it’s working.” You teased her. Shauna didn't know what to respond to you, so she just blushed instead before laughing quietly to herself.

“I hope it is,” She replied. “I didn't just risk Jackie getting pissed off at me for nothing, you know?” She smiled softly at you.

Taissa Turner:

Tai doesn't have time for bullshit, and you don't either. So naturally, she respected your bluntness at first until you guys started to clash a lot after the crash. You say things exactly the way they are, and while she appreciated that very much before. It's become a thing that pisses her off. “You’re not god, Tai. You can’t fix this for all of us.” You told her once.

And Tai? She just breaks down and snaps at you. And the fact neither Travis or Nat were able to bring any food back at the cabin that day didn't help either. But instead of snapping back, you just told her that you knew she was scared and that next time you'd rather have her tell you than bottling it up then projecting it onto something else entirely.

It took 2 days before she was able to go up to you and apologize for it. It was only after that, you guys started to get closer. Then she started seeking you and your thoughts on since then. Tai trusts you more than she admits. And when things start getting worse? She finds herself looking for you in the group, every time.

She pulls you aside one day. “I can’t keep doing this. I like you, and it’s distracting.” And then she grabs the collar of your shirt to kiss you like there's no tomorrow.

Van Palmer:

Van likes that you’re blunt. It's refreshing in a good way. And she thinks you're hilarious even when you're trying not to be. That, and she can match your energy. You both rely on dark humor to cope with your situation. And during one night, you said something about eating one of the JV girls if it came to it. Van ended up choking on her stew.

She appreciates the fact you don't sugarcoat anything and say it the way it is. And honestly? You're probably one of the only people who makes her laugh genuinely. When Van started to sit beside you during fire circle nights just to hear your commentary on everything and anything? You guys became pretty close because of it. She finds out immediately that she doesn't just like you, she loves you when you mutter “I stink, I miss showers so much”

She jokes about it at first. “That’s it, I’m proposing. Someone who admits they stink is my dream girl.” She grins at you. But then, you and her are holding each other's gaze too much. Eventually, she pulls you in for a kiss. “Was that to shut me up or because you’re into me?” You asked after she pulled away from you and rested her forehead against yours. Van laughs hard. And you think to yourself about how beautiful it sounds. “Both. Definitely both.” She replied.

“So what if I like you? You wanna wrestle about it?” She couldn't stop smiling dopely at you.

Natalie Scatorccio:

While both of you are pretty similar. Nat is more rough around the edges than anything. You? You're sharp tongued and tactless, but honest at least. At first, she thought you were annoying. But over time? She realized you're the only one who talks to her like an actual person instead of a problem. And she notices how you don't flinch from her, even when she's being messy or mean. You hold her gaze and say shit like “You done throwing your little fit?” back instead.

Nat ends up soft around you, and lets her guard down. You call her out, sure, but you're also truthful in almost everything else with her. You say stuff like “You smoke like you’re trying to die out here before nature even gets the chance to kill you,” and she just stares at you with a small smile on her lips. Since then, Nat has come to sit next to you every time she needs to breathe. No words are needed, because the way she looks at you is enough to tell you about what she needs.

And during one particular night when everyone's fallen asleep? After a whole hour of throwing snarky back and forths at each other, you and Nat just fall silent. It's a bit awkward at first, but then suddenly Nat starts to talk about herself with you. “And here I was thinking you could never talk like that ever with anyone, especially me��� You teased her, grinning a little. She laughs and punches your elbow playfully. “Whatever, no one's gonna believe you if you tell them.”

Then after another moment of silence. “If you say anything about this, I’ll kill you” She smiles softly at you. “But I think I like you. Or whatever...” She avoids your gaze.

Lottie Matthews:

Lottie finds your bluntness weirdly comforting. She's not fully gone yet, but she IS having strange dreams. And somehow, your bluntness manages to ground her. You're skeptical about her visions, but you're never cruel. When she shares weird thoughts with you, you just listen and then respond with something like “Cool! I'm still not eating mushrooms you found behind a dead bird.” Instead of feeling offended, she finds herself laughing at your response.

She feels safer around you than anyone else on the team, and she doesn't know why. But maybe it's because you'll always tell her the truth, even if it's harsh. You once told her “You’re weird, but like… not in a bad way.” and her ears turned red before she shook her head, smiling softly at you. “Should I feel complimented or offended?” Then she's bringing you things—berries, matches, anything useful. Doing things for you without you asking.

You tend to ask about her visions from time to time. “Do you actually believe it, or do you just want it to mean something?” And sometimes when you ask, Lottie finds herself with no words to answer you. “You think I’m going nuts?” She asks once, half joking. You answer without hesitation. “No. But you definitely freak me out sometimes.” She smiles like that’s the kindest thing anyone’s ever said and it makes you feel complicated. Should you feel bad for what you said or good?

“I think you’re meant to be in my life. Or… I-I'm meant to love you,” She rubs the back of her neck nervously. “I don’t know, I.. just feel it.”

Laura Lee:

You and Laura Lee are polar opposites. She prays before meals. And you? You complain about being constipated in front of everyone. At first, she finds you very inappropriate. I mean, you cuss too much. Say irreverent things and question everything, even god sometimes. She worries about your poor soul. “God hears everything,” She told you once. “Then he must be bored out of His mind.” Was your response to her.

She was scandalized! But despite it and herself, she ended up laughing at your words. She doesn't expect to like you, but she does. You're one of the very few people who doesn't treat her own religion like some sort of punchline. You just let her have it, even if you don't believe in it. She starts asking for your help with chores. “Not because I need it,” She told you. “but because I like when you’re around.”

Laura Lee falls for you, slowly and gently. And it scares her. She doesn't think it's love at first, maybe just admiration. But when she finds out it's EXACTLY that? Cue her being helpless with herself! You guys dance around each other quite a lot in the beginning. You're too blunt to flirt with her, and she's way too unsure of herself to even say anything to you. But when she starts blushing a lot around you? You take notice of that. And one day, she finally tells you.

“I… feel something. For you,” She says quietly. “A-And I don’t know if I should. But it doesn't seem like it's bad.”

Misty Quigley:

Misty is a desperate girl who craves for validation. And while your bluntness doesn't give her the warm fuzzies, it does make her feel seen. You just acknowledged her skills without mockery once, and she latched onto it immediately. You catch her staring at you often. And while you do confront her about it from time to time, she just always denies it really badly. “Stop staring at me, I feel like I'm being watched by an owl now.” Misty apologizes quickly for it.

She doesn't know how to flirt like a normal person, so she just keeps doing things for you—fixing your boots, bringing you food, patching you up even when you don't ask. And then you start catching her following you around more often. She's always telling you she's just checking up on you whenever you ask her about it, but you're not dumb. “Are you following me?” You eventually asked her. “W-what? No! I'm not following you.” You raise an eyebrow at her, unconvinced.

One night, she decided to bring you a bundle of wildflowers. You just stared at her for a few minutes before speaking up. “You’re not dying, are you?” You asked. “What? No,” She shook her head, before looking away. “I just… thought of you.” You're not sure what to do with that. But you don't throw the flowers away. And while she isn't expecting anything in return, you decided to carve a pocket sized wooden owl for it. She loved it so much that she takes it everywhere with her.

“You know, most people lie to me” She stared at the small wooden owl in her hands. “But you don’t,” She looked up at you. “And maybe... that’s why I love you.” She smiled softly, cheeks tinting red a bit at her own words.

[track11]

rockstar's muse

pairing: drummer van palmer x fem rockstar reader summary: with the popularity of your band growing, you decide to set the record straight on who your songs are about warnings: none!! a/n: sorry this is kind of short, but i love me a good yellowjackets au (moodboard here) song rec: i can see you - taylor swift word count: 1k

You never expected to get this popular. The band you made with your friends started as a joke, but here you are, backstage at a pub in the city with quite the crowd waiting for you.

Your popularity is almost overwhelming, but it’s also so fun. It's a way to let off steam and express yourselves, and if that draws a crowd, you can't complain.

With a couple of minutes before showtime, you laugh with your bandmates, chatting as you pass a joint around.

Jackie’s pleased with herself, having managed to get Nat to dress up (secretly matching what Lottie's wearing), and you’ve forcibly applied glitter to Van’s face. She had rolled her eyes and said she was “too cool for sparkles”, but there was little she could do when you sat in her lap and applied the makeup with a grin.

“You guys are up.”

You take your place on the stage, gripping the mic as the others find their instruments.

You’re not the only one with a decent voice, but Lottie absolutely refuses to sing and Nat feels more at home on the guitar, so naturally, you became the lead singer.

You write most of the songs too, occasionally with the help of Shauna, who isn’t officially a part of the band, but she hangs around enough to be included.

People adore your songs, the raw talent and energy you all have, the authentic words you sing, they just don’t know who they’re about.

The fans have their theories, of course.

Maybe she has a partner? I heard Jackie wrote the songs about her boyfriend… or maybe about that girl who’s friends with the band? No, it’s Lottie and Nat, have you seen how they look at each other?! - That one always makes you laugh, the two of them are completely oblivious to each other’s feelings, and it's hilarious how the fans have picked up on them but not you and Van.

For some reason, no one ever suspects a thing about you two. The fans never catch how she looks at you or how you always gravitate towards the drummer as you parade around the stage.

The two of you got together around the same time the band had formed, sneaking around after practice and making eyes at each other during gigs. It was exhilarating. Then the band found out - rather quickly because the two of you were extremely obvious around your friends, and suddenly half your songs were about her.

You’re the front woman and Van’s the muse. You sing your heart out to fans who cheer your name, and she plays the drums behind you, knowing you'll run to her after the show.

Van can’t help but feel a little jealous about how much the fans practically worship you though. Of course, she loves sitting back and watching you perform with your pretty outfits and messy hair. What she doesn’t love is how much the fans enjoy it too, especially without knowing who gets to call you theirs.

But she can’t blame them, not really, you just look so confident, like a real rockstar. Plus, you both decided not to publicize it for the sake of being professional.

Though that doesn’t stop either of you from trying to hint at your relationship. You point to her during your favorite songs, smiling as you sing, and she always introduces the band to the crowd, never failing to compliment you,

“Our beautiful lead singer!”

You thought you’d done enough the time Van came on stage with a lipstick kiss on her cheek in the exact shade you were wearing, but somehow they didn’t connect the dots. Hell, you even wrote a song basically spelling the situation out and it still didn't work.

You love your fans, but god they're clueless.

You can feel Van staring in the middle of your set, playing the drums on autopilot as you sing the words you wrote only for her. It always gives her a small sense of pride, the way you sing about her so passionately, so honestly. It makes the fact that the fans can't comprehend you're together a little sweeter.

You laugh into the mic as you turn to face her, she looks completely bewitched - it’s the same face some fans have when you get up close to the crowd.

There in the moment, something hits you. It's fun to sneak around and wait for the fans to spread rumors, but you love her, and you need them to know it. Plus, they obviously won't be figuring it out by themselves any time soon.

Before she can stop you, you pull her up from the drum kit, the song doesn’t need a beat anyway.

“What are you doing?”

Still singing your sweet words - albeit slightly giggly and out of breath, you shrug off her questioning, pulling her to the middle of the stage, careful not to tangle her in the cord of the microphone.

You’re practically serenading her, and she’s gone completely red. Sure, that’s what you do every time you write a new song, but in private with just the two of you, never in front of the entire crowd.

Still gripping her drumsticks, she’s standing next to you awkwardly, trying to block out the crowd’s cheering. She’s not used to being front and center, but she does her best to focus on you.

Stage presence has become obsolete and you refuse to break eye contact as you sing. She’s watching you like no one else matters, and no one does. All you care about is showing her how much she means to you.

By the end of the song, she’s redder than the pub lights and smiling at you like you’re the only one there. She’s standing in front of countless fans who are probably in love with you, but you’re in love with her.

To set the record straight once and for all, she pulls you in for a kiss, smiling against your lips as you kiss her back, ignoring the screams of the crowd.

Finally, you declare just who you’ve been singing about.

taglist 💌: @callsignwidow My requests are open (and slowly being worked on) <3 masterlist

[layla4567]

Language of Love

Gn!Spanish speaker!reader x Thunderbolts*

Warnings: Spanish curse words

BOB REYNOLDS

💋 He loves you every time you speak Spanish, he just stares at you like he's seeing an angel, pure devotion and admiration

💋 Secretly he also wants to learn so he can start conversations with you, even though you also know English. Bob simply feels that it is a way to get to know you better and be closer to you.

💋 So he start reading articles in Spanish online, buy books in that language, and even take classes or courses online.

💋 He's a little shy when trying to talk to you in your language and when you ask him how much he's learned so far he sweetly just says "un poquito"

💋 You are more than happy to help him improve his language skills (although despite some language stumbles, he does quite well).

💋 You start sticking Post-it notes on objects throughout the tower, like the kitchen refrigerator or the bathroom sink, so he can learn more easily. Although more than one teammate has complained about getting a Post-it note stuck to his shoe.

JOHN WALKER

💋 Whenever he listens to you, he boasts that it's no big deal and that he could speak your language without any problems and even do it better.

💋 But the reality is that he is jealous that you know something that he doesn't.

💋 You decide to test him and give him a tongue twister to recite. He clearly does poorly at it, and while everyone laughs, he realizes your prank and walks away feeling humiliated.

💋 Arguments with him are always hilarious. You always say "Concha tu madre", or "Vete a la mierda" And he just stares at you, confused. And only when you're really angry do you practically start ranting in Spanish, forgetting that he can't understand you. When you stalk off, huffing and puffing, John asks the others, perplexed, "What did they just say?"

💋 You promised yourself that until he stopped having an ego as big as a house, you wouldn't deign to explain to him what the words you use from time to time mean. Finally, John gives in and agrees to let you teach him a word or two.

💋 In fact, it's helpful because he inadvertently starts copying your mannerisms, and every time he gets frustrated, he lets out a bad word in Spanish. Sometimes he pronounces them wrong, but at least he knows what it means.

AVA STARR

💋 At first she thinks you're doing it to show off, so she looks at you suspiciously or rolls her eyes.

💋 but she becomes interested in you when she realizes it's actually your native language (obviously she hides her curiosity or downplays it when inside she's dying to know more)

💋 Secretly she tries to repeat to herself the words she once heard you say, only the most beautiful ones that seemed to her, like "arcoiris" or "paisaje"

💋 Ava doesn't dare ask you to teach her how to pronounce them correctly, so she just convinces herself that she is pronouncing them correctly.

💋 Somehow you find out and since you know she will never ask you, you simply leave her a note in her room with several words and her way of pronouncing them.

💋 From that moment on, you two exchange notes or small letters in Spanish, either under the table or in each other's room without anyone knowing.

YELENA BELOVA

💋 She's not surprised that there's another bilingual person in the group or when you throw out random Spanish words; she and her father do it all the time with Russian.

💋 In fact, she finds it funny and even cute. She doesn't understand much of what you say, but thanks to the fact that she speaks two languages, her brain already intuits the phonemes and relates them to words she already knows, so she just guesses and often gets it right.

💋 You two agree to annoy Walker, out of nowhere you start having a small conversation in your native languages ​​and although neither of you know what you are saying, you are amused that John also has no clue.

💋 Eventually you both will teach each other phrases in the other's language and you even add Ava to the conversation teaching her what you know too, just to make fun of the US. Agent (and Ava is more than happy to) You love to see him get angry.

💋 But this is also useful when both have to work as spies since they need to speak in code and what better way to do it than in languages ​​that not many people speak?

💋 You two have the best insults, that's the tweet 🤝

ALEXEI SHOSTAKOV

💋 He's excited the moment he hears you speak. He'll be all ears.

💋 He'll ask you a thousand questions, like where are you from? Where did you learn to say that? etc. He's like a kid with his favorite superhero.

💋 He wants, no, he NEEDS to learn your language. He constantly asks you to teach him at least one word.

💋 At first, he seems to learn quickly, but when you try to teach him long sentences, everything goes to hell. "I told you a thousand times, it's puedes pasarme la sal?. It's not that hard, geez."

💋 very protective of you, if someone makes fun of your accent he will defend you no matter what.

💋 Many times he's wanted to include a Spanish word when arguing with someone. "Yeah, and you are...! *turns to look at you* Wait, what did you say? Oh, yes, a mamahuevo!"

BUCKY BARNES

💋 Bucky surprisingly already knows Spanish so you can't tease him by saying some funny word because he'll just reply "Nice try, and watch your language"

💋 You caught him listening to Latin music several times.

💋 He never tries to speak Spanish unless it's in his job as a congressman, but when he's simply in the tower, he's content to listen to you speak.

💋 He is the type of person who will have a conversation with you, but you will speak Spanish and he will speak English, and yet he will understand you and answer you correctly in English.

💋 He's also secretly amused when you argue with Walker and insult him, it's as if you're doing what he'd like every time John goes too far, and when that happen, he smiles slightly.

💋 Although he speaks Spanish, isn't perfect either, when he says a word wrong or forgets one, you helped him and he thanks you. And like Alexei, Bucky is very protective of you; he's not afraid to hit someone if they made you feel bad.

[dxrlingluv]

Love is a hassle

A/N : I saw this Telescope x Reader x Antivirus idea and I was like- “Yes.” Credits to @professionalyapper13 for this idea! Telemachus and Antinous art is from Duvetbox.

WARNING : GN!Reader, Love. Not recommended for single people(like me).

Word Count : 1.9k

The grand hall of Ithaca was a symphony of chaos, and you, unfortunately, had a front-row seat. On one side, you had Telemachus, Prince of Ithaca, his brow perpetually furrowed with the weight of a kingdom he wasn't sure he could hold. On the other, you had Antinous, the de facto leader of the suitors, all arrogant smirks and infuriating charm. And there you were, caught squarely in the middle, a tiny, neutral nation caught between two warring superpowers.

Your friendship with Telemachus was born of shared grief and quiet understanding. You had grown up in the palace, a companion who saw past the prince to the worried young man beneath. Your connection with Antinous, however, was a far more baffling affair. It had started with traded barbs and witty insults, a game of verbal sparring that slowly, treacherously, morphed into something resembling begrudging respect, and then... affection.

It was a situation that was, to put it mildly, a mess. A hilarious, frustrating, and strangely wholesome mess.

—————

"This is a lovely idea," Telemachus said, his smile so tight it looked like it might crack his face. He sat stiffly at the small table you had set up in a quiet alcove of the gardens, away from the clamor of the main hall.

"Indeed," Antinous purred, leaning back in his chair with an air of theatrical relaxation. He picked up a grape, examining it as if it were a rare jewel. "A private dinner. Just the three of us. So... cozy.”

You sighed, pushing a plate of olives towards the center of the table. "Can we please just try to have one meal without any underlying tension? For me?"

They both looked at you, their expressions softening instantly. It was the one thing they could agree on: your happiness.

"Of course," Telemachus said earnestly.

"Anything for you," Antinous agreed, his voice a low murmur.

The peace lasted for approximately thirty seconds.

"It's a shame the wine isn't better," Antinous commented, swirling the dark liquid in his cup. "But I suppose with the master of the house gone for so long, the cellars have been... neglected. Much like everything else."

Telemachus's jaw tightened. "The wine is fine. It's a humble vintage, for a humble meal."

"Humble indeed," Antinous mused, his eyes flicking over the simple fare of bread, cheese, and fruit. "I had a feast prepared in the great hall. Roasted boar, spiced wine, honey cakes... I would have invited you, of course," he added, his gaze locking with yours, "but I didn't want to impose on your... rustic gathering."

"We are perfectly happy with our rustic gathering," Telemachus snapped, breaking a piece of bread with more force than was strictly necessary.

You decided to intervene. "Antinous, that's very thoughtful of you. Telemachus, could you pass the cheese?" You were a diplomat, a peacekeeper, a referee in a game where you weren't even sure of the rules.

Telemachus passed you the cheese, his hand brushing yours for a moment longer than accidental. Across the table, Antinous's eyes narrowed. He casually stretched his legs, his foot "accidentally" knocking against Telemachus's under the table. Telemachus kicked back. You pretended not to notice the silent war being waged beneath the woodwork.

"So," you said brightly, desperately trying to steer the conversation to safer waters. "Did either of you see that beautiful sunrise this morning?"

Telemachus lit up. "I did! I was up early, reviewing the palace ledgers. The way the light hit the cliffs was magnificent."

"I saw it too," Antinous said smoothly. "I was on my way back from a late-night ride. There's nothing quite like the feel of a powerful horse under you as the world awakens." He shot Telemachus a look that clearly implied some people were stuck inside with boring paperwork while real men were out having adventures.

You closed your eyes for a brief second, praying for a divine intervention. A stray thunderbolt, perhaps. Just a small one.

—————

Somehow, you had managed to convince them both to escort you to the local market. Your reasoning was that you needed help carrying things. Their reasoning was that they couldn't let the other go alone with you.

The marketplace was a vibrant, bustling place, and for a while, the sensory overload kept them distracted. But it wasn't long before their competitive streaks resurfaced.

It started at the fruit stall.

"I'll get the apples," Telemachus announced, already selecting the most perfect, unblemished ones he could find. "I know you like the crisp, green ones."

"A fine choice," Antinous said, appearing at your other side with a basket of figs. "But a discerning palate such as yours requires something more complex. These figs are like nectar from the gods. Sweet, rich... decadent." He offered you one, his thumb brushing your lips as you took it.

You were still savoring the taste when Telemachus returned, holding out a gleaming red pomegranate. "Or this," he said, his voice determined. "It's a symbol of life and prosperity. And it's much healthier."

You ended up with an armful of apples, figs, and a pomegranate, feeling less like a shopper and more like a prize mule at a county fair.

The true disaster struck near the pottery stalls. A merchant's cart, overloaded with clay pots, broke a wheel and tipped, sending its contents tumbling towards a group of startled children.

Before you could even shout a warning, your two companions sprang into action. The problem was, they sprang in opposite directions.

Telemachus, ever the protector, immediately ran to shield the children, gathering them in his arms and herding them out of the way. It was brave, noble, and heroic.

Antinous, ever the pragmatist, did something entirely different. With a speed that belied his lazy demeanor, he lunged for the cart itself, bracing his shoulder against it and, with a great heave, stopping its momentum just enough to divert the main cascade of falling pottery.

It was incredibly impressive and probably saved the merchant a fortune.

They both turned to look at you, chests heaving, silently demanding to know who had done the better job of being a hero.

You simply stared at them, then at the mess, then back at them. "You're both going to help him pick that up," you declared.

The look of shared horror on their faces was, you had to admit, priceless.

—————

There were times, however, when the world narrowed, and it was just you and one of them. These were the moments that made the chaos worthwhile.

One evening, you found Telemachus on a balcony overlooking the sea, his shoulders slumped. The usual tension was gone, replaced by a profound weariness. You stood beside him in silence, following his gaze to the wine-dark water.

"Sometimes I think I'm going to fail," he confessed, his voice barely a whisper. "That they'll take everything my father built, and I won't be strong enough to stop them." He turned to you, his eyes filled with a vulnerability he showed no one else. "You're the only one who doesn't look at me and see a boy playing at being king. You just see... me."

He reached out, his fingers gently tracing your jawline. "You're my anchor, you know that? In all this madness, you're the only thing that feels real."

It was a simple, honest declaration that made your heart ache with affection.

A few days later, you were seeking refuge from the suitors' rowdiness in the palace library when you found Antinous there, surprisingly, reading. He looked up as you entered, and for a fleeting moment, his guard was down. There was no smirk, no challenge in his eyes, just a quiet intensity.

"Hiding from my uncivilized brethren?" he asked, a hint of a genuine smile playing on his lips.

"Something like that," you admitted, running your fingers over the spine of a scroll.

He stood and walked over to a high shelf, retrieving a small, leather-bound book. "I remembered you saying you enjoyed the lyric poets," he said, his voice softer than you were used to. "This is a collection from Sappho. I thought... you might like it."

You took the book, stunned. He had not only listened but had remembered a passing comment you'd made weeks ago. He had done something purely for you, with no audience and no angle.

"Thank you, Antinous," you said, your voice thick with emotion. "This is... this is incredibly thoughtful."

He just gave a small, self-deprecating shrug, but he couldn't quite hide the pleased glimmer in his eyes. "Don't tell anyone. It would ruin my reputation."

—————

The annual harvest feast was the stage for their grandest conflict yet. It involved a dispute over an archery contest, a heated argument about who had the right to propose a toast in the queen's honor, and it culminated in them knocking over an entire table of food while trying to "out-gallantly" each other by pulling out your chair at the same time.

Wine, figs, and shattered pottery splattered across the floor. The hall fell silent. Everyone stared.

You had never been more mortified.

Without a word, you turned on your heel and stalked out of the hall. The sound of two pairs of footsteps scrambling after you was immediate.

You led them to the now-familiar garden alcove and whirled around to face them, your hands on your hips.

"Are you finished?" you demanded, your voice trembling with a mixture of anger and embarrassment. "Do you have any idea how that felt? To be made into a spectacle? A prize to be fought over like a side of beef?"

They both had the decency to look ashamed.

"That wasn't my intention," Telemachus said, his face flushed. "I just... he's so disrespectful—"

"I was merely trying to show you the courtesy a prince should," Antinous cut in, for once looking slightly less than perfectly composed. "He has no idea how to treat someone of your worth."

"Stop it!" you cried, throwing your hands up in exasperation. "Just stop. Both of you. I care about you. Both of you! In ways that I don't even understand myself yet. But I cannot do this. I can't live in the middle of your battlefield." You took a deep breath. "So you have a choice. You can either figure out how to be civil to each other, or you can both leave me alone."

The silence that followed was heavy. They looked at each other, really looked, for the first time not as rivals, but as two people who were about to lose the same, very important thing.

Finally, Antinous let out a long, weary sigh. He looked at Telemachus, his expression grim. "I... apologize for my role in this evening's... theatrics."

Telemachus looked shocked, but he recovered quickly, nodding stiffly. "And I... for mine. Your behavior was... provoked." It was the closest to a compliment he would probably ever give him.

They both turned back to you, their faces a mixture of hope and trepidation.

Your anger had already begun to fade, replaced by a weary fondness. Looking at them, the earnest, worried prince and the arrogant, surprisingly tender suitor, you couldn't help but smile a little.

"A truce, then?" you asked softly.

They looked at each other again. A silent, complex negotiation passed between them.

"A truce," Telemachus finally agreed.

Antinous gave a slight, almost imperceptible nod. "For now."

And as the three of you stood there in the moonlight, surrounded by the scent of jasmine and the distant sounds of the feast you had abandoned, you knew things were far from resolved. But for the first time, it felt like maybe, just maybe, they didn't have to be a disaster. It was your chaos, after all. And in its own strange way, it was starting to feel a lot like home.

[amellderiva]

My army of hot Rooks

I'm not exactly sure what's the purpose of this post other than my need to ramble, but if you find some enjoyment in it, then hey, it's a win-win for the both of us!

Calypso de Riva

elf-blooded human (27) | spellblade mage | antivan crow | solasmancer

The first of the bunch, mom's unlikely favorite, the one with tragedy in her blood. Fiercely loyal, though in a clingy way, hilarious, though in a cringe-y kind of way, yet somehow still charming. She has endless empathy for others and almost none left for herself. Everything that goes wrong has to be her fault, obviously. She could be literally perfect and still find a flaw to punish herself for, because... idk, she wasn't loved enough as a child? She's the only one of the gang who hated herself just enough to fall for the voice in her head that betrayed her time and time again. She grew up in a Circle listening to how she was being punished by the Maker, maybe that's why.

Astrid Thorne

dwarf (22) | champion warrior | grey warden | lucanismancer

The baby of the bunch, with that unshakable optimism and kindness you only ever find in the young. She's uncertain (about herself, about the world), as the events of Veilguard check off a long list of painful firsts in her life, but she's got a stellar poker face and a steady inner compass that always points to what's right to balance that out. Probably the only one who never let her anger outweigh her pity for Solas. A huge fan of both Lucanis and Spite (equally!), but not exactly thrilled about what their relationship might mean for her future. She respects the Crows as individuals, but perhaps not as an organization? And she actually likes being a Grey Warden, the purpose and the knowledge that she's helping. She'd hate to give that up to become the wife of the First Talon.

Porcia Mercar

elf (29) | duelist rogue | shadow dragon | nevemancer

Easily the most photogenic (probably thanks to that glorious bone structure), and very likely hiding many, many secrets in that hair of hers. She's a "stab first, ask questions later" kind of gal, with anger issues she should really look into. Or at least try to reign in. But she enjoys the intensity of wanting to murder people over the tiniest inconveniences, like walking too slowly in front of her. Or looking at her wrong. Or, even worse, looking at Neve wrong. Don't do that. She has deeply conflicted feelings about Tevinter: on Monday, she wants to burn the whole place down, but by Tuesday, she'd throw herself into the fire to protect it. Hates Solas with the passion of a thousand suns. Frankly, she should've stabbed him more. Stupid ass bitch, how can you fuck up so many plans in a row?

Eurydice Ingellvar

qunari (33) | evoker mage | mourn watcher | davrinmancer

The one who actually has her life together. She knows her strengths, knows her flaws, knows what she likes and what she'll absolutely not tolerate, and she makes her decisions accordingly. She's that friend; you know, the one so competent it's kind of unfair, which somehow makes them insanely attractive, because the adulting is adulting. She's kind without being overbearing and confident without screaming main character energy. Sometimes she drifts into a daydream and gets this ethereal, not entirely here aura, but then she snaps back with the perfect solution to whatever disaster is unfolding. It's amazing. She is amazing, if I can say so myself. Half her friendships implode because people just keep falling in love with her. She's fully convinced she could fix Solas with one hour of weekly conversation over the span of six months. She calls Vorgoth "father" when it's just the two of them. Not in a sexual way.

Evander Aldwir

elf (24) | slayer warrior | veil jumper | bellaramancer

A bit of a himbo, with a generous dash of "notice me senpai" energy. His heart's in the right place, but his impulse control is terminally absent. Sometimes that leads to goofy mishaps, and other times... well, murder. He tends to make rash, heat-of the-moment decisions he soon regrets, but since he hasn't connected the dots between that and his frantic desire to seem grown up, capable, and leader-like, progress isn't even on the table yet. He's deeply manipulable (he wants to believe in/to people), and an absolute simp. Like, if the game would let me, he'd be the party's communal bicycle. Thinks he's a real ladies' man. He's not. Originally a city elf who tried to go Dalish but never really fit in – still salty about that, and way too quick to insult the same gods he worshipped yesterday. He does love his vallaslin, though. And he's convinced Solas probably didn't get much action with the ladies either, which is obviously why he's so self-sabotaging.

Lesha Laidir

human (??) | death caller mage | lord of fortune | taashmancer

She's the group's adrenaline junkie; not full-blown, but definitely hovering in that sweet, reckless zone. The bigger the threat, the better she feels, because the focus that comes with that quiets the general chaos in her mind. She has amnesia, which is just my way of explaining why she looks like a carbon copy of my canon HoF (is it time travel, is it an au, is she an Amell bastard? nobody knows, especially not her). Some days she's chill about it; other days, the need to remember who she was hits so hard she throws herself headfirst into danger just to feel something. Hobbies are a nightmare – everything she tries, her brain goes into overdrive with conspiracy theories about how it might connect to her past. It's exhausting. So instead, she drinks, fights, and lives as hedonistically as the world allows. She wants nothing to do with Solas or any of that ancient elven nonsense. Elga-who? Fen-howrel? And more importantly, why? The past should stay dead and rotting, thank you. She's deeply fond of Taash, and tried to stay away from them as long as she could, believing that they deserve better than her. Taash said that's vashedan.

[haedia]

I know a lot of people see Lucanis as a sub, which fine if you do. But that man is a bratty switch to me. His >:3c isn't as front and center as it is in Tevinter Nights but it's not not there in veilguard. (especially in his friendship with Davrin. That man can be such a bitch, lol)

So, with that context, I feel that as soon as he has a confident foundation in pleasing Rook, his gremlin attitude is going to assert itself.

Lucanis will absolutely rile Rook up in public or other Situations where they can't do anything about it until later: be it with surreptitious touches, or smoldering looks, or innuendo. The how is varied, depending on where they are, but he's relentless in getting them Bothered and he relishes in watching them struggle to hide their reactions.

Add in his heightened sense of smell and, well, he'll be able to tell just how effective he's being (especially if Rook has a cunt).

Eventually, Lucanis is going to experience edging and then things are gonna get "worse" for Rook. Because that man would absolutely love bringing his partner to the edge, holding them there, but not letting them tip over, especially when he sees just how hard they come apart for him afterwards.

It won't be an every time thing but it will absolutely be in his arsenal. And, after a long evening of riling Rook up at a Crow event? Lucanis will find it hard to resist holding Rook on the cusp of relief until they choke out a plea, tears brimming. And when they tip over? A broken sob of a moan escapes them as they make a mess in their relief. I think both Lucanis and Spite would feel pride over reducing their Rook to such a state.

As for when Rook takes control, I think all he needs is for them to thread their fingers into his hair, close to the scalp, and give him a firm tug and he'll turn to putty in their hands. Pair that motion with a lick then bite to the throat and he'll hiss and moan involuntarily and be immediately pliant.

If Rook is also a switch, I could see the two of them ending up in a bit of a fight for control at times, with each of them trying to leverage their different buttons/triggers to encourage the other to either swap into their sub state or more Dom state. This also leaves room for a lot of fun, almost silly sex interactions which I think both of them would cherish. Because let's face it: sex can be ridiculous and a sexy switch slap fight is hilarious and ultimately enjoyable for those involved. It just takes a few twists and turns to get there.

Praise also is a thing Lucanis responds well to. Though I think any praise kink he has is, probably fairly mild (Illario is the one that will fall apart for you at receiving genuine praise, but you know that already). I think Lucanis gets more out of praising Rook, especially if Rook discovers that they have a praise kink. But, yeah, Lucanis is not immune to it.

Circling back to gremlin mode Lucanis, I think he'd absolutely be the kind of person to casually side-step into an alley or other dark space and just quickly turn Rook into a trembling mess before resuming whatever it was they were doing. Again, if Rook has a cunt, he's absolutely going to love having the scent of them lingering in his beard afterwards. Basically using the scent to rile himself up for later.

Regarding Spite: initially, I think Spite is uninterested in things of a sexual nature. Him having access to a physical form is new and weird. Though, after Inner Demons, when the two of them reach a new accord, I think Spite doesn't just learn the difference between mental and physical space, he also starts to explore physical sensation more fully. (I think the two of them learn to "share" Lucanis' body at least at times so Spite can be more present without having to shove Lucanis out of the way)

In a nonsexual context, this allows Spite to start to develop his own preferences for things like scents and flavors. But this accord and new way of being two beings in one form means Spite is able to process physical touch in a way he wasn't able to before. He can feel Lucanis' reactions to things, too, and starts understanding why it feels good and what makes it feel better.

Eventually, Spite will ask to directly participate and after some discussion and guided sessions, he starts to develop his own tastes there as well. Spite is, unsurprisingly, also pretty bratty when he's in the right mood for it. But he wants control. He wants to be the reason Rook reacts that way and smells like that. And I think Spite gets competitive between him and Lucanis, in regards to who can make Rook make the biggest mess or make them cum the hardest/loudest.

And yes, I think eventually, Spite gets proficient at bringing Rook into Lucanis' mind for threesome fun.

Okay that was a lot. There's probably more but that's a good amount. c:

OH! I almost forgot. Though I think between the two, Illario has the bigger cock overall, I'm a firm (lol) believer that Lucanis' is like, unreasonably thick. Length? Eh, whatever. He could be average or whatever but girth? He's gonna leave Rook aching from the stretch every time.

I am having the worst, most terrible day. Please tell me your smutty rookanis headcanons 👉👈 Who usually initiates and how, something they tried that didn’t go according to plan, kinks they have. Tell me literally anything

[jayktoralldaylong]

Oh my gosh 💀💀💀💀😂😂😂😂😭😭😭

What did they expect to happen? 😫 Were they expecting her to just jump the bones of the most powerful person in the kingdom? 💀 That would be frightening for both sides.

Sex can be terrifying for someone who doesn't know what's happening, especially someone unused to touch. 💔

I guess they assumed the sight of a naked woman would spur natural instinct. I can't exactly fault the logic since men are supposedly visual learners. But they do realise that they raised Susebron as the world's most powerful introvert right? 💀💀💀 No one even bothered to explain the basics to him. My gosh. 😭😭😭

They purposely isolated his movement as well as his ability to learn, forcing ignorance and obedience down his throat, and they somehow expected him to figure this out without any orders or direction?

They really planned on having the woman do everything. But how? 💀 The wives are often terrified. 😂😭 I guess they didn't care how it got done as long as it got done. And Siri found a way to get things done without doing shit. 😂😭 (She's just making sounds).

I started to suspect that he was scared of her when he tensed the first time she stood up. 😂💔

Now I'm imagining both of them terrified as they wait for the other to make a move. It's worse for Siri but Susebron had no idea what to expect. He was probably fine just sitting there since he thought that was how the process worked. Imagine his surprise when she started dancing on the bed. 😂😂😂 He most have been both amazed and confused. Both peeking glances at each other.

At some point she started treating him like he was a statue. 💀 She nearly lost her mind the night he finally decided to reach out.

Pffft 😂😂😭😭😭

[moongothic]

Quick round-up of a few small projects; Scarf. It is a scarf. Used the remaining silk/wool yarn I had left from when our yarn store closed, the yarn was really thin so I ended up holding it double and yeah, got a really cute, comfy Halloween-y scarf. Very happy to have it. I do regret making the stripes as thick as I did, like they look cute but between that and me making the scarf a smidge too wide, I ended up having to cut the scarf shorter than I would've liked because I didn't have enough yarn to make it any longer- at least not with evenly sized stripes. Like had they been thinner I could've repeated the pattern a little longer, but oh well, it is what it is. With the scrap yarn I just made this ugly little neck warmer, and yeah, it'll keep my neck warm indoors.

And then, using the scrap yarns from the bleeding heart sweater, made a very Crimbus-y beanie. Sidenote but I did actually pre-wash the fucking red yarn before knitting this, because I did not want a repeat of the dye bleeding incident. But yeah, it's a beanie. Again, held the yarn double this time and I'm glad I did because oh, it made the beanie so soft. It is so comfy y'all, I can not wait for December so I can wear it. I still have more of that red yarn left though. No clue what I'm doing with it.

[tonycries]

Welcome To The Itadori's! - C.K.

Synopsis. Three times Choso really, really wanted to hold you without his family barging in, and the one time he actually does. 

Pairing. Best friend! Choso Kamo x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, childhood best friends to lovers, slowburn, cameos from the Itadori’s (Yuji, Jin, grandpa, SUKUNA), smút only when they’re adults, first times, oral (female receiving), cúnnilingus, marking, rough, Choso’s a bit mean in bed, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 5.0k

A/N. The unc-kuna brainrot got me here, Yuji’s family tree is HILARIOUS.

“You’ve never what?”  

“I mean, yeah? So what if I’ve never…uh-” eyes darting to the erotic scene on-screen. “M’surely not missing out on that much.”

Maybe he was. Maybe he wasn’t. Whatever the answer was, Choso could only pray that no one walked into your apartment right now.

---

Choso swears his family is well and fully intent on ruining every waking moment with you. 

He’s convinced even, at this point. Because in the 13 long years of being inseparable from you - ever since you were both whiney, snot-faced brats - Choso’s racked up more interruptions than he’s seen on those k-dramas that his grandfather swears he doesn’t watch.

It was like some cosmic joke, really. All he wanted was a moment with just the two of you…and maybe a second or two to confess his undying love. But that didn’t seem too realistic when the Itadori’s were a bit of a packaged deal, unfortunately.  

Alas, Choso’s resigned himself to accept the fact that maybe - just maybe - this was the universe’s way of telling him that his pretty best friend was indeed too good for him. Something he’s suspected ever since the both of you were eight.

The realization had hit him like a semi-truck back then - five of them, in fact. And a whole zoo of animals afterward.

Of course, it’s not like that was any secret. He always thought you were perfect from the second you’d moved in - that new family next door he’d been eagerly waiting ages to arrive. And Choso, being the dutiful oldest son, was the one to deliver welcome cookies to your doorstep. Stumbling, and carefully trying to reach for the doorbell without dropping any. 

“Um, welcome to-”

“Your hair’s funny.”

Now, Choso’s never greeted neighbors before, but it surely wasn’t supposed to go like this. Why was he being insulted by some little girl - you were missing a few teeth, and his had just grown back in so obviously he was much older and wiser. All unapologetic smiles and twinkling eyes as you blink up curiously at his space buns. Pretty, even when you were tearing his heart out because hey, he thought this hairstyle was cool, okay?

Which is what had him huffing and puffing back home, running straight into the arms of his dad while he tried not to cry. That is, until you came knocking at his door with your parents. Very much bawling and pulling him into a bone-crushing hug with wet mumbles of “M’sorry, meant your hair’s very cool. Wanna match-”

And, if his cheeks burned just a bit, well, Choso blamed the tears. 

After a disaster like that, of course you’d grow to be best friends within the day. 

But what that didn’t explain was when - after hours of bickering over whether to play tag or house - you were all tuckered out and sat beside him in a corner of his room, too exhausted to talk his ear off. Head lolling once. Twice. Falling softly onto his shoulder.

Oh. 

Now, Choso might just be having the first epiphany of his entire, grueling eight years in this world - that you were very, very pretty fast asleep with your head on his shoulder. 

Why? Why were you here barging into his life and turning it upside down? Calling him your “new best friend” and dragging him along wherever you went. It made his poor head absolutely spin, not daring to move a muscle so that you didn’t wake up and see this tiny predicament.

He didn’t know why. But what he did know was that he found himself subconsciously reaching for your hand, a strange little part of himself wanting to see how much smaller they were than his. They looked so soft and warm and-

“I WANNA PLAY T- Oh.”

Oh indeed. He hastily lurches away from you like it burned, hands raised like he was caught red-handed. Feeling slightly sorry when he sees you blinking away the sleep to take in your surroundings, eyes bouncing off of a very excited Yuji and resting on the clock.

“Oh no. Mommy’s gonna be mad.” you gasp, hastily getting up. And he feels a weird pang as you quickly dust down your dress, running out the door with a laughed out, “Bye, Yuji! See ya later, Cho~!”

“Bye, crybaby.”

And then it’s quiet. Only Choso still staring after you, and Yuji staring at his older brother, somewhat awestruck and wondering only one thing-

“Big bro, why are you so red?”

Choso doesn’t think he’s gotten a moment alone with you since that first initial meeting. 

Fourteen was definitely the worst, in his opinion.

“Hey, Cho, y’know the girl sitting next to me in math said she had her first kiss today.”

“Oh.” It’s all Choso can manage to get out, paying more attention than he should to the gravel beneath him as he tries not to trip over air beside you. Hot under his uniform collar at the sudden shift in conversation from the usual after-school banter. 

Looping your arm with his, you heave out a playful sigh, “I wonder what that feels like. Have you ever thought about it?” 

No, but Choso has never thought that he’d be here - face burning at your body pressed up against his. Just knowing that his ancestors above are laughing at what a loser he is, barely able to stammer out an answer to your question. 

Okay, maybe he was being dramatic. Because it wasn’t like he hadn’t thought about kissing before - it’s just that whenever it popped into his mind, you were usually accompanying him. Along with those strange thoughts of whether your lips are as soft as they looked? Or would your heartbeat be as fast as-

“Man, are you even listening?” 

Shit. 

Your hand waving in front of Choso’s face brings him back to reality. Blinking hastily, he tries to gather his thoughts, mumbling out a quick, “Uh, yeah, sorry. Just lost in thought.” averting his gaze as he feels the heat rise to his cheeks at your intense gaze.

Your smile only widens, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you nudge his side. “Thinking so hard about kissing, huh? Cho, you lecher!” 

“Am not.”

“Am to.”

“Am not.”

“Am to.”

“Who were you imagining it with, huh? Gonna give ‘em a big smooch tomorrow?”

God, you were going to be the death of him. “N-no! I haven’t even- shut up, crybaby, it’s not like-” he sputters out useless protests over your laughter - his favorite song, even when you were teasing the hell out of him. But ah how you relish in his embarrassment, tittering out little giggles all the way until you’re steering him onto your lane. 

Choso, on the other hand, keeps wishing the ground would swallow him up more and more with each step towards his porch. He’d have broken into a sprint right then if he hadn’t known you and the way you’d race him there instead.

“Alright.” you declare once you’re stood at his front door, jolting Choso out of his reverie. And he’s barely opening his mouth to register your words before you plowing on confidently. “We’ll just have to practice our first kisses with each other.”

Perfect. Great. Wonderful. 

The final nail on his coffin. You might as well have planted a bombshell right in the middle of his already-chaotic world with the way he was reeling in- shock? Fear? Anticipation?

“Practice.” Choso whispers, more to himself than you. Yet you nod anyway, eyes locked with his like you were studying his reaction. “For…practice.”

Doubt starts to creep into your pretty features, “Well, we don’t have to if you do-”

“No no no no, I want- ahem.” he cringes at the pathetic desperation in his voice. Desperately trying to scramble back some semblance of sanity as he clears his throat, “I want to. Just-” Choso urgently looks around for- ah, there it is. 

Dragging over the brick from the side of his porch because goddammit he might be 14 but he sure hadn’t hit that growth spurt yet. “Practice, right?”

You nod with a fiery determination that, later on, would make Choso chuckle with fondness. Muttering out a firm, “Practice.” Letting the boy in front of you nervously leans closer, breath fanning your face. And shit if you were nervous then you didn’t show it, but Choso felt like he was about to spontaneously combust. 

Brows furrowing in concentration, eyes only squinting ever-so-slightly as he takes peaks at how pretty you looked. Close enough that he could count every lash as your pretty eyes closed shut, lips glistening with that strawberry chapstick you loved, puckering adorably. Only inching closer and-

Click! 

“You two are so cute! But um- dear, how do you mute this thing?”

You spring apart so fast that Choso wouldn’t be surprised if you’d teleported. He doesn’t even know what’s happening before, from the safety of about three meters away from him, you’re muttering out an embarrassed little, “Hi there, Mr. Itadori. The gardenia are coming along nicely.”

His dad smiles like he hadn’t just starred in what was likely Choso’s villain origin story. Waving happily, “Aww, thank you, sweetheart. Now, why don’t you two go back to doing your lil’ thing and I can ah- practice my photography.”

“Dad, I’m running away.”

That practice kiss never happens. And, well, if there was a proudly framed photo down the hallway of the two of you - with Choso absolutely bright red and standing comically on a brick to meet your height, faces nervously scrunching towards each other - well, neither of you ever mention it. Jin Itadori does, though - every time you come over, in fact. 

It’s only when you’re both eighteen, when Choso’s a lot deeper in his feelings - and only slightly less embarrassed about it - that he thinks that maybe not all family interruptions were that bad. 

Graduation was…something. Not exactly something that he’s sure if he’ll ever want to relive with the sheer amount of awkward photos and tears that his dad lets out. God if he has to shuffle into another-

“You alright, Cho?”

Ah. 

Traitorously, a smile makes its way onto his face, peering down at your beaming face. Both of you having made it way past the awkward early teens. Well, at least you certainly have - Choso still feels like the same awkward little boy with an even more awkward crush. “Hm? Yeah, m’great.” 

“Are ya sure? Because you look like you’re about to have an aneurysm any second now.” you raise a brow teasingly. Ah, how gorgeous you were - even when you’re picking him apart. 

“Yeah. Great. Only had this smile plastered on for the last five hours.”

“Aww, but you look so pretty smiling.” you shrug, with the audacity of someone that didn’t just have Choso’s knees dangerously weak. “Anyway- A bunch of us are gonna try to convince ol’ Yaga to let us take photos with his shades, you wanna come?”

“You think m’pretty?” he muses, embarrassingly late.

“Cho.”

“Yaga. Shades. Got it.” Choso mock salutes, drinking in the little laugh it startles out of you, eyes sparkling with mischief and looking right into his soul. Beautiful. You were always beautiful. 

And Choso can’t just stand around and do nothing about it.

“Crybaby, look, I-” Fists clenching, he takes a steadying breath. The heat only rising to his cheeks at your awaiting gaze, “I…”

“HEY, GRANDPA HELPED STEAL YAGA’S SHADES LET’S TAKE A PIC-”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP ITADORI. YOU’RE RUINING A MOMENT, LET THEM HAVE THEIR MOMENT.”

“I don’t know either of you two.”

It would be a miracle for a moment not to be ruined with two overly-energetic first-years (and a very reluctant Fushiguro) pushing their way into your little bubble. Choso bites back a groan as you’re immediately swarmed by a bickering Kugisaki and Yuji, one apologizing for “ruining your k-drama moment” and the other trying to get you to put on some sunglasses. Well, at least he could empathize with the black-haired boy, who gave him an apologetic nod. 

He’s only halfway through waving off the interruption before a voice speaks up from his side. “Why didn’t you say it?”

Whirling around, Choso comes face-to-face with the disappointed look on his grandfather’s face. Already having some idea of what you mean, “Wha-”

“I may be old but m’not deaf, yet, boy. Why didn’t ya tell her?” he sighs, tilting his head to where you were wearing those shades and taking ridiculous pictures with two animated first-years. 

“I don’t know what you-”

“M’not blind, either. Quite frankly I’m insulted.”

And, well, if there’s anyone that he can’t hide from - it would be his grandfather. So he heaves out a defeated sigh, touselling his hair while muttering out a pathetic little, “M’not- Ugh, she’s too fuckin’ perfect and I…I chickened out.”

Choso doesn’t know what he expected in response but it definitely wasn’t for his grandfather to laugh. Full, and raspy - loud enough that even you stop to stare. “Thought so, idiot boy.” he chuckles, drawing indignant protests. “Did she tell you?”

Raising a brow, “What?”

“Did she tell you that you weren’t good ‘nough for her?”

“No, but-” Whatever protest on the tip of Choso’s tongue is cut off by a rough hand smacking his back in what he thinks is reassurance, but felt more like a punishment for being such a pussy around you all these years. 

“Then go. Ya might just be surprised. After all, you’re my grandson, and all the ladies at bingo love me.”

Shaking with both adrenaline and the effort to keep that image out of his mind, he makes his way towards you. Purposeful. Pointedly ignoring the matching smirks flashed his way. 

“You really think they’ll finally get together today?” Fushiguro deadpans from where he’d snuck up beside the old man, in an attempt to escape the public nuisances he calls ‘friends’. 

Choso’s grandfather hums thoughtfully, watching the scene play out before him - Choso flushed such a delicate shade of pink as you playfully put Yaga’s sunglasses on him. Settling on a gruff, “I’ll give it a few months more. He’s my grandson, after all.”

“That’s generous. I’d give it a couple years more.”

“Wanna bet, brat?”

“...”

Safe to say, his second button ended up safely in your hands that day. But Fushiguro would be the one to really win the bet. 

Because it was only 2 years, 4 months and 3 weeks after this little incident that Choso finally had you exactly where he wanted - with no interruptions. All for him. 

Freshly twenty one, splayed out on your apartment bedroom and having a conversation that he never in a million years would’ve even dared to imagine he’d have - with you of all people. All because of that stupid R-rated film you’d put on for movie night. 

“You’ve never what?” you gape, turning down the volume to those painfully fake moans coming from the tv.

Oh, how gorgeous you looked - all shocked and batting your lashes up at him in surprise. Choso almost swoons inwardly (and outwardly) before he realizes that shit you were probably waiting for an answer.

“I mean, yeah?” he sputters out, cheeks heating up as you lean in closer to hear him. Close. “So what if I’ve never…uh-” eyes darting to the erotic scene on-screen. “M’surely not missing out on that much.”

Goddammit, some strange, carnal part of himself twinges dangerously at the little smirk that curls your lips. One that he quickly - and embarrassingly - realizes has the blood rushing straight to his cock. Humming a low, “Maybe. Maybe not.” The mattress dips slightly as you shift closer, lips ghosting his ear. “Want me to help you find out?”

Which is, well, how Choso found himself shoved against the armrest. Blanket thrown on the floor now, swollen cock leaking furiously through his pants as your pretty lil’ cunt hovers above his mouth. So wet that if he stuck his tongue out he could have you dripping all onto him. 

“Y-you sure about this, sweetheart?” he hisses despite his hands looping around your thighs, bringing you closer to him.

You raise a brow, “Are you sure, Cho?”

He should say no. He should laugh this all off as a bad joke. He shouldn’t ruin this friendship - but oh how badly he wants just a taste of your dripping pussy - see if she’s as sweet as the rest of you is. So, throwing caution to the wind, Choso nods slowly. “Yes. Want it s’bad.”

Grinning wickedly, you whisper, “Thought so.” And then he’s pulling you onto his mouth, hot and urgent.

“Oh fuck-” he groans, eyes rolling to the back of his head at the first taste of your sweet sweet juices. “Shit shit shit.” So sloppily licking up your swollen folds - barely moving with any method or patience, just that he’s drunk on your pussy and wants more more more-

“Hngh- f-fuck. You sure this is your hah- first time, Cho?” you gasp breathlessly. And oh your best friend was so fucking beautiful. Dark hair untied and tousled, eyes half-hooded, your slick already smearing across the bottom half of his face and trickling down his jaw because shit he was so messy. So addicted to that desperate expression on your face that he just can’t help but tease you a little bit. 

“Mhm?” he smirks, tongue swirling around your pulsing clit. Purposefully missing right where you wanted him the most because shit he loved those cute lil’ whines spilling out of you. 

You let out a huff, hips trying pathetically to inch him closer - but Choso wasn’t budging. Holding you so firmly by the hips that you’re sure he leaves bruises, licking all over your cunt except for your clit. “Cho.” you warn. Brows furrowing in frustration at the way he bats his long lashes up at you so deceivingly innocently, “What?”

“You know…”

“I don’t.” he titters teasingly into your pussy. 

“Choso.”

Now, Choso’s known and seen everything there is to do with you - but never like this. Spread open shamefully and pouting so adorably on top of him, so needy for him. It made his head spin to think of just how much the dynamics had shifted. 

Shit, he really should’ve watched that godforsaken movie with you sooner. “Tell me what you want, crybaby.”

And oh how his cock twitches at the way you manage to get out an embarrassed little, “Wan’ you to ngh- tonguefuck me properly. Wanna cum on your pretty face, Cho.”

And that’s all that’s said before he’s surging forward, glossy lips wrapping around your pulsing clit to suck harshly. Rolling his soft tongue over and over-

“Wanted this for so long.” Choso mutters, muffled as he buries himself deeper into your pretty pussy. The vibrations sending white-hot pleasure running down your spine. “You have absolutely no idea, pretty.”

And you barely even have the time to register his little confession before Choso’s moving down to bully his tongue past your folds. Nose pressing against your throbbing clit as he dips into your sloppy hole. 

“Oh shit. Jus’ like that.” For a beginner, your best friend really knew what he was doing. Eating you out like his favorite meal, tongue squeezing into your snug pussy to thrust in and out, swipe against your walls, stretching you out right to his will. Over and over-

“Use me.”

Your eyes snap down to meet the pure adoration in his eyes as he makes out filthily with your cunt. Choking out a little, “What?”

“Use me.”

There it was again - that strained little mantra. And as if to prove his point, Choso reaches out to deftly place your hands on his head, bucking into you touch. 

And, well, how could you say no to that?

Because before you know it, you’re bunching Choso’s soft strands in your fists. Angling him just right to ride his pretty face. “C’mon, Cho. Ngh- H-harder, jus’ a bit- Oh!” he just devours the way your mouth drops into an adorable little oh! as his tongue curls deftly against that one spot. Again and again. Letting himself be so used, dragging your dripping cunt harder on his mouth. 

And he likes it. Hell, he loves it even - because you’re so sweet n’ pretty on his mouth. Better than everything he’s ever been dreaming of for the past few years. And always in his dreams, you’d be clenching so deliciously around his tongue when you were close - just like right now. 

So he speeds up his movements, breathing you in maddeningly. A hand snaking down from it’s favorite place on your hips to draw quick, frenzied little circles on your poor, ravaged clit. Jaw almost aching with how filthily he was dripping in and out of your entrance - be he did give a shit. Only wanting to have you breathless and creaming all over his face.

You jerk violently on top of him, “Hah! S’too much, Cho. M’so close- gonna cum- gonna-”

And then you’re cumming. Fast, and hard. 

Plushy walls clamping down on Choso’s tongue, hips stuttering on his face as he laps up all your juices, an arm around your waist helping you ride his face through your high. 

“S’sweet. Could get used to that.” he slurs into your cunt. Tipping his head back as far as it’d go to let the last of your juices slide down his throat. “Better than I imagined.”

The words ring in your ears as you blink back your vision. Deliriously whirling down to look down at Choso - still beneath you and looking more smug and content than you’d ever seen him. “Imagination? S’that why you’re so good.”

“No.”

You’re being flipped before you know it. Manhandled so easily by your best friend as he lays you on your back, sinking into the cushion while he looms above you. “S’jus’ that…” grunting as he flings his shirt off, “Been dreaming of your pretty cunt on m’tongue for years.”

Okay, now his confession hits - more than it did when he was tonguefucking you into insanity, anyway. 

“Years, huh?” you breathe out, eyes roaming all over his sculpted torso. Taking in every dip and curve of Choso’s toned abs - all the way from his broad shoulders to the rock-hard cock straining against his pants. As if in a trance, your hand reaches out to cup his leaking erection, “S’that all you’ve been dreaming of?”

“You little minx.” he lets out a low hiss. 

Before you can even react, Choso’s fumbling with that belt - cursing because shit, he’d have worn sweatpants instead if he knew they’d end up on your floor. 

And you’re not any better, fingers popping open his buttons and tugging impatiently and oh- You always thought that your best friend would have a big dick - but this?  He was so intimidatingly long - and thick enough that you wondered whether you’d hurt yourself. Fat tip flushed such a pretty shade of pink to match his cheeks, leaking down down down, all the way to his heavy balls. 

You’re only jolted out of your little reverie by Choso spitting a steady stream of spit onto your quivering cunt, spreading it lazily across your pussy with his thumb. A ringed fist pumping his cock slowly, as he drags his tip across your folds, pooling your sweet juices. Muttering out a raspy, “I’ll be gentle.”

“You better not be, now jus’ fuck me-”

Well, you didn’t have to ask Choso twice. Because you’ve barely gotten the words out before he’s bullying massive cock into your tight cunt. Pressing in inch by fucking inch as you gasp and buck underneath him. 

“Shhh, s’okay, crybaby. This is what you wanted, right?” he mumbles, with all the audacity of someone that wasn’t fucking into you in rapid, mindless little jabs to fit inside your snug lil’ pussy. Struggling to hold back at this point. “Wanted to be split apart on m’cock?”

You were so full of him. Even more so when he throws your legs over his shoulders, bending all the way down and folding you in half so easily beneath him. 

He drinks in the barely-lucid squeal that leaves your swollen lips. Kissing your forehead gently, whispering against the skin, “Because I’ve wanted this for so fucking long.”

And then it was like something snapped - maybe his sanity, maybe the restraint that Choso’s been holding back for too long. Because immediately he’s plunging his throbbing cock into you - all the way till his balls, all angry and squeezing so painfully, smacks against your ass. 

“Wanted this.” he rasps into your open mouth. His hips were out of control now, thrusting you in shallow, desperate rams. Pounding into you like a man possessed, and running his mouth just as much. He laces his fingers on top of your head, pushing you down even deeper into his relentless cock - as if the bastard wasn’t fucking you dumb already. “Fuckin’ needed this needed this. Shit- so bad.”

“Ch-Choso- fuck hah-” you plead as his mouth clashes with yours. All sloppy with teeth and spit and his profanities - and it felt so damn good. 

“Yeah? Who’s fucking you silly, now?” he’s going harder now, tip hitting your poor cervix over and over. And you’d be sobbing at the burn and the stretch but all you can think of is shit this is Choso - the kid you used to play hide and seek with. And now he seems fully intent on breaking you. “Say m’name.”

A rough thumb starts toying with your clit, in time with the cute lil’ whines of his name that escape your mouth like a prayer. “Shit. Y’look so pretty like this.” he babbles. “Gonna cry, pretty girl?” smirking down at the way you were too cockdrunk to even snap back, only looking up at him with delirious, teary eyes. “Be a crybaby for my cock?”

You’re tugging on his hair, thighs shaky and bucking upwards. “Cho-”

“Mhm?”

“W-wanna cum. Need you to fill m’up till I can’t take it anymore.”

Oh if Choso was any lesser man he’d have cum right then and there. Instead settling for a guttural groan, drunk off the way you were milking his cock so hard as if to prove your point. It almost made him want to stay like this forever. But no - not right now. 

“Oh yeah?” Hips becoming sloppy now, “Need it? Shit- m’so close.” Each word slurred, punctuated by a harsh thrust, strokes long and frenzied. Using your heavenly pussy like his personal fucktoy. So hard that he’s sure you’d have embarrassing matching bruises tomorrow - his balls on your ass, your nails raking down his shoulders.

“Me too- fuck fuck fuck-” you mewl into his neck, as Choso buried his face into yours. 

“Cum f’me, my girl.”

My girl. 

And then you are - and he is. And you don’t know who cums first, just that you’re seeing stars behind your eyes and Choso’s teeth digging into your neck as he thrusts once. Twice. Before cumming and cumming so hard he might as well have seen the pearly gates of heaven. And you were an angel.

Thick, hot ropes of cum that paint your walls white, so much that it gushes out of your poor overfilled pussy. Dripping down your legs and pooling into a sinful, creamy ring at his base. 

“Mm- shit. Choso.” you moan, barely audible over the lewd squelches from below. 

“M’here, my girl.” he grits out, voice shot. And it seems that that was his new favorite nickname, because Choso keeps murmuring it over and over as he keeps fucking his seed into you. Not even thinking about it at this point - just mindless, shallow grinds of his hips. 

In the haze of your orgasm, you think you hear his quiet voice, strained with exhaustion and something that you weren’t in the right state of mind to decipher right now. 

“Shhh, m’here. “Can’t believe I waited so fuckin’ long.” Whispering against your lips, “Love this. Love this pretty cunt.” Kissing softly, “Love the way y’take me. Fuckin’ made f’me.” And maybe even a soft little, “Love you.”

And maybe - just maybe, you whisper the same into his. Kissing him softly, exactly the way you’d wanted to all these years. 

Neither of you speak after that. Not when Choso’s hips stall, body sticky and collapsing onto yours. Nor do you speak when he pulls away with a playful nip to your lower lip - a promise. Searching through your clothes for a washcloth he can wipe yourselves clean with. 

It’s only when he settles back under the covers beside you, looking at you with such dark, hazy eyes - whirling with too many emotions to name - that the silence is broken. 

“Crybaby.”

“Cho.”

“Corny.”

“You started it.”

Chuckling, Choso pulls your body close to his. Not even a hair’s breadth between you two because shit now that he’s got you, he doesn’t think he ever wants to let you go. 

“Y’know…” he starts, “I think we should- I mean- if you want…” nervous now more than he was even after all that just transpired. Cheeks flaring as he meets your amused gaze, just daring him to go on - because you saw through him. You always did. “I lov-”

“Am I late for the mov- WHAT THE FUCK I ALWAYS KNEW BRATS WEREN’T JUST FRIENDS-”

---

Itadori Family Groupchat + Two More

Dad: Hey, all. I can’t seem to get a hold of Choso to confirm tomorrow’s dinner plans. Can anyone else let me know if he’s ok? XX

-Jin.

Yuji <3: He’s probs at rhat “best friend movie night” still 

Dad: Hello, Yuji. What is a “probs”? XX

-Jin.

Kugisaki: He’s suspiciously quiet, though… Y’all think that “best friend movie night” is codeword for something else? 

Yuji <3: Better not be cuz Sukuna stole my sparw key sayin something ab crashing it idk

Kugisaki: *spare

And you just LET him?

Yuji <3: HE THREATENED TO BURN MY MEGAN THEE STALLION POSTER 

…

AND DID IT ANYWAY

Kugisaki: L

Fushiguro: L

Gramps: L

Sukuna (do not answer): DID Y’ALL KNOW THOSE TWO WERE FUCKIN????

*Fushiguro has left the chat*

Dad: :0

-Jin.

A/N. Spiritually, this is a crackfic idk.

[hanniebaeee]

Call It What You Want

Hyunjin x fem!reader

Warnings: SMUT 18+ MDNI

Genre: friends with benefits to lovers, smut, fluff

Summary: You and Hyunjin have been doing this 'friends with benefits' thing for a while now. But let's be real. You love him. And when he starts showing similar feelings, you're terrified. And it leads to a whole lot of Hyunjin-style drama.

Call Me Yours

“Fuck, princess,” Hyunjin groaned, voice wrecked, “you’re so tight.”

He had you pinned to the bed, as he fucked you like the world’s about to end. His hips snapped against yours, each thrust hitting so deep you’re seeing stars. Galaxies even. His lips were on your neck, sucking bruises - which would have your art class whispering for weeks.

You pressed your eyes shut, losing yourself in him completely. The way he moved in and out of you. The soft wet sounds that filled the room. And him whispering the filthiest things in your ear.

You were barely coherent, nails digging into his back, pulling him closer. Hyunjin had this glint in his eye, as he shifted slightly, hitting that spot, and you choked out a moan, tugging at his short dark strands.

His hand slipped between your bodies, fingers circling your clit, and your orgasm hit you so hard, and you whimpered his name, clenching around him so tight, making him curse.

His thrusts turned sloppy as he whispered, “Fuck, that’s it,”

He came just as hard, burying himself deep inside you, and you were both panting, sweaty messes when he finally collapsed beside you. Pulling you close, he kissing your temple, and you let yourself enjoy it, just for a second.

It started about an year ago at a frat party you were dragged to by your friend, Jennie. You’d been sulking in a corner, nursing a warm beer, when Hyunjin, already tipsy, waltzed over, and declared you “the hottest grump he’d ever seen.” You’d scoffed at him, but in less than ten minutes, you had somehow ended up making out in his room upstairs.

One thing led to another, and now you were in this absurd, hilarious mess called, friends with benefits.

---

Hyunjin: You left your glasses on my nightstand. I can bring it over

You: Bring it to class tomorrow

Hyunjin: I’m keeping them hostage. 

You: Hyunjin 🙄

Hyunjin: Sleepover tomorrow? I’ll make pancakes.  

You: Maybe. But only for the pancakes.  

Hyunjin: Liar. You want my pancakes and you know what.

Hyunjin: Night, Nerd Queen 😘

You: Night, Hwang.  

---

You smiled at your phone, heart doing that stupid flip again. You knew you shouldn't be feeling like this. You two were friends with benefits. Fuck buddies. But every time you were with him, you fell for his stupid smile and his childish self way harder than you liked to admit. 

It was a Friday night, and you were curled up in your dorm, binge-watching a new series, when your phone started buzzing.

Hyunjin's frat was organizing a party, and he was probably charming the socks off everyone with his stupidly perfect face. You were trying to stay strong - no running to him tonight - because if you kept giving in to his every whim, he would surely figure out that you were completely, pathetically in love with his dramatic ass. 

And that was a secret you kept locked in a vault.

But Hyunjin? He wasn't making it easy. Your phone lit up again, and you caved, glancing at the screen.

---

Hyunjin: Babbyyyyyy where are you 😭 This party sucks without you! 

Hyunjin: Seriously, come over. I miss your face.  

You: You’re drunk, aren’t you? I’m staying in. Go flirt with your bros. 

Hyunjin: Drunk? Me? Pshh. Ok maybe a lil. But I only wanna flirt with youuuu.

Hyunjin: Come over, I’m lonely.

You: Lonely? Go cuddle Felix.

Hyunjin: Felix doesn’t moan like u do. 

You: Nope. I’m in my PJs, and I'm comfy. You’re on your own tonight.  

Hyunjin: I'm coming to you then. Can't escape me.  

You: Hyunjin, no. Stay at your party. You’re too drunk to walk across campus.  

Hyunjin: Too late. I'm on my way. Gonna cuddle you so hard you forget ur own name. 😤  

You: Oh my god. 

Hyunjin: I'm gonna climb into your bed and never leave. 

You: I’m locking my door.  

Hyunjin: You won't. You love me too much. 😘 Be there in 10. Wear that sweater I like.

---

You groaned, tossing your phone onto your bed. You should lock your door, but you don’t. Instead, you fix your hair, pull on that oversized sweater (the one he liked, because apparently you’re weak). Your heart did that stupid fluttery thing again, and you hated it. You were supposed to be the cool, studious introvert. But here you were. 

Fifteen minutes later, there was a knock on your door. You opened it, and there he was, looking like a dishevelled Greek god. His short hair and forehead glistening with sweat, his cheeks flushed, and his leather jacket slipping off one shoulder.

He gave you a sunny smile, his eyes lighting up when he saw you.

“My girl!” he slurred, stumbling forward and wrapping you in a sloppy hug. He smelled like beer and his cologne, and it was so unfairly intoxicating. “Told ya I’d come. Missed you so much.”

“You’re so drunk, Jinnie,” you said, but you were smiling as you guided him inside, shutting the door. “How did you even make it across campus without falling into a bush?”

“Love,” he declared dramatically, flopping onto your bed. “Love gave me wings.”

He patted the bed, saying “C’mere, nerd. I need cuddles.”

Then he decided that he couldn't wait, and grabbed your wrist, tugging you down next to him. You landed with a squeak, and he immediately buried his face in your neck, nuzzling like a needy puppy.

“Fuck, you smell so good. Like… home and sexy books.”

“Sexy books?” You laughed, pushing at his chest, but he’s clinging to you like a koala. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Maybe,” he mumbled. “God, I love you.”

He's drunk, you remind yourself. He doesn’t mean it. But your poor heart wished that he did. Meanwhile, his hands slid under your sweater, and you yelped as his cold fingers grazed you stomach to move up and cup your breasts.

“Hyunjin! Your hands are freezing!”

“Then warm me up,” he whined, and before you could stop him, he was crawling under your sweater, tugging it up and burrowing into it. “Lemme in, it’s cozy in there.”

“Oh my god, you won't fit under my sweater!” you laughed.

He was wiggling, his head and shoulders all the way under the fabric.

“You’re gonna rip it!” you squealed, but he just hummed, pressing his face into the space between your breasts. 

“Worth it,” he mumbled, voice muffled. “Wanna live here forever. You’re so soft. And warm.”

You were dying, torn between shoving him off and melting at how stupidly cute he was. He was still trying to fit into your sweater, but finally gave up with a huff and whine and said, “Fine.”

And then settled for wrapping his entire body around you instead. He threw a leg over yours, arms squeezing you tight, face buried in your chest (half submerged in your sweater).

“This’ll do. For now.” he said, and you hummed, stroking his back. 

“You’re such a baby,” you said, and you both remained silent as his breathing slowed and you thought he was falling asleep. But then he murmured, “Love you…so fucking much. You’re my everything.”

Your heart stopped. You froze, hand still on his back, waiting for him to laugh it off or say something dumb. But he just snuggled closer, sighing like he was finally at peace. You swallowed hard, emotions bubbling up.

You loved him too. His childish giggles, his unhinged texts - but saying it felt too big, too scary. So you just hold him, letting the moment linger.

“Sleep, you idiot,” you whispered, kissing the top of his head (poking out through the neckline of your sweater). He hummed, already half-gone, and soon he was snoring softly, clinging to you like you’re his lifeline.

---

Hubby: Morning, wifey 😘 You're so cute when you sleep. Didn't wanna wanna wake you up. Let's go get some breakfast?

You: WIFEY? You changed your contact name to HUBBY? Hyunjin, I’m going to murder you.  

Hubby: Murder your husband? Harsh, babe.

You: You’re not my husband. You’re a silly boy who needs to stop stealing my phone.  

Hubby: I don’t have to steal anything. You're mine. Your phone’s mine. Deal with it, nerd.

You: You're delusional.

Hubby: Call it what you want

Hubby: Now come gimme a kiss, I’m dying😩  

---

You rolled your eyes, yet you were grinning like an idiot before kicking your feet and squealing into your pillow.

---

Later that day, you were in the library, trying to study, but Hyunjin had other plans. 

---

Hubby: Wifey, I’m lonely 😢 Lets study together. 

You: Stop calling me that. And I’m not falling for your tricks. I’m studying.  

Hubby: Tricks? Don't be so mean my love

You: I’m muting you.  

Hubby: You can’t mute your soulmate. Be real fir once, you can't resist me. 

You:  You're so full of yourself.

Hubby: Come over and you'll be full of me too 😉

You: Omg HYUNJIN. 

Hubby: Lmao you're so easy to rile up. Ok, I’ll be good. Love u, wifey. 

---

You bit your lip, trying not to smile. He was so stupidly endearing, and you hated how much you loved it. You were about to reply when a shadow fell over your table. You looked up, and there stood Hyunjin, holding a coffee and grinning. 

“Surprise, wifey!” he said, loud enough for it to echo through the library. He slid into the seat across from you, completely ignoring everyone’s glares. “Coffee for my love.”

“You’re not my husband,” you hissed, but you took the coffee. “And how are you even here? Don’t you have class?”

“Nope,” he said, leaning forward, chin in his hands. “Had to see you. I knew you'd be wearing those glasses and looking so cute…makes me wanna bend you over this table.”

Your jaw dropped, and you kicked him under the table. “Hyunjin! We’re in a library!”

He laughed, unbothered, and grabbed your hand, kissing your knuckles.

“Can’t help it.” 

You snatched your hand back, face burning.

“You’re insane. Go away before I get kicked out.”

“Nope,” he said again, scooting closer until his knee brushed yours. “I’m staying. Gotta protect my wife from nerdy predators.”

He winked, and you were so torn, because you wanted to believe him. You wanted to believe this was real. But this whole thing started off on sex. And you were worried that he'd get bored and he'd get over you. 

You tried to focus on your notes, but Hyunjin was making it absolutely impossible - humming softly, doodling “Mr. & Mrs. Hwang” in your notebook. You give him a glare and yanked your book away, ruining the cute doodle he was working on. 

He gave you a pouty look, and you narrowed your eyes at him. The usual Hyunjin would whine or tackle you into a hug. But he did none of that. Instead he stood up, putting your pen down as he held your gaze, and then just walked away. 

You watched him disappear, and for the first time ever, you were terrified. 

It has been three days since the library incident, and you’re losing your mind. No “wifey,” no texts about bending you over a library table. 

Nothing. Just… silence. The worst part? You missed it. You missed his childish whining, his needy cuddles, his sweet face. You tried to play it cool, but by day four, you were a mess.

You had just finished class and were walking towards the campus cafe, when you spotted him. Hyunjin. Reading. You did a double take, nearly spilling your drink. Since when did Hwang Hyunjin, read a book that thick? He was sitting under a tree, leaning against the trunk, looking so soft in his hoodie and glasses (glasses?!). Your heart squeezed, but you were also annoyed.

You marched over, plopping down next to him. He glanced up, one eyebrow raised, and went back to his book. No grin, no nothing. Just a cool, “Hey.”

“Hey?” you repeated, incredulous. “That’s it? Why are you ignoring me?”

He closed his book, looking at you with a neutral expression that was so unlike him it was creepy.

“I’m not ignoring you. I’m just… reading.”

“Reading?” You narrowed your eyes. “You haven’t spoken to me in days. What’s your deal?”

He shrugged, and said, “Figured you were sick of my ‘needy bullshit.’ You kept telling me to stop, so I stopped.”

You blinked, caught completely off guard. He was being… serious?

“I didn’t mean stop everything. You’re acting like we’re strangers.” you snapped.

“I’m giving you space,” he said, his voice is tight. “You said I was too much. So, here’s not-too-much Hyunjin. Happy?”

Happy? You were miserable. But he was staring at you, all sulky and gorgeous, and you realized that he was on strike. No kisses, no touching, no sex. He was punishing you for resisting, and oh, it was working.

“You’re pouting,” you said, poking his cheek.

He swatted your hand away, but there was a flicker of his usual playfulness.

“Am not,” he muttered, turning back to his book. “Go study or whatever. I’m fine.”

You stared, heart twisting. He was hurt, and you did this. You pushed him away, and now he has dialled it back to zero. But you weren't letting him win this. You needed your Hyunjin back, drama and all.

You couldn't take another day of this cold-shoulder nonsense. You mustered the courage for what you were about to do, and walked to the frat house. Ignoring the party raging downstairs, you headed straight for Hyunjin’s room. You didn't knock - you just barged in, and there he was, at his desk, sketching. He was in a loose tank top, hair messy, pencil moving with that focused intensity that made him look so unfairly hot. He glanced up, startled, then leaned back, crossing his arms.

“Ever heard of knocking?” he asked, but there was a spark in his eyes, like he'd been waiting for you.

“Nope,” you said, shutting the door. “We need to talk.”

He raised an eyebrow, playing it cool, but that pout’s still there, lingering. “Talk then. I’m listening.”

You took a deep breath, heart pounding. You’ve been resisting him for months, pretending you were not in love with him. But you were done fighting. You reached into your pocket and pull out the ring pop you had bought on a whim at the campus store - a cheap plastic band with a strawberry-flavored candy “diamond.” It was ridiculous, but you were desperate.

“Hyunjin,” you said, stepping closer. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to push you away. I was scared. Because I have wanted more for a while now. I don't want to be someone you sleep with. I wanna be more. I miss you. I miss being your wifey. I miss you so damn much.”

His eyes widened, but he didn’t say anything, so you kept going, holding up the candy ring.

“You wanna be my husband? Fine. Here’s your ring. Marry me, you idiot.”

For a second, he just stared, and you felt like you'd broken him. Then his face blooms - eyes sparkling, cheeks flushing, grin so wide it could overshadow the sun. He looked so happy, so Hyunjin, it was like the room got brighter.

“Wifey,” he breathed, voice shaking. “You’re proposing? With a candy ring? Fuck, that’s so cute. I think I'm gonna cry.”

“Please don’t cry,” you said, but you’re grinning too, heart racing. “Just say yes so I can stop feeling like an idiot.”

“Yes yes yes,” he said, jumping up and grabbing your face, kissing you so hard you stumbled back. His lips were soft and desperate, and you kissed him back, hands tangling in his hair, and it was like the world snapped back into place. He was yours, drama and all, and you were his.

The kiss deepened, all tongue and heat, and you were both gasping, pulling at each other like you’ve been starved. He lifted you onto his desk, knocking over his pencils and sketchbooks, and you laughed against his mouth.

“Careful, Hubby,” you teased, and he groaned, kissing you harder.

“Say it again,” he murmured, hands sliding under your shirt, warm and needy. “Please.”

“Hubby,” you whispered and he practically whimpered, pressing himself closer, lips trailing down your neck. You made out for what felt like hours, all sloppy kisses and wandering hands, until your lips were swollen and your hearts pounding.

Finally, you pulled back, both of you panting. He had the candy ring on his finger, and he looked so genuinely happy and excited.

“I love you so much,” he said, holding up his hand to admire the ring. “Strawberry’s my favorite.”

“You’re such a dork,” you mumbled, but you were beaming, because he’s your dork. “I love you, Jinnie.”

---

Hubby: My heart’s gonna explode.  

You: You survived the strike, you’ll live.

Hubby: Never. You looked so hot with that ring, though. Oh fuck, I'm hard again. 

You: HYUNJIN. Behave for five seconds.  

Hubby: Can’t. I’m married to the hottest nerd ever. I’m gonna kiss you forever.

You: I love you baby

Hubby: Fuck, I love you. My wifey. My nerdy goddess. I’m never shutting up again, you know that, right?  

You: Good. I missed your dramatic ass. 

Divider: @saradika-graphics

Tags: @moonchild9350 @velvetmoonlght @hwangjoanna @pixie-felix @sailor--sun @chancloud8 @captainchrisstan @hansmic @emilyywhyy @inlovewithstraykids @my-neurodivergent-world @nightmarenyxx @channie4lifeee143127 @lezleeferguson-120 @silly250 @pansexual-and-eating-pancakes

[eclips-moon]

The Batboys being clingy headcanon:

Including Duke and Bruce <3

Hope you guys like it!

Tim Drake Tim’s clinginess is low-key, but it’s also constant. He’s the type to text you “What’s up? I miss you <3” while you’re just sitting 5 feet away from him. If you so much as stand up to go get a snack, he’s immediately there, like, “Where are you going? Don’t leave me.” He’ll lean against you, his hand finding yours without him even realizing it. When you're watching TV or reading, he’s definitely leaning into your side, trying to get as close as possible without being too obvious. But if you move to shift positions? Nope, he’s following you. He’ll slip his arm around your waist, all like, “Don’t think I didn’t notice that.” He’s not a big PDA guy, but when it’s just the two of you? Prepare for cuddles, hand-holding, and small, random kisses. He’s gotta be touching you constantly.

Jason Todd Jason is obsessive, no doubt. He’s that partner who’ll try to act like he’s tough and independent, but the moment you show him any kind of affection, he’s all over you. Like, you can’t just hug him. No. He’ll climb into your lap and basically trap you there, rubbing his face into your neck like a cat. He’s gonna constantly ask for kisses, too, but not just little pecks—he wants full-on, deep kisses where he can pull you close and remind you that you’re his. If you’re doing something, like, working or even hanging out with friends, he’ll try to drag you away, be like, “Hey, come hang out with me, stop ignoring me for two seconds.” He’s possessive, but in the cutest way, constantly needing your attention. If you even talk to another person for too long, he’ll give them side-eye and pull you back to him like, “You good? You’re not gonna leave me for some random guy, are you?” He’s also the type to cling to you in bed, hogging the covers and curling up like a human koala.

Dick Grayson Dick’s clingy energy is pure gold. He’s the most affectionate of the bunch and doesn’t shy away from public displays of love. He loves hugging you from behind, nuzzling into your neck, and just randomly planting kisses all over your face. He’ll text you “miss you <3” every few hours when you’re apart, and when you’re together? It’s all about touch. He’s sitting on your lap, or leaning on your shoulder, or pulling you into his chest just because he needs to be close to you. If you’re watching a movie, he’s definitely going to have his head in your lap, just to be as close to you as humanly possible. He gets giddy when he gets attention from you, too. You could be playing with his hair, and he’ll melt. He’ll whine like, “I’m not clingy, you’re clingy. But also, I love it. So don’t stop.” Honestly, Dick doesn’t care if he’s acting like a bit of a puppy—he’s obsessed with you, and he makes sure you know it.

Damian Wayne Damian’s clingy moments are hilariously dramatic. He might start out cold, acting like he doesn’t need anyone, but as soon as you show him any affection? He’s all in. He’ll randomly grab your hand and hold it like it’s the most important thing in the world. If you try to walk away from him for whatever reason, he’ll growl and pull you back in, like, “Where are you going? You’re staying right here.” He has this whole vibe of “I don’t need anyone else, just you”, so if you’re talking to someone else or looking away from him for too long, he’ll wrap his arm around your waist and be like, “I don’t think you should be talking to them. They might steal you away from me.” In bed? He’s a hug monster, wrapping his arms around you like he’s never letting you go. He’s all about the intimacy, though—when it’s just the two of you, he’ll be soft and surprisingly vulnerable, making sure you know that he needs you more than he lets on.

Duke Thomas Duke is lowkey super clingy, but in the way that’s goofy and endearing. He loves to follow you around, like, just wherever you go, he’s tagging along. You’re going to the kitchen? He’s there. To grab something from the laundry room? He’s there. If you sit down, he’s sitting on the floor next to you, asking if you want to “cuddle and watch dumb shows together.” He’s always finding excuses to touch you—like, his hand will just casually rest on your knee or he’ll come up behind you and play with your hair. And if you don’t give him attention? He’ll pout, even if he’s trying to play it off, like, “Aren’t you gonna give me a kiss? C’mon, don’t leave me hanging.” He’s the type who’ll give you a silly smile, lean in for a kiss, and then pull you into a full-on hug like, “Don’t go. I’m not done with you yet.” He’s all about the hugs, especially after a long day. You’ll be just chilling, and suddenly he’s like, “Hug time, right? Let me get one.”

Bruce Wayne Now, Bruce is not the type to openly admit he’s clingy. He’s still the stoic, brooding billionaire who’s been through a lot, but when it’s just the two of you? He’s softer than anyone expects. He’ll always make sure you’re physically close—his hand on your lower back, your legs touching when you sit next to him, and if he’s standing near you, his hand will casually rest on your arm. When you’re working late or doing something serious, Bruce will occasionally pull you away for a few minutes just to kiss you or hold you close. He’s not great at asking for attention, but when he’s feeling clingy, he’ll show you through little gestures. You’ll find him just sitting beside you in silence, just content to be in your presence. He’s a man of few words, but when he’s clingy, it’s all about the touch—the way he holds your hand, how he presses his shoulder to yours, and how he’ll insist on driving you home or waiting up for you, just to make sure you’re safe.

[plethorawrites]

(A/N, I know this is absolutely stretching it, but a lot of you like the secret relationship trope as much as me and I can't get this idea out of my head so...)

---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---_

Jason Todd who, despite fixing his relationship with his family to an extent, still maintains distance from them. He remains amicable, showing up when asked, never straying terribly far and always still including himself whenever someone mentions the 'family'.

But...he's still a bit of a loner around them, not always entirely honest all the time. He doesn't stick around very long unless asked and will make up obvious lies to get out of things he doesn't want to do. One of the ways he does this, is by claiming to have a date.

Yes, it was ridiculous to them. If he really wanted to get away from them, he could just say that. But hey, it was his life. And it was hilarious to see the lengths he would go to.

Unbeknownst to him, you were entirely real.

At first Jason worried that they would pry for more information, maybe insist on meeting you or try to run a background check. Bruce had done that on multiple girls Dick went out with and even made a file on Bernard when Tim got involved with him. He never mentioned your last name, usually calling you his girlfriend, or some nickname his had for you, in hopes of them keeping their distance. And they did.

He didn't realize it was because they didn't actually believe him when he said he was in a relationship. He never really gloated about it much, but he never hid it, either. He'd mention you moving in, mention you were working late so he could stay for dinner, or say you were sick so he had to leave early.

To them, it was all one elaborate lie that kept him away from the family.

Even when he introduced Alfred to you, legitimizing you in the butlers eyes, everyone just groaned, telling the man not to encourage Jason's charade.

When Jason said he had to leave patrol early because he planned to propose to you, they found it even funnier, honestly. He was really keeping up with this lie. It had lasted years. Sometimes, for months he didn't mention you, but then he'd casually say he got married to really cement that he was still putting up that wall between him and the family.

He even had very convenient reasons for all the things that didn't add up, like why he never wore a wedding ring (Which he would surely have if he had actually gotten married) or why he never went on a honeymoon (Which no one could live without, right?)

Truthfully, you didn't care about that, as long as he kept coming home in one piece with minimal bleeding. As for the ring? Well, he only wore it at home, otherwise he kept it on a chain under his suit.

At one point, he even claimed you were pregnant.

That one? That was a lie filled with meat to rip off the bone. Doctor appointments and sudden emergencies let him excuse himself from any meeting he didn't want to attend or leave early and come late for practically anything.

He would even purposely read baby books or pretend to be on the phone with you when he didn't want to talk to them or engage in conversation at hand/pay attention to a briefing.

In the middle of patrol he had disappeared, claiming you were in labor, when really, they just thought he wanted to go home and sleep. He had been acting awfully exhausted lately. He claimed it was from taking care of you.

Then, after that night, he oddly enough dropped all contact for a while. A long while, actually. No red hood activity, no returning phone calls, no one had heard from him. Except for Alfred who came over to bring you a care package and Roy who was there to see his goddaughter the second she came home from the hospital.

It was nearly two months later that they finally heard from him, after starting to truly worry. He had dropped off the map before when he got the urge to be alone, but never for this long. Now suddenly he was inviting the entire family over for dinner at his apartment?

He had NEVER in his life done that. Hell, they didn't even know where he lived. Probably because they would show up unannounced and he didn't want to deal with them sleeping on his couch.

Still, regardless of their hesitation they showed up.

Imagine their surprise when he opened the door and just past his shoulder they could see you, sitting on the floor, having tummy time with newborn baby girl who couldn't stop laughing.

Their eyes were wide, they couldn't stop staring, barely even moving.

Bruce probably seemed the most shocked. He was a grandfather after all and had not only missed his granddaughter's birth, but didn't even know he had a daughter-in-law.

The ring on Jason's finger was suddenly quite prominent, as was the matching one on your hand as you picked up the baby and carried her over to them, introducing yourself.

You had apparently heard a lot about them.

They had heard...well, enough about you that they shouldn't be surprised when you fit the exact description of who they thought had been Jason's imaginary escape wife for over two years.

It all came out in that moment and both Jason and your eyes were reflecting the same confusion and disbelief as they confessed to not believing you or the baby existed.

"You...thought I made up having a wife?" he repeated slowly, frowning as his arm wrapped around your waist. "AND I lied about her having a baby?"

He had always wondered why none of them seemed to really even care about the fact that they were going to be aunts and uncles. Bruce had barely even congratulated him at all, which stung a bit, but he brushed it off.

"Well...yeah?" Tim confessed, motioning to him. "It's you! You don't even like people."

Who would ever associate Jason Todd with domestic life? No one.

He shook his head in utter disbelief. "Unbelievable," he muttered, turning to you as you started to laugh uncontrollably. "What? You find that funny?"

You nodded, trying to stop chuckling. "It's so absurd," you chortled, your laugh making the baby coo in your arms. "And I get it, I do," you admitted. "You're all tough and brooding. Not exactly father material."

He frowned further. He liked to think he had been doing a pretty good job. Maybe not perfect, but he was trying his best for both of you.

"Hey!" he exclaimed, offended, taking the baby from you. "I know I'm not a professional or anything, I haven't dropped her yet."

Emphasis on the yet.

"Of course not," you agreed, kissing the baby's head and then his cheek. "You're a very father. Even if the baby isn't real," you added with another huff of amusement, running your hands through his hair as you walked past him into the kitchen. "Put her down for her nap, would you? I want to check on dinner."

He gave another confused, inquisitive glare to his family, especially his father before nodding. "Make yourselves at home," he muttered, still confused. "I'm going to put my fake daughter down in her fake nursery," he told them before walking off.

[matchingbatbites]

Robin's mom has a pet budgie that is Obsessed with Steve. Any time he comes over the bird is on his shoulder, making kissy noises at him, just constantly around him. It pitches a fit if anyone tries to get it away from Steve, and even starts asking for Steve if he hasn't come by in a day or two.

The bird also hates Eddie, and nothing Eddie does seems to change its mind. Not offering food or new toys, nothing works. It's even worse whenever Steve is around, because the budgie will snap at Eddie if he gets too close to Steve.

Steve thinks it's cute, Robin says it's hilarious that the bird sees Eddie as competition or something, but Eddie just wants to be around his boyfriend without the flying menace trying to smack him in the face with a wing.

[noredemptionhere]

𝙷𝙴𝙰𝙳𝙲𝙰𝙽𝙾𝙽𝚂 ✶⋆.˚ 𝚆𝙸𝙵𝙴!𝚂𝙴𝚅𝙸𝙺𝙰 𝚇 𝙵𝙴𝙼!𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙳𝙴𝚁

no warnings—just fluff.

𑄝⌇sevika is surprisingly sweet with kids.. calmer, softer, careful. but for some reason, kids never like her. they avoid to be in the same place as her and shrink away the moment she steps near. it makes your piss boil. one time, a particular four-year-old piece of shit had the audacity to burst into tears just because sevika glanced in his direction. without hesitation, you ‘accidentally’ nudged your foot forward, just enough to make him trip over. sevika nearly choked on her own spit trying to hold in her laugh as she watched your proud little smug smile.

𑄝⌇whenever you and sevika go out for dinner or a little get together, you always end up playing a game—cards, never have i ever, uno.. any silly game you two can think of. for some reason, every single time, you two end up getting so excited about it that you attract glances from everyone around. “draw four, pretty girl.” she smirks. “girl—fuck you.”

𑄝⌇sevika has an insane amount of pain tolerance—but she will always have the biggest fear of colds, fevers, or anything that causes headaches in general. you always stay by her side and make her a hot drink. she’s always wrapped in a blanket like a little worm as she watches you make her flavored tea, too.

𑄝⌇sevika loves nose kisses—loves giving them as well as receiving them.

𑄝⌇sevika never feels the need to brag about you in public. she doesn’t need to tell people how perfect, cute, or adorable you are—she already knows. to her, that’s something personal, something just for the two of you.

𑄝⌇sevika has an impeccable sense of fashion, and because of that, you’re always up her ass, whining for her to pick out your outfit from head to toe. “those jeans are ass,” she scrunches her nose in mild disgust. “you’re only saying that because i bought them without asking for your opinion,” you retort, but she glares back at you like you just murdered her parents.

𑄝⌇sevika’s taste in music is insane—she knows all the right tracks, from old-school rock to the newest underground hits. but one day, you played one of your ridiculously loud country songs, and somehow, it got stuck in her head. days later, you caught her humming the tune under her breath as she worked. she froze halfway through, eyes tightening, and muttered bitterly, “i’m so disappointed in myself.”

𑄝⌇sevika genuinely believes she’s terrible at comforting people—always unsure of what to say, what to do. but every time you’re in her arms, soft and trembling with tears, she can’t help but notice how easily you melt into her. the way you relax, your breaths slowing as you burrow closer… it doesn’t exactly convince either of you that she’s bad at it. “breathe for me, sugar. i’ve got you..”

𑄝⌇when she’s bored, sevika will bother you in the most subtle ways—like moving your stuff just slightly to the left so you’ll notice but not enough to be sure if it’s her. she thinks it’s hilarious, and you’re just left wondering if you’ve lost your mind.

𑄝⌇sevika always sleeps on top of you. she’s like a heavy, warm blanket that refuses to be moved. no matter how much space the bed has, she insists on curling up right on top of you, effectively trapping you in a cozy but slightly suffocating cuddle. she’ll nuzzle into your neck, mumble something about needing “closeness,” and fall asleep faster than you can protest. you’ve learned to embrace it, though, because there’s something oddly comforting about having her weight on top of you. the real challenge will always be trying to get up without waking her, because if you try, she’ll groggily mumble “stay,” and drag you right back to bed.

𑄝⌇sevika loves gossiping—will never admit it though.

𑄝⌇she always remembers how you take your tea. even when you change it up, even when you forget yourself—she doesn’t. she hands you a cup before you even ask, grinning when you blink at her like she just read your mind.

𑄝⌇she never sleeps facing the door. she sleeps facing you. always.

𑄝⌇sevika and you share food like it’s a sacred ritual. you both order different dishes, but somehow, every meal ends with your plates being mixed together.. whether you like it or not. she’ll stare at your food like it’s the last meal on earth and then slide a forkful onto her plate without asking. you’ll give her a side eye, but she just shrugs and says, “you never finish it anyway.” It’s become a game, where you try to sneak a bite from her dish, and she’ll respond by swiping something off your plate in return. it’s a silent, competitive love language that only the two of you understand.

[luna-azzurra]

How to Write a Sick Character

╰ First of all — being sick is boring as hell

Nobody tells you that. You think it’s gonna be poetic and tragic and emotionally moving, maybe a few tears on the windowpane and a soft piano soundtrack? Wrong. It’s pacing in a waiting room for two hours to be told to come back next week. It’s reruns of trash TV because your brain fog is so bad you can't even process a podcast. It's Googling "why do my bones hate me" at 3 a.m. and finding nothing helpful, only vibes. So if you're writing a sick character and every scene is Deep and Heavy and Symbolic, I love you but no. Let them be bored. Let them be over it. Let them fall asleep halfway through someone’s big speech.

╰ Second — sickness is basically a toxic relationship with your own body

And wow, the drama is unmatched. One day your character wakes up and thinks, “Maybe today will be normal.” Their body: “Plot twist, bitch.” Now they’re sweating through a hoodie, canceling plans, and pretending they're “just tired” because explaining the truth is somehow more exhausting than the illness itself. Let your character hate their body sometimes. Let them feel betrayed by it. Let them mourn the version of themselves that used to just do things without needing a three-day nap after. But also—let them fight for their body, too. Advocate. Adapt. Try again. Because it’s not all despair. Sometimes it’s really freaking brave just to get out of bed and put on pants.

╰ Third — it’s not cute

Hollywood loves to write illness like it’s an aesthetic. Clean blankets, sad smiles, a gentle cough. Yeah… no. Sometimes it’s vomit in your hair. It’s medical tape pulling off skin. It’s being too tired to shower but still scrolling through memes like your life depends on it. Give us the gross stuff. The embarrassing stuff. The human stuff.

╰ Fourth — let them be funny

Sick people are hilarious. Mostly because we have to be. You’ve got two choices when your body is a disaster zone: laugh, or fully unravel. So we joke about our failing organs. We flirt with the nurse while on IV fluids. We name our medical devices. We send memes from the ER. Let your character joke. Let them be sharp, sarcastic, absurd. Not because they're “taking it well,” but because that’s their armor. Humor is one of the most honest forms of pain. Use it.

╰ Fifth — sick ≠ broken

Please hear this: your character is not less than. They are not just here to suffer and die and inspire others with their angelic perseverance. They’re a person. Maybe a chaos goblin. Maybe a genius. Maybe a mess. Maybe a lover, a fighter, a giant emotional raccoon with a heating pad. Let them live and have goals. Let them chase things. Let them screw up. Let them be loved and desired and complicated. Their illness is part of them, not all of them.

╰ Lastly — don’t wrap it up too clean

Recovery isn’t linear. Some illnesses don’t “end.” And that’s okay. You don’t need a miracle cure in the third act. Sometimes strength is just learning to exist in a different way. Sometimes it’s re-learning how to hope. Sometimes it’s finding a new rhythm instead of forcing the old one to work. Let your character find peace, not perfection. So yeah—if you’re writing a sick character, you’re doing something important. You’re making space for people whose stories rarely get told with truth and teeth and tenderness. Just promise me you won’t turn them into a symbol. Let them be a person. A funny, scared, strong, exhausted, hopeful person. Like the rest of us.

@katrein05 I Hope This Helps a little... :)

[gotta-winwin]

nana tour seungcheol x reader

a/n: this was a request asking for seungcheol during nana tour - it deviates slightly but i hope it'll still satisfy the itch! we love ourselves a loyal man who knows what's up.

(1)

You supposed Seungcheol not being able to follow his group mates to Italy was a blessing in disguise. Of course, you knew how disappointed he was, watching as he bid farewell to them as they boarded the bus, waving goodbye with a melancholic look on his face. 

“I’m sorry you can’t go.” You mumbled against his shoulder as you leaned against him, looping your arms around his waist, careful not to knock against the crutches on either side of him. “Italy sounds fun.”

Seungcheol had always been the sacrificing type. “It’s okay.” He assured you, pressing his lips against the top of your head as he spoke. “It means I get to spend two weeks concentrated solely on you.” 

(2)

You could tell Seungcheol was taking full advantage of his two week break, trying to do anything and everything he couldn’t with his busy schedule. Lounging on the bed as you watched him game, you couldn’t help but snap a few photos to commemorate the moment. It was rare to see Seungcheol this relaxed, with nowhere to be and nothing pressing to do. He was purely just Seungcheol, your gentle giant of a lover and protector of your heart. 

(3)

Seungcheol makes it his own personal mission to complete your checklist of places you’ve never been with your boyfriend. It doesn’t matter if the two of you will be recognized in public, he’ll rent the damn museum if he has to. The two of you spend the two weeks doing every cringey couple activity Seoul has to offer, as he tries to make up for all the times he’s had to choose work over you.

(4)

You find it hilarious when Na PD calls you instead of Seungcheol for one of his quiz games, quietly shushing the boys on the other line as you flip the camera, Seungcheol asleep with his arms draped over your stomach. He’s snoring away without a care in the world as his members laugh through the screen. You answer whatever silly question they had been given to guess, thanking Na PD for bringing the boys on their first real vacation since debut. 

(5)

You’ve always said that your boyfriend also had a boyfriend. Since you had ever known him, Seungcheol and Jeonghan had always come as a pair. One could not exist or function without the other, this being evident as you would often walk into Seungcheol facetiming his other other half. Jeonghan had also cheekily given you the job of sending him what he deemed as a ‘Cheol selfie’ per day, claiming that it wasn’t fair you get him all to yourself and that he deserves compensation. 

(6)

The night before his members were due to return to Korea, Seungcheol had pulled you aside, distracting you from your book as the two of you laid in bed, the sky outside already a dark shade of blue. 

“You know I love you, right?” He whispered, snaking his arms around your waist like second nature. 

Of course you knew. He never once gave you even a moment to forget. 

“You know I love you more than anything, right?” Seungcheol nosed against your stomach, his face pressed against the bare skin of your waist. “And that I’d quit this job in a heartbeat if you ever asked.”

He knew you’d never ask that of him though. “I started loving you knowing that your job and its odd hours came with you.” You reminded him. “I know what I signed up for.”

“These past two weeks made me realize I want more.” He mumbled. “I don’t want to never be home when we start a family.” 

Your lips curled into a smile, looping your fingers through his hair. “You’ve thought of that?”

Seungcheol nodded against you, tugging you closer. The vows you had made each other, even silently, echoed soundlessly around the two of you. 

Seungcheol would choose you over anything in the world.