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godslino · 4 months

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MIGRATION | bang chan first date series. strangers to lovers.

pairing: bang chan x fem!reader word count: 5.5k genre: fluff, romance, falling in love at first sight summary: you've never been lucky when it comes to dating, but a blind date with chan just might turn that around

author’s note: hello and welcome to my first date series!! i seriously had so much fun writing this and i’m so excited to continue with the other members. i hope you all enjoy! if you liked it, please remember that any and all feedback is appreciated!! happy reading <3

“So…I know a guy.”

You groan, throwing your head back against the cushion of the booth you’re currently shoved into. Changbin drops his fork to gesture at you with his hand, a look of exasperation on his face.

“Come on, I haven’t even said anything yet!”

“The problem is that you’ve said anything at all.” You say, glaring at him as you reach for your drink.

Changbin, as much as you love him, is notorious for being the worst wing man in the history of wing men. His most recent pick, Jooyoung, was a friend of his from high school. A freelance writer, the owner of a snazzy apartment in one of the more sophisticated districts of Seoul, and conveniently single. They’d recently reconnected after a mutual friend threw a party that they both went to, and he was ecstatic to try and set the two of you up.

You’d been reluctant, rightfully so, but Changbin is anything but a quitter and you also just so happen to be the world’s biggest pushover (his pout is just too good, okay?), so you’d agreed on the off chance that it just might work out.

Long story short, it didn’t.

Jooyoung was probably the biggest asshole you’d ever been on a date with. Not that you were surprised, though. Changbin’s circle of friends when he was younger mainly consisted of grade-A douchebags who were born with a golden spoon in their mouths. Perks of being born into a wealthy family and attending one of the most elite private schools in the country, apparently. Changbin had attended a university on the outskirts of Seoul for a reason. Lesser known, laid back—to study music of all things—and the sole reason for his father’s headache, as he’d put it. That’s where he met you.

“Okay, but I think this guy might be the one.” He makes air quotes around the two words, and you scoff as you cross your arms.

“And what would you know about that?”

“Um, a lot? You’re my best friend, I know exactly what you’re looking for.”

This is the part where things go south—or so you assume. Changbin puts on the puppy eyes, jutting his bottom lip out to hell as he stares at you from across the table. You glare at him dead on, unwavering. He won’t get you this time. Not over your dead body.

“At least let me tell you about him?”

“No.”

“I met him at the company. He makes music just like me, only slightly better. And you know how I am, I don’t just say that stuff. That means he’s really good.”

Choosing to ignore him, you go back to poking at your noodles.

“He’s from Australia. Born here, moved there when he was young, then moved back to pursue music. Kinda ballsy if you ask me. But he speaks English, so at least communication won’t be as much of an issue as other guys.”

A small crack in your composure. The idea of this guy growing up somewhere other than Korea is…pretty intriguing.

Despite moving here three years ago for school, it’s still kind of hard to communicate when your Korean could be more polished than it is. You’d basically kept to yourself for the first year until you met Changbin. He’d easily integrated you into his group of other music majors, even though you stuck out like a sore thumb as both a foreigner and a stem major. But if it weren’t for him, you think that you might’ve hauled ass back home a long time ago due to the isolation. So to be introduced to someone who can speak english, under the prospect of possibly dating them, sparks a bit more interest.

Changbin notices the slight twitch of your brow and smirks, one side of his mouth pulling downwards. Bastard.

“Hmm, what else? Oh! Dude’s got a killer set of dimples. You’re into that, aren’t you? You used to go on and on about that younger guy in your physics class during senior year. What was his name—Jeongsuk? Jeong—Jinyoung? Jeongin! It was Jeongin.” Changbin snaps his fingers like he’s impressed with his own memory, pointing at you as you fix him with a blank stare. “He has dimplessss.” He sing-songs for emphasis.

And, really, this should not be the breaking point. You’re better than this. You’re not so shallow that you would throw away your pride for a man you’ve never met—let alone never seen before—all because he has dimples.

But, once again, you’re a pushover. A big one. So yeah, fuck it.

“What’s his name?”

Changbin blinks like he wasn’t expecting you to fall for it. “Seriously? That’s what got you?”

“You have five seconds to tell me his name before I change my mind.”

He scoffs, mouth agape. “I went as far as disregarding my own talents to play up this guy and his music making abilities—”

“Five.”

“—tried to give you a little bit of a backstory, too—”

“Four.”

“—and the dimples are the final nail in the coffin?”

“Three.”

“Chan! His name is Chan. God. Just—stop counting. It freaks me out.”

Chan. You throw the name around in your brain for a bit, pointedly ignoring the way Changbin is whining about how you sound like his mother when you do the whole number thing. It’s kind of…cute. Not enough to conjure up an idea of what he might look like, but putting a name to a faceless stranger with dimples in your head is gonna have to do for now.

“You swear this guy is normal?”

Changbin rolls his eyes. “Define normal.”

“Okay, let me rephrase myself,” you push your plate forward, laying your forearms on the table as an indicator that you’re serious, “Is he an asshole?”

“No.”

“Hm. Okay. So that’s a maybe.”

“What the fuck? I just said no.”

“Yeah? You also set me up with Jooyoung, remember? The guy who literally started flirting with the waitress right in front of me five minutes into our date? And then proceeded to yell at her when his fries weren’t salted?”

“How was I supposed to know…” Changbin mumbles, looking off to the side guiltily.

“Nevermind. Just—if this goes bad, I’m blaming you. And then I’m never going on a blind date with one of your friends again. Matter of fact, I’m never going on a date again, period. Deal?”

Changbin grins, the apples of his cheeks shiny under the restaurant lighting. He holds his hand out for you to shake, and you take it hesitantly, grimacing when he uses his strength to jostle your arm like a ragdoll.

“Deal.”

🎥🍿

Any hope you had for the date going smoothly starts to dwindle once Chan texts you the day of.

You’d gotten his number from Changbin, who had so kindly already given Chan your number before he’d even broached the subject with you. The resulting lecture about privacy and consent may or may not have extended the rest of your time at the restaurant, a sheepish Changbin rubbing at the back of his neck while you berated him for his lack of common sense.

When your phone buzzes on your bathroom counter, Chan’s name flashing across the screen, you mistakenly think that he might be messaging because he’s early. Which, given the fact that you were standing in nothing but a towel, hair still wet from your shower and face covered in moisturizer you hadn’t rubbed into your skin yet, would be less than ideal.

Chan [12:32p.m.]

Hey! I’m really sorry to have to do this, but can we push the date back an hour?

Something came up at the studio

I tried to get out of it but I have a deadline to meet, client probably won’t be too happy of their track isn’t done on time

Great. Already off to a rough start.

In his defense though, you appreciate the fact that he’s messaged a whopping two hours in advance. Most people probably wouldn’t be bothered to allow that much of a grace period.

You [2:33p.m.]

no worries!!!

you didn’t buy the tickets yet, did you?

Chan [2:34p.m.]

Nope! So we should be fine

I’ll purchase them for 6 and then be there to scoop you up around 5:30 if that’s cool?

You [2:36p.m.]

sounds perfect

hope stuff goes well at the studio!!

Chan [2:40p.m.]

You’re sweet

Thank you, I’ll see you soon :)

You’re sweet. You stare at the words on the screen, your brain buffering for a moment. A big fat loading circle floating above your head.

Suddenly it’s way too hot in the bathroom. You blame the fact that you shower with the water cranked all the way up to boiling, because really there’s no other explanation for the warmth spreading throughout your cheeks.

To be fair, it’s been almost a year now since you’ve had any sort of positive interaction with another male. On one hand, your last relationship ended in a ‘It’s not you, it’s me’ ordeal that most definitely gave the impression that it was you. On the other hand, most of the dates you’ve been on have ruined themselves within the first five minutes, never really giving you the chance to feel any sort of connection. Cocky attitudes, overly pushy encounters, and even someone who walked into the cafe you were seated at, took one look at you, and walked right back out. That one still hurts.

It’s a little sad that Chan is the only guy out of the mix whose elicited any sort of reaction out of you. Especially since you haven’t even met him yet.

The extra hour that you have to compensate for flies by a lot quicker than you expect, and before you know it Chan is messaging that he’s five minutes away.

You take one last glance in the mirror: a pair of light wash jeans that sit right above your hips, black halter top bodysuit, and a thin cream colored cardigan to tie it all together. Simple and cute. A movie date doesn’t really call for all the dramatics, and you’d hate to overdress for a first impression.

You’re in the middle of reapplying your chapstick when the doorbell rings.

Take it easy, you say to yourself, inhaling deeply as you reach for the door handle. You let the air out with one final huff, swinging the door open only to be met by a bouquet of daisies directly in front of your face.

You blink in surprise. Well that’s a first. Before you get a chance to speak, the bouquet is being lowered, and the moment Chan’s face comes into view causes a small gasp to fall from your lips.

He’s…cute. Beautiful, even. A bright smile, dimples that tuck themselves into his laugh lines as his eyes disappear into crescents much like the moon, and lips that make your head spin when his tongue darts out to wet them nervously. His hair falls messily across his forehead in a faded hue of purple with hints of brown, definitely unconventional and an obvious result of one too many washes, but he makes it work. He makes it work well.

He clears his throat, brings a fist up to his mouth to emphasize it, and then grins. “Hi there.”

It takes a second for your brain to catch up. Even his voice is attractive. He’s using english, which leads you to assume that Changbin has already told him that you’re not from here. His accent is there, not too noticeable but also strong enough to be picked up on.

“Hey.” You smile, rubbing a hand up and down your arm.

“These are for you. I, uh, as an apology for being late. Is it too much?”

You shake your head quickly. “No! No, these are—they’re beautiful. I love them. Thank you…Chan.” His name rolls off your tongue hesitantly, but it all disappears as soon as he flashes that smile again.

“Good, I’m glad,” his voice catches the breathy end of the laugh he lets out, “This is weird, isn’t it? I’m sorry, I don’t really do well with this kind of stuff. But you look really nice, and I’m excited. My car is parked just out front if you’re ready to go.”

Honest. Awkward. A laugh that makes you want to hear it over and over again. You were sold the minute his eyes met yours. Chan offers his elbow for you to take like you’re in some cheesy romance movie from your childhood.

Yeah. This one is definitely gonna go well.

🎥🍿

Chan might not show it, but he’s just as nervous as you are.

You wouldn’t be able to tell at first glance that he spent an entire forty-five minutes deciding on an outfit, only to settle with some jeans and a white shirt, a jacket thrown on top for some color.

When Changbin first proposed the idea of going on a date with you, he was adamant that he wasn’t looking for anything right now. But as soon as you opened the door, eyes wide and looking like the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen, he’s glad he said yes.

“So what movie are we seeing?” you ask, frowning when Chan laughs. “What? What’s funny?”

“It’s a surprise.” He smiles, rushing forward to hold the door of the car open for you. When he puts his hand against the top part to block your head, you have to suppress the smattering of butterfly wings that start to clamor against your ribcage.

Chan is sweet. He double checks that you’re buckled in before driving off, he asks if there’s any specific music you want to listen to before foregoing it all entirely to ask about you instead, he listens with an attentiveness that has you feeling seen and heard, and he smiles with such genuinity and warmth that you feel cold once it disappears. You stare at him in awe, like he’s a figment of your imagination.

Chan’s been staring back, too. He spares glances in your direction when you’re not looking, feels the steady thump of his heart gradually increase whenever you lean a little too far to the left when he makes you laugh, and he thinks your voice is prettier than anything that’s ever played on the radio.

You learn more about him as he drives. He moved back from Australia when he was seventeen, he’s got two younger siblings and an adorable puppy named Berry back home (and pictures on his dashboard to prove it), he prefers Australia’s summers over Seoul’s winters but he finds more inspiration here in the city than anywhere else. You resonate with the fact that he doesn’t really have anyone here besides a small circle of friends. No family, no one to fall back on when things get tough.

Chan talks like he’s an old friend, like he’s re-telling a story you’ve heard a thousand times. He makes it easy to fall into step with him as if you’ve been here all along.

By the time the two of you get to the movie theater, the initial awkwardness that had hung in the air is gone, replaced by comfort and ease. Chan throws the car in park and all but books it out of his seat to open your door for you, and you giggle when he makes a dramatic bow as you exit.

The theater is kind of busy for a Thursday night. There are families with their kids lined up to get tickets and groups of teenagers at the concessions, all of which make for a crowded lobby. Chan glances down when you place a hand on his arm, mostly because you want to stay close, but also because it’s hard to ignore the feeling of being magnetized towards him. He smiles, bending at the elbow to allow your arm to slip into his.

There are cardboard cutouts along the sides of the lobby, all of which serve to promote the newest animated release about a family of ducks. You squint at the showtimes once the two of you make it to the front of the counter, letting your eyes scan the movie titles until you finally land on—

“Two tickets for Migration, under Bang Chan.”

The girl behind the counter looks up, her eyes bored. She can’t be any older than sixteen, most likely resentful about the fact that she’s stuck here on a school night. “The kids movie?” She asks, unimpressed.

Chan braves a glance in your direction and—ah, there goes that grin again. Cue the butterflies. You’d agree to a three hour long showing of static and white noise if it meant he’d never stop doing that.

“Yup, that’s the one.”

Tickets in hand, a smiling Chan right next to you, and a massive line for popcorn that honestly might have the two of you late for the previews. “We’re seeing a kids movie?” You ask, moving up a spot in the line.

“Mmhm. I spent so long looking at all the options. The romcoms seemed boring, Bin mentioned that the newest superhero movie was bad, and I figured a scary one was too cliché,” he eyes you sidelong, “Unless you’re into that.”

You huff out a laugh, not really expecting him to be so straightforward, “I definitely am not.”

“Hm, so the old yawn to put my arm around you trick won’t work?” His eyes are playful, but something about the idea of being in even more contact with him has your stomach doing flips.

“Nope. Sorry. Seen that one before.” You say, making him laugh, his earring dangling when he drops his chin towards his chest.

“I guess I’ll have to figure out something else then.”

Another thing you learn about Chan is that he enjoys interesting food combinations.

“You like peanut m&ms?” he asks, throwing a bag of them onto the counter when you nod your head. After he pays, he pockets his wallet and turns to you with a bucket of popcorn tucked under his arm and a large drink with two straws in his hand. “Could you grab the candy?”

First door, theater one. There are a bunch of parents and their kids entering ahead of you, all of them buzzing with excitement. It’s a little funny, the fact that two grown adults—no kid in tow—are walking into the showing of a kids movie.

Chan leads you to the very back row. “For the kids, just in case they can’t see over us.” He quickly clarifies after noticing the way your eyebrows shoot up in silent question, but even in the dim lighting you can still see the tips of his ears turning pink.

“Taking me to a kids movie and then propositioning me in the presence of five year olds? You’ve got some nerve.” You say, timing it perfectly as Chan is leaning forward to take a sip of the drink that’s placed in the cupholder between the two of you. He sputters around the straw in surprise, coughing into his fist.

“That’s not—” You laugh, cutting him off as he stares at you with red eyes from his coughing fit. The mood shifts after that, and Chan visibly relaxes into his seat as he starts throwing jokes out a lot easier than before.

“Learned this from my dad,” he says, opening the bag of m&ms, “It’s my favorite thing to do at the movies. Haven’t been in a while because—well, I don’t really have anyone to go with.”

You watch as he dumps the candy into the popcorn bucket, shaking it to mix everything together. He reaches in to grab a piece of popcorn and an m&m at the same time, popping it into his mouth.

“Oh my god,” he sighs, slumping into his seat, “Forgot how good that is.”

When you don’t respond, he looks over. “You okay?”

Are you? You’re not sure. Every bone in your body is screaming bloody murder because Chan is making it really hard to not want to lean over and kiss the concerned frown off of his stupidly pretty face.

The thing about it is that you don’t do blind dates. And you most especially don’t enjoy them. But Chan is different. Chan holds doors open for you and makes corny jokes. Chan laughs at everything like it’s his last day on earth and he’s making up for lost time. Chan listens when you talk and responds with genuine interest. Chan compliments the little girl in the theater lobby who’s wearing a princess dress to watch the new superhero movie. Chan shares something as special as his dad’s favorite movie snack with you. Chan is just…Chan. And you like him. A lot.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay, I’m just—thank you. For sharing that with me.” You say, the corners of your mouth lifting.

“Stop doing that.” He mumbles, eyes trained ahead.

“Doing what?”

“Smiling. It makes my head spin.”

Your heart slams against your chest. You’ve spent the entire date trying to make sense of the way Chan makes you feel, trying to put it all into words. Yet here he is, right in front of you, saying his thoughts as they come and absolutely ruining your resolve in the process. Like it’s easy for him.

There’s no time to answer when the lights go down, the screen up front widening to signal the start of the movie.

Just like any other kids movie, it’s easy to get caught up in all the surface level jokes while also understanding the themes. You and Chan laugh outwardly at some parts, hold your breath at the suspenseful ones. It’s almost like you’re a kid again, enjoying yourself fully for the first time in a really, really long while.

Chan was right, the popcorn and m&m combination is good. You reach back into the bucket for more, freezing when Chan does the same and his knuckles brush yours in the slightest of touches, sending a jolt of electricity up your arm. It happens a few more times, each one leaving his hand lingering for far longer than the last, until eventually he makes a show of digging really hard for an m&m and hooks his pinky with yours in between the popcorn. It’s cheesy and cliché but god does it make your stomach do somersaults.

About three-quarters of the way through the movie, when it’s clear that neither one of you are willing to take it the next step further, you lean into his ear.

“You okay? You look kind of tired.”

Chan turns, confused. He’s certain that he wasn’t dozing off. He did have a late night last night. He was up working on the track that still somehow managed to hold him back today, hoping to have everything polished so that he didn’t run into any obstacles before your date. But that didn’t really work out in the end.

“Huh? No, I’m fine. Honest.”

“You sure?” you ask, a slight lift to your voice, “I don’t know, you looked like you were about to yawn.”

The light from the movie hits the left side of his face, illuminating all of his features in a way that makes your breath hitch. He’s pretty. So, so pretty.

Chan blinks, slow, and then his confusion slowly turns to one of understanding. Cue the grin.

“You know, now that I’m thinking about it…I am kind of tired.” He makes a show of fake yawning, stretches his arms above his head (and not blocking any children since you’re in the back row, thankfully), before bringing his right arm down and around your shoulders.

You spend the rest of the movie like that, tucked into Chan’s side while his fingers move gently against your shoulder. He’s unbelievably warm, and eventually you find your head resting in the spot just between his shoulder and his neck, his cheek pushed up against the side of your head. The position makes it easier to reach up and pat his eyes dry at the end, a single tear slipping out as he sniffled and mumbles a ‘M’not crying’ that has you giggling and doting all over him.

He doesn’t move his arm for the entire walk back to the car, and you momentarily mourn the loss when he opens the door for you (again!) so you can climb in. When he finally gets in on the other side, he says nothing, just reaches over to intertwine his fingers with yours and places your joined hands on the center console like it’s something you’ve done a thousand times.

“Ready to go home?” He asks, looking over at you.

You glance down at your hands, then back up at him. “Is it weird if I say no?”

“Not at all,” Chan grins, throwing the car into drive, “I was hoping you would say that.”

🎥🍿

“For you.”

Chan plops down on the bench, a hand outstretched with a steaming hot chocolate ready for you to take.

“Thanks,” you smile, cradling the cup between your hands.

After some deliberation, you and Chan had decided to come to the Han River. It’s quiet, the bridge lights reflecting off the water as the sounds of the city fade into the background. The temperature is slightly on the colder side, the tail end of winter just barely there. When he notices the slight shiver of your shoulders after a particularly strong gust of wind, Chan shucks his jacket off in a heartbeat to drape over you.

“Oh, you don’t—”

“You’re cold,” he scolds, pulling at the collar of the jacket to tighten it around you. His hand lingers near the base of your neck, fingers itching to reach out and touch. He doesn’t though, just smiles and settles back into the bench. “Plus I think Changbin might actually kill me if something were to happen to you.”

“Oh please,” you roll your eyes, “Ignore him. I’m not a baby.”

Chan takes a sip of his own hot chocolate, licks his lips to catch the excess. Not that you’re staring. “I’m serious. I mean, I get it. He told me that you’re here alone and stuff.”

You hum in understanding, turning your head to stare out at the water. “So are you.”

It’s Chan’s turn to look at you now, his elbows resting against his knees, and you watch out of the corner of your eye as his face turns unreadable.

The silence stretches thin, nothing but the sound of cars passing and a dog barking nearby. It’s kind of comforting in a way. Being on your own in a new place has been one of the hardest transitions you’ve ever had to deal with. There were times where it felt like a mistake, where you wished that you’d never even gotten on the plane. But then there were times where you felt lucky to be experiencing the things you are; to be able to try new things and pursue a life for yourself that you never thought possible.

“How’d you do it?” you ask quietly, turning to meet Chan’s gaze. “I mean, you were young. Seventeen is basically still a kid. Being alone in a place like this is scary as an adult, I can’t even imagine what that was like.”

Chan smiles, but it’s sad. His eyes twinkle with something like resentment, the lights from the bridge making it look like he’s glowing. A flame that’ll never burn out. “Would you believe me if I said I’m still figuring it out?” The end of it comes out as a laugh, but you can tell he means it.

“I don’t know, being a big shot music producer with deadlines and clients seems pretty figured out to me.”

Chan nods and stares at the cup in his hands. “My parents hated it. Still do, I think.” You don’t say anything. Chan is grateful for that; grateful for the space you’re giving him to explain. “They wanted more for me I guess. But I’m not sure that more would’ve necessarily been what I wanted, you know? I’m content with where I am now. I’m doing something I love, even if it took a while to get here. They don’t see it.” He chews his lip nervously, fingers playing with the soggy material of the paper cup’s rim.

Chan doesn’t know why he’s saying any of this. He’s not the type to completely bare himself out to anyone, to scoop away at his insides until there’s nothing left besides the hollowness he feels whenever he thinks about how he traded his life back home for a life of music. But you’re different somehow. Chan knew since the moment he saw you, felt it in the way your eyes lit up whenever he spoke and in the ease of how well the two of you got along. He was doomed from the start.

“I see it.” you say, your eyes still fixed on the water. “I might’ve only just met you today, but I see it. And I get it, too. Maybe not to the same extent, but the feeling of wanting to do something for yourself even if it meant losing something else. There’s purpose in that, in you. It’s okay to be selfish if it means you’re prioritizing your happiness.” You let the words settle for a bit, hoping that you don’t sound too shallow. When you turn to look at him, he’s already looking back.

“You don’t know me enough to say that.”

“I don’t have to know you to believe in you, Chan.”

A beat of silence, and then he’s laughing, short and punctuated as he lets his head fall forward with a small shake.

“You’re…”

“What? Corny?” you supply, smiling over at him.

“No,” he says, meeting your gaze. “Perfect.”

You huff out an incredulous laugh, looking away to hide the blush that’s spreading across your cheeks. “You can’t just—god, now who’s corny? Huh?”

“I never said I wasn’t corny.” Chan argues, sitting up to face you fully.

“Yeah but you can’t just say stuff like that.”

“Why not? I think you like it.”

Your mouth opens and closes quickly, lost for words. Chan’s closer now, a lot closer than he was before. One arm thrown across the back of the bench, loosely framing you in, he bends it at the elbow to bring a hand up and tuck your hair behind your ear.

“I never said that.” you mumble, your gaze flicking down to his lips and then back up again.

“You want me to stop then?” he asks, voice just above a whisper. You know what he’s implying the minute his fingers trace the shell of your ear, moving down slowly until they start playing with the collar of his jacket.

“Is it bad if I say no?”

Chan’s hand is warm to the touch, ice to fire. You lean into it. A moth to a flame, one that’ll never go out.

“Not at all,” he repeats, just like earlier, “I was hoping you would say that.”

A dog barking in the distance. Cars beeping as they pass by. A plane flying overhead. A group of friends laughing as they ride past on their bikes. The minute Chan’s lips connect with yours, everything fades, the sounds warbling together like static. Unintelligible; nothing besides the feeling of Chan kissing you matters.

It’s slow, nothing more than a press, but you feel it in every fiber of your being. Kissing Chan feels like the poles of the earth are colliding, meeting in the middle and sending its molten core spreading throughout your entire body. Warm, warm, warm. Chan is warm. He’s soft and gentle and his lashes tickle your cheeks when his eyes flutter closed halfway through because he was too busy etching your features into his memory.

You’re the first to pull away, admiring the way Chan’s eyes slowly peel open, lips swollen and pink. Unable to resist, you lean in and peck them once more, giggling when he blinks at you in shock.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been as compelled to kiss someone as I was just now.” You smile.

“Me too,” he sighs, resting his forehead against yours. “I don’t normally kiss on the first date.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t normally do dates anyways. At least not ones that don’t immediately go up in flames.”

“What about now?” Chan asks, raising an eyebrow. “Have I changed your mind?”

“Hmm, I don’t know. I kind of told Changbin that if this was a disaster I was never gonna go on a date again.”

Chan laughs and pulls you into his side, tucked right under his arm like the shape of him was molded in a way to make sure that you fit perfectly in his embrace.

“Is it bad if I say I like that idea?” He asks, glancing down at where your head is resting against his chest.

“Nope,” you say before leaning up to kiss him once more. He smiles into it when he feels your fingers playing with the curls at the nape of his neck, humming softly against your lips.

“Worst date ever, then?” he mumbles against your mouth.

“Yeah,” you sigh, pulling back to stare into his eyes, big and brown and brighter than the stars, “Worst date ever.”

[tags: @palindrome969 @summergirlsmj @n1staytiny ]

#bang chan x reader #bang chan fluff #bang chan angst #bang chan fic #bang chan fanfic #bang chan fanfiction #skz x reader #skz fanfic #skz fic #skz fanfiction #skz smut #skz fluff #skz angst #bang chan #stray kids #skz #first date series

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flwrstqr · 17 days

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— HOW TO LOSE A GUY IN 10 DAYS (LHS - 이희승)

SYNOPSIS ! an advice writer, you, starts on a bold new project for an article aiming to explain how to drive a man away in just 10 days. your editor is supports, so you set out to find a suitable man for her experiment. meanwhile, executive heeseung is equally confident in his ability to make any woman fall in love with him within 10 days. when you and heeseung cross paths, things slightly go off plan.

THE CAST heeseung x writer! fem reader

GENRE s2l, fluff, comedy, romance

WORD COUNT 5k+

WARNINGS parties, kissing, small grammar errors, yn kind of playing with heeseung at first, swearing, angst, crying

DANi NOTEZ hii this is for my liz's new event!!! this i based the rom com, how to lose a guy in 10 days. i kind of changed up scenes but the main idea and plot is based on the iconic 2000s movie. i've been writing this for abt 2-3 days? i thought it was good enough for liz' event so here i am. anyways i hope u enjoy it ><

BEING A WRITER HAS BEEN YOUR NUMBER ONE GOAL EVER SINCE HIGH SCHOOL. Now, at age 23, you were finally standing at the gates of the biggest magazine company ever. The sight alone sent chills down your spine, filling you with exhilaration.

Taking a deep breath, you pushed open the doors and stepped inside. The bustling activity, the hum of the printer, and the aroma of bitter coffee greeted you. You made your way to the elevator and anxiously pressed the button for the 17th floor.

Upon arrival, you awkwardly walked into the office. Your heart was pounding, and your knees were slightly shaking. You approached the manager's office and opened the door, finding yourself sitting in front of your section's main manager.

"YN LN?" the woman asked.

"Yes, ma'am," you replied stiffly, nerves evident in your voice.

"Welcome to our magazine company," she greeted, shaking your sweaty hand.

"Thank you," you responded with your usual sweet smile.

"Well, why don't you get to work?" she laughed. Your eyes widened, and you quickly stammered an apology, rushing to find your new desk and start brainstorming ideas.

For nearly two hours, you gazed out the window, feeling empty. No ideas were coming to you. It always seemed that the best ideas came at the worst times, and now, when you needed them most, your mind was blank.

"YN, just think…" you whispered to yourself, running your fingers through your hair. You glanced around the office, hoping for inspiration. Your eyes settled on a young man and woman engaged in a flirtatious conversation. Watching them smile and laugh together made you wonder if they were a couple or just interested in each other. (happy couples really did give you an ick.)

Then, it happened. The perfect idea. An idea that could possibly get you promoted and shake the whole world.

Quickly scribbling on your paper, the title snapped into your mind: "How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days."

YOU MIGHT BE WONDERING, how do you even lose a guy in 10 days? Easy—just find a guy and drive him away by doing stereotypical “girl things.” Sounds like a piece of cake, right?

“YN, that is one of the BEST ideas I’ve ever heard!” your editor, Yeseo, exclaims.

“Really?” you ask, eagerly smiling.

“It’s perfect! It would catch everyone’s attention!” Yeseo explains, her eyes lighting up as she imagines the situation.

“So, how are you going to write this?” Yeseo raises an eyebrow.

“I’ll try it out myself and document my experiences. That way, it’s more authentic,” you shrug.

“That sounds great. Just journal your experiences each day,” Yeseo nods, agreeing with your plan. “I’m so excited to see the final product, YN. Email me once you’re finished, and we’ll get it published within weeks.”

You give her a quick smile before leaving her office, ready to start your new adventure.

PARTIES. USUALLY ONE OF THE THINGS YOU ABSOLUTELY HATED. The noise of couples kissing, people screaming, and music blasting through the speakers was just not your thing. The way sweaty bodies brush against each other as they chug alcohol. Parties are truly the thing you hate the most.

“So you’re telling me your new article for the magazine is about how to get a boy to dump you in 10 days?” Karina raised her eyebrow.

“In other words, yes,” you smiled. “I mean, what’s the worst that can happen?”

“Possibly it not working,” Giselle interjected.

“Well, it will. I’ve planned the whole thing,” you grinned with a hint of pride. “My editor was impressed. I’m sure it’ll work.”

“If you say so,” Karina laughed at your confidence.

“So basically, YN will get a boyfriend before me?” Ningning asked, shocked.

“Well, he’s not gonna be my boyfriend. He’s more like a test,” you replied uncertainty. As you continued to explain your plan, you felt a gaze fixed on you from across the room.

A FEW MINUTES BEFORE

“I bet you can’t get a girlfriend,” Jake joked.

“I can,” Heeseung rolled his eyes.

“Wanna bet on it, then?” Jake's eyes glinted with playfulness.

“Deal,” Heeseung confirmed.

“If you get that girl over there as your girlfriend, then I’ll give you a thousand dollars.” Jake smirked, pointing at you across the room.

“Her?” Heeseung raised his eyebrow as he checked you out. You were pretty to his eyes, though he wasn’t sure if he had the courage to approach you.

“Yup, her,” Jake grinned.

“Deal, I’ll have her in my arms within a day,” Heeseung winked before walking over to ask for your number.

NOW

“No way my plan will fail–” your voice stopped as Heeseung approached, tapping your shoulder lightly.

“Hi,” he greeted you with a welcoming smile.

“Uh, hi?” you replied, confused.

“You’re kind of cute. Can I get your number?” Heeseung asked, the words not quite rolling off his tongue as he had never done this before.

Your cheeks burned slightly as you stared. “Sure?” He was quite cute, with his sweet smile and perfectly styled hair. You gave him your number, and he mentioned he would text you later before walking off.

“YN, you know what that means?” Giselle raised her eyebrow.

“Huh?” you looked confused.

“You can use him as your test,” Winter recalled. Your eyes then widened. Perfect! He would be the perfect subject for your new article. Now, how were you going to make him yours?

YOU SIT ON YOUR BED, staring at your phone, debating whether to text Heeseung first. Your fingers hover over the keyboard, a mixture of nervousness and excitement bubbling inside you. Finally, you take a deep breath and type out a message.

YN: Hi, it’s YN. We met at the party earlier, you asked for my number. :)

You hit send and immediately feel a rush of anxiety. What if he doesn’t respond? What if he thinks you’re weird? You try to distract yourself by scrolling through social media, but the minutes feel like hours. Suddenly, your phone buzzes.

Heeseung: Hey, of course I remember. How's your night going?

YN: It’s going good, just relaxing now. How about you?

Heeseung: Same here. Just got home. That party was a bit too much for me, tbh

You smile, feeling a little more at ease.

YN: Agreed, not rlly a party person lmao

Heeseung: Really? Me neither. I actually prefer a quiet night with some good music.

YN: Same, what kind of music do you like?

Heeseung: I listen to a lot like R&B and indie ig

YN: oh rlly? Same w me

Heeseung: oh that’s cool

Heeseung: also wanna meet up one day?

YN: That would be amazing. I’m totally up for it.

Heeseung: Cool, it’s a date then. :)

You can’t help but smile at his message, feeling a flutter of excitement.

YN: Sounds like a plan.

Heeseung: It’s getting late. I should probably get some sleep. But I’m glad we got to talk tonight.

YN: Me too. Sleep well, Heeseung. Talk to you tomorrow?

Heeseung: Definitely. Goodnight, YN. :)

You set your phone down, a smile still on your face. This might just be the start of something interesting.

YOU TAKE A DEEP BREATH, smoothing out your outfit one last time before stepping into the restaurant. Heeseung is already there, waiting at a table near the window. He spots you and waves, a warm smile spreading across his face. You give a small smile back.

“Hi,” you greet him as you sit down.

“Hey,” he replies, “You look great.”

“Thanks, you too.”

The waiter comes over to take your orders, and there’s a moment of awkward silence as you both look at the menus.

“So, uh, do you come here often?” Heeseung asks, attempting to break the ice.

“Actually, it’s my first time,” you admit.

“I see,” Heeseung awkwardly laughs.

AFTER DINNER, you both step outside into the cool evening air, feeling more comfortable in each other’s presence.

“That was really nice,” Heeseung says, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

“Yeah, it was,” you agree, feeling a sense of relief that the awkwardness from earlier has faded.

You walk side by side down the quiet street, enjoying the peaceful atmosphere.

“Do you live far from here?” Heeseung asks, breaking the silence.

“Not too far. Just a few blocks away,” you reply, glancing at him.

“Oh I see,” he says, smiling.

As you continued walking, the two of you began to chatter off. The conversation flows effortlessly, and you find yourself laughing at his jokes and sharing your own stories.

“Did you see the sunset earlier?” Heeseung asks, pointing to the sky, which is now painted with shades of orange and pink.

“Yeah, it was beautiful,” you say, smiling at the sight.

“I had a really good time tonight,” Heeseung says, looking at you with a soft smile.

“Me too,” you reply, feeling a warmth spread through you.

As you reach your street, you both come to a stop.

“Well, I guess this is where we part ways,” Heeseung says, looking a little reluctant to leave.

“Yeah,” you say, feeling a twinge of disappointment.

“Thanks for tonight, YN. I had a great time,” he says, stepping closer to you, “Maybe another time we can hang out again.”

“Thank you too, Heeseung. That sounds great,” you reply, feeling a rush of happiness.

YOU DECIDE IT'S TIME TO PUT YOUR PLAN INTO ACTION. You’ve thought through every detail, determined to see if your article concept works in real life. Step one: find an ugly dog and some hideous clothes. You’ve got the perfect ideas in mind.

You meet Heeseung outside his apartment, holding a small, scruffy dog with a face only its owner could love. You flash him a bright smile as he opens the door.

“Surprise!” you exclaim. “I got us a dog!”

Heeseung’s eyes widen as he takes in the sight of the dog. “Uh, wow, YN. That’s…unexpected.”

“Isn’t he adorable?” you gush, ignoring the bewilderment on Heeseung’s face. “I named him Snuggles.”

“Snuggles, huh?” Heeseung says, trying to muster enthusiasm. “Yeah, he’s…something.”

You place Snuggles in Heeseung’s arms, watching as the dog licks his face with an enthusiastic, slobbery tongue. Heeseung grimaces slightly but manages a strained smile.

“Let’s take him for a walk,” you suggest brightly, grabbing a garishly colored leash from your bag.

Later that evening, you bring out the next part of your plan: an outfit so hideous that it should be impossible for Heeseung to bear. You hand him a neon green tracksuit with orange polka dots and a pair of mismatched shoes.

“I thought we could match!” you say, revealing your identical outfit. “Isn’t it fun?”

Heeseung looks at the clothes, then back at you, clearly unsure how to respond. “Wow, YN. This is…unique.”

“You don’t like it?” you ask, pouting slightly.

“No, no, it’s great,” he says quickly. “I’ll just, uh, go change.”

When he returns, you both look like you’ve stepped out of a bad 80s workout video. You can’t help but laugh at the absurdity, but Heeseung seems to be struggling to keep a straight face.

“Let’s go grab dinner,” you say, linking your arm with his. “I made reservations at that fancy restaurant downtown.”

At the restaurant, the two of you turn heads as you walk in, dressed in your eye-searing outfits. The hostess tries to maintain her professionalism as she leads you to your table, but you can see the corners of her mouth twitching.

Throughout dinner, you do your best to be as irritating as possible. You chew with your mouth open, talk loudly, and insist on ordering the strangest items on the menu.

“Are you sure you want the pizza?” Heeseung asks, a note of disbelief in his voice.

“Absolutely,” you reply, grinning. “And I think you should try it too!”

Heeseung hesitates but eventually nods. “Sure, why not?”

Here you were, sitting on your bed as you write your story. Typing away and zoning out, it had to be working right? He obviously would be over you by next week. All you needed was one more shove to drive him away soon as possible. Just 5 more days..

YOU PUSH YOUR CART THROUGH the aisles of the grocery store, scanning the shelves for the items on your list. As you reach for a box of cereal, you hear a familiar voice behind you.

“YN?”

You turn to see Heeseung approaching, a smile lighting up his face. “Oh, hi Heeseung,” you say with a smile.

“Nice to see you here,” he says, falling into step beside you.

“Yeah, I just needed to grab a few things,” you reply, feeling a bit flustered by his presence.

Heeseung nods, and for a moment, there’s an awkward silence as you both continue browsing. Suddenly, you realize you can’t reach the item you need on the top shelf.

“Um, Heeseung, do you think you could help me with something?” you ask, feeling a bit embarrassed.

“Of course, what do you need?” he replies, stepping closer.

“I just need to grab that box up there,” you say, pointing to the top shelf.

“Sure thing,” Heeseung says, reaching up to grab the box.

But as he stretches, you accidentally bump into him, causing him to lose his balance. In a split second, you reach out to steady him, but instead, you end up stumbling backward, crashing to the ground on top of him. Your face merely inches from each other.

“I’m sorry about that!” you exclaim, your face burning with embarrassment.

“It’s okay, don’t worry about it,” he says, his cheeks also flushed as he helps you up.

“Um, we should probably get up,” you say, feeling flustered.

“Yeah, definitely,” Heeseung agrees, scrambling to his feet.

You both straighten your clothes and try to regain your composure, but the awkwardness lingers in the air.

“Well, um, thanks for trying to help,” you say, feeling a bit embarrassed.

“Anytime,” Heeseung replies with a sheepish smile. You exchange a quick awkward glance before awkwardly walking back to do your own things.

YOU AND HEESEUNG STEP INTO THE DIMLY LIT MOVIE THEATER, the smell of popcorn filling the air. You’ve been looking forward to this night out, hoping it will help end your plan to drive him away. As you settle into your seats, the lights dim, and the movie begins.

The film is a romantic comedy, and as the story unfolds, you find yourself getting lost in the plot. But when the characters share a kiss on screen, you feel a sudden tension between you and Heeseung.

You glance at him out of the corner of your eye, and you can see that he’s watching you, his expression unreadable. You both look away awkwardly, feeling a flush of embarrassment.

As the movie progresses, the tension between you only grows. You can feel Heeseung’s eyes on you, and you struggle to focus on the screen, your heart pounding in your chest.

Suddenly, as another kiss happens, Heeseung leans in closer to you. You freeze, unsure of what to do. Is he going to kiss you? But then, almost as if on cue, Heeseung leans in closer, his lips hovering just inches from yours. His breath mingles with yours, his warm exhales tickling your skin as he leans in, his lips drawing closer to yours. You can feel the gentle brush of his breath against your mouth, sending shivers down your spine.

Your heart pounds in your chest as you feel the warmth of his breath against your skin. And then, in a heartbeat, he closes the gap between you, his lips pressing softly against yours. It’s a gentle kiss, but hesitant at first, but soon it deepens. You can’t help but respond, your hands finding their way to his shoulders.

You melt into the kiss, losing yourself in the sensation of his lips against yours. When you finally pull away, your heart is racing, and your mind is buzzing with emotions. You meet Heeseung’s gaze, and you can see the same uncertainty reflected in his eyes.

“Wow,” he whispers, his voice barely audible over the sound of the movie.

“Yeah,” you murmur, at a loss for words.

As the movie comes to an end, you both sit in silence, the weight of what just happened hanging in the air. But despite the awkwardness, you can’t shake the feeling that something has shifted between you.

As you leave the theater, you can’t help but replay the kiss in your mind, feeling a sense of warmth and longing that you can’t ignore. And as you walk hand in hand with Heeseung, you realize with a start that maybe, just maybe, you’re falling in love.

AS YOU LIE IN BED THAT NIGHT, the events of the evening replay in your mind. The gentle touch of Heeseung's lips against yours, the warmth of his embrace—it all stuck in your head.

You stare up at the ceiling, think to yourself. Love? It's a word you're not ready to utter, a feeling too intense to comprehend. You try to push the thought aside.

You roll onto your side, pulling the covers tighter around you. You couldn’t be in love? All that effort you put in to get rid of him. It was your 8th day, just two more days. You couldn’t do it anymore. As you drift off to sleep, the question echoes in your mind. Are you falling in love with Heeseung?

THE REALIZATION HITS YOU like a ton of bricks, leaving you feeling breathless. Could it be true? Are you actually falling in love with Heeseung?

The thought consumes you as you go about your day. By the time evening arrives, you can't shake the feeling that you needed to end it.

Summoning every ounce of courage, you pick up your phone and dial your editor's number. When she answers, you get yourself together for the conversation ahead.

"Hey, it's me," you begin, "I need to talk to you about the article."

There's a pause on the other end of the line, and you can almost hear the curiosity in her voice as she responds. "Sure, what's up?"

"I… I can't write it," you admit, the words feeling like a confession. "I just don't feel right about it anymore."

There's a moment of silence before your editor speaks again, her tone firm."No, you're writing it," she says, leaving no room for argument.

"But—" you start to protest, but she cuts you off before you can continue.

"No buts," she insists. "We've already agreed on the topic, and you're the best person for the job. I expect to see the first draft on my desk by the end of the week."

You sigh, feeling defeated. It's clear that your editor isn't going to budge on this issue, and you know that arguing further would be a waste.

"Okay," you say reluctantly, resigning yourself to the task at hand. "I'll get it done."

AS YOU SIT ON YOUR COUCH, trying to make sense of everything that's happened, until you hear Heeseung pick up a call.

“ Heeseung!" Jake's voice crackles through the phone, filled with excitement. "So, have you sealed the deal yet? Win YN over?"

Your heart skips a beat at the mention of your name and you instinctively lean in closer, eager to hear his response. But as you listen, the color drains from your face, and a cold dread settles in the pit of your stomach.

"The bet that I could get YN in 10 days?," Heeseung's voice comes through the phone, his words cutting through the air, "I thought I could, but…"

Your heart shatters. Your knees started to shake. How could you have been so blind? How could you have let yourself fall for someone who was playing a game with your feelings?

Before you can hear the rest of his sentence, you leave the room silently. "I thought I could, but…" The words replay in your head.As the reality sinks in, you realize that you may have just broken your own heart, listening in on a conversation that was never meant for your ears. He played with you. He was using you. You feel like a fool, blindsided by the truth that's been staring you in the face all along.

You walk yourself to the nearest taxi before coming back to your empty apartment. You lie on bed, your palms on your eyes, sobbing quietly. Why should you care? I mean he was just an experiment — right?

THE MORNING SUNLIGHT FILTERS through the curtains as you sit on your bed, thoughts rushing through your mind. The wounds from last night were still raw, as you feel tired and sick. You kew what you have to do. You began to type your last paragraph of the article before submitting it to your editor.

With the article sent, you feel a mix of anxiety and relief. You know the revised piece is honest and raw, reflecting your own experience. But there’s one more thing you need to do to truly move forward.

To: Editor Yeseo

Subject: Resignation Letter

Dear Yeseo,

I am writing to formally resign from my position as a writer, effective immediately. I appreciate the opportunities I have had here and the support from the team, but I must prioritize my well-being at this time.

Thank you for your understanding.

Sincerely, YN

You hit send, feeling an overwhelming amount of pain. Being a writer had been your dream job, but now, it feels like a chapter you need to close. As you sit in your now-quiet apartment, you feel a pang of sadness. The memories of the past few weeks with Heeseung linger, but you push them aside.

You start with your closet, pulling out clothes and sorting them into piles: keep, donate, and toss. You take down the photos and posters from the walls, each one a reminder of the life you’re leaving behind.

Next, you move to the kitchen, packing up dishes, utensils, and small appliances. You wrap everything carefully, methodically, as if each item represents a piece of your heart that you’re trying to protect.

Your phone buzzes with messages from Heeseung, but you ignore them. Making them be left on delivered. You move to the living room, packing up books, DVDs, and mementos. You’re not just packing up your belongings; you’re packing up your old life, preparing to move on and start new.

IN HIS DIMLY LIT APARTMENT, Heeseung sits on the edge of his bed, the glow of his laptop screen casting shadows across his face. His heart pounds in his chest as he opens the email attachment—a document titled "How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days—And Fall in Love in the Process" by [Your Name].

As the page loads, he takes a deep breath, steeling himself for what he's about to read. The cursor hovers over the first paragraph, and with a trembling hand, he begins to scroll down.

Heeseung sits at his desk, his heart pounding in his chest as he reads the article that has just landed in his inbox. With each word, his emotions spiral into a whirlwind of confusion and disbelief.

"When I set out to write this article..."

He reads the opening sentence, his brow furrowing in confusion. What article is this? And why does it sound so familiar?

As he continues to read, the pieces start to fall into place. The description of the article, the unexpected turn of events—it's all too familiar, too painful to ignore.

"I met someone who was supposed to be just a test subject..."

Heeseung's breath catches in his throat as he realizes what he's reading. This is about him. About the bet, about the article he overheard, about everything.

He reads on, his heart pounding louder with each passing sentence:

When I set out to write this article, the plan was simple: follow a set of steps to make a guy dump me in ten days. It was supposed to be a fun, light-hearted challenge—a piece to entertain our readers. But life, as it often does, had other plans.

I met someone who was supposed to be just a test subject. But as the days went by, something unexpected happened. The more I tried to push him away, the closer we became. Every awkward moment, every forced argument, every silly plan to drive him away only brought us closer together.

I found myself laughing at his jokes, looking forward to our time together, and, against all odds, feeling a connection I hadn't anticipated. What started as a challenge turned into a journey of discovery—not just about him, but about myself.

I realized that love isn't something you can plan or control. It sneaks up on you when you least expect it, breaking down the walls you've carefully built around your heart. And sometimes, the person you're trying to lose ends up being the one you can't imagine living without.

So, dear readers, this isn't the article I set out to write. It's not about foolproof ways to make a guy dump you. Instead, it's a story about how, in the process of trying to push someone away, I found myself falling in love. It's messy, it's unexpected, and it's beautiful.

Life has a funny way of turning our plans upside down. And sometimes, the best stories are the ones we never meant to write.

He closes the magazine, his mind spinning with thoughts of you. He knows he needs to find you, to talk to you, to tell you how he feels. He can't let this opportunity slip away, can't let the chance to be with you slip through his fingers.

With a sense of determination, Heeseung rises from his seat, his heart pounding in his chest. He knows he has to find you, to tell you how he feels, to see if maybe, just maybe, you feel the same way too.

HEESEUNG'S HEART RACES AS HE RUSHES THROUGH THE STREETS, his mind consumed with thoughts of you. He knows he needs to find you, to talk to you, to tell you everything.

As he rounds the corner, he sees your apartment building looming ahead. His steps quicken, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps. He's so close now, so close to finally telling you how he feels.

But as he reaches your building, his heart sinks at the sight before him. He sees movers loading boxes into a truck parked outside, and he realizes with a sinking feeling that you're moving away.

Heeseung's chest tightens with panic, his mind racing as he searches for a solution. He can't let you slip away, can't let this chance to be with you slip through his fingers. He rushes toward the building, his thoughts jumbled all up.

As he bursts through the door, he sees you standing in the hallway, a suitcase at your feet, tears streaming down your face. His heart breaks at the sight of your sadness, and he knows he needs to act fast.

"Y/N!" he calls out, his voice echoing through the empty hallway. You turn to face him, your eyes widening in surprise at the sight of him standing there.

"Heeseung?" you whisper, your voice trembling with emotion. "What are you doing here?"

Heeseung takes a deep breath, steeling himself for what he's about to say. "I need to talk to you," he says, his voice filled with urgency. "There's something I need to tell you, something I should have told you a long time ago."

He steps closer to you, his eyes never leaving yours. "I was part of the bet," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. "But it was never about winning a thousand dollars or proving anything to Jake. It was about proving something to myself—to prove that I could be the kind of guy who deserves someone like you."

Tears well up in your eyes as you listen to his confession, your heart aching with a mix of sadness and hope. "Heeseung…" you whisper, reaching out to touch his hand.

But Heeseung doesn't wait for you to say anything more. With a surge of courage, he leans in and presses his lips to yours, pouring all of his love and longing into the kiss.

As Heeseung's lips meet yours in that soft, tender kiss, his hands gently find their way to your waist, pulling you closer to him.

You feel the heat of his body against yours, the closeness intensifying the sensation of his lips moving against yours. His touch is gentle yet possessive, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin as if memorizing every curve of your body.

You pull away, staring and laughing for a moment.

"I love you," you whisper softly.

"I love you more," he smiles back, quietly leaning his forehead against yours to quickly catch his lips on yours again. Maybe writing that article wasn't so bad after all.

672 notes · View notes

2smolbeans · 27 days

Text

Another yandere thought I had before going to bed:

I remember reading a concept from a yandere blog here on tumblr about a company/organization for yandere's to aid them when they are pursuing their darling. So after remembering it, a thought popped up in my head.

What if there was a company/organization that helped the darling's escape their tormentors?

Edit: This is based on @yanderemommabean 's posts which you can read over here and here!

Like imagine:

You look in amazement as the video starts to play, your eyes sparkling as the advertisement begins to play. Immediately, the voice of a woman is heard as the advertisement starts..

Advertiser:"Hi there! You must be in need of help if you're seeing this! Given that you followed the specific instructions to find this program, I want to welcome you! Now..I want to ask you this.."

Advertiser: "Are you someone who has a pesky little admirer that just can't seem to be shaken off? Perhaps their crush on you has begun to take a disturbing turn for the worse.."

Advertiser: "Murder, stalking, threats, power imbalances, attempted kidnapping, forced marriage contracts, and more! Anything you've found yourself caught in thanks to this admirer! Here at 'A Helping Friend', we can give you a hand!"

Advertiser: "Our help includes..Faking your death, a new identity, exterminating the pesky 'vermin' out of your life, and whatever ideas you and one our specialized coordinators who you will be paired with can think of!"

Advertiser: "For the cheap and gracious price of $360, we could offer our services to you! And don't you worry, every cent of what you've paid us will go into helping another person who is in the same exact position as you!"

Advertiser: "Trust me, I was once in your shoes. I know what it's like to fear every day for your life, to stay awake at night- and wonder if the worst was to come. But ever since I faced my fears and contacted 'A Helping Friend', I was able to live my life again! And I know you'll be able to as well."

Advertiser: "So please. Call this number and we'll promise to help you out as soon as possible! And if money is an issue, it won't be for us."

Advertiser: "So call now at ***-****-****! Trust me, whenever you're in need, 'A Helping Friend' is what you need'!"

Near the end of the video, the number is plastered bold on the screen as the small text is written at the bottom, letting you know that all your information and data are secure and anonymous. You write down the number in a rush, scrambling to get a pen and paper as you look at your phone. Getting the number, you let out a shaky sigh as you stare repeatedly at the number on the paper and the one at the screen - making sure you got it correctly.

A/N: I'll definitely dabble more onto this thought/concept in the future. Also, as I post this, I am currently looking for the og poster of the yan company helper fic that I read from. Like I am SCROLLING through my likes and account looking for it - so if anyone knows who the writer is, can you let me know please 😭

I would really like to reblog their work and credit them for the idea I had based on it--

Edit: I was able to find the og poster thanks to an anon!

_______________________

108 notes · View notes

assortedgoods123 · 1 month

Text

Severus Snape x chatty!reader Soulmate AU

Writers block with stardew valley stuff so im trying something totally different to shake the cobwebs loose

do ppl still need to say they dont fuck with jkr or is it a given at this point? (genuine question)

*meet-cute!!!*

*this reader has titties and gender neutral pronouns*

Walking quickly, your eyes are glued to your phone as you round the corner of a street in London. You are already running late for a meeting but you absolutely refuse to deal with your coworker's bullshit without something caffeinated in your hands.

Just as you are about to look up and find the entrance to the cafe you frequent, you slam into something. You squeak out a nervous gasp when you realize it wasn't a lamp post, but a person.

"Ohmygosh I am so so so sorry!" You say, frantically digging in your bag for your horde of cocktail napkins. Your eyes flit nervously over the stranger, realizing you're both covered in his drink order. Dabbing at his torso with your little napkins, his silence makes you about a thousand times more anxious.

"I really am so so sorry, I wasn't looking where I was going, it's totally my fault." You stammer out, glancing at up at his face while you pat pat pat his chest with your napkins.

Your poor little heart, already beating like a hummingbird in your chest, leaps into your throat at the sight of the hottest fucking guy you've ever seen in your life. The kind of hottie you would chase down the street to throw yourself at. You've done very embarrassing things to get a chance to know people who are far less good-looking than this man in front of you now. And because you were too preoccupied with your phone, you're almost certain you won't be walking away with his number.

And he's frozen, staring at you with a weird look on his face. Definitely the worst first impression you could have possibly made.

Never one for fits of grace, you frown and say, "People as attractive as you should come with an escape lever." You throw the soggy napkins in the trash nearby and add, "I hate embarrassing myself in front of hot people."

Still not getting a response, you turn and look up at him. "You gonna say anything handsome?"

Severus Snape has never been rendered this speechless in his entire life.

The day the courts ruled him not guilty enough for Azkaban was certainly shocking, but even that paled in comparison to what he was experiencing now.

He was leaving his favorite coffee shop when he bumped into a muggle. People are clumsy, it happens. But then, instead of apologizing and running away from the tall scary man, they started talking to him. The sweetest, softest voice Severus had ever heard, telling him he's... hot. Attractive. Handsome.

Every single time anyone has ever shown interest in him in public, Severus has immediately and viciously shut them down. Far better to come across as an asshole upfront than to be humiliated and heartbroken later.

But now, he had this sweet little muggle running their warm hands all over his chest in a matter of seconds. Before he could snarl at them to back off, he looked down and, well.

What was already a very low-cut top was now soaked with tea, becoming slightly translucent. Half of Severus was now laser-focused on the stretch of the damp fabric over your tits, while the other half was screaming at him to get a hold of himself.

You asked him a question, he realizes. Jerking his head around to face you properly, he blurts out, "Huh?"

Oh he's doomed, he thinks.

You gasp and grab his arm, "Oh no I'm already so late I need to go right now but listen, here's a bit of money to buy yourself a new drink it's the least I can do I'm so so sorry for running into you and dashing away but I really am late it was nice to meet you bye!"

Hustling away, you sigh and hope you run into him again. Such a shame you couldn't stay and flirt longer. Checking your watch, you growl and break into a jog. Fuck this day, you think.

"Fuck this day" Severus mutters, before heading down an alley to dissipate home. Just like him to meet someone who actually thinks he's attractive only for them to be so late they have to literally run.

It was only a fraction of a moment, but Severus knows it'll be the thing keeping him from falling down a pit of despair some nights.

Hating himself as he does it, he sniffs the money you handed him. It smells like your perfume. He sets it aside on his dresser.

Pathetic virgin, he thinks.

Later that night, however, he wakes with a gasp. "Idiot idiot idiot!" He snarls, yanking the covers away from himself. "You were so focused on them you forgot to check your soul mark" He glowers at himself in the mirror before lifting his tongue. There, on the underside, is a swirl unique to him and his soulmate.

His heart skips a beat when he sees it glitter in the dingy bathroom lighting. It's activated. And the only people he spoke to yesterday were you and the exhausted-looking barista.

He thinks of the look on your face when you saw him, how you pouted so cutely when you threw the napkins away. The way your clothes stretched over your body.

I've gone mad, he thinks, as he throws on some clothes and dissipates to an alley in London.

I am literally insane, you think.

You've been sitting on a bench outside the coffee shop you almost went in yesterday for about half an hour now. It's too early for anyone else to be up and about yet, it's about 3 in the morning. You woke up last night realizing you didn't check your soul mark after meeting that stupidly hot guy. Sure enough, it was activated.

You twist your fingers anxiously, hoping and hoping that he will show up eventually. You'll be so sad if it's not him.

Suddenly, you hear an odd noise in a nearby alley. Nervously, you run your hands along your pepper spray.

Turning your head to look, you see him. Disheveled and breathing heavy, he locks eyes with you and storms over.

Feeling slightly lightheaded, you rush towards him and lift your tongue up so he can see. Tears of happiness and overwhelm run down your face when he nods and shows you his activated mark.

"Can I...?" You open your arms, asking for a hug.

Hesitating, he steps into your embrace, standing like a stiff board while you sniffle into his shirt and squeeze him tight.

You have a good feeling about this.

(not sure how to end it so ill call it here 🤗)

#severus snape #severus snape x reader #soulmate au #meet cute

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cryobabyy · 12 days

Text

Realistic predictions/analysis for the dynamic between Syd and Carmy for s3 and what the writers will potentially do with Claire.

Pls keep in note that my sydcarmy brain was OFF and the Film/Television production student brain was ON when I wrote this. I am trying to imagine their potential romance in the most realistic and grounded way possible don't be mad at me please I'm sensitive sjhdsajdsjdhsfafafjskdlfh okay lets get into it

Carmy is back in a high-end kitchen environment, which means toxic ocd perfectionist Carmy is back because he has yet to deconstruct that part of himself

that being said, he wants that star, not only because it'll justify the pain of gutting his dead brother's restaurant and perhaps soothe his self-loathing, but also because Sydney wants it- and Carmy wants to keep Sydney. He wants to see her get what she wants.

Carmy still has the toxic mindset that success is defined by how much you suffered for it, and how much pain you've endured. He is back in an environment where he will forever be chasing perfection that doesn't exist. He has an incessant need for control that makes him difficult to work with.

Carmen holds the staff, especially Sydney, to impossible standards of perfection

IMPORTANT TO NOTE THAT CARMY IS A VERY EXTREME PERSON

HE WILL BE PLAGUED BY BLACK AND WHITE THINKING THIS ENTIRE SEASON (as opposed to the wishy-washy, one-foot-in-one-foot-out vibe we got last season)

Enter the partnership contract lol

To Carmy, the contract is a testament to his commitment to Sydney. He would have a professional and legal obligation to operate at the highest standard. You have my full focus, and I have yours. He's basically trying to correct his mistakes in s2 in the most extreme way.

The problem is that Sydney knows this means she would be legally and professionally bound to Carmen. It means she would have to subscribe to his toxic standards and warped ideas of success to uphold her end of the contract.

Sydney will be forced to reevaluate if the path to success Carmy has laid out will be worth the suffering. We saw last season that the stress literally made her vomit. She is asking herself: does it have to be like this? Is this really the only way?

Sydney will be presented with alternative opportunities because of the attention she's received from being professionally associated with Carmy.

They will become increasingly tempting as The Bear continues to bring out the worst in Carmy

Maybe Carmy catches wind of the attention Sydney has been getting, which he thinks explains why she has been stalling signing the contract.

Carmy feels rejected. Of course, he doesn't realize it's rejection that he's feeling. He confronts her from a professional angle. It devolves into a fight because he'll probably end up lashing out.

"This is what you wanted! I'm giving you what you want!"

It is, in fact, not what Sydney wants. LMFAO

Sydney, of course, wants Carmy. But she wants a version of Carmy that doesn't exist, and she's not sure he ever will.

Sydney's relationship with failure is important for her character. She initially wanted the success Carmen has.

At the end of s3 she realizes she just wants Carmy. As a friend and a creative partner (and in my most unhinged fantasies a lover :P). She wants the Carmy she gets when they're riffing off each other's ideas in his kitchen. She doesn't want the tunnel vision perfection machine version of himself when he's in his chef whites. She grows to resent that version.

s3 wraps up with their relationship on rocky terms

Best case scenario, Carmy tries to change

worst-case scenario, Sydney steps back from the bear

CLAIRE PREDICTIONS

Carmy operates at extremes. He either pursues a personal life or his professional life. In his mind, it is impossible to have both.

Claire and Sydney/The Bear are on opposite ends of the spectrum

If he commits to Claire, he can't commit to the restaurant

If he commits to Sydney/The Bear, he can't commit to Claire

Instead of trying to find balance, Carmy throws himself into Sydney/The Bear

Fak obviously observes that this makes Camry worse, and decides to talk to Claire to suggest some sort of contact between the two. He probably thinks this might keep Carmy from nosediving further. I don't have any guesses for the context of their conversation though. It could be anything. I think it would be hilarious if Fak hurts himself during dinner service and has to go to the ER and the convo unfolds that way lol.

Meanwhile, Carmy thinks he's doing the right thing by presenting his most extreme and professional self to Sydney because he thinks it's what she wants. He wants to give her his full focus.

What Sydney actually wants is fucking BALANCE. Which is exactly what Carmy NEEDS, but doesn't think is possible.

Sydney potentially walks away to find it elsewhere with someone else.

Carmy is angsty about it, obviously.

Carmy and Claire will probably reconcile, before or after his potential falling out with Sydney

If they do get back together, I don't think it's sustainable for Carmy. They both have very demanding careers, and Claire triggers trauma associated with his past. They might like each other, but they are incompatible, IMO.

I do think Sydney and Carmy will end up together eventually tho lol. Eventually, Carmy will realize that Sydney is his balance. The problem is that Carmy currently is incapable of providing Sydney balance. But if he learns that he can be that for her, he might realize that he wants her beyond professional partnership. Fingers crossed lol.

#the bear fx #sydney x carmy #carmy x sydney #Listen #I think it's gonna happen #but we'll have to wait for it #they both need to figure out what they want #my bad if u read the version of this post with all the spelling and syntax errors i forgot to proof read before i published :P

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spiderbussy · 1 year

Text

The Hating Game

Dylan O’Brien x Reader

WARNINGS: mentions of sex, steamy moments (but no smut), swearing, lots of anger/hatred, i think that’s all??

i wrote this a whole year ago and dug it up from deep in the drafts and it’s not entirely awful so i figured i might as well publish??? also edited whilst watching some killer shark movie LMFAOO so it might be a lot worse than i think jshsjs,, quick PSA tho: i dont rlly feel comfy writing for real people anymore, and i don’t like writing smut, so whilst this is relatively steamy there’s no actual smut in it :) hopefully someone enjoys lmfao

there is also a high likelihood that i will be deleting this soon bc i am Embarrassed

Being mortal fucking enemies with your co-worker is not exactly what you envisioned your first serious acting job to entail, but no one can have everything, you suppose. Like, it makes sense, from a realistic (OK, pessimistic) standpoint that getting hired to be a main character on a popular teen TV show with little to no acting experience and the only thing to your name being an apartment you’re about to get evicted out of for not paying your bills is exceedingly lucky. Like, come on, what are the fucking odds? And everyone knows that something so good is bound to be followed by something bad. In your case, something you consider the worst thing that could possibly happen to a person, and his name is Dylan O’Brien.

First off, you know. Dylan O’Brien. Every teenage girls wet dream. He’s a conventionally attractive white guy who respects women because he doesn’t actively spit on them! (You’re not saying he’s sexist, because you’re pretty sure that’s not why he hates you, it’s just because he’s tasteless and a dick.)

Here’s the thing, though. Ever since you started this job, he’s had it out for you. Like, genuinely, he’s fucking evil and is trying to ruin your life. Why is this? You have no clue, only that you hate him back equally as much, if not more.

What really sucks, though, is that this is the guy who’s playing your love interest. At first, this wasn’t even really a problem for you (only to your controlling ex-boyfriend — good fucking riddance, by the way), but it became one when you overheard Dylan actively begging the shows head writer and producer, Jeff, to cancel that plot and then storming off like a complete and utter wankstain when he was denied.

Your character's first kiss scene has had to be filmed at least a million times by now, and the crew is starting to really get pissed off by it, which, like, fair enough, you are too, but it’s not your fault you and Dylan can’t even pretend to be romantically interested in each other for five minutes! The scene itself isn’t even the problem, you’ve nailed that, it’s the kiss. The gentle, loving kiss your characters are supposed to share, and Jeff is an asshole and every time he’d yell at you and Dylan you’d both just get more and more pissed at each other, and the kiss would get progressively more and more heated and angry with every retake.

That’s where you’re at now, bordering on eating each other’s faces (excuse you while you yack!) as Jeff yells “cut!” for the fifty-millionth time. You and Dylan instantly spring apart, awkwardly avoiding eye contact as Jeff sighs. Using the back of your hand, you wipe your mouth, only to pull it back to find blood. Literal fucking blood.

“Did you bite me, you fucking pervert?” you whisper-yell at Dylan so that the crew aren’t prone to any more unprofessional behavior you exhibit. The stinging in your lip grows more profound, and you scoff. “Oh my fucking God, you bit me.”

Dylan smirks, shrugging his shoulders as he glares back at you tenfold. He’s oozing this nonchalant smugness, and you feel more pissed at him than ever.

“How the hell was that ‘gentle’ or ‘loving’!?” you continue quietly yelling at him as Jeff talks with the rest of the crew, his hands rubbing over the creases on his forehead.

Dylan’s smirk falls, as he glares at you with incredulity, “How was pulling my hair like, five minutes ago, any more ‘gentle’ or ‘loving’?!” he spits back.

Part of you wants to admit that that was genuinely an accident, but, like, whatever. Dylan would probably take it the wrong way, interpreting it as you being kinky and attracted to him. “OK,” you say instead, “act like you didn’t moan when I did that, you freak.”

“I moaned in pain,” he argues, eyebrows scrunched and a fire in his eyes as he unconsciously steps towards you.

You open your mouth, ready to retort with another remark with the intent to insult him, but Jeff’s voice quickly cuts the two of you off. “OK, guys, it’s been a long day but we’re gonna try it again,” he breathes out, rubbing his hands together before he suddenly stops, eyes narrowing in on your lip. “Jesus, OK, what the hell, your lip is bleeding Y/N.”

“Sorry about that,” Dylan smirks, poorly feigning being apologetic. And this guy’s supposed to be an actor, Jesus Christ.

“Right,” Jeff sighs, so obviously done with the both of you as you glare daggers at Dylan, which only seems to widen his smirk. “Um, OK, so this time… Dylan, try not to eat Y/N, OK? And, guys, try not to step on each other’s feet… or kick each other… the camera may not be able to see down there, but it shows, and we cab. Um, so, both of you…. just… gentle and loving, OK? This is supposed to be a sweet moment, your characters are comforting each other…. God, OK, let’s just try and get this over with.”

Admittingly, when Jeff speaks, you aren’t even really listening. You’re trying your best to hide the fact that you’re elbowing Dylan behind your back, and he’s aggressively standing on your toes. The both of you are glaring at each other from the corners of your eyes, paying Jeff little attention.

“And, reset!” Jeff calls, the both of you getting back into position. Dylan seemingly can’t help himself, though, because he steps on your heel as you walk away from him. Fucking asshole. You curse him out in your head as you try to hide your wince and sit on Stiles’ bed. He just always has to have the last word. It’s fucking childish.

You’re not paying attention as Jeff continues to call to the crew, ready for a retake. Instead, you’re glaring straight ahead, and Dylan is glaring back. The tension between the two of you dissipates quickly as Jeff yells “Action!” though, and you pretend to be upset as tears fill your eyes. You sniffle and Dylan walks over, slowly sinking himself down next to you. There’s a palpable distance between the two of you, one that’s closing slowly as Dylan, in character, awkwardly shuffles towards you, fidgeting all the while.

“What are you doing?” your character asks, looking at Dylan (Stiles) with soft, furrowed brows.

“Uhhh,” he stutters, “I just—trying to comfort you?”

“Oh,” your character says. “Right. I’m OK, though. Sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize. It’s alright.”

There’s silence for a moment, enough to be considered a moment too long, one that makes the air awkward. You aren’t looking at Jeff but you assume he’s relatively pleased, although this isn’t the part you and Dylan have been struggling with. It’s coming up, though.

Your breath audibly halters as Dylan’s tender fingers brush your hair out of your face, tucking it behind you ear. His character is closer than you thought, as you turn to face him. His fingers are lingering in your hair, coming to hesitantly cup the side of your face as you meet his gaze. There’s barely even three centimeters between your faces, and your character's eyes are flicking down to his lips constantly, as though she can’t help herself.

“Can I…” Dylan‘s charachter trails off, gulping. “Can I—is it alright if I kiss—?”

You cut him off, quickly leaning in to place a peck on his lips.

“…You,” he breathes out, his eyes widened as he looks thoroughly perplexed.

Your character bites her lip, looking down at her hands before shooting up. “Sorry. I’m—I probably shouldn’t have done that. Sorry. I’ll go.” As quickly as you stand up, though, Dylan grabs your hand.

“Don’t be sorry,” he says, and when you turn around to face him his hands are cupping your cheeks again and you’re kissing. It’s gentle and soft until his finger tugs a strand of your hair, and then all of a sudden your hands are in Dylan’s hair roaming through them and tugging and, next thing you know, you’re tonguing and Dylan’s hand is wrapped around your throat.

“OK, cut!” Jeff screeches, and the two of you practically scramble away from each other. “What the hell, guys? You were doing so well until then. I just… Let’s take another five, I guess. No, actually, screw it, we’ll pick this back up tomorrow.”

Jeff storms off, and not only are you pissed at Dylan now, you’re ashamed. The both of you have been acting unprofessional all day, just because Dylan is a fucking child. If he gets you fired… You’re gonna kill him. Fucking murder him. Shit on his mutilated corpse.

Glaring at him, you shove his side as you storm off to go back to your trailer and calm down. You need to sleep because tomorrow is an early shoot and it’s already late, and now you probably won’t be able to because you’re pissed and stressed and worried.

Unfortunately for you, there’s a pattern of thudding footsteps on the ground before Dylan catches up to you. “Jesus, can you slow down?” he rasps. “What the hell did I even do now?”

“Are you fucking serious, O’Brien?” you whirl around, only to be met with him much closer than you anticipated. “I could get fired ‘cause of your immature ass.”

“Oh, my immature ass?” he scoffs. “Do you even hear yourself?”

With a roll of your eyes, you turn around and continue on your merry way to your trailer. You want to get away from Dylan, desperately, before you end up punching him, but he doesn’t seem to be getting the hint and is hot on your heels.

“You’re the one always calling me a dick and shit, insulting me, starting stuff. I mean, I have bruises on my back from you elbowing me just a minute ago.” You’re at your trailer now, after blocking out Dylan’s ranting in your ear, but you only just open the door before he continues, “What, you mad ‘cause no one else ever dishes back what you put out? Sorry not everyone just accepts your word as gospel, princess.”

“First of all, fuck you,” you spit. You’re giving him the attention and reaction he wants, but you don’t even care. You’re that pissed off. “Second of all, me, the princess? Holy shit, O’Brien, you’re delusional. You had a go at me today because I ate the last mac ‘n cheese, even though your name wasn’t on it. You think everything belongs to you because everybody loves you. News flash, it doesn’t, and they don’t. They just suck up to you because you’re a rich white guy with an army of teenage girls behind you.”

“Sounds like you’re just jealous to me,” Dylan shrugs, trying to pretend he’s unaffected but the stiffness in his shoulders is entirely obvious. “I mean, come on, let’s be honest here, you’re used to getting everything, to being the favourite, but the moment someone else gets attention you go fucking haywire. Or maybe you’re just in love with me. You say you hate me but, come on, everyone knows there’s a thin line between love and hate.”

“Me? Love you?” You scoff, laughing aggressively. “Only one of us choked the other as they shoved their tongue down their throat today.”

“Choked you?” Dylan snorts. “You wish. I merely placed my hand in the wrong place. It was an accident, Y/L/N. You know, like you.”

“Oh, good one. You really got me there, Dyl.” The sarcasm is practically oozing out of your every pore at this point. “And your hand was around my neck. How do you accidentally do that?”

“I was aiming for your other cheek, but you were tugging on my hair so much I could barely fucking see,” he retorts.

“Oh, sure. You were aiming for my cheek and you just accidentally slipped your hand right like this,” you say, sliding your hand around Dylan’s throat to demonstrate, lightly pushing him against the wall.

“Yeah, maybe like how you accidentally kept going like this,” Dylan says, his eyes narrowed into slits as he stares straight into yours, his fingers sliding through your hair before gripping and yanking.

“I hate you,” you breathe, your gazes re-aligning. The distance between the two of you is minimal at this point, and there’s an angry hornets nest in your stomach that you blame on your insatiable anger and hatred of this man in front of you.

“Fight me,” he spits, eyes boring into yours and not breaking contact for even a second.

“Oh, you wanna fight?” You challenge, mocking him.

“Fuck you,” he spits again, violently frustrated.

“Oh, you wanna fuck?” You were supposed to say it with a laugh, but the distance between the two of you is so small, and your voice sounds so quiet, and his eyes are looking at yours like that, and it suddenly sounds so reasonable… The two of you are kissing, but it doesn’t feel like kissing. It feels like more. It doesn’t start gentle and slow, like the ones you were doing for the camera earlier, it starts violent and angry as you communicate every ounce of hatred from one body to another.

Dylan’s foot juts out, his hands sliding down your body as he kicks the door to the trailer shut. Immediately, you push him up against the closed door, hands sliding into his hair as his hands come up to cup your cheeks with vigor.

“I knew you were into that,” he groans, smirking.

“Shut the fuck up,” you retort, forcing his head back down to yours so your lips can re-meet. His laugh cuts off into a moan as you pull his hair, and he suddenly flips the two of you around, parting your legs with his foot as his hands cup your ass.

The next day, you drag yourself into hair and makeup, ashamed. You know Sam, your makeup artist, is gonna want to kill you for all the goddamn hickies on your neck. Honest to god, it looks like you’ve just crawled out a leech-infested lake.

“Jesus Christ, girl,” Sam gasps as you take your usual seat. “You get mauled or something?”

The woman lifts your hair as she peers at your marked-up neck, assessing the damage. She seems more amused than pissed off, thankfully, but it does nothing to quell your embarrassment. You just hope you didn’t mark Dylan up as much as he did you, or else someone might just put the pieces together. You do not want people thinking your standards are low enough to sleep with him—they might think you’re some sex-crazed satanist if they know you fucked the devil last night.

“Yeah, something like that,” you sigh, irritation lining your tone. It just so happens that, at that moment, the trailer door opens and in comes Dylan. Your eyes meet immediately, just as they always have done when the two of you have found yourselves in the same room. You glare, but you find it’s half-hearted and, unlike usual, he looks away and goes over to his own seat, seemingly searching for something.

Huh.

“You gotta tell me who did this to you,” Sam whistles, still in shock, apparently. “Slip ‘em my number, maybe.”

You can’t see Dylan entirely, his back half-turned to you, but you see the corner of his lips turn up as he tries to suppress a smirk.

“You know what they say about guys who put on a show,” you shrug, eyes narrowed in Dylan’s direction. He’s pretending to search for his phone still, but you saw him slip it into his pocket already. Nosey fucker. “It’s a little somethin’ called overcompensation.”

Sam lets out a loud cackle, turning to grab something out of her bag, and Dylan, done with pretending to look for his phone, whirls his head around to give you a subtle glare and a raised eyebrow, a smug look on his face like he knows you’re lying. (Which you, very begrudgingly, have to admit to yourself that you are.)

You hate Dylan. Despise him, even. More than you’ve ever hated anyone; you can rationalize why last night happened easily enough. The amount of hatred and tension and the pressure from Jeff to get that scene right all blew up. That much emotion had to be exhausted somewhere, and, well, it was. It was a blip in the timeline, some kind of glitch in the matrix, but it happened and there’s an easy explanation. What there’s not an easy explanation for, however, is why you liked it so much. Why you’re lying, trying to pretend it wasn’t nearly as good as it was, trying to pretend you’re not still thinking about how it felt to kiss him and kiss him and kiss him… There is no logical explanation for that.

In fact, it’s entirely illogical, the mushy way you feel inside when you met his eyes, covered with a glare that you wish had half the hate in it that it normally does. It’s weird and it’s wrong, because you’re not supposed to have butterflies when you think of the way his hand had caressed your face, the way he ran his fingers through your hair, the way his arms felt, wrapped around you. You’re supposed to be revolted.

He’s smug and he’s pompous and you cannot stand him, let alone stand the thought of kissing him. And yet, although you hate the fact that the thought exists, you yearn for it. You find yourself excited, even, to go to set and get yelled at by Jeff because you simply cannot help yourselves when it comes to one another. You hate it, every second of it, every second of him. You think you hate him so much you might actually love him. And with the wink he sends over his shoulder as he leaves the trailer, eyes dark as they peer at the hickies Sam is frantically trying to cover up, you think he does, too.

#dylan obrien #dylan obrien imagine #dylan obrien x reader #stiles stilinski #teen wolf #dylan o'brien #dylan o'brien imagine #dylan o'brien x reader

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chososchalupa · 3 months

Note

HII is it alr to ask for jealous ranpo x reader😭😭

Basically the reader has this friend and calls them "sweetheart" and stuff (like how alastor treats charlie idk if you watched that) and steals her attention, love you🔥

ofc! sorry this took so long to get to, i've had the worst writers block,, ilysm! Hope you enjoy <3

Pleasure to meet you

contents,, F!Reader x Ranpo, slightly toxic!Ranpo, splash of Hazbin Hotel references (watch it, its so good), fluffy ending <3 not proofread ofc

WC- 821

You sat in a booth at your favorite cafe listening to your boyfriend and coworkers laugh and talk loudly, nothing was out of the ordinary until you heard your name being called from a familiar voice. You spun your head around to see an old friend from your previous job giving you a bright smile. You quickly got up from your spot and ran over to wrap your arms around him.

“How have you been, dear?” He asked, wrapping his arms tightly around you.

“I’ve been great! This new job is really fun. I’ve made tons of friends and even-”

“A boyfriend, I see” He laughed, staring over your shoulder.

You looked over to see Ranpo glaring intensely at the two of you. You gave him a small smile before turning back around.

“He can get a little jealous sometimes. Come on, I’ll introduce you” You smiled, dragging him with you back to your table. “This is Dazai, Yosano and last but certainly not least, this is my boyfriend, Ranpo”

Your friend gave a smile to everyone before going to shake Ranpos hand, “Pleasure to meet you”

Ranpo gave a fake smile, “Quite”

Your friend gave a small chuckle before looking back to you, “I must get going now but we should get together if you’re free this evening?”

You agreed and gave another small hug before waving goodbye and sitting back in your seat besides Ranpo.

“Well he seems pleasant” Dazai smiled

“Oh yeah. He seems great” Ranpo muttered, his words dripping with sarcasm.

You rolled your eyes at his pettiness before excusing yourself, “I have to get back to the office. Kunikida has been blowing up my phone about an unfinished report.”

・❥・

You assumed Ranpo would be back to normal by the time he made his way back to the office, but you were incredibly mistaken. Despite his fake smiles, he would barely speak a word to you.

“Did I do something wrong?” You asked, stepping into the elevator beside him at the end of the day.

“No” He responded, keeping his responses as short as possible.

The walk home was silent, the only sounds being your soft footsteps and Ranpo sighing, clearly trying to show he was upset without actually saying it.

Once you both were inside your home, you spun around to look up at him with your arms crossed.

“Yes?” He asked, his emerald eyes staring down at you.

“Why do you keep pouting? Ever since I saw my old friend you’ve been acting jealous!”

“Did you ever think maybe I am jealous?” He asked, blinking slowly.

Your eyes widened, “Of what?!”

“I don’t like him” He responded, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“Why?”

“He’s tall, he’s handsome. You clearly enjoy being around him. I just don’t want him to take you from me and he’s trying to!” Ranpo explained, his bottom lip jutting out in a small pout as he finished speaking.

“He’s certainly not trying to take me from you, my love. I promise”

“Yeah? And how do I know that?”

“Because Ranpo, He-” You started but were instantly cut off by your cell phone ringing.

Ranpo looked down at the caller ID before scoffing, “Of course” he sighed, seeing your friend from earlier calling.

You glared at him before answering the phone on speaker,

“Hello, darling!” He started, causing Ranpo to glare towards your phone. “I unfortunately have to cancel our plans tonight, something has come up with work” You glanced up to your boyfriend, seeing a small smile form on his lips, “But I would love to invite you and Ranpo over for tea this week. My partner and I would love to have you”

You watched as the color drained from Ranpo’s face, causing you to let out a small giggle, “We would love to! I miss both of you”

“Wonderful! I will message you when we have a set time. It was lovely seeing you today”

You quickly finished up your conversation, hanging up the phone and glancing back towards Ranpo.

“As I was saying, he already has a partner. And even if he didn’t, I will only ever love you. You make me happier than any person on this earth” You smiled, hugging your boyfriend tightly as he sighed.

“I’m sorry I was wrong. I didn’t mean to get so jealous” He spoke, pulling you tighter to his chest.

“You were what? Could you say that again?”

“No.” He replied with a small laugh. “Can we go cuddle?”

“Of course,” You smiled, pulling away from the hug. “I’ll get snacks, Go put on a movie”

Ranpos eyes lit up, “I love you so much” He spoke, kissing your forehead before turning towards the living room to put on a movie.

You smiled as you watched him walk away, you felt so lucky to have him, even if he was an idiot sometimes.

#bungo stray dogs #bungo stray dogs imagine #bungo stray dogs x reader #bsd x reader #bsd fluff #bungo stray dogs fluff #ranpo x reader #ranpo edogawa #ranpo fluff #bsd ranpo

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sugarcloudsky · 1 year

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Hi! Welcome to the cookie run x reader community! Here you'll find so many amazing fics, writers, and anons like myself! I am personally a big fan of cookie run x reader stuff and I saw you and thought I'd give you a request and see what your writing is like!

I noticed how you prefer writing for male characters and lucky for you...my top two favs are males lol! (Clotted cream and affogato!)

So I was thinking....may I request am affogato x a shy, sweet reader? Like the reader is an absolute bean?

Again, welcome and I hope you like the people and anon and other writers here!

「The Sweetest Medicine」

character: affogato cookie

wc: 1.1k

cws: none

first request done, i really hope you like it!! thank you for the kind welcome, i appreciate it >_< this rlly came out longer than i expected,,

Early morning hours were always a thing Affogato Cookie quite disliked. The bleary gray sky served to always dampen his mood, and he sometimes found himself longing for the day the Dark Cacao kingdom may just one day see a sunny morning. He sighs, running a hand through his hair. He was too tired to deal with that miserable excuse of a king today. For once, he just wanted to lay in bed all day. Oh, to be able to have an entire day to himself, being able to sit alone and eat all the sweet confectioneries he could ever want—

A knock at his door interrupted his fantasies.

“…Sir Affogato Cookie? Are you awake?”

Normally, he wouldn’t have sprung up from his soft mattress so quickly, but perhaps this case was a bit special. He quickly straightened his hair before replying in the same sugary voice the cookies of the kingdom was so used to hearing, “I’ll be right out.”

After a few moments of changing out of his sleep attire and fixing himself up, he slides open the door to his chambers. There, he meets you waiting for him. He carefully scans your figure, taking in your nervous body language. He watches as you entirely avoid eye contact with him, as well as noting that you are obviously hiding something behind your back with your two hands.

“My, my, quite the lovely sight, even in these early morning hours. What brings you to my chambers so early, hm?”

His compliment caught you entirely off guard, causing your face to burn and the speech you had planned in your head to completely dissipate. You try to speak, but the words are caught in your throat. The only thing that comes out is a quite frankly pathetic mess of words.

“I— You— F— Ah,” You stumble over your words, and your face burns even brighter when you hear him chuckle. Panic quickly enters you, is he already laughing at you?! Oh crumbs, this really was a bad idea. You pull one of your arms out from behind you, subconsciously try to hide your face in your hand in an attempt to calm yourself.

“Sorry, I—”

“Why don’t you come in, hm?”

“Huh?!”

You bite your lip in embarrassment at your loud exclamation. Other cookies who were roaming the halls of the citadel all turned to you, and at that moment you might as well have just melted into a puddle. Affogato chuckled again as he gently peels your hand away from your face. His hands cup your own as he softly pulls you into his bedchamber. You aren’t able to get a word in before you're standing in the middle of his room.

“What is it you wanted to tell me? You don’t have to worry about anyone else being around.”

You do not reply. You are frozen in place, unmoving. This isn't how you planned for this to go. All you wanted to do was give him what you made for him, and leave. That’s it. You didn’t expect to be standing in the middle of his bedroom alone with him. This is the worst possible outcome, you thought. How did it turn out this way?

He observes you closely, almost being able to hear the gears turning inside your head. He quietly sits on the edge of his bed, his eyes not leaving your stiff form. He clears his throat as a means to get your attention, and you jolt. Affogato pats the space on his bed beside him, beckoning you to sit next to him, and you hesitate.

“S—Sir, I really don’t think this is appropriate. I shouldn’t be in here so casually with you…” you fluster.

“Why so worried, hm? It’s just us in here. You can sit next to me as much as you like.” He deflects, still patting the space next to him.

Attempting to swallow your nervousness, you sit. Immediately, you’re hit with the mixed scent of coffee and ice cream. The bitterness of the coffee with the sweetness of the ice cream left your head spinning and cheeks burning once again. Oh crumbs, he smells really nice— no! That’s creepy! Just give him what you wanted to give him and go!

After what felt like forever, you pulled out what you had hiding behind your back onto your lap. It was a neatly wrapped box with a cute little ribbon on top. Affogato’s curiosity peaks as he asks you what’s in the box.

“It’s— um, I made you.. I made you a cake… because I heard you talking about how you… you liked sweets…” Your voice grew softer as your sentence continued, your figure shrinking on the spot.

For a moment, there’s only silence.

Then, he laughs.

“My, my,” he says, attempting to suppress his giddiness, “For me? How charming. You’ve come to me this early in the morning just to give me this?”

You nod. You’re so flustered and embarrassed at this point, you thought you were going to explode at any moment now. He gingerly takes the box from your grasp, untying the ribbon and opening the lid. Inside was a small chocolate colored cake with light fluffy icing, along with a cute little spoon. His eyes widened at the sight. The aroma was divine and the cake looked delicious.

He smiles as he turns to gaze at you, eyes holding pure adoration for you. He watches as you fiddle with your fingers nervously, your eyes glued to the floor in front of you.

“Thank you.” he sighs. His tone is so different from what you’re used to hearing. It was so genuine and kind in comparison to the faux sweetness he held with any other cookie in the kingdom. “I appreciate it, truly.”

“It’s— It’s nothing!” you nervously laugh, still refusing to face him. Despite your embarrassment, you’re glad he likes your gift. Sure, a cake so early in the morning might be a bit odd to some, but he likes it, so that’s all you really care about. You spent almost the entire night in the kitchens of the citadel, perfecting your recipe to make sure it was well suited for Affogato Cookie, Dark Cacao Cookie’s right hand.

“Such a thoughtful gift from a lovely cookie deserves a reward, does it not?” he hums in an unrecognizable tone, causing you to look up at him quizzically.

Your sputter, eyes widening.

He smiles angelically, motioning a spoonful of the cake towards you. If it was even possible, your face darkened even more. But you could’ve sworn his own cheeks held a light red tint as well.

“Say ‘ah’.”

#cookie run #cookie run kingdom #cookie run x reader #cookie run x you #crk #crk x reader #fanfiction #affogato x reader #crk affogato #affogato cookie #x reader

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beanghostprincess · 4 months

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it is i again... strawhats/revolutionaries enjoyer (sabosan/koanami)

im just thinking about oblivious sanji and koala vs struggling sabo and nami

sanji is oblivious because well. he doesnt recognize when someone is attracted to him... and koala is oblivious because shes not 100% sure if nami likes her that way (despite being painfully obvious) (im sure koala would def know but i jsut think it's a little bit funny)

like sabo and nami writing the most romantic letters Ever to their crushes and then sanji's like "? this is from luffy's brother but for who?" (WHO ELSE DOES SABO TALK TO MOST ASIDE FROM LUFFY !!!) and koala just reads nami's letter and goes "aw this is sweet. im sure the receiver is going to appreciate this :]"

(also alternatively, oblivious nami so sabo and koala are Both struggling...) oblivious nami is her not being sure if koala even likes girls so when koala is romantic with her shes just like "??? does she mean this in a friendly way? what does she mean by this?"

Hello, my beloved Sabosan/Koanami enjoyer, may I interest you with my very very normal and not insane feelings about this idea? 🙏🏻 (I am not normal. Nor sane).

Sanji is oblivious because his self-esteem rests at the bottom of the fucking ocean and the guy can't fathom the concept of somebody liking him, even less being in love with him. He goes around the world giving love but the second somebody else returns it he's like "huh, this is nice. I wonder if this feeling has a name. I am sure they're just this nice to everybody else and it has nothing to do with their perception of me". So, yeah, trying to flirt with Sanji is... Hard. On the other hand, Koala is oblivious because, even if she accepts the possibility of Nami liking her back, she doesn't know if it's love or just a short-term crush. They're always joking about Nami having a lot of girlfriends, so for Koala, who probably has only thought about one person besides Nami romantically, it's a bit weird to guess if Nami truly has strong feelings for her.

So this makes Sabo and Nami go absolutely insane trying to find ways to make the other two realize they're in love with them. Without saying it out loud either because despite being in love and often reckless with these things... They don't want to jump to conclusions. They want to court them, or something like that. Sabo is a writer, and we all know that, so he comes up with this plan and starts writing letters to Sanji. They're the most romantic, Jane Austen, poetic letters about yearning in the whole universe. The thing is-- He doesn't personally give them to Sanji, he just leaves them in the kitchen for him to find, because he's a writer but he's also a moron. And Sanji instantly gets jealous and frustrated and "Who- Who is he talking to except me????" because Sabo isn't even that close to the rest of the crew, tbh. He's always with either Luffy or Sanji and Sanji thought they had something special going on. So it's kind of breaking his heart to find the letters, and if he needs some space between them, Sabo thinks he has fucked up by confessing and Sanji doesn't feel the same. Yay! Miscommunication! Meanwhile, Nami steals the idea like the burglar she is and starts writing letters for Koala too. Unlike Sabo, she actually does give them to her, but Koala genuinely thinks Nami is asking for her opinion?? And it makes her extremely sad, but Koala just goes "Oh! This is great, Nami. I'm sure the girl you're in love with will definitely fall for you now" and Nami wants to jump into the sea and drown.

So now you have Sanji, who's not speaking to Sabo because he feels a bit betrayed and it's hard to be next to him now that he thinks Sabo loves somebody else. And Koala, who tries hard to help Nami with the letters and wants to be next to her even if it's to support her with a crush that makes her terribly sad. And both Sabo and Nami are going through the worst time of their lives.

(And Nami being the oblivious one is also really funny because not knowing if a girl is a sapphic or not and having a "is this platonic or romantic????" crisis happens to every lesbian in the world. I raise you, btw, oblivious Sabo for the same reason because he truly thinks Sanji is girl-crazy only).

#this is amazing your asks are always the best #sabosan and koanami living in my mind rent free forever #sabo and nami bonding over the fact that they're pining idiots #koala and sanji bonding because they think their crushes don't like them back #everybody on the crew being extremely done with them and their telenovela #one piece #black leg sanji #cat burglar nami #revolutionary sabo #koala one piece #sabosan #koanami

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sshbpodcast · 5 months

Text

Character Spotlight: Lwaxana Troi

By Ames

Lwaxana haters, see yourselves out (or stick around and see how wrong you are!), because A Star to Steer Her By loves our black-eyed Betazoid mama. She’s the daughter of the Fifth House, holder of the Sacred Chalice of Rixx, heir to the Holy Rings of Betazed, and also one of our favorite characters from The Next Generation!

Like Katharine Pulaski (whom we also stan with the best of them!), Lwaxana Troi is a character who gets way more hate than she deserves, who grew substantially every time she appeared on the show, and who has way more nuance than even some of the main characters we’ve discussed from the show so far! And that fashion sense? Holy cow. So pack your absurdly huge luggage, don your fluffiest wig, and meet up with us and Mr. Homn as we celebrate (and occasionally criticize) all things Lwaxana below and this week on the podcast (sashay over to 55:22 for the convo). We’re going on a manhunt!

Best moments

Murderers! Assassins! While her first couple of appearances in TNG were fairly annoying, as you’ll see in our next section, the one thing Lwaxana gets emphatically right in “Manhunt” is figuring out the two Antedians the Enterprise was carrying are actually assassins. And she drops this information in the most nonchalant way possible, cementing her status as a major boss.

Release them and I will stay with you willingly Oh boy is “Ménage à Troi,” a tough episode to gauge. While it certainly has its lows (Lwaxana constantly crashing Deanna’s day, Ferengi shenanigans at their worst, and some sexual assault and implied rape swept under the rug), Mrs. Troi does put her daughter first and insists to Daimon Tog that Deanna and Will be released if she sacrifices herself like any mother would.

Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? The other great scene that Lwaxana inspires in “Ménage à Troi,” is one we mentioned in our Picard Spotlight post, when she and JL work together to trick the Ferengi into releasing her. Even from across viewscreens, she compels the beautiful diatribe of Shakespearean poetry from Jean-Luc that ends up saving the summer’s day!

What does that little one do, Mister Woof? I don’t know why, but it always tickles me the couple of times on the show that Lwaxana calls our Klingon security head “Mr. Woof” as she does in “Half a Life” and others. Is she doing it just to evoke a reaction from him? Does she actually know his name at all? Regardless of the answer, it’s a cute joke that the writers play.

It is the custom for your loved ones to join you at this Resolution, is it not? Our fuller opinion of the character really started getting formed once the show reached “Half a Life” – one of our TNG faves – and we got a different look at this man-hungry helicopter parent. Suddenly, Lwaxana has nuance. She fights for people other than herself or her immediate family. She becomes vulnerable with Timicin, something we didn’t think possible from her character. And when she decides to go with him to his Resolution, it feels personal, complex, and complete.

A child who is trusted becomes worthy of that trust We gave Deanna some rightful criticism for thinking that writing up a contract between Worf and Alexander would be a good idea in “Cost of Living,” and Lwaxana waltzes in like a fairy godmother and throws that terrible idea in their faces! Immediately, she knows how to better parent Alexander than anyone else on the show ever had, low bar that that is.

You’re telling me you’re not going to be naked at your own wedding? It feels like such a triumph for Lwaxana to so brazenly show up naked to her wedding in “Cost of Living,” fully embracing her Betazoid heritage and throwing her strong will and individuality in Campio’s and his little toady’s faces. Now why she was engaged to that uptight twat in the first place is another story, but good for her anyway!

Whatever it is, we can face it together Here’s an actually good moment she shares with her daughter: That tear-jerking moment in “Dark Page.” It’s another instance in which we see Lwaxana as having more personality traits than we were led to believe she had as she comes to acknowledge the death of her daughter Kestra, and also we see Majel Barrett nailing some acting we’d never seen from her before.

Nobody’s ever seen me like this By the time we reach Deep Space Nine, the writers have figured out what to do with Lwaxana Troi to make her an impactful character. Sure, she’s still a great comic device, especially against rigid characters like Picard and Odo, but it’s in the way that she is humanized (or Betazoidized?) in scenes like the truly remarkable turbolift scene in “The Forsaken” that she really shines.

Then sway with me, Odo. Sway with me. While Lwaxana’s constant pestering of Picard gets tiring really quickly, her relationship with Odo proves something more interesting. In one of those Odd Couple kind of pairings, she’s able to get Odo to come out of his shell, even if it’s just a little bit, so when she gets him to dance with her in “Fascination,” it’s delightful and shows more layers to their respective characters.

Before I met her, my world was a much smaller place Okay, so the weird inspiration vampire side of the plot of “The Muse” may be idiotic, but the Lwaxana-Odo scenes are pure gold. Lwaxana and Odo, again, find each other to be the only people they can be vulnerable with, and Odo agrees to marry a very pregnant Lwaxana to get her out of an existing marriage, delivering the purest, most intimate and beautiful speech we’ve heard from him (until Kira, at least).

Strut your stuff on the catwalk Finally, we just have to give massive points to her remarkable fashion sense. One of our favorites is this blue number from “Fascination,” with the perfect wig to complement it and accessories like whoa. Make sure you check out our full screenshot assemblage that we put together previously to give fair credit to the excellent costuming of this iconic woman.

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Worst moments

Momzillas gone wild Mrs. Troi is not without her faults, however, and most are man-related. How much pressure she puts on her daughter to get married is more than uncomfortable, it can get downright offensive. When the arranged marriage she initiated between Deanna and Wyatt comes due in “Haven,” it’s clear that this momzilla doesn’t always have her daughter’s best interests in mind; just her own.

Use your mind, not your mouth We also found it just plain rude how much Lwaxana insisted on communicating with Deanna telepathically in “Haven” and other episodes. a) Deanna has made it clear she’d rather speak out loud, and b) Picard and other crewmembers can’t hear what’s being said and that’s impolite, especially coming from someone of such standing in the Federation.

Oh, Jean-Luc, what naughty thoughts It becomes a running gag for the first couple appearances of Lwaxana how much she makes sexual advances on Captain Picard, who is just trying to do his job most of the time. But “Manhunt” really takes the cake for just going overboard with presumptuous behavior unbecoming for a woman of her stature. Leave the poor guy alone!

Until death us do part Later in “Manhunt,” it’s even grosser for Mrs. Troi to declare that she and Riker are to be wed. Whatever physiological state she was in is no excuse for how she goes out of her way to mortify her daughter, to put the moves on Deanna’s imzadi without consent, and to make scene after scene all for romantic attention. Why Gene Roddenberry would make his wife act like this is beyond us.

No man has ever been such a mystery to me Lucky for the flesh-and-blood men that Lwaxana spends most of “Manhunt” sexually accosting, apparently she has no idea what a hologram is. I don’t know how, but she’s so horny that when she meets Rex the bartender, she’s so intrigued by her inability to read his mind that she doesn’t even realize it’s because he’s not a real person. We can just imagine how far it went before it dawned on her.

Oo-mox is only the beginning It’s only fitting that someone like Lwaxana Troi should be there for the introduction of oo-mox on the show, and one time was already too much. During “Ménage à Troi,” Lwaxana unknowingly performs what’s essentially a sex act on her captor, which is gross enough as it is, but we learn later in an episode of Deep Space Nine that she also slept with Daimon Tog, and I vomit in my mouth.

Swipe right! We learn in “Cost of Living” that Lwaxana has gotten engaged to Campio, whom she effectively met on a dating app and whom she has absolutely no chemistry with. It strikes us as entirely out of character that she’d accept marriage to someone who wouldn’t allow her to be who she intrinsically is just because he’s rich. Thank the Four Deities she found a way out of it!

My name is Mud While we gave Lwaxana credit for spending more time with Alexander and treating him better than Worf ever does, we have to admit that the jacuzzi scene in “Cost of Living” is off-putting. Sure, it’s the future and we know that in Betazoid culture, nudity is entirely normal, but we’re still not sure it’s something Alexander is accustomed to or had any ability to consent to and that’s weird.

The worst thing that can happen to any parent This is a complicated one because it’s so triggering. I’m not sure it would be fair to blame Lwaxana or anyone for the accident that befell Kestra as we learn in “Dark Page,” but it’s very clear that Lwaxana blames herself. This is truly the lowest her character had ever been, and it explains a few things about how she so tightly latches on to Deanna, but it is a bad, bad time for her.

Bad thoughts, they hurt her What’s more accurate to say about the events from “Dark Page” is that Lwaxana had handled her trauma in an ultimately poor way. By blocking those memories as evidently Betazoids do with triggering events, she never was able to mourn or accept the loss of Kestra, instead avoiding the memories entirely in a way that turned out to be harmful to her and not fair to her late daughter’s memory.

Does no one understand quarantine procedures? I’ll nitpick about it every time some disease breaks out in an episode and no one seems to understand you shouldn’t go around touching everyone around them. So when Lwaxana has Zanthi Fever in “Fascination” and suddenly her horniness becomes contagious, I’m doubly pissed off because it resulted in a really, really stupid premise for an episode.

What I’d mistaken for love was nothing more than a prison After we mentioned just now when Lwaxana leapt at the chance to marry Campio in “Cost of Living,” we see she’s made the same mistake with Jeyal in “The Muse,” except now there’s a baby involved. The most irritating facet of Lwaxana’s personality is how man-hungry she always seems to be. It always clouds her perception, making her make bad decision after bad decision, and worse: making her compromise who she is.

—

Give it up for Majel Barrett Roddenberry, who could really do it all. Stick around next week for more kickass recurring characters on the Enterprise-D, and for our continued ride through the series Enterprise over on SoundCloud or wherever you podcast. You can also send us love notes over on Facebook and Twitter, but stop marrying every eligible dude you meet!

#star trek #star trek podcast #podcast #lwaxana troi #the next generation #deep space nine #haven #manhunt #menage a troi #half a life #cost of living #dark page #the forsaken #fascination #the muse #majel barrett

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