#but honestly a twist like that right at the beginning is only better for having wasted less of my time

[inkskinned]

you're grabbing lunch with a nice man and he gives you that strange grimace-smile that's popular right now; an almost sardonic "twist" of his mouth while he looks literally down on you. it looks like he practiced the move as he leans back, arms folded. he just finished reciting the details of NFTs to you and explaining Oppenheimer even though he only watched a youtube about it and hasn't actually seen it. you are at the bottom of your wine glass.

you ask the man across from you if he has siblings, desperately looking for a topic. literally anything else.

he says i don't like small talk. and then he smiles again, watching you.

a few years ago, you probably would have said you're above celebrity gossip, but honestly, you've been kind of enjoying the dumb shit of it these days. with the rest of the earth burning, there's something familiar and banal about dragging ariana grande through the mud. you think about jeanette mccurdy, who has often times gently warned the world she's not as nice as she appears. you liked i'm glad my mom died but it made you cry a lot.

he doesn't like small talk, figure out something to say.

you want to talk about responsibility, and how ariana grande is only like 6 days older than you are - which means she just turned 30 and still dresses and acts like a 13 year old, but like sexy. there's something in there about the whole thing - about insecurity, and never growing up, and being sexualized from a young age.

people have been saying that gay people are groomers. like, that's something that's come back into the public. you have even said yourself that it's just ... easier to date men sometimes. you would identify as whatever the opposite of "heteroflexible" is, but here you are again, across from a man. you like every woman, and 3 people on tv. and not this guy. but you're trying. your mother is worried about you. she thinks it's not okay you're single. and honestly this guy was better before you met, back when you were just texting.

wait, shit. are you doing the same thing as ariana grande? are you looking for male validation in order to appease some internalized promise of heteronormativity? do you conform to the idea that your happiness must result in heterosexuality? do you believe that you can resolve your internal loneliness by being accepted into the patriarchy? is there a reason dating men is easier? why are you so scared of fucking it up with women? why don't you reach out to more of them? you have a good sense of humor and a big ol' brain, you could have done a better job at online dating.

also. jesus christ. why can't you just get a drink with somebody without your internal feminism meter pinging. although - in your favor (and judgement aside) in the case of your ariana grande deposition: you have been in enough therapy you probably wouldn't date anyone who had just broken up with their wife of many years (and who has a young child). you'd be like - maybe take some personal time before you begin this journey. like, grande has been on broadway, you'd think she would have heard of the plot of hamlet.

he leans forward and taps two fingers to the table. "i'm not, like an andrew tate guy," he's saying, "but i do think partnership is about two people knowing their place. i like order."

you knew it was going to be hard. being non-straight in any particular way is like, always hard. these days you kind of like answering the question what's your sexuality? with a shrug and a smile - it's fine - is your most common response. like they asked you how your life is going and not to reveal your identity. you like not being straight. you like kissing girls. some days you know you're into men, and sometimes you're sitting across from a man, and you're thinking about the power of compulsory heterosexuality. are you into men, or are you just into the safety that comes from being seen with them? after all, everyone knows you're failing in life unless you have a husband. it almost feels like a gradebook - people see "straight married" as being "all A's", and anything else even vaguely noncompliant as being ... like you dropped out of the school system. you cannot just ignore years of that kind of conditioning, of course you like attention from men.

"so let's talk boundaries." he orders more wine for you, gesturing with one hand like he's rousing an orchestra. sir, this is a fucking chain restaurant. "I am not gonna date someone who still has male friends. also, i don't care about your little friends, i care about me. whatever stupid girls night things - those are lower priority. if i want you there, you're there."

he wasn't like this over text, right? you wouldn't have been even in the building if he was like this. you squint at him. in another version of yourself, you'd be running. you'd just get up and go. that's what happens on the internet - people get annoyed, and they just leave. you are locked in place, almost frozen. you need to go to the bathroom and text someone to call you so you have an excuse, like it's rude to just-leave. like he already kind of owns you. rudeness implies a power paradigm, though. see, even your social anxiety allows the patriarchy to get to you.

you take a sip of the new glass of wine. maybe this will be a funny story. maybe you can write about it on your blog. maybe you can meet ariana grande and ask her if she just maybe needs to take some time to sit and think about her happiness and how she measures her own success.

is this settling down? is this all that's left in your dating pool? just accepting that someone will eventually love you, and you have to stop being picky about who "makes" you a wife?

you look down to your hand, clutching the knife.

#writeblr #this is a mashup of like 3 dates i accidentally went on lol #by that i mean that i was out with a woman on a date in 2 of these situations #and a man just. joined us. and we were too awkward to say anything while he tried to ''date'' me #& one was a longterm friend that i was like. you what???? #like he's nice he's a doctor and my mom was SO happy she was like raquel think about it #''it's a perfect love story you grew up together and reconnected as adults and like the same things and he's friends with ur brother #and his sister is one of ur close friends!!!'' #yes but alas. he is a boy . she only likes girls. can i make it any more obvious #anyway im tryna write about like the force of male attention being actually incredibly ingrained to women like we are SUPPOSED to like it #it's seen as the only important thing #even if ur gay #and it's a nuanced thing idk #and while rn i i.d. as lesbian #like .... it wouldn't be UNTRUE to say i am probably like ''cusp bisexual'' bc i CAN experience attraction to men bc like . #sexuality is fluid... #don't tell straight ppl tho bc they do not understand the concept that ppl don't necessarily need a solid everlasting label #they're like GET in the BOX #if ur gay & in boston i'm 30 and pretty please come kiss me. #(i usually only date older ppl sorry in advance tho)

[shiny-jr]

from IGNIHYDE

- Warning: Yes, this is still a yandere thing. You have been warned. Gender-neutral reader.

- Characters: Idia Shroud, Ortho Shroud.

- Summary: (Continuation, after this “we just got a letter, wonder where it’s from”) You have barred them from entering the safety of Ramshackle Dorm, but they are determined to make their words reach you. Which is why the letters begin arriving at your doorstep.

- Note: This seems a little more low-key than Diasomnia, but the obsession is there if you squint. It’s just way more low-key than the previous group. For some reason I feel like I maybe wrote Ortho a little off? Not sure. Feel free to tell me your thoughts.

Diasomnia   |   Ignihyde   |   Pomefiore

The break ends quickly. Too quickly. Before you know it, you’re back in front of the mountain of unread letters that appears even more ominous than before now that you could guess what sort of dark contents they may hold. 

For your own peace of mind, you’ve decided to read only two and then take a pause right after. 

The first of which was just a simple long white envelope. That’s it. There was nothing that stood out about it, no special seal or stamp. It was just the generic type of encasing that made it look like it was some sort of bill instead of a letter containing what was bound to be a message that unsettled you in some way, shape, or form. 

When you removed the letter, you was surprised to see that it wasn’t handwritten, it had been typed and printed out. It didn’t take a genius to figure out who this was from. 

Player, 

I messed everything up.

I don’t even see a point to doing this, writing this for you. I mean, if I were you, I’d never want to see my no-good miserable face ever again. I’d go to every length just to avoid even speaking to me again, and to spite them I’d never even show myself around again. But–– Ortho was making a letter and brought my keyboard to my lap. He said it was worth a shot, and if anything, it could be used as an apology so... sorry.

Any sorry would sound half-assed, considering what happened. It’s not like it matters, since I’m sure you wouldn’t read this. I imagine you would figure out it’s from me, and proceed to tear it up, burn it, whatever. And honestly? Valid. At this point, I’m sort of using it as a vent. Usually, I’d be telling Ortho all this, but all these thoughts I’m having would only bum him out and he’s depressed enough as it is. 

You know what sucks besides all of this? The fact that I genuinely tried. I actually tried to be a help for once, and like it always ends, my attempt to help screwed it up even more. Maybe if I had kept my mouth shut and minded my own business while holing myself up in my room like I always do, things wouldn’t have turned out this bad. If I just did what I was good at, which is nothing, Ortho and I might’ve avoided the shitstorm. Everyone else is currently throwing pity parties and plotting these super over elaborate schemes to try and interact with you by luring you out of the Ramshackle place. 

Ortho’s been coming up with plans too with other guys from the dorms that are just so desperate for your attention. It’s sad to watch, pathetic too, but I don’t have the heart to tell him not to bother with it. And me, I know better. If I were in your position and I saw all these attempts, it would definitely make me extra bitter and just hate everyone even more. Oh, I just remembered something worth mentioning. You may not believe me, I mean, I wouldn’t believe a single word coming from me, but I wasn’t actually going to hurt Grim. You though? Before I knew who you were? Yeah. Don’t get it twisted though, I was just doing it to fix everything until the whole truth got leaked not too long after.

Call me stupid, I guess. When I first saw how others revered you like how a bunch of creepy basement-dwellers look at a pretty perfect idol on a shiny bright stage, it was a major red flag. I wanted nothing to do with you. But when you started worming yourself into my life and I started getting attached, well, that made me a creep too for liking you. Red flags be damned. What can I say? Your presence even through Yuu, made me feel like I mattered, which is something I don’t experience a lot. 

You’d never know it, but I took risks just to be in the same room as your avatar. 

Missing special events on games, losing the chance to catch a concert live on screen, even ditching group calls with teammates and friends... All of that was utterly worthless if I got at least a solid sixty seconds by you. 

Unlike everyone else, I know better than to just show up at your doorstep and beg for forgiveness like some misguided puppy. Malleus and co. have been making sure you’re not disturbed, guarding you like a pack of guard dogs or something, preventing anyone from embarrassing themselves and messing up any further. Ortho said I should at least try to call you, I think he just wants to hear your voice. But why bother? 

Don’t get it wrong, I’m not just letting everything go just like that. As much as I’d like to, and I know it’s probably the “healthy” and “good” thing to do, I don’t want to. I’m not good, you know that already. I’ll keep in the background this time, and try not to mess up again. Although no guarantees, because with my lousy luck, I know something will inevitably go wrong. Don’t worry, I won’t bother you. I wouldn’t want to make the mental image you have of me in your mind even worse, if its even remotely possible for it to somehow get worse. I just can’t let go. Even if you looked at me like trash, avoided me like the plague, or straight up tell me ‘I hate you’ to my face, I still won’t let go. 

And, well, all I can really think of right now besides you, is Ortho. Even if I can’t show my disgraced presence to you anymore, I still hope you’ll see Ortho. At least if Ortho could explain to you that he was acting on my plan, he might get lucky and be next to you again. Maybe. Hard maybe. 

But me? No, I don’t ever deserve to be anywhere near you anymore. For now, I’ll go back to how things were way back... when your vessel hadn’t yet had the misfortune of meeting me and I just watched your every move from monitors like some sort of loser schmuck. 

I think I’ll just imagine how things would be if I hadn’t doomed all my chances. If I had a chance... maybe I would’ve actually worked up the gall to sit next to you, or even look at you, or, hell, talk to you. At least, I’ll always remember when you used your avatar to look at me and it didn’t feel bad... like, almost like you didn’t see me as some lame nobody. That must’ve been my mind just playing tricks on me though, right? There’s no way that happened... 

Enough of this mushy stuff though. I’m sick of it. 

Just throw this in the fire without a second glance. 

Idia Shroud 

In order to get this over as quickly as possible, you decided to continue without taking a breather. The quicker you finished reading them, the better, that way, you wouldn’t even give your mind any time to fully process what you were reading before overwhelming your vision with more lines and lines of words until they became blurred together. 

You wouldn’t stop, because if you stopped, that would be allowing your mind the opportunity to spiral out of control. You needed a distraction. 

This wasn’t exactly the good type of distraction either, it was more like adding gasoline to the fire, but part of you had to know what they would say. No matter what feelings you held, the curiosity outweighed it. 

The second letter is identical to the first, a simple long white envelope with no particularly interesting details about it other than the fact that it had zero stains and no wrinkles on it. It was pristine and clean, not even a drop of ink on it. The insides of the envelope itself were blue, with small white lines on it, but upon closer inspection it became obvious that they weren’t just stripes, they were skull symbols so tiny that it was hardly noticeable. 

Of course, as you expected, the letter inside was not handwritten. It was folded so precisely into thirds, and unfolding it displayed the typed and printed words neatly stacked in indented paragraphs. 

Greetings, Player, 

First, I want to apologize sincerely. 

Secondly, I want to tell you how much I have missed you, and my brother has missed you as well! I don’t believe I can fully comprehend how you are felling at the current moment, and I cannot even accurately guess to what emotions you are experiencing. In my attempt to alleviate the situation, I’ve been running millions of simulations of possible alternative futures in order to take the best route where things might return to a semblance of normalcy. 

Well, a new normal, now that you’re here! However... when each simulation yields a result, I can’t help but feel as if something is wrong. That’s when I realized there was a key component that was off. It was you, or rather, Yuu. We know of Yuu and their mannerisms and opinions, but that isn’t really you. Yuu is a vessel, and extension, that’s partially based off yourself. 

So none of us know the true you. At least, not yet! I’m hoping to change that. Just when I think I’m beginning to understand you, things like this happen. But, that’s what makes you so exciting! There’s always some unforeseen detail and amazing new aspect of yourself to learn about. Once I get a proper grasp on what you’re truly like, I can use that new knowledge to make you happy, just as you made me and my brother always smile!  But also, I want to use it to make it up to you. Honestly, I’m scared that you’ll hate me. In the simulations I ran that gave inaccurate results due to those missing components, nearly all the results had a bad ending... 

I don’t want that. I want to have a ‘normal’ way with you and Idia! A good normal! Like where we might all have movie nights in the Ignihyde dorm with freshly popped popcorn and candies as snacks, or study days when we read over notes and help each other out, maybe you might even be able to convince Idia to leave his room so we can all share lunch in the cafeteria like a group of friends would typically do! That’s what I want! I don’t think I could stand knowing I made you cry or was the cause of your pain. I never hurt you, right? At least not physically. 

Believe me, I had made attempts to meet you. But those in Diasomnia won’t allow it. I was tempted to charge up the technomantic beam installed within my form, but realizing it wasn’t necessary, I didn’t. Idia was right when he didn’t make an effort to even join me, and Malleus Draconia with his own have realized it too. You aren’t ready yet. Even if I’m more than prepared to see you, I can’t rush you. So, I left this letter in their hands, hoping it reached you. If not, there’s no worries. I’ve prepared a dozen more printed copies and if that fails, I’ve created a digital copy! 

Since I couldn’t tell you in person, I’ll tell you through paper... 

I’d like to invite you to formally meet me. I’m even prepared to surprise Idia with this! That’ll cheer him up for sure. You always made him happy, so us properly meeting you would be a dream come true for us both! 

If you’d like to do something upon meeting us, I’ve organized multiple activities for us to participate in. The other first years have reached out and expressed their own desires to make up for the mistakes they made. So, I met with them a few days ago to make plans you might enjoy! These plans are still in the preparation phase, so I can’t reveal them quite yet, but soon I will! 

Anyways, I just wanted to make you aware of this. And I want to say ‘I’m sorry’ even though it feels minuscule to what I’m only guessing must be the strong emotions you feel toward what occurred. But I wanted to let you know that I always want to be your friend, and I always will be, even if you don’t really like me anymore. Friends are supposed to be there for each other, right? So I’ll be there for you now. Remember, I’m a high-tech being, I can be of great use to you if you want! Even if you’d rather just use me as a tool, I would be happy. If you want someone obliterated to ashes or are just looking to answers as to what the weather might be, I would gladly help you with that and so much more! 

And it’s not only me that could be useful to you, my brother can too! Although he probably won’t say it, he depends on you a lot. You’re like a battery to him, you give him the energy he needs. If you’d let him, let us both, we’d be there for you in a zeptosecond! 

There’s one thing I know for certain. You’re the common variable needed for our happiness, no matter the scenario or result, you are a requirement. And I’m certain we can bring you happiness as well. Myself, my brother, and everyone that treasures you, can bring you joy if you allow it. All I want is to see you happy, and everyone else happy as well. So will you please at least consider seeing us again? Soon? Please? 

Hoping to see you soon. 

From your friend, 

Ortho Shroud  

#twisted wonderland #twst #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere twst #twst imposter au #I didn't ask to get isekaied #we just got a letter wonder who it’s from #idia shroud #yandere idia shroud #twst idia #ortho shroud #twst ortho #yandere ortho shroud #ignihyde

[allur1ngs]

mafia boss bada reacting to reader in a suit looking badass omg bada would literally drop her jaw :0

i added my own twist to this i hope you don't mind 💌

Although you've spent a good amount of time at the Lee mansion already, you haven’t exactly gotten the chance to get to know the Bebe girls better. They’re often out on Bada’s orders or working on a job – all of them are almost as busy as your fiancée. However, today, on a rare occurrence, none of the girls were out on jobs or busy doing other work. You found this to be the best time to approach the girls and create a stronger bond with them.

...So far, spending time with Bebe has been one of the most exciting, chaotic, and fun-filled days you’ve had in a while.

“Who out of the seven of us do you think can do the best Bada impression?” Lusher asks you. She and the rest of team Bebe stand before you like contestants on a dance show, their shoulders pushed back, and heads held up high like professionals.

“Hmm,” you hum, “I think I need to see everyone’s impersonation before I can make a decision.”

“Ah, yes, yes.” Tatter nods, “We should all go up one by one and do an impression. When we’re all done, unnie gets to decide who did the best.”

Resounding murmurs of agreement echo between the girls, all of them nodding their heads in sync.

“Okay, who goes first?” Cheche asks aloud.

“Youngest goes first!” Lusher points at Sowoen, the other girls turning to face her with wide smiles.

“Sowoen, Sowoen, Soweon!” They all begin chanting, making you laugh as the girl shyly steps forward.

She quickly straightens up her posture and puts on a serious face – almost a deadpan – as she walks toward you like she’s on a catwalk. She stops a few feet away from you, crossing her arms across her chest. “Where have you been?” She speaks to you in a lower voice, trying to mimic Bada’s lower baritone. “I was worried about you.”

The girls standing behind Soweon let out loud cheers and gasps, clapping for her convincing performance.

“Wow, she did good!” Minah awes.

“How are we supposed to beat that already?” Tatter whines, pointing at Soweon accusingly.

“Good job, Soweon.” You nod, smiling at her and giving her a thumbs up.

The youngest member of Bebe smiles widely as well, before moving back to her position in line, accepting high-fives from the other girls.

“Okay, Cheche’s next!” Lusher announces, the girls hollering in excitement and pushing her forward.

Cheche fixes her suit, smoothing out any wrinkles before making her way over to you, trying to wear a serious expression, but her amused smile manages to peek through slightly, disrupting her impression. “Lusher, gather all of Bebe, we’re going to find my fiancée!” She says heartily, her mimicry clearly more comical than Soweon’s serious attempt.

The girls all burst into laughter, grabbing onto each other and pointing at Cheche in amusement. You also struggle to keep yourself from laughing; her impression is almost the complete opposite of Bada’s demeanor.

“Ya, are you even trying?” Tatter cackles, holding onto Lusher’s arms for support so she doesn’t fall onto the floor with laughter.

“You should be on a comedy show!” Minah adds, covering her mouth with her hand and slapping her thigh over and over again.

“Come on, it was good!” Cheche laughs along with her friends before turning to look at you. “Right, unnie?”

“Yeah unnie, tell us what you think,” Lusher says cheekily.

“Uhm, well,” you begin, feeling laughter already bubbling in your throat. “I think the intention was there…”

Your comment only makes the girls laugh harder, as they begin to almost flop around like fish while taking in heaving breaths.

“Unnie can’t even find the words–” Tatter says while wiping tears of laughter from the corner of her eyes.

“No!” You giggle, “It honestly wasn’t that bad!”

“Not that bad!” Kyma emphasizes through boisterous laughter, grabbing onto Cheche’s shoulder and bringing her back into the line.

After that, Kyma and Minah go, both giving a performance similar to Cheche’s, except slightly more accurate. It’s clear that the impressions are slowly deviating from serious to “who can make the funniest impression of Bada.”

“Next up, Tatter!” Lusher cups her hands around her mouth, projecting her voice loudly. All the girls cheer for Tatter as she walks up, bowing in a joking manner.

However, her expression instantly shifts when she does her catwalk toward you. She motions for Hyo to help her with her Bada impression, and your bodyguard quickly steps up next to her, waiting until Tatter whispers something in her ear. When she pulls away, Hyo sighs dejectedly but nods, suddenly moving forward to grab your wrist, but keeping her grip light and respectful.

Tatter walks up close to Hyo, wearing an intimidating expression that surprises you. “Not so fast.” She says to your bodyguard in a low voice.

Hyo gives a half-assed attempt at a terrified expression – glancing around the room and artificially widening her eyes. “I–” She mutters, her voice so monotone you almost break out into laughter.

But then Tatter takes it a step further. “You made her drop her clothes, pick it up, now!”

Immediately, Hyo lets go of your wrists, dropping to the floor and picking up imaginary pieces of clothing and placing them onto her arms.

Tatter breaks character then, stepping to the side to face both you and the girls, bowing deeply. “Thank you, thank you.”

The other Bebe girls who’d been silent out of shock burst into screams, applauding loudly and letting out amazed remarks.

“I think she’s in first place!” Kyma nods.

“She’ll definitely win.” Minah agrees.

“You were very good, Tatter.” You admit, smiling at her. “I felt like I was experiencing that event all over again.”

“Thank you unnie.” She grins proudly. “You’re going to choose me as the winner, right?”

“Hold on!” Lusher cuts in, holding her hands up in a “stop” motion. “Hyo and I haven’t gone yet!”

“Right.” You nod, “But you’re definitely on the top of my list so far, Tatter.”

“Yes!” She cheers, walking back into line and accepting fist-bumps from her friends.

“Okay Hyo, you’re second to last!” Lusher motions for your bodyguard to begin her impression.

Hyo smirks and nods, taking off her sunglasses for a moment before placing them back on the bridge of her nose but letting them hang slightly lower. She makes a rectangle shape with her hand, and then makes a writing motion.

“Ohh, she’s mimicking what Bada looks like when she works,” Soweon mutters under her breath.

Hyo suddenly pushes her sunglasses up her nose before making a knocking noise by clicking her tongue against her teeth. “Who is it?” She does a surprisingly good impression of Bada’s voice, using her advantage of already having a raspier and deeper voice.

Silence passes through the air for a moment before Hyo speaks again.

“It’s me, your very best friend!” She does a slightly higher-pitched tone, clearly trying to mimic Lusher’s voice.

You immediately gasp, slapping your hand over your mouth in shock to stop yourself from laughing as the other Bebe girls all do the same.

“Hey, what is this? I don’t sound like that!” Lusher complains lightheartedly, clearly not hurt by Hyo’s impression but instead trying to keep her laughter in.

“No, no, I think she’s pretty accurate,” Tatter says to Lusher slyly, her friend lightly elbowing her in the side as an act of retaliation.

Hyo continues her impression, ignoring the girls' comments in the background. She sighs dramatically and loudly, stopping her writing motion in the process. “Go away Lusher, I’m working!” She does Bada’s low voice again, this time her volume much louder to convey annoyance. “But–but–” Hyo does Lusher’s voice again, about to finish her bit off before the girl herself stops her.

“Alright, that’s enough!” She pushes Hyo back into line, everyone finally bursting into laughter at her annoyed expression. “It’s my turn now, the best for last!”

“Hyo, you did very good!” You tell her while holding up two thumbs up, making your bodyguard smile and nod her head back.

“Unnie!” Lusher says in a betrayed voice. “Let me show you what I can do.”

And show you, she does.

As soon as she begins her walk, she approaches you, gently grabbing you by the waist, then heading over in Hyo’s direction. She stops right in front of her, her eyes set in a glare as she spins you around so you’re tucked into her side. “Who do you think you are touching my fiancée like that, huh?” Because Lusher is almost Bada’s height, she slightly towers over Hyo, her chin at your bodyguard’s eye level.

You’re shocked at Lusher’s brazen display, to the point where you’re left speechless even as she backs away from an unamused Hyo and focuses on you instead.

She turns you to face her, placing her hands on your shoulders and staring deeply into your eyes with a serious expression. “You are my world,” she mutters, leaning in like she’s about to go in for a kiss. The girls behind her gasp with you, placing their hands over their mouths in shock as they watch with bated breath to see if Lusher will really do it.

But of course, at the last second, she pulls away, letting out a celebratory shout.

The girls explode, all screaming that she was way too good.

“I don’t know who I want to be, Lusher or unnie!”

“Ya, when did you get so good at impressions, Lusher!”

“I really thought she was going to kiss unnie.” Tatter says, mouth still agape.

“No, I don’t have a death wish.” Lusher laughs. “If Bada found out I kissed her, even as a joke, by tomorrow morning you’d find me tied up to the front gates!” She then turns to look at you, smiling widely. “So, I won, right?”

Still half in shock, you’re unable to utter a single word. You try to gather your bearings, and when you finally are about to speak, someone interrupts you.

“Hold on, unnie hasn’t done an impression yet.” Minah points out.

Resounding sounds of “ohhh” in agreement fill the air, making all the girls shift their focus to you.

“Unnie, do a Bada impression!” Tatter insists.

“Oh–” you begin, but are interrupted again.

“I have the perfect idea!” Lusher holds up her hands in a wait motion before taking off toward the hallway, and away from you all. You and the girls stare at each other with confused expressions, whispering between each other what they think their second-in-command is doing.

When Lusher comes back a few minutes later, she has a pile of clothing in her arms. She races over to you, placing the pieces in your hands.

“You should put on a suit too!”

For what feels like the millionth time, the girls explode into excitement, all of them agreeing that they want to see what you look like in a suit and that it will elevate the impression.

“But won’t I be biased if I do an impression too?” You point out.

“Don’t worry about it, just go change.” Lusher pushes you toward a nearby bathroom, opens the door, then gives you one last gentle push inside before closing the door.

You stare at the closed door for a second before chuckling under your breath and unraveling the clothing Lusher had handed you. You strip and put them on, looking at yourself after you’re fully changed.

“Whoa.” You say, staring at yourself in the reflection of the sink’s mirror. The suit fits you extremely well – not too tight and not too baggy – and surprisingly, you look incredibly good in more traditionally masculine clothing.

You’ve worn suits before – though not that your mother or father approved – but of course the fabric of the suit you’re wearing is much more luxurious and clearly better quality.

You look like a strong, confident woman – you suppose suits do that.

A knock on the door brings you out of your stupor. “Are you done changing?” Lusher’s voice rings out.

“Yes!” You reply.

“Okay!” Lusher opens the door, looking in to get a sneak peek. And when she sees you, she gasps.

You smile, walking out of the bathroom confidently, and standing in front of all the girls with your hands in your pockets.

Immediately, the girls start screaming at the top of their lungs in shock, grabbing onto each other for support as they stare at you.

“Unnie, is that you?” Tatter says in genuine surprise.

“She looks so confident, I think I’m going to pass out.” Minah says dramatically, fanning herself.

“She wears a suit better than all of us!” Cheche exclaims.

“I can’t believe what I’m seeing.” Soweon adds, her mouth wide open.

“You look good, kid.” Hyo gives you a nod of approval.

“I completely forgot she was supposed to be mimicking Bada–” Kyma comments to Chehe under her breath, her eyes widening.

“Unnie, please leave Bada for me!” Lusher whines, looking genuinely distressed. You can’t help but laugh at all the girls' positive reactions, genuinely happy that they think you look good in clothing you don’t normally wear. You open your mouth to say something when another voice cuts in.

“Why are you all screaming?” Bada’s gruff voice comes from a few feet away. She approaches the long line of Bebe girls, trying to see what all the fuss is about. “I heard you all the way from my office–” she stops mid-sentence, finally breaking through the barricade and locking onto your figure.

Like she'd been struck by lightning, she freezes, her mouth dropping, and her eyes going so wide you barely can make out any of her iris. She looks you up and down once, twice, thrice, and then a fourth time.

Bada closes her mouth, then opens it, looking like she wants to say something, but nothing comes out. She just stands there in shock, admiring how amazing you look in a suit.

“Look, the Boss is swooning!” Lusher points at Bada while laughing hysterically; the girls start giggling as well, all the while your fiancée stays stock still in her spot.

“Bada?” You say through a laugh. “Are you okay?”

It seems like your words finally break Bada out of her trance, and she's finally able to speak. “Yes,” she rasps, never taking her eyes off of you.

“Are you sure–” you're not able to finish your sentence because Bada suddenly finds feeling in her legs and surges forward, grabbing onto you gently and throwing you over her shoulder. “What–” you yelp in shock, your world turning upside down as your fiancée starts to walk away from her subordinates. “Bada, what are you doing?”

“I don’t want them looking at you.” She huffs with a pout, advancing toward a more secluded area. “Let me admire you in private, away from them.”

Yes, spending the day with the Bebe girls certainly turned out to be an eventful experience.

taglist:

@aericrys, @somerandomtinyperson, @bluebada, @dallaji, @luvjanexx, @hyejuwu, @diana-rose-25, @jjlovesbada, @cephox, @prilux, @youknow1234, @fae-the-wanderer, @mightymyo, @aein-tings, @badasgirlfriend, @onlyyou-metanoia, @wiselight, @badasoneandonly, @multiliker, @badabonita, @randomhoex, @justaharmlesspotat0, @sporadicfacebasement

(if your name is crossed out i wasn't able to to tag you)

want to join the taglist? send me a message or comment saying you'd like to be on it, and i'll add you!

#bada lee x reader #bada x reader #bada lee #bada #street woman fighter 2 x reader #swf2 x reader

[de-bauchry]

Since The “Incident”

pairing: nanami x gn assistantreader!

warning: minors dni!! , masturbation , mentions of doggystyle , slightly mean dom nanami? reader is fantasizing , hair pulling , size difference , no mentions of gender , tummy bulge

a/n: hiii I know it’s been a while but the new ep and seeing nanami?? has finally got me mf going like omg him in that new episode is HMMMRAAAGGHHHJDJSAIN ZAYUM like *chefs kiss* exquisite he is SO fine. but this is a little rushy because like honestly this is off the brain and I jus typed it down like quick asf so I can get it out before I forget it and shiz BUT I HOPE YALL LIKE IT xoXo 💋

It was late night and you were horny and frustrated. Two days ago you had the chance to witness the grade 1 sorcerer Nanami in action, punishing that boy for his vile crimes, and putting your senior assistants to rest.

All was sad but—thinking back on the way nanami rolled up his blue clad sleeves with his large, veiny hands, vexation oozing off him as he was strutting towards that childish long haired freak. That wasn’t even the thing that struck your core the most—- it was the way nanamin wrapped his hand around the blonde man’s hair and yanked him up by it with that gaze, that glare.

In that moment you had many emotions brewing, but the way your superior looked, anger dripping off his veins, giving that man a rightful punishment, how he owned him, and his workouts obviously working for him with how buff and huge he’s gotten, it all set a heat between your legs and a vivid memory.

Ever since you’ve been thinking about him nonstop. The urge to touch yourself to the thought of nanami using you like that, engorged cock ramming into you in doggystyle, face buried into the sheets, twisting your hair up into a tight fist in his giant hand, pulling you up making your neck& back arch back to look at him, while pounding his cock in and out of your holes so deep.

Eyes focused on the strong man’s fucked out angry look in his eye, the pain in your head from his grip making tears prick at the sides of your eyes, only causing you to secrete more and more around his cock from how good it feels to be his personal fucktoy to release his anger out on.

“This how a little thing like you needs to be fucked, hm?” The older man purrs against the cuff of your ear (more like growls), it was less of a question and moreover something nanamin knew, he knew exactly what you wanted, what you needed. That’s why your insides flutter around him to the sound of his voice.

Suddenly you start to feel pressure slowly begin to build in your stomach, feeling as though you can feel his dick in your guts now, you try and crane your head to look down to see what’s happening, only to catch a glimpse of his big hand pressing down on your tummy bulge before he yanks your hair back to look at his disappointed gaze. “Shouldn’t have done that pretty.” Sir nanami says before your little sex dream starts getting better, you can feel yourself spurting a large mess all over your sheets and hands from the imagery of nanami pressing down on the bulge in your stomach.

Panting heavily as you slowly start to come down for you sex hazed daydream.

#nanami kento x gender neutral reader #nanami kento headcanons #nanami kento smut #nanami headcanons #jujutsu kaisen nanami #nanami smut #jjk nanami #nanami kento #nanami #nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanamin #anime smut #gender neutral y/n #gender neutral reader #jujutsu kaisen blog #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen #nanami x male reader #nanami x y/n #gojo smut #smut #nanami drabbles #anime drabble

[1-ker0sene-1]

i’m the era of disabled!reader, would you write something for reader who has epilepsy? 🥺 can’t find any fics in my chosen fandom with epileptic reader (or oc) and it makes me sad 🥺

{I hope you don't mind me pairing with Simon on this one ♥️ I hope you enjoy! And please if I get anything wrong lemme know! I'm more than willing to come back and edit!}

CW: improper seizure safety (not by you or Simon), epilepsy seizure description

In full honesty, Simon didn't know if he could do it in the beginning of your relationship. He didn't think he could handle your seizures.. Of course now- having been properly educated about it. He would absolutely scold himself for thinking that, you just need a little bit of help sometimes. You aren't a damn charity case and he hates when people treat you like it. You deserve to be comfortable and safe, not pitied and prodded at. Not only is he your partner and best friend, Simon has become your biggest advocate. Of support for your condition, but also your independence.

One of the first things you both sat down and talked about when getting serious, was seizure safety. Simon needed to know how to help, at least as much as he possibly could without hurting you. He also learned throughout this, that not all seizures are the same. Sometimes you're just.. Absent, with a flutter of your eyes or a quiet mumble as your gaze flickers to nowhere. You just seem lost for a couple minutes. Other times it's the seizures everyone thinks of, where you stiffen, twitch and seize, sometimes even falling to the floor. How can he help? He's a little stressed when learning that there's not much he can do but carefully maneuver you into a recovery position, put something under your head, and just be there for you.

Simon won't ever forget your scariest seizure, you two were just shopping. Simple. He left your side for forty-eight seconds. Exactly forty-eight, he remembers. He just went to grab something you forgot in a different aisle. Picking up a box of chicken stock for dinner, he hears the slam of your body hitting the floor. He remembers the feeling of his stomach twisting into knots, dropping the container and making a run back to your aisle when he hears someone call out.

It's not you calling, you're far into the seizing, a citizen found you before Simon did. Now it's not the bastards fault, this stranger didn't know how to help you, so in the panic the man was holding your shoulders down trying to still you. Simons hackles raise, words ripped from the masked mans throat instantly.

"Off her- NOW."

Simon didn't think, he just moved, his big meaty hand grabbed the man by the back of the neck and threw him away from you. He's honestly been nicer to enemy soldiers. He didn't even spare the stranger another glance, falling hard to his knees next to you.

" 'm right here baby.. Right here.."

He rips the balaclava off his head, definitely taking a tuff of hair from his scalp. Not that he would notice right now. Simon carefully lifted your head just to slip it under, the softer fabric better than the hard floor. Stroking your hair away from your face, he doesn't hold you down- but his hands are close to you, resting featherlight on your cheek.

"You're safe doll.. I'm right here.. it'll pass."

He murmurs to you, unsure if you're hearing, but either way he keeps talking you through. Now, his arms gently hook under your leg, being as gentle as he can- his hands position you to your recovery position and on your side. Fishing out his phone quickly, he's already got the timer going. Less than five minutes. Please be less than five minutes.

"I have you sweetheart.."

Simon is right by you, watching your every movement closely. He's shoved away any items, just you and him on the floor.

"Should we call an ambulance?"

A stranger asks, Simon shakes his head. Never taking his eyes off you. You just had to go through it. If it's not a long one you should recover alright.

"I have her. Just stay back and move on-"

He snaps, he's stressed, he knows they're just concerned but he doesn't want anyone fucking with you right now. Simons eyes light up as the seizing calms, under two minutes, you're coming back to him. He finally lets out the massive breath he's been holding in. His thumb caresses your cheek.

"You're alright.. there you are.. you're okay."

Simon curls himself closer to you, stroking your cheek as your eyes slowly start adjusting back. You're foggy, confused, he's holding you a little closer and whispering softly.

"it's Simon, love.. Your Simons right here. You're right here.. we're in the store baby."

Now that you were coming back from it, Simon slips himself behind you as he moves you to lay against his chest. It's a while before you're able to be moved, waiting until you're fully alert again, he's taking it slow carrying you back to the car and getting you home. The rest of the week is spent easing you through the recovery. Low lights, he knows your head is aching. Lots. Absolutely lots of sweet talking. His strong girl.. he calls you. Making sure you take your meds on time and get plenty of rest.

"I'm sorry Si.. I didn't mean to scare you.."

You mumble, in bed together. Simon is sat up against the headboard, holding you close on his lap. His hand strokes locks of your hair, shaking his head sternly.

"Don't be apologizin' for anything. Didn't do a damn thing wrong-"

His hand slips to hold your chin, making you lock eyes with him.

"Hear me? Nothin'. I got you.. I'll always have my girl."

#disabled reader #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #cod mw x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley headcanons #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley x y/n #ghost imagine #cod ghost x you #cod ghost x reader #simon ghost x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #ghost cod x reader

[xxsabitoxx]

Easy

<Douma x Fem! Reader Drabble>

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, Douma calls the reader “little one” but reader is very much of age don’t get it twisted

A/N: the first of many drabbles! Thank you all for sending so many characters! Douma was the first suggestion I got so naturally I’m just gonna go in order of who was suggested. Next up is Geto :)

Word count: a little under 1.3k

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“How cute…” you ignored him, jaw clenched tight as sweat dripped down your temple. He was large, much larger than you had ever anticipated and that was honestly saying a lot. Even now, after multiple attempts at this, you still couldn’t get used to the size of him.

Truly you shouldn’t have been shocked when he made you crawl into his lap, just to see you struggle to take him. It was like a power trip for him, watching your thighs tremble in effort to not sink further but not pull away from the pain either.

Douma seemed unbothered, lounging comfortably among his piles of fine silks and pillows. Technicolour eyes observing where he disappeared between your shaking thighs. “Are you sure you don’t want help?” It came out in a sigh, his hand pressing to his cheek as he watched you try and sink a little lower.

“Shut…up…” anyone would be crazy to talk to him like that. It would be the last thing they ever said, especially with that tone. Yet, Douma let you talk to him however you wanted. Why? He found it cute.

“You seem to be struggling little one. Trust me, I could make things work a lot faster.” He cooed, pointed nail trailing up your skin, making you jerk in his lap and cry out. You could hardly catch your breath, knowing well that this process would be a lot more pleasurable for you if you just let him take over.

Yet, you were going against your better judgement and attempting to ride him. The stretch at the angle you were in was nearly unbearable, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to get off him nor change your mind.

“Look at you… making a mess.” His laughter was cold, just as cold as the ever present smile on his face. You knew he was right, your own arousal was starting to drip down your inner thighs. “I said…to shut up.” You choked as you forced yourself to take another inch or so of him.

You were a little over half way there, honestly you couldn’t think much last fitting him. Actually moving once you bottomed out was a completely different battle you’d worry about when it got there.

“Remember what we talked about? About biting the hand that feeds you?” You froze, finally allowing your eyes to meet his. “Be careful how you speak to me, little one.” You knew it was all an act, solely so he could do what he did next. It was a simple movement, his hips jerking up so quickly you couldn’t even prepare yourself for it.

A guttural cry echoed in the chamber as you scrambled for something to hold. Your nails found purchase in the fine silk of his red top, the material bunching a bit at his waist from when he took his belt and pants off. “See, how easy was that?”

You couldn’t speak, the wind knocked from your lungs as you tried to will your body to stop trembling. It was only a matter of seconds before the burning stretch turned to pleasure, but it was still enough to have you seeing stars and praying it would pass. “Cat got your tongue, little one?” Douma smiled, readjusting himself to hold your waist and keep you in place.

He would never get tired of feeling you spasming around him, no matter how many times you stuffed yourself full of his cock you still struggled. He adored it. The pain on your face was just too much for him, how could he not fuck you when you looked so cute struggling.

He’d convince you some day to take his offer, stay by his side and be his eternal play thing.

“Start moving, or I’ll do it for you.” He cooed, gently guiding your waist up. You shivered as you felt him begin to slip out of you, sweat dripping off your temple and down to your bare chest. Douma watched it, tongue darting out to lick his lips. “C’mon little one… don’t keep me waiting.” You nodded, no longer having any will to fight him on his requests.

If you at least amused him by attempting he’d eventually take over and fuck you properly. That was enough to have your body aching as you tried to fuck yourself on his length.

You could barely get him half way out before dropping down again, the pain steadily transitioning to throbbing pleasure as you tried to ignore the burning in your thighs. You felt your face warm as an audible squelch began emitting from between your thighs. The pain from the stretch had disappeared all together, your walls trembling each time he bruised your cervix.

“Little one…” he cooed again, hand leaving your waist to grab your chin. “Just ask, I’ll take over.” His eyes narrowed, the promise of relief was sitting right before you. He could see you struggling to swallow your pride. You always struggled, but you always gave in.

“Master… lord…. Please.” You squeaked, not able to process how you were now on your back, legs thrown over his shoulders with his nails digging into your soft skin. Blood pricked the surface, slowly dripping past the indents Douma’s nails were creating. “So stubborn little one. Look how easy it is to get your way when you listen to me.”

You said nothing, body bracing for him to move. He gave you a once over, smiling at the dried blood and various bite marks he had left on your skin. He would forever be torn between consuming you and keeping you forever. He’d have both if he could.

Douma’s hips drew back before snapping forward again, earning a yell in response. Your cries and whimpers fueled him, hips pounding mercilessly into you after only a few seconds of looking for a good rhythm.

Your head fell back against the cushions, nails digging into the silks. Giving in always pissed you off, but it was hard to stay mad when he was able to hit everywhere just right. As always, you were lost in your own pleasure. You figured out long ago that it was impossible to get Douma to look anything but blissed out.

He’d never let you know he was feeling anything, not even a moan or sigh to let you know you were doing good. The only way you figured Douma even enjoyed himself was when he asked you to come back and do it again. Repetition was your only give away that Douma actually enjoyed your presence.

Then again, he was such a charmer it wouldn’t shock you if he did this kind of thing with the other women in his cult. He promised you he didn’t, but every promise from his lips was typically empty. Unless it was the promise of this…

“Coming already?” He teased as you thrashed against the silk materials decorating his chamber. The addicting clench of your walls around him, the warm gush that he desperately wanted to taste. You could only cry out, letting him abuse your cunt through your high and continue even after you came down.

“You’re so easy, little one. Your pussy is so easy to please.” Your eyes squeezed shut, embarrassment filling your frame as he gushed on and on about how cute you were, how much he loved your cunt, how he could never get tired of it. Even if it was empty compliments, you couldn’t ignore the way your body reacted to them.

Aching for more. Always aching for him.

#kny #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer imagines #demon slayer fanfic #demon slayer headcanons #demon slayer smut #xxsabitoxx’s work! #kny smut #kimetsu no yaiba smut #douma smut #douma x y/n #douma x you #douma x reader #kny douma #douma imagine #douma demon slayer

[wen-kexing-apologist]

Symptoms of a System Error: The Manifestation of Myungha's Depression in Love for Love's Sake

Ok I will almost certainly have more thoughts about this when I go back to rewatch Love for Love’s Sake in the next couple weeks, but I’ve been thinking about the finale for the last couple of hours and I want to get some stuff out of my head. Before I get too far in to this, I want to say that I think most of the ambiguity in the show is brilliantly executed in a way that allows people to take whatever meaning they want to from it without contradicting each other, without stepping on toes, and without having to twist or bend the narrative beyond all recognition to  make it make sense. 

So I want to talk about the use of depression in this show, because the way Myungha exists in the world is recognizable enough to me that these moments of choice, and the system errors were extremely legible. That doesn’t mean my take is the correct one (and I honestly don’t think there is one right answer here anyway) but it’s what I got out of it, so with the needless ramble complete, let’s get to it. 

Prologue

gif by @dramascene

I connected rather quickly to Myungha as a character from right near the beginning of episode 1 because of how passionate he was about the character of Yeowoon and how much he hoped for a happy ending for that character. As someone who processes a lot of my feelings, and who understands myself better through media consumption, I was quick to appreciate the fact that Myungha recognizes the parts of himself that speak to Yeowoon and to know that because Yeowoon is fictional, he has a chance not to suffer with merely a stroke of a pen. The Author could have chosen from the beginning to give Yeowoon a happy ending, and did not because he believes that there are people for whom bad things will never stop happening. But from the perspective of a fictional story, the Author should consider who he is writing the story for. Myungha connects to Yeowoon, and it sends one hell of a tragic message for how Myungha’s life will end up if even in fiction the people who suffer have no hope of happiness. 

Myungha tells the Author that someone like Cha Yeowoon, someone like him [Myungha] with awful lives can still be happy. Looking back on that statement with the knowledge that Myungha kills himself, sends a very clear message, at least for me, of the hope that he was clinging to and finally lost his grip on. The Author asks if Myungha can change the outcome, and thus begins our story.

Debuffs

Now, I don’t know that I will have much more to say here than what @jemmo said in their very brilliant post, beyond the fact I agree with their interpretation of the debuffs. But I am thinking about the debuffs as it relates to mental health and to Myungha’s independence. One of Myungha’s first missions is to befriend Cha Yeowoon, and we see the difficulties associated with doing so when it comes to the Fondness Level meter and the debuffs that happen as a result. I love what Jess said about the dichotomy there: the debuffs mean that every time Myungha gets close to Yeowoon, something bad happens, Myungha uses that as a reason to stay away from Yeowoon to protect him when in fact, being around Myungha and increasing his fondness for him is the only way to really keep Yeowoon safe. 

gif by @dramascene

And here again there is something recognizable to me in this dichotomy. Myungha likes Yeowoon, Myungha wants to be friends with Yeowoon, every time something bad might happen to Yeowoon, Myungha is there to intervene. But Myungha is convinced that the potentially negative events that might occur during a debuff are because of him, and so he avoids Yeowoon as much as he possibly can. To me this makes the debuffs a stand in for depression symptoms. Myungha has convinced himself that he is the cause of the bad moments in Yeowoon’s day. Myungha has convinced himself that Yeowoon would be better off if they weren’t friends, because he only makes things worse. And that is not something he can easily shake off, it’s not something he can logic his way out of, that’s the game, that’s just how it is. And so he withdraws until Yeowoon comes to him. 

And honestly thinking about it, nothing bad really happens during those debuffs. The light doesn’t shatter, the boys back off on the bus, Yeowoon doesn’t punch Sangwon. Maybe the reason why nothing at all happens is because Myungha intervenes. Maybe if Myungha hadn’t been there, the light would have broken, maybe if Myungha hadn’t been there Yeowoon would have punched Sangwon. But that is not a lens that Myungha is capable of viewing himself through, that is never an option that crosses Myungha’s mind because he is too focused on feeling like the cause of Yeowoon’s problems. 

System Errors

I know there is a lot of confusion or at least uncertainty around the system errors. Why are they happening? Where are they coming from? For me, I think the answer is Myungha himself. The first time we get a system error, it’s in Episode 6, what I think is the day after Yeowoon and Myungha have their first kiss and very soon after Yeowoon and Myungha kiss on the rooftop at school. The first error isn’t subtle, but it’s not explicitly stated. Myungha walks in to a room to take a phone call and walks in to the middle of band practice, falling through the world as he tries to remove himself from the situation until he (literally) runs in to Yeowoon. Myungha goes home that night and gets his first moments in the black abyss, and the first explicit mention via pop-up of a system error. I have not gone through (yet) to track every instance of what happens before a system error pop-up occurs from that point on, but I will say moment that was most legible for me in terms of indicating that these system errors were stemming from Myungha himself were when he gets the notification both times that Yeowoon looks directly at him and tells Myungha “I love you.” 

gif by @dragonsareawesome123

That moment was a guy punch for me because I was not able to see it any other way except that Myungha is so incapable of believing that people could actually love him that someone telling him directly and sincerely that they love him cannot exist in his world. He literally cannot compute it, and thus an error occurs. Again from the perspective of depression, or trauma, or what have you, this is familiar to me. It is perhaps the most reflective part of Myungha to my own psyche. Neither of us know how to be loved. 

Myungha is called out on this repeatedly, he is nice to everyone, he does so much for everyone and refuses to ask for help himself. I’m the same way, I will bend over backwards as much as I can to help the people that I care about, but it is a rare occasion where I can ask for help myself. I’m not sure if this is the case for Myungha, but for me at least a lot of that stems from needing to make myself useful to people in some way so they keep me around. And so I end up feeling like a commodity to the people that I care about and help, and merely tolerated by anyone else that I do not help but that interacts with me any way. Myungha is called out consistently by multiple people, real or NPC about this similar habit. Myungha does not want to be a burden, Myungha only cares about other people’s happiness, Myungha is not happy himself and has maybe never been happy and so he pours everything he can in to lightening the load for others. 

He loves Yeowoon, but to be loved by Yeowoon is different. To experience any moments of joy cannot possibly be real. Maybe I am projecting too much on to the character, but it makes complete and total sense to me that Myungha’s worldview would break down upon having someone state wholeheartedly that they want to be a support system for him. 

Cruel Choices

gif by @dramascene

With the enmeshment of depression and video game mechanics in mind, I want to talk about the scene at the end of Episode 6. I love this scene so much for a number of reasons: 

It turns the game on a head for me as we slip further and further in to a nightmare scenario

It raises the stakes and attempts to get Myungha to make a hard choice 

It forces Myungha to think about what is important to him 

It’s ultimate purpose and who is posting the mission is ambiguous/uncertain 

I’m going to focus on number four. I think it is a perfectly valid read to see this and all video game mechanics as designed by The Author in an effort to help Myungha change Yeowoon’s story in which case this mission feels particularly vindictive and cruel. @lurkingshan posed the question in a conversation we were having about Love for Love’s Sake, where she wondered why the game could not hold two sources of love for Myungha at once. I love that question because it made me realize how differently this show can be read and how important who you choose to read as the entity in control of this game is for what this scene specifically means and I love so many interpretations of it, I love the interpretation that is was simply cruel, I love the interpretation that in retrospect this was the Author being angry at Myungha for dying, I love the reflection from @jemmo that said this felt like a choice between staying rooted in the past (sparing grandma) or choosing a future (sparing Yeowoon)

For me, I think I am leaning heavily in to the pop ups are under Myungha’s subconscious control, his mind, the missions he thinks are important, the problems he thinks he is causing are what is driving the base game. Because of this my base instinct is to lean in to the depression/anxiety/trauma tent where things have been going a little too well for him lately and he has convinced himself that he is due for something bad to happen. I am happy to once again acknowledge that this probably projection, but I know that my own mental illness(es) does not let my peace linger for long. Myungha is spending so much time with Yeowoon, Yeowoon who grounds him when his world is literally falling apart. Yeowoon who cannot contain his smile whenever he is around Myungha, Yeowoon who is downright desperate to bestow love and support upon Myungha, Yeowoon who has accompanied Myungha to the hospital late at night to be there for his boyfriend in a stressful time, and Myungha can’t have that. He loves his grandmother, he loves Yeowoon, they both love him and so obviously means that something bad is going to happen to them. 

gif by @25shadesoffebruary

[As an aside I am thinking about what the Author said in the final episode about wanting Myungha to be able to see himself from the outside, and how I took that to mean Yeowoon is supposed to be a reflection of Myungha and a journey to self love, and how Yeowoon told Myungha that something bad always happens to the people around him in relation to this hospital scene]

Secondarily, I do think being confronted with this choice at all allows Myungha to have a moment of reflection, and is clarifying for him to know that both Yeowoon and his grandmother are important people in his life that he doesn’t want to lose. That’s fucking huge, in my opinion at least. And for all this mission was cruel, it was the first time Myungha refused to complete the mission. He was asked to save one, he decided to save both, and the game could have been cruel and taken his grandmother and Yeowoon away for refusing to choose, but it didn’t. They both got to live, and sure Myungha’s mission to make Yeowoon happy was shortened significantly, but I do think fifteen days was enough time to be successful in his mission if the depression and the grief had not gotten to Myungha instead. 

Grief 

gif by @my-rose-tinted-glasses

Something about grief that my therapist told me once was grieving people love helping others. And I think that is the case of Myungha here just based on the way he throws himself in to helping as many people as he can, especially Yeowoon. He knows Yeowoon is grieving, he knows Yeowoon is struggling, and he can distract himself from his own shit by helping Yeowoon instead. But once Myungha is confronted with the possibility that either one of the people that he loves could die, the penality for failing in his mission to make Yeowoon happy looms over his head like a knife. Just like Myungha considered himself the problem with the debuff, he knows how high of a likelihood it is that Yeowoon would regress, would isolate, would sink into a massive low. 

And it would be Myung’s fault (in his mind). 

Especially because Yeowoon keeps saying that even thinking about going on dates with Myungha is making him happy but Myungha’s mission isn’t complete. Myungha has started to get low, he is not as engaged in his relationship with Yeowoon, he’s convinced himself he is going to fail, and is thus setting himself up for failure because he decides 15 days is not enough time to find happiness, but it is enough time to break somebody’s heart in preparation for a devastating loss. And maybe, maybe Myungha would have snapped out of it with enough time to spare initially, but any hope of that being the case was shattered the second Yeowoon admitted that he wasn’t happy because Myungha wasn’t relying on him. 

Myungha is so used to be self-reliant there is no way for him to break out of that habit in just two weeks. Myungha knew his death would hurt Yeowoon, but the final nail in the coffin for him was learning that his life was hurting Yeowoon too. And he almost got there, he almost did it, he admitted that he didn’t know how to, but he withdrew at the last second. He has spent all this time, all this energy, all this focus in to changing Yeowoon, he does not have the space to do that for himself. 

The Choice 

gif by @supanuts

The last moment I will really speak to as it relates to my interpretation of this game being controlled by Myungha as a manifestation of his depression is the author’s pen. Considering the fact The Author asked Myungha if he wanted to try again, I do not think if the Author was controlling this game world that he would have had Myungha disappear from it. Because according to the Gaga subs, the change that Myungha writes is that he wants Yeowoon to be happy, and immediately upon finishing that request, Myungha starts to fade. 

If we hold these game mechanics as manifestations of Myungha’s depression, which I do, it makes complete and total sense to me that Myungha would fall back in to the pattern of believing that Yeowoon would be happier if Myungha wasn’t there. Yeowoon has a modeling deal now, he has some modicum of fame, he has friends now, he has supports in place that he did not have before, so what need does Yeowoon have of him, when his inability to let people love him is what is now causing Yeowoon to feel sad. 

And I think that massive server error at the end where the world is burning and the universe is melting in to the game is a result of Myungha realizing too little, too late that this isn’t what he wanted. But it can’t be undone. The line he says when he is sinking in to the water about how at the last minute before he died, he regretted it. The game, the drowning here are one in the same to me. 

And for me there was just something so beautiful and hopeful from Myungha telling The Author that he wants to try again. We started the show with Myungha telling The Author miserable people can be happy, and we end the show with Myungha and Yeowoon finally getting the happy ending they never thought they would have. 

gif by @junghaesin

God I loved this show.

#love for love's sake #lfls #love for love's sake meta #love for love's sake analysis #one thing about this show is that it almost certainly will lend itself well to a rewatch! #and I *love* rewatching shows #wka long post

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Pandora was right, taking baths out in the wilderness was great! He could see the stars and point out the constellations as he scrubbed himself and practiced his singing where no one could hear him. This did not stop him from wearing swim trunks, so hess a litte paranoid. Sue him.

Pandora had been very clear about going deep into the wilderness where no one could hear him sing, because if they heard the siren song of a halfa and fled they would be haunted by it forever or until he himself tracked them down and sang a song strong enough to free them.

Ancients she knew him so well.

He had been minding his own business playing in the water with his multitude of floating duck candles, a purchase he begged Sam for when he was drugged out of his mind after a very devastating injury, and practicing one of the songs Pandora put on the "study list" called The Fairy King. If he didn't know any better he would think she was making fun of him.

He scrubbed his arm with a washcloth as he sung watching as the ducks floated around in the little super hero costumes Tucker had 3d printed for them. "Huh. It almost looks like they're dancing."

A light bulb went off in his head. He began practicing with his telekinesis as he sang, making the ducks dance together in little twists and twirls. He doesn't think he's ever had this much fun in a bath before honestly.

----

Red Robin and Nightwing were sneaking through the foliage looking for a supervillians secret base when they heard it. The sound of a full symphony playing live off in the distance. They nodded at eachother before heading in the direction the sound was coming from. They were almost on top of it when they heard the singing begin,

"When the house is still i can hear his song, beckoning me out into the ga-ar-den" the boys froze, this didn't sound anything like thier villain, they turned back to the noise edging closer, "his lullaby- promises sweet- escaaape"

Nothing could have prepared them for what they saw once they parted the underbrush, a glowing white haired teenager was standing in chest deep water, haloed by the moon behind, offering them an ethereal scene "He says, 'come my drifting flower i will hold you tight. Listen to the chime of stars and moo-oonlight-'"

The teen lifted up a floating ducky that was dressed like Red Robin in one hand and placed the other of his chest as he continued singing, "take my hand-and feel here- my heaart"

Red Robin turned beat red and Nightwing moved to give him a comforting pat on the shoulder only to have a twig snap underneath his boot. The guy whirled around and locked eyes with Nightwing for only a moment before screaming and falling backwards into the water. Bubbles rose to the surface of the pond only for a few seconds before they vanished all together.

It felt like a spell was broken and the two vigilantes just stood there for a second before nightwing jumped in to save a possibly drowning teen. No matter how hard he searched he couldn't find any proof that the guy was ever even there, save for the duck candles (?) that Red Robin had already finished collecting from around the pond.

RR didn't seem surprised that the guy had vanished and was examining the ducks. More specifically the bottoms. Dick went to see what was going on only for his younger brother to show him the bottom of the Nightwing duck.

There, in messy handwriting, was the ducks name: Duckwing

Dick laughed and started going through the ducks names, Quack-Hood, Bat-Bill, Red-Drake (which was kinda concerning and brought up the question of whether or not this guy knew any of thier identities) and funniest of all, a Robin one with a little plastic katana simply named Stabby.

----

Danny hid his face in his pillow after accidentally teleporting home. This was awful.

He waited until the heat in his face disappeared before taking a few deep breaths and thinking about how he was going to handle this. He obviously needed to track down the two Gotham vigilantes (what were they doing out there?) and break the spell on them before they become obsessed with him.

Then he remembered his ducks, "Aw man. What are the chances they didn't take my ducks?" Teleporting back to the pond after a full hour of being away showed a dark and duckless pond, much to his disappointment.

Now he added "recue the ducks" to his mental checklist.

Unbeknownst to him the vigilantes weren't the only ones to hear his song...

#fanfiction prompts #prompts #dp x dc #danny phantom #danny fenton #Nightwing #dick grayson #red robin #tim drake #duck candle #duck candles dressed as vigilantes #and heros #this song is so dramatic

[jxmis]

Second Choice

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: You're tired of always being the second choice... even in your own relationship you were the backup.

Warning(s): Angst with no happy ending

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: Inspired by the Little Women scene of Laurie and Amy but with my own twist <3

(gif not mine! credit to the owner!)

You knew what everyone thought of you. Oh poor Y/N, always the second choice. Her being the second choice in her family, her brother always being the first and favorite. Always being the second best in her class in the Academy. And even her boyfriend’s second choice. How pathetic of you. You know that. 

Of course, he’d rather be with the beautiful blue eyed dirty blonde haired woman. She’s not only beautiful, she’s smart, amazing at her job, a great friend, and everyone loves her. You on the other hand, you’re just… you. You will never compare to Jennifer Jareau.

It shocks you how Spencer Reid even noticed you at all. Sure, you work with him, but you never would’ve guessed that he'd ever want a romantic relationship with you. You’re not blind or naive, everyone practically knows how Reid is in-love with JJ. You witnessed it from the very beginning when JJ had joined the team as the media liaison. But they never really happened, to your surprise. 

You knew what you were getting yourself into when you agreed to go on a date with Spencer. That one date turned into two… three and eventually, he had asked you to be his girlfriend. You thought that maybe… just maybe he could love you the way he loves JJ. That he’d look at you the way he looks at her. You thought that you could help him move on. However, that wasn’t the case.

It’s been almost a year since you two have been together. It never even feels like you really had all of him. That's because… you never did. Unlike JJ, who always had all of him, she has his full respect, trust, and most of all… love. 

You can’t help but see looks of sympathy from others. Even they notice the way Spencer would sneak glances at JJ, how he looks at her, hugs her, how his smile would grow brighter and bigger because of her. You’re tired. Tired of competing for Spencer’s love. You should've known this was a battle you’d lose. Of course, you have no resentment towards JJ. She’s with Will, you know how much she loves her husband and Henry. You know her love for Spencer will always be platonic. The only one to blame is yourself. Though, you can’t help this burning anger towards Spencer. For- For leading you on, making you let him in when he couldn’t even do the same. Mainly, for making you fall for him. 

You’re sick of being the second choice. Today will be the last day and you vow to yourself that you’ll never let anyone make you feel that way again. You deserve better. This ends today. 

 ———

You had told Spencer earlier how you wanted to talk after this case. Well, the case was over, it was a tough case and as much as you’d like to be comforted by Spencer’s arms you know alcohol will be what will comfort you tonight instead. However, you all had landed almost 20 minutes ago and most are preparing to leave. Instead of Reid doing the same thing, he’s rather smiling and laughing with JJ. 

“Spencer, let’s go,” you called out. To no one’s surprise, you were ignored. You see JJ motioning for Spencer to go but resulting in the opposite. 

“Give me a sec! I’ll meet you at the car!” Spencer responds back. The urge you had to yell, but instead, you took a deep breath to calm yourself down. You put on a fake smile and indeed go down to the parking garages. Tears started to run down your face as you head to the car. Instead of waiting for Spencer, you drove off. 

Right as you had arrived in your shared apartment with Spencer which was originally his until he had suggested you move in with him. You had honestly thought this act of his meant he’s finally moving on, but it was another misleading act of his. 

You began to pack all your stuff as fast as you could wanting to leave this place as soon as possible. When you open the door to leave, you’re surprised to see the person about to knock. 

“Derek? W- What are you doing here?” You ask very confuse. 

He raises his eyebrows, “You goin somewhere?” You look down, your eyes becoming filled with tears dying to fall. 

“You got a place to stay tonight?” Your head snaps at his question. Your mouth opens and closes but couldn’t get a word out. “C’mon, you can stay with me till you find a place.” 

———

You and Morgan arrive at the BAU the next morning together. You both were bickering about the movie you two had watched last night. Watching a movie and drowning both yourselves with ice cream was a way Morgan hoped to make you feel better. It honestly did help along with him listening to you. There was not a single moment did you see or even feel judgment coming from him. He’s a great friend. You’ll miss him. No, you’re going to miss everyone. 

Unfortunately, your bickering and thoughts were interrupted by the one person you wanted to avoid. “Y/N!” Spencer calls out as he speeds to you. “W- What happened last night?! You- you left me! A- And all your stuff… they’re gone!” Spencer’s reaction genuinely shocked you. It actually seems like he cares.

You snap out of it and scoff, “I’m surprised you even noticed.” You walk past him and head to your desk. Now, all eyes are on you both, but they don’t forget to eye Morgan. All he does is put both his hands up, not giving them anything. 

“What’s going on with you, Y/N!” That was the tipping point for you. You turn to the brunette and drag him to Hotch’s office, closing the doors. You were so angry, you didn’t even think to close the blinds. 

The rest of the team couldn’t help but watch you both obviously having an argument. They’ve never seen you so angry… so full of rage. They’d be lying if they didn’t think it was bound to happen at some point, they’re profilers for god sakes! JJ is standing there and can’t help but feel guilty as she watches the scene. Morgan sensing this, he puts his hand on her shoulder and whispers, “Don’t go blaming yourself now, JJ. It’s not your fault.” 

“I’m tired, Spencer! I’m tired of us, I can’t do this anymore. We- we’re… We’re done.” Spencer stands there in shock whilst you head to the door so close to heading out. 

“That’s it? You’re just going to give up on us?” You couldn’t help the laugh that erupted from you. 

“Give up on us? Are you serious right now, Spencer?” You turn facing the clueless brunette. “I had done nothing but hold on for dear life!”

“Well, you breaking up with me with no explanation really shows you holding on to us, huh?” At this point, you didn’t have it in you to yell and fight anymore. He wants a reason, you’ll give him one. 

“I’ve always been the second choice in everything in my life. My family, past relationships, even the academy! You knew that… I told you.. Trusted you with that information. God, you even promised that you wouldn’t make me feel like that.” You sigh, “The problem is that you did, Spencer… you did.” 

The tone of your voice… so broken… so fragile breaks Spencer’s heart. The door being open, the team could now hear the conversation and it kills them to see you in such a state. “Y/N…” but before Spencer could say anything, you raise your hand up not wanting him to interrupt.

“I will not be the person you settle for just because you cannot have her. I won’t. I won’t do it.” Tears now escape your eyes much to your dismay. You didn’t want Spencer or the others seeing you cry. You start to back away, “I won’t- not when I’ve spent my entire life loving you.” With that, you leave Hotch’s office, sadly, only to be met by looks of pity from the rest of the team. 

You wipe your tears. You head to your desk grabbing your belongings and walk past all of them, not once daring to look them in the eye knowing what their facial reactions already look like. Even though you hear your name being called out by some of them, you continue your way not once ever looking back.

You thought you could stay at least the rest of the week to say your proper goodbyes to the team. You’ve been with most of them since the beginning. They were basically your family, it was only fair to have a proper farewell. But now, it’s too late for that, you can’t bring yourself to step foot in there anymore. Maybe someday, but for now, you’re okay with how things were left. You’re left with only sending them a letter as your goodbye. Your only hope is that they’d understand. You grabbed your stuff at Morgan’s and got everything in your car. You email Hotch your transfer request. You don’t know what’s next for you, but you couldn’t wait. This time, it’ll be different, it’ll be better.

#spencer reid #mathew gray gubler #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #derek morgan #jennifer jareau

[ravenna-reid]

Admirer from the past...

TW: blood, mention of dead bodies and stalking/obsessive behaviour

An expert crime fighter. One of the youngest CEOs. A skilled detective. As good as the Bat. Maybe even better than him.

Tim often found himself conversing with police officers and other detectives that were actually qualified unlike him. Discussing the crime scene, the criminal, the victim, and the next course of action. They all respected Tim and were willing to work together.

One night Tim found himself standing amongst the chaos of the press, the solemn faces of detectives and officers and a name written in blood covering the footpath along with other gory things... The crimson letters painting the cement were a confronting display.

It was the works of a new villain, one that had only just started doing such things two weeks ago. He was one of the most psychotic men Tim had ever dealt with. And it seemed he had a nasty obsession with some poor girl, given he was constantly leaving dead bodies and flowers strewn across Gotham City dedicated to her.

Honestly, the situation twisted Tim's stomach, making him all the more adamant on finding this fucked up guy in hopes of sparing his target the fear and trauma.

Tim kept to himself as he tried to analyse the scene, picking up clues and taking his own samples. That was until the screech of tires on the road caught his attention. Turning to look over his shoulder, he saw another well known detective pull up beside the crime scene and hastily get out of his car. And with him a woman. Tim quickly let his eyes glance over you. You wore a fitted suit, golden hoops and your hair thrown up into a french twist. Throwing your trench coat over your shoulders, you hurriedly followed the detective with an unimpressed look on your face.

"If you haven't even caught the assailant yet, why am I here Harry?" You asked before you fell into step with your co-worker and friend. He was almost like an older brother to you.

"Because, I need your input. Your analysis. This guy is a fucking nut and we have no idea how to predict what he's gonna do next."

Intelligence and class seemed to drip off of you, and Tim was immediately smitten interested in you. He even found himself wondering if you were seeing the man you had arrived with.

Surely not, he was old enough to be your father.

You and Harry ducked under the police tape, your hands in your pockets and eyes trained on the gruesome scene. Black roses coated in thick blood decorated the ground around your boots. You instantly grimaced.

Harry made his way over to the group and greeted Tim first.

"Red Robin." He said with a nod.

"Detective." Tim said back, eyes still trained on you.

You turned in a circle to take it all in before nearing the group. "So, do we have anything on this guy?"

"Red Robin managed to hack into one of the shops security systems. The one across the street. With the footage he retrieved, we can see this sick bastard commit the crime, but his face is obscured."

You were watching Red Robin as the officer spoke, a little taken aback to see a vigilante standing in front of you. Let alone one of the bats.

"Can I see the footage?" You asked, eyes gazing back at his.

Tim swallowed hard. Your eye contact was unwavering, and he could feel a blush begin to creep onto his face.

"Miss, are you even a detective or-"

"Of course." Tim cut the officer off, handing you the tablet that sat atop a police car.

"It's fine," Harry said with the wave of his hand, "She's with me. She knows what she's doing."

Tim watched you analyse the footage. The man was wearing a cap, and some sort of odd make-up was smeared across his face. It might have even be blood you thought. You attentively watched the criminals behaviour. His mannerisms. The odd tick in his left shoulder. The limp in his right leg.

"Anything?" Tim asked.

His voice was like wine and you couldn't help but breathe in his cologne. You might come along to see these crime scenes more often.

"There's something." You admit with the furrow of your brows. "The way he moves. I can't put my finger on it though..."

Tim observed the badge clipped to the collar of your shirt. Although he could read what your occupation was, your coat was covering your name.

"Forensic psychologist?"

What a stupid moment to be making small talk. He began to chastise himself and his lack of charisma, but you didn't seem to mind, much to his relief.

"Mhm. Know what that is?" You teased, anticipating the Red Robin's response.

Tim smirked. "No actually, never heard of it."

You gave a light laugh and Tim felt he had to keep the conversation going.

"Are you new at this?" He asked. "I haven't seen you before."

"Not really," you replied with a soft smile. "It's my second year."

"Yeah, and she beats everyone in the game." Harry called out with a chuckle. You tried to hide your blush, but your humility mixed with your attempt to hide your reaction made Tim like you even more.

But the longer you watched the footage it suddenly dawned on you. The puzzles snapped together in your head and left you a little shocked. Tim immediately took note of the change in your demeanour.

"What is it?"

You held onto the tablet tightly. "I think I know who this is. The twitch. The limp. The hunched form and what he's doing..."

"Holy shit..." Harry said as the others all gawked at the writing on the ground.

Tim ignored them, focusing his full attention onto you.

"Back when I was just a psychologist. This guy came to me, I'm sure of it." You looked back up at Tim now, but before either of you could say anything, Harry called your name.

"You better get over here."

You and Red Robin joined the group, and as you looked down at the name on the footpath, your soul immediately dropped down to your feet.

"What's wrong?" Tim asked, looking up at Harry then at you. But now that you had moved, the name on your badge was revealed to Tim.

Everyone suddenly turned to look at you. And all you could do was stare down at the red letters before you.

"That's my name."

#tim drake imagine #tim drake fanfiction #tim drake robin #tim drake x reader #timothy drake #red robin x reader #red robin #dca fandom #dcu #dc comics #dc universe #angst #tim drake angst

[mentalmeles]

Okay, but like... I haven't seen anyone else talk about it, but I NEED to talk about this, so excuse my ranting!

Hunter and Philip's reunion was horrible and terrifying and I hated it, but also LOVED it. For one thing, we finally got a Wittebro name reveal and confirmation that Flapjack was his palisman!!

But the thing I really want to talk about right now is Hunter.

As Philip makes one last ditch attempt to gain control over Hunter again, the poor kid is terrified.

Then, after the Collector Splats(tm) Philip, he is completely mortified over what he just saw. Because while it is true that Philip has done nothing but abuse and manipulate Hunter all his life, he was still the one that raised him. He was still the one that Hunter loved, praised, and believed in for all those years. He was still family, in some sick, twisted way.

And then, when all the kids are running toward the Portal, Hunter is the only one to hesitate. Because making it to the Portal means stepping over what (he believes to be) Philip's deceased remains. After everything that Philip has done to him, the other Golden Guards, and even his own brother--the one Hunter was made after-- he can't bring himself to disrespect Philip's remains in such a way.

It's only after Gus and Willow stop and urge him on does he begin to move again.

And even still, he has his eyes tightly shut, as if refusing to look down.

I don't really have the words to describe how this all makes me feel, but damn... It just really speaks volumes about how much of a better person Hunter--and by extension Caleb-- is than Philip. How much kinder, considerate, and caring they both are. It honestly breaks my heart.

#the owl house #the owl house spoilers #king's tide #hunter #hunter wittebane #hunter clawthorne #the golden guard #wittebro #wittebros #wittebane brothers #caleb wittebane #philip wittebane #emperor belos #the star child speaks #long post #kinda #abuse #child abuse #body horror

[nardo-headcanons]

About Shisui Uchiha

just some shower thoughts i had about him. this is very headcanon heavy and rather vague at times.

tw for talks about suicide, manipulation, trauma, abuse, etc

tagging: @uchihaharlot @pxssy-stuntin-for-itxchi @lalalover33-blog @burning-bubble @naruto-scribblings-j

Unlike Itachi, who was born during the last year of the great Shinobi war, it is safe to say that Shisui was born while it was still going on. So naturally, he was exposed to the worst side humanity had to offer, most likely traumatizing him in the process.

His mother is never mentioned, so I assume she must have died during his birth or in his early childhood. His father, most likely ravaged by illness before he even entered the battlefield, lost his left leg, leaving him with phantom pains and high medical bills. As a born shinobi, Shisui’s father lacked the funds and education to pursue any other path of career, leaving his child as the only breadwinner of his family. Shisui probably had to spend his entire childhood and youth slaving away just to keep his father and himself afloat. Additionally, he took care of a terminally i’ll man who didn’t even remember his son’s name. Of course, this would lead to Shisui being very perceptive of the psychology of the ones around him, how else could he search for a sign of his father’s state health changing?

Shisui often spent time wondering what it’s like to have a family, a family in which he is allowed to be what he is: a child. Someone who is cared for, someone who is looked after. Despite being an Uchiha, his relation to Kagami Uchiha - the Uchiha allied with Tobirama, the very person planting the seed for all the discrimination the Uchiha would face, up to a point of their genocide, would probably lead him to feel ostracized within his own clan. And like everyone of us, he is trying to find the balance between individuality and belonging - the latter being the one he lacked. His abilities as an Uchiha become a defining factor of identity for him, leading to him being willing to let a comrade via withholding aid - just on the basis of that comrade potentially being stronger than him. Once his comrade dies, the young Uchiha is ravaged by feelings of guilt, by the awareness that the blood of his friend is on his hand.

But nevertheless, he is blessed with a new Uchiha ability - the mangekyou sharingan. His entire life he had to enter a role he didn’t want to be in, robbing him of memories he could have had. So what better mangekyou ability to have than the one that alters memories, and, in extension, alters your role in the world?

Shisui’s resentment against his Uchiha identity starts bubbling up inside him again, and being a shinobi who frequents B- or even A-Rank missions as a literal teenager (how else would you pay for your father’s medical debt as a shinobi, eh?) he was closer to the village from the start. Hailed as the strong and talented Uchiha boy, taking on missions to serve his village, behind the facade a broken kid forced to grow up way too quickly. His first serious doubts begin when he is forced to kill Mukai Kohinata, a direct reflection of Shisui, just the other way around: a father wanting nothing but funds to care for his dying child.

Things don’t get better when the tension between the village and the Uchiha rise. His own brethren or the collective - who will you support? Getting into Shisui’s mind and twisting his perception of what’s right is an easy game for Danzo, almost too easy. A civil war breaking out in Konoha would be a repetition of his initial trauma - the one thing Shisui wants to prevent the most. Shisui starts feeling conflicted, until he finally stumbles upon THE miracle solution: forcefully keeping up the status quo by manipulating the leader of the revolution - an unpleasant reality, but better than the Uchiha clan’s extermination or a civil war breaking out, right? To Shisui, atleast. And honestly, who could blame him? As a ninja who graduated young, I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that he lacks the methodical and critical thinking outside of the parameters of violence and manipulation he is used to from Danzo and the shinobi world.

And then it happens. He agrees to suppress the revolution of his own ethnic group just for the sake of keeping up a false sense of peace, and suddenly, his co conspirators, the man that is supposed to be guarding him, leading him, suddenly abandons him and steals his eye? Shisui’s entire identity as the Uchiha boy from Konoha collapses and he doesn’t know what to think or believe anymore. In his last moments, he becomes aware of the utter pointlessness of the killing and the brutality of the shinobi system, the sheer feeling of powerless overwhelming him. At this point, death seems like a sweeter option than continuing to live powerlessly in such a system.

Shisui is a skilled ninja, but not always in contact with his emotions. Therapy is a rarity in the leaf, with even the counselors themselves not being able to give advise outside of the parameters of what’s “acceptable” in the hidden leaf.

So, what better way to hide your agony than behind a -albeit manufactured- goofy smile?

#naruto #naruto shippuden #naruto headcanons #naruto scenarios #naruto imagines #naruto fanfiction #shisui #shisui headcanons #shisui uchiha #anti shinobi system #anti hiruzen #anti danzo #anti tobirama #anti will of fire #anti konoha #naruto meta

[fatuismooches]

Been thinking about childhood friend Pantalone and reader, but with kind of a twist. You two are of course the greatest of friends, doing everything together as you've been through thick and thin, the (mostly) bad and (minimal) good times together. And your "friendly" activities also include kissing and holding each other as just "friends." Just hear me out. As you grew older and reached adulthood it was no question that you found your childhood friend quite attractive and those feelings of friendship were slowly budding into ones of love, but there was no way you were going to risk years of friendship over your dumb crush. You were content with the way things were now. Until one day changed everything.

It was honestly just a normal day of dealing with shit in order to get by in the world but you just felt so stressed and done with everything and needed to rant to your friend about everything and anything. And you did, and it probably got more heated than usual but oh well. He didn't respond, and you weren't really expecting one, you were just grateful that he was willing to listen to your ramblings. What you weren't expecting, however, was for him to randomly cup your cheek, the intimate touch surprising you greatly. You were about to question him until he kissed you. Your childhood friend was kissing you, on the lips no less.

It took you a good few seconds to comprehend what was happening but slowly you kissed back. Your friend had to be a natural at kissing, because it felt so pleasurable just to have his lips on yours. When you two pulled away, he asked you if you liked it. You did. He asked you if you felt better. You definitely did. He asked if he could do it again. You let him. And thus began the series of shared touches between you two. Whenever either of you were stressed or down, you two would provide physical affection to each other. Whether that was simple or passionate kisses or comforting all over the other's body. All under the label of "friends." Yes, just friends. Neither of you would speak or bring up the topic during these intimate times.

And you? You were greedy. Greedy, greedy, greedy. You decided that even if he didn't like you like that, you were happy to be touched by him and to touch him. At least, that's what you told yourself in the beginning. Yes, it did feel terribly nice, but it was also beginning to hurt you terribly bad as your feelings of love for your friend were skyrocketing at every passing moment, especially when he held you. Eventually, you couldn't take it anymore and you had to confess.

You blurted out his real name, following with an "I lo-" before your friend's hand quickly covered your mouth, preventing you from finishing your sentence.

"Not now, [Name]."

"Huh...? So you know already? About how I..." your voice died down as heat crept up your face. This was so embarrassing.

"Yes, I do. But I cannot respond to your feelings right now." Those words crushed your heart.

"Oh... I understand. So you don't..." Your friend sighed before he stroked your cheek, beckoning you to look at him again.

"I don't mean it like that. I mean I am not worthy enough to accept your love right now."

"Worthy? But you are! You're so kind and smart and sweet and- just all-around great! How can you not be worthy!" Your friend chuckled in response.

"I'm flattered you feel that way. But I'm afraid I'm nowhere as good of a person as you believe. In fact, although I know I can't have you right now, I'm greedy enough to want to have your affection all to myself." You could only murmur his name on your lips.

"So I ask you, please wait for me so I can become the man you deserve. Will you do that for me, [Name]?" Instead of responding, you pulled him in for an emotional kiss that spoke your answer instead.

It would have to do for now.

#smooches talks #pantalone love notes <3 #this was longer than what i meant to write... #ive been neglecting pantalone im so sorry #see u in two years pookie <33 #i need to know his real name so badly bro #pantalone x reader

[hotchfiles]

passenger seat.

pairing: seth cohen x fem!reader.

summary: you try so hard to help your best friend seth recover from his broken heart you forget about yours

content warnings: underage drinking, mentions of sex and drunk sex. the timeline is like... beginning of season 2, when seth comes back and finds out summer is dating zach. yes i'm gonna work on a part 2 i'm not that mean.

word count: 1,8k

summer summer summer summer, it's honestly annoying how seth can not seem to be able to talk about anything else anymore. and sure it has been like that since you were children, but since he was able to catch a glimpse of what dating her would be like and then lost it, well, he was down right impossible to be around.

"cohen, you're getting out of this bed right now, and you're getting some good music in your brain." you pull the cozy blankets from him with full strength while he tried to fight for it.

"first of all, my brain is always full of good music. and second of all, my summer is gone, my sun, all i have right now is the cold of winter and the solitude of being single, leave me in the warmth of my bed, please." you rolled your eyes and actually felt like you could reach enough to see your brain, his antics were usually amusing but summer summer summer, you almost felt like warming up his face with a punch, but instead you took a deep breath, let go of the blankets and got closer to him, taking advantage of the element of surprise and pushing him out of his bed.

"i have concert tickets, whiny baby, and suuummeeer won't get back to you ever if you look that lame." that sparks his interest, you can see, and you're left to pretend it doesn't sting just a tiny bit, what matters is that he gets up and gathers some nice clothes before heading to his shower.

"you're mean today, stop hanging out with ryan." he yells from a distance, probably hoping it won't give you enough time for a snarky comeback. obviously, he was wrong about that assumption, you both grew up together, you could almost predict what he would say already, you were always with a reply on the back of your mind.

"we're taking turns so you stop being an ugly crying whiny mess."

"oh... that's why we took a cab." you stare back at him hoping he won't open his big mouth as the bartender serves the several, several shots of tequila you ordered using the not so good fake i.d you handed him. although orange county wasn't the best at keeping minors away from alcohol (beachy city full of rich kids) you still didn't want your plans to be ruined at the very beginning of the night.

"seth, i'm getting you hammered so you feel better for a night, and i don't hate you for a night." he seems concerned for a second, but knows you well enough not to argue, just as much as he can be annoying with his longass monologues, so can you, and you're not afraid to use violence if needed, misogyny needs to come in handy somehow, and not having your best friend fight you back has got to be it.

you slide his half of the shots towards him and start quickly gulping yours, only half way in reality sets that maybe, maybe, that was not your best idea. but by then seth was also doing his own shots and laughing as the tequila burnt his throat, his nose and lips twisting around each time. you hear screams and realize the band is probably beginning the set, so you get your beer and give one to seth, and he makes a comment about how you weren't kidding about getting him hammered, but you almost can't hear him as you pull him by the shirt running so you both can get a reasonably good spot.

cohen was a death cab for cutie fan, you knew it, everyone knew it, and if there were any concerts, meetings, or if you had their addressees, you would've chosen them for tonight, but coldplay was all you could get last minute to get your curly haired boy out of his fortress of solitude at least for one night.

you both enjoyed some indie rock music so the concert was fun from the start, especially with the alcohol that went straight to your brain as company to the songs that made your body move ever so slightly. seth obviously didn't dance, he made it quite the point not to, "this is music to enjoy, not to dance, don't disgrace us like that" he says in between laughter and hiccups, giving his beer a tiny sip only because honestly he can not stand the smell of alcohol anymore.

"stop being such a looooser, dance with me!" you took the bottle from his hand and threw it along with yours on the nearest bin, leading his hands to your waist. this isn't weird. you don't think it's weird, but weirdly, seth doesn't think it's weird either. you're more than thirty minutes into the concert and it's not a slow song at all, don't panic roars from the stage and from the audience, you both try to keep up to the rhythm, guiding him to twirl you around and showing him a two step easy peasy dance to follow.

seth almost falls down, you both laugh uncontrollably, he's way too drunk for this, you're way too drunk for this, his hands go back comfortably to your waist, as if it was a rooted reaction already, you felt your stomach turn as the music notes changed and you knew what song was coming. you looked up and seth was already looking at you, his beautiful brown eyes staring at yours like he had just discovered something new.

he wanted to kiss you, he really did, was that weird? was that bad? maybe he was too much in his head, and maybe he was too drunk, but he was single and you looked at him like that and you were oh so beautiful and trying so hard to make him smile and maybe he shouldn't because he was still hooked on summer—but was he really? the more he looks at you, and the more you don't look away, the more he thinks that maybe this is just how things are supposed to be.

and he didn't even notice what song was playing, too busy paying attention to your breathing, only when your drunken self decided that for some reason this was the time to confess, if anything, you could just play it off as if you were just singing along to shiver "you know how much i need you, but you never even see me." and before you can hide your eyes and glue them to your feet, seth pulls you by your neck for a sloppy drunken kiss, your hands grab his shirt but you waste no time and kiss him back.

both of you couldn't even wait for the concert to end, leaving and getting into the nearest cab you could find as soon as you can let go of each other for air. his address at the tip of your tongue not mattering how drunk you were.

you get into the mansion tripping around as you try to kiss each other, not make a sound that could wake his parents, and also find his room, and when you do you almost fall on your ass due to his goddamn skateboard being right in front of his bed, you end up laughing out loud, but seth closes the door before anyone can hear it.

"i'm starting to think your parents won't like me sleeping over." guilt starts creeping in and you're not even sure why, like you're doing something bad, something that won't be approved of, your best friend looks at you with a warm gentle smile, pulling you to him by your hand and having you sit on his lap as he's on the edge of his bed, both of your legs on each of his sides, your arms go to his neck.

"my parents love you, they probably love you more than they love me. ryan loves you more than he loves me." an overreaction, that's what that is, and you know it, very dramatic that boy, but it gets you giggling and you lean in for a tender, long kiss. but a question pops your mind and you stop it, you're not sure if it's the time to ask it, you might be ruining your only chance to have seth.

but you have to.

"i know that. the real question is... do you?" your teeth nervously gnaw on your bottom lip, and seth knows he loves you, he would never hesitate on that, so it's easy for him to get you close and touch your forehead with his, even if he doesn't know right now if it's the love you're looking for, he knows right now he wants to be with you, so it must be right.

"of course, dumbo." you roll your eyes and push him till his back hits his bed, continuing what you two had started and leaving sloppy kisses to his neck as your hands found themselves under his shirt, your hips purposely taking advantage of your position and grinding slowly down his crotch, you imagined it would be easy to get seth moaning but you didn't think it would be that easy. you loved it.

you were both horny drunk teens, it took minutes for your clothes to be on the ground and for seth to be inside of you, your legs surrounding his waist and your fingers pulling on his hair. and it isn't weird, it's familiar, it's hot, it's sensual without the need to pretend to be anything else. it's the best you've ever had simply by how connected you feel to seth.

you sleep into his arms, feeling his scent and you're afraid this is a dream you're soon to wake up from.

you do panic when you wake up at 5am, not feeling like facing the rest of the cohens after what you did to their precious son, seth was still sleeping like a beautiful baby and you wouldn't wake him up, you hoped he wouldn't be mad at you for leaving without saying goodbye, but you brush your lips against his before sneaking out and you feel like the world is about three times brighter.

that is, until 8am. you took a nap in your own bed to at least pretend you were home during the night, and woke up to seth's texts after he woke up.

cohen: i rmbr coldplay cohen: i rmbr tequila cohen: nd i rmbr laughing a lot cohen: so even tho i might die of a hangover, thx cohen: might txt summer yellow lyrics dont stop me

the lightweight bastard had forgotten everything, everything that made your night special. and went right back to summer talking, maybe you should've just punched him the first time you thought about it.

#the oc fanfiction #the oc fics #the o.c. fics #seth cohen x reader #seth cohen x you #seth cohen x y/n #at this point im just a nerd collector

[echo-rambles]

use my body against me

summary: when a drunk text to your ex gets answered in a way you never expected, it leads to falling right back into old habits. tags: past established relationship, ex-boyfriend chan, suggestive content but nothing explicit, mention of recreational alcohol use, swearing. notes: title from the way you miss me by all time low. mostly a rewrite of my very first reader insert fic, because I loved the concept but I wasn't a fan of my own writing, and I think I've vastly improved since. I might write a continuation, but no promises.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

The situation you currently find yourself in is truly one of your own making. There’s really no one else to blame, no matter how much you would love to point the finger at literally anyone besides yourself. 

There’s a text message from Bang Christopher Chan sitting there, on your phone. Staring up at you almost accusatory and chilling you to the bone. 

-Good morning, I hope you’re drinking water to combat all of that vodka you consumed last night! hahaha 

At first, the text means nothing to you. It leaves you in a state of mild confusion only exacerbated by your incredible hangover. How would he know you drank your weight in liquor? The only answer you can even try to think up isn’t a good one. Feeling brave and a little nauseous, you decide to scroll up, farther into this conversation between you and your ex.

The confusion melts away into horror as you locate the beginning of this conversation. One glance at the selfie you sent has the memory coming back to you, causing your headache to flare. Oh no.

It was late last night, and you had already drank one too many shots of whatever fruity flavored vodka was available. Shut away in Felix’s bathroom, the light overhead far too harsh and fluorescent, pulling your shirt down enough to show off your cleavage. Snapping a picture in the mirror above the sink, leaning into the counter and trying your best to look some approximation of sexy. 

Fumbling fingers sent it to Chan. The first text between the two of you in months. 

Looking at the selfie now has your stomach twisting into knots. Oh no. The texts that followed aren’t any better. Actually, they somehow make the entire situation worse. 

-the fact that i wore this shirt hoping you’d be at this party only to learn you went home EARLY?

-i wasted such an amazing outfit and for nothing

-i bet you looked good too. bastard

-sometimes i can’t tell if i miss you or just the weight of you on top of me 

-i miss how good you were -i know fora fact i miss your mouth -i miss your mouth on MY MOUTH -omg i miss my mouth on your

You swipe away from those messages. Knowing for a fact you’ll have to read them eventually, to get a proper understanding of the things you said to him. But not right now. Right now you continue to scroll, your texts devolving into a mix of incomprehensible emojis and bitching at Chan about things he very obviously can’t control. You were a mess, holy shit. Who even let you text? Why wasn’t your phone confiscated the moment vodka hit your lips?

The only things that Chan has replied with since your terrible wall of drunk texts is an initial Oh wow lol, and his aforementioned good morning text.

It could be worse, right? He could’ve blocked you or typed out an excruciatingly long lecture about drinking responsibly. It honestly could’ve been so much worse. 

Crawling your way out of bed, still vaguely nauseous and trying to fight the urge to lay face down on the floor and never get up again, you shuffle your way into the bathroom. First thing’s first before you tackle whatever the fuck is on your phone, you decide to wash up to feel human again.

The world can fall apart around you for all you care. All you want is a shower and some toothpaste. 

Wrapped in a towel and your toothbrush sticking out of your mouth, you finally decide to reply. You probably shouldn’t, especially now that you’re sober and know better, but you have to apologize. That feels like the polite thing to do. 

Well, the only way to begin is by beginning. 

-lol hey good afternoon 

-I ended up demolishing an entire water bottle when I got home last night but sadly it wasn’t enough to save me

How do you even apologize for last night? Sorry I was so angry and horny and I made it your problem? Sorry that the first time I've texted you since we broke up was a drunk thirst trap? So sorry, and hey by the way how have you been since we had the messiest breakup because you’re bad at prioritizing and I’m bad at communication? 

Yeah, definitely none of that. 

You’re still standing there in your bathroom, staring into the mirror and brushing your teeth on autopilot as your mind spins into itself, when your phone lights up. One notification followed swiftly by a second, making your phone buzz on the counter. 

Chan’s contact stares back at you, both messages fading off into ellipses. 

-Ah, RIP. You should’ve drank three…

-Hey, I know this is last minute, but I was wondering if we could…

Oh, you don’t think this is the sort of message you can read by yourself while still combating the aching nausea of a hangover. Absolutely not, whatever he has to say can be answered once you have a sufficient amount of caffeine and the right company. 

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

“I need a second opinion.” It’s the first thing you say, after sitting down across from Felix and shoving your phone at him. Showing off the string of text messages you experienced after waking up. You still haven’t read the newest text. 

Felix barely even moves his head from where it’s resting against the table. He’s clearly just as hungover as you are, but you feel like you’re in the middle of making a very bad decision and you need a second opinion. You shimmy your phone under the seam where his forehead meets the wood. 

With a little pout and deep groan, he’s shifting around and unlocking your phone. The silence stretches on as he swipes through the text thread and stares, blinks, and blinks some more. With a start, he’s sitting up straight, pulling the phone closer. 

“Wait, he wants to meet up with you?”

“He wants to what?” You snatch the phone from his hands, finally reading the text yourself. 

-Hey, I know this is last minute, but I was wondering if we could maybe grab lunch? Or, if you’re still too hungover for lunch, maybe something later?

Just the idea of seeing him again has something hot and electric buzzing through your veins. Your immediate instinct is to say yes. You want to say yes so badly, yes a thousand times over. Instead you very deliberately place your phone onto the table. 

Felix has slumped back into his seat, eyeing you warily. “I thought you weren’t talking to him?”

“I mean- I wasn’t. But now I am, kind of? It’s not that big of a deal-” 

“It felt like you two went through a divorce, I don’t know if I’d say it’s ‘not a big deal’-”

“I’m over it!” You proclaim, a little loudly. A little desperately. “And he is too if he’s talking to me.” 

All you get in response is Felix’s eyebrows pitching inwards and his mouth molding into a little frown. The type of frown that is trying very hard to not be a frown. He’s giving you the most pitying look you’ve probably ever seen on his angelic face. 

You should say no. Scoop up your phone and tell him that you can’t make it. Conjure up some far flung excuse so that you won’t reopen old wounds. But you want to see him again, desperately. 

You tap your fingers along the edge of the table. “Is this a bad idea?” 

“Do you want my truthful answer?” Felix replies from the depths of his hoodie. Your phone sits between you, dark screen facing the ceiling. 

You think for a moment. “Yes.”

“Yes.”

“Oh, fuck you.” 

The thing is, you know he has a point. It doesn’t feel very good but it’s true. Sure, you and Chan can be amicable over text, but that’s over text. Who knows what will happen if you’re face to face. Would it be awkward and stilted? Or maybe everything you say to each other will be filled with vitriolic anger. Things didn’t exactly end on the best terms, and that might just leak into an otherwise pleasant meeting. 

But you are nothing if not a professional at both denial and deflections, so you push all of those thoughts very far away. 

Maybe this could be a new start. Maybe you and Chan could be the incredibly rare type of people who are friends with their ex. You’d like that, actually, to have Chan back in your life beyond some tertiary character you hear about from other people. Texting him reminded you how much you actually miss your best friend. 

Snatching your phone up, you just barely restrain yourself from checking to see if you somehow managed to miss any new messages. 

“It’s a friend thing! Friend’s hang out all the time. We're going to go get coffee or something equally platonic and we're going to ignore all of the drunk texts I sent him!” Your voice raises in pitch towards the end, and it sounds like you're trying to convince yourself more than anything else.

Felix gives you a very unimpressed look. “You told him that you miss the feel of his-”

“I know what I said!"

"In your mouth-"

"Thank you!”

Those texts are burned into your brain, you're well aware of the things you sent Chan. How they got more detailed the more you sent. Just remembering some of them has you flushing.

“I mean," Felix hums, oblivious to the direction your thoughts are taking. "I guess it could be a thing friends do.” There's too much sarcasm in his words for your liking.

“As if you haven’t said something similar to any of your friends.”

One of his eyebrows arch, and the gesture is so very pointed. “Any friend that I’ve gotten on my knees for was never at any point an extremely complicated ex.”

"Shut the fuck up." He's right and you hate it.

But still. You want to see Chan so badly. Finally you give in to the all consuming urge to reply. Opening up Chan’s contact, your fingers work quickly. 

-I mean, if you’re paying…

-Of course I’ll pay haha 

-then count me in!

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone cave so quickly.” Felix sighs, but there’s something all tangled into his words. Some emotion you can’t really identify right now. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say it sounds hopeful. 

“Seriously, shut up.” 

“You came here asking for my opinion!” 

“Well!” You huff, trying not to glance at the little typing bubble that appears under your fingers. Signaling that Chan is in the middle of replying to you. He wants to continue your stupid little conversation. Your heart does a funny little wiggle at the sight. “I’ll take what you said into consideration, I guess.”

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Felix was probably right, and that was such a complicated thought to have while Chan’s hand was currently palming you through your shirt. 

See, it really had started out with grabbing coffee together. Something extremely casual with no pressure, the conversation just a little awkward at the start. Both of you trying to remember how to be civil towards each other, how to smile and laugh at jokes. It came a lot easier to Chan, as always. But you missed this. You missed being in the same space as him and hearing his voice and fucking hell, Felix was right; you’re so incredibly weak. 

You tried so hard to keep things on track, really you did. The possibility of being friends was right there, laid out in front of you. But then Chan smiled- that small little smile where he ducks his head and bites at his lip and looks up at you from under those fucking eyelashes of his, and oh. You were gone.

He makes it almost disgustingly easy to be around him. It makes your head buzz. 

Somehow the touch of your fingers against the inside of his wrist lead you to his apartment. Where he pins you to the wall and kisses you so deeply you can feel it in your toes. You almost forgot what it felt like when Chan put his full strength into holding you in place. It’s heady. 

He still tastes the same. Somehow, in the midst of his hands gripping and tugging you closer, pressing your hips flush together, that’s the thought that floats its way to the forefront. Chan tastes the same, even after all this time where you never got to taste him. He feels the same too, a little wider, mostly in his shoulders, but still familiar. He makes the same little noise in the back of his throat when you run your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. 

It’s all so familiar and you could choke on it. 

You should probably talk about this. The making out, yes, absolutely, but also the last few months and the texts and him asking to see you out of the blue. It should be talked about, right? Except what would you even say? You’ll just rehash the same things you’ve been saying. You felt ignored and he felt suffocated and you could never find a way to meet in the middle because you’re both stubborn. 

You should say something though, right? Right? 

The press of his hand against the dip of your waist, pulling you closer, has you losing any semblance of what language even is. Words? Who needs them? He’s hooking his other hand behind your knee and hiking it up, guiding you to wrap your leg around him, and really all you can think about is how you aren’t close enough.

You sneak your fingers up under the hem of his shirt, feeling the expanse of his skin, and the sound of the breathiest gasp leaving his lips settles along the curve of your spine. 

This doesn’t feel like a particularly good idea, but then he’s grinding against you, fingers digging into the meat of your thigh, and it doesn’t really matter all that much. 

“Is this a terrible idea?” He asks, practically breathing the words directly into your mouth, and you find it a little funny. Not only are you both having the same sort of thought, but it feels incredibly belated. 

“Honestly Chris? I don’t really give a fuck.” 

That gets him to laugh. Just the quietest little giggle into the skin of your jaw. His hand moves, until he’s grabbing at your ass and angling your hips higher, and it’s really such an inspired thing. The feeling of him, hard through his denim, pressing into you has a moan tripping out of you. 

You definitely need to talk about this. 

Chan keeps touching you, kissing you, undressing you. Little by little, constantly asking 'is this ok? Yeah? We can stop whenever you want-' because he's still a gentleman. You haven't been this close to him in months, but he's still so fucking considerate. It'd be more maddening if it wasn't so familiar. If anything it’s reassuring, filling you with a stupid amount of confidence. You know how to deal with this. 

You repeat yes over and over, hands at his shoulders and licking the word into his mouth, no matter how much he asks. 

He peels your shirt away, careful with the fabric, mouth already trailing down your neck, your chest, landing on the swell of your cleavage. Hands so wide, palms easily fitting to your bare waist.

"Just tell me to stop, and I will-"

Finally you snap. Like a live wire pulled too taut, reaching out to grab at his face. Pressing your fingers into the hollows of his cheeks, his chin resting in the curve of your palm. "Christopher, I'm so horny I feel like I might cry. So while I really appreciate what you're trying to do- if you don't rail me stupid in the next five minutes, I can't be held accountable for my actions."

"Oh, sorry." He blinks at you, a little slowly as he leans more of his weight into your hand. Your fingers dig into the meat of his face and you can feel something tense in his jaw.

"Don't apologize baby, just get on with it." This feels familiar too. Like slipping into a pair of beloved jeans. The fit so perfect.

His eyes light up in the next instant, sparkling and bright, and holy shit you're in for it now. "Say less, boss."

You don't know if you still love him, but you do know that you'll always love the feeling of his mouth on you. His hands. Leaving wet trails as he kisses your skin messily, sloppy. Clever fingers following in the wake of his tongue.

#stray kids #skz #bang chan x reader #skz x reader #echo writes #if I missed any warnings/tags just let me know! #anyway uhh please enjoy. #I do have plans for a part 2 but nothing concrete #we'll see if I want to continue this lol

[louscartridge]

hii i’m not sure if it ever sent but i was wondering if i could request something cute with soul where you put his hair in pigtails or something. thank u!!!

i do not give permission for my fics to be posted claiming to be yours, translated, or posted on another platform.

soul x gn reader

cw- not rly anything besides that fact that soul was like kinda over working himself with studying and reader calls soul 'babe' once.

a/n- LMFAOOOO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG. also the beginning of this was write on a phone so sorry if it looks weird lmaoo.

You've been sitting on souls lap for maybe a good hour by now, his chin resting on your shoulder.

The two of you have been studying almost all day, but you gave up a while ago. Soul, however, was way more keen on continuously studying.

You sat still for the most part, the only time you would move slightly was when soul had to move himself to turn the page in his book or write something down.

Soul removed his hand from the small of your back once again and wrote something down.

“oh my god” he sighed, burying his face into your collarbone.

You lean back, his head falling from you, your lower back, hitting the desk.

“Take a break, yeah?” you whisper, caressing his neck and jaw.

"but i have to get this done." soul whispers back, earning a glare from you. he sighs. "ok fine. but! let me finish the rest of this, and then ill stop. i promise!"

"ok. sure, whatever you say." you reply doubtfully, taking your hands off his neck and put them into his hair.

soul was dedicated to begin with, but with all the added pressure from fnc and himself at that, he felt like he couldnt stop. no matter how stressed it made him, no matter how much you and keeho nagged him to stop for just a second, he insisted he needed to continue if he wanted to communicate with his peers better and all.

news flash! he didnt stop.

"what are you doing?" soul asked as he felt you parting his hair with your nail.

"if you are going to be oh so keen on studying, im gonna make it so you cant continue." you reply leaning foward again.

"y/n, i cant see"

"its almost like thats the entire point."

you comb through the left side of his hair with your fingers and twist one of the hair ties you have on your wrist around souls hair, making a little pony tail.

"oh my god are you seriously putting my hair in pigtails right now?"

"yep." you giggle doing the same thing to the left side.

"happy now?" he asks smiling.

"are you done studying for tonight?"

"honestly i dont even remember where i left off so i guess. its just gonna be hard to find-"

you cut him off. "yes or no babe."

'"yes." soul conforms

"then yes, im happy now" you smile shaking his pigtails.

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