#semi daily tunes

[semi-dailytunes]

#Mario Judah #rage #i miss the rage #synth trap #where are you #groove #dance #in my feelings #music #catchy #semi daily tunes

[ventiswampwater]

book review culture is so funny

#getting out of a reading slump like. oh. u all are still so insane!! good to know!! #scrolling thru reviews on goodreads is like fighting 4 ur life #in the roman colosseum. blades drawn. to find even ONE semi-measured take that's not littered w/gifs from the office #caligula jeering from the stands. as u desperately try to find a singular review that is not an 37987439 open mic night standup routine #and the COMMENT sections under some of these reviews jfdhjhfdsjhfdsj #the united nations PRESS CONFERENCE of it all #these bitches are out for BLOOD!!! it's so hilarious I love mess #ppl truly fight 2 the death on that site daily #also. do not even get me started on BOOKTUBE #my GOD jfdshjfdshjdfs #I'm literally only subscribed to one booktuber on yt #her taste in books is SO far removed from my own & I 100% dislike all of her faves #& I trust absolutely ZERO of her book recommendations lmao #like. not a SINGLE one #but her energy is so good. so it doesn't matter #it's larryreads. luv her so v much #I will always tune my ass in as soon as she uploads. I'd watch that woman review a box of oatmeal #everyone else? I do not perceive #sam speaks

[sherbovania]

florence/may is back on the menu everybody

#^ dykes that i rotate in my mind daily #there'll be more tomorrow probably #stay tuned ig #florenceposting #mayposting #semi-related note: #florence is self reliant to a fault but also super inexperienced so just letting someone else take control even for a moment is just augh.

[robthegoodfellow]

Let's Hear It for the Boy

Praise Kink for Day 3 of @harringrovekinktober

(roommates, kink experimentation, billy is a good boy, nsfw)

Steve felt like a real asshole when Robin asked out of the blue one day, maybe a month after he and Billy became roommates, if Billy was paying part of his rent in labor. Shave some off if he agreed to be your housekeeper? And, at Steve’s incredulous bafflement, had clarified: Every time I’m over he’s cooking or doing laundry or—cleaning shit! To his horror, a highlight reel started up in his mind, a montage of Billy doing all those chores and more, and worse, Steve realized he’d contributed approximately nothing to the daily maintenance of their shared living space. Steve! Robin had scolded, correctly interpreting his guilty grimace. 

So he’d promised to talk to Billy about it—assure him that keeping the place sparkling was in no way required or expected or—or if that was just how he preferred to live, then he’d promise to do his fair share from now on. Only, bringing it up over pizza and beer, a basketball game on TV, had produced an unexpected reaction. Billy… kinda… froze? Went bug-eyed, like Steve had caught him with his hand in the cookie jar. He looked embarrassed.

“Man, it’s fine,” Steve said, tripping over himself to explain—put him at ease. “I really don’t care either way. I just wanted to check and make sure you knew I wasn’t gonna, like—kick you out if you let up on the Cinderella routine.”

Billy flushed more, beet red, and Steve resisted smacking himself in the face. He was fucking this up so bad.

“I mean—”

“I don’t mind,” Billy mumbled, avoiding Steve’s eye as he reached for his beer. “I like it.”

“Okay,” Steve said, over the top encouraging. “Great. Well, I’ll at least pitch in more—”

“You don’t have to do that.” Billy’s throat worked, gulping, plush lips pursed on the can. Steve blinked, shook his head, tuned back in to catch the muttered aside, blue gaze locked on the Michelob commercial. “It’s all good. Nothing has to change.”

Why the hell was he being so weird about this? Did he think Steve couldn’t chip in? Pull his own weight?

“Just because I grew up with a nanny doesn’t mean I don’t know how to do stuff. Vacuum and dishes and—”

Billy grunted, annoyed, throwing his shoulders back to wedge himself into the couch, a mulish slouch. “Just drop it, will ya? I like things how they are, so what’s the fucking problem?”

“All right, jeez,” Steve cried, holding up his hands. “Touchy.”

They were quiet, both ticked, but the kind that would drain away by halftime. Except—he felt shitty just leaving it like this, having semi-acknowledged that Billy was acting like his maid.

“Is there anything I can do?” Steve asked, his tone deliberately mild, not looking away from the freethrow swishing on screen. “That you don’t like?”

No explosion—good sign. After a long, loaded pause, Billy sighed. “Take out the trash.”

“Got it,” Steve said. And let it go.

But from then on, he kept watch, determined to figure out the source of the weirdness. Almost positive it wasn’t a control freak thing or a neat freak thing—it wasn’t like the apartment was pristine. It was more that… everyday, Billy had done something obvious enough that Steve commented on it—always had. Nothing major, just Oh, hey—you got that stain out of the carpet or Holy shit, it smells so good—what is that? or How’d you unclog that drain? Wasn’t like he thanked Billy, though he probably should have been—although maybe Billy didn’t want him to make a big deal out of it?—but he’d always notice and say something admiring because Billy was good at stuff. Good at so much stuff.

He started taking out the trash, and Billy never let on that he noticed, but Steve thought he did. And he kept up the compliments whenever Billy did something nice, since that hadn’t been explicitly forbidden. But since he was paying more attention now, he—noticed some things. Only when he was pretending to look elsewhere, monitoring Billy in his periphery or in the reflection of the window or decorative mirrors his mom had foisted on him. He noticed that, those times, Billy sort of… ducked his head, hiding a grin that bordered on… bashful? And his shoulders bowed a bit, like he was—curling in on himself. Like—in delight?

Like—he secretly really liked it? When Steve noticed he’d done something nice? When Steve said something nice about it?

So… he decided to test it. Nothing too overbearing or obvious, just—instead of merely noticing, he was sure to compliment. Because why not, if Billy liked it and still wouldn’t let Steve lift a finger except on garbage day?

Good became his go-to. This tastes so good. That looks so good. Good, good, good.

Which is when it clicked for him—that Billy didn’t do chores and stuff because he liked the chores. But because… he liked Steve’s reaction?

And—that would explain his weirdness. Why he didn’t want to talk about it. Like maybe he was worried Steve would think Billy liked being his bitch or something—Steve winced, anticipating the whack from the Robin who lived in his head—not that Steve thought of him that way.

…Though if he didn’t mind Steve thinking of him that way—or even liked it, then…

Well, Steve didn’t—dislike that. Like the general concept. Held a certain—

Anyway, in the interest of further—ah, testing, Steve mentioned, casually, on his way to work one morning, “I’ve been craving that pasta salad you made.”

Billy cut him a glance over his coffee where he was hunched at the kitchen table. Grunted, and Steve quirked a grin, tossed him a salute goodbye. It wasn’t even a lie—the pasta thing—he’d been salivating at the memory. This version with Italian dressing instead of mayo, with olives and stuff. 

Lo, late that afternoon, when he got back, there was a big Tupperware of it in the fridge. Billy wandered in halfway through his second helping. They paused, wide-eyed at the sudden charge buzzing in the air, and Steve’s stomach clenched.

“It’s—good,” he managed, hands suddenly clammy around his fork and bowl. Billy was staring at Steve’s hands, held awkwardly aloft where he leaned on the counter. The stare was strangely heavy—hooded lids. Steve cleared his throat. “You—did good.”

Billy’s cheeks were as flushed as that day on the couch, watching basketball, insisting he liked—

Abruptly aware his boner was starting to tent his shorts, Steve turned to face the counter, ducking to shovel more pasta in his idiot mouth. Heard Billy go to the cabinet, fetch a glass. Fill it. Walk back out.

Heaving an unwinding breath, Steve set down the bowl, let his elbows bear the weight of this latest sexual awakening.

So that was a thing, apparently—and for Billy, too, potentially. Probably. Because, without quite meaning to, they fell into this little routine where, before Steve left for work, he’d pause, and Billy would look up from his coffee, and Steve would mention something—a rental movie he wanted to see, or a sale at the liquor store, or if Billy would mind throwing Steve’s whites in with his so he’d have a shirt to wear to this meeting later in the week…

And the VHS would be waiting on the counter. And a six-pack would be waiting in the fridge. And his shirt would be washed and ironed and waiting in his closet. And everytime Billy would be lingering nearby, not quite meeting his eyes, and Steve’s pulse would pound even though technically there was nothing sexy about an ironed shirt, and Steve would say Good. You did good.

Billy would sometimes clench his fist, when Steve said it. Or squirm in his seat a bit. Or swallow, throat bobbing. Color rising. And the sight hit Steve like a load of bricks. A load of bricks to the head.

It was the weirdest game of gay chicken—scrambling to find mundane tasks for Billy to complete for the prize of a pat on the back, when all Steve wanted, and he bet Billy felt similarly, was to order Billy to his knees.

He thought about it whenever they were on the couch watching TV, whenever they were eating in the kitchen or drinking on the balcony or passing each other outside the bathroom in the morning.

So he tested further. Came home and went to see if Billy had done it—and there he was, standing by Steve’s bed. The neatly made bed. 

Steve’s heart was rabbiting out of his chest, too on the fritz to form words, and his feet weren’t much better, charting a crooked, clumsy course until they were toe to toe, Billy’s gaze downcast, his lips parted, breaths shallow. 

He didn’t know whether it’d sound stupid if he said it out loud, what he’d been wanting to say for days—whether Billy wanted to hear, or would consider it a step too far.

They’d come this far, though. Steve wet his lips, took a calming breath, and Billy seemed to brace for it. “Good,” Steve said, and it came out breathy. “Good boy.”

Billy curled—did that thing where he ducked, hunching around something invisible—and the sound punched out of him, this pained gasp. Steve’s hands moved on their own, reaching to cradle Billy’s head, step close to whisper in his ear, his brow at Steve’s shoulder: “Good? Is this good?” Felt more than saw him nodding. “You want to be good for me?”

“Fuck,” Billy whispered—bit wheezing. Wet. “Fuck.”

“What do you want?” Steve asked, fumbling at his heated neck. “What do you—?”

“Be good.” It was mumbled, cringing. “Wanna be good.” A shaky inhale. “Make you feel good.”

Steve’s blood was roaring everywhere but his brain—would’ve fallen over if he weren’t clutching Billy. “Want that, too.”

He heard a thready laugh, and Billy straightened, leaning back into his hold, face tipped, lidded gaze on Steve’s chin. “So?”

So what’ll it be?

Buying himself time to gather his wits, some composure lest he combust, Steve tilted his head, assessing. Adjusting his hold, ran a thumb across Billy’s lower lip, firm enough to pull at the skin. “Want this.” Another swipe, exposing teeth, his curving tongue. “Make me feel good with this.”

A tug at his belt, and Billy was nodding, making short work of the button and zip—movements quick and precise. He sank, kneeling at Steve’s feet, tugging the pants to hang at midthigh, and finally looked up. 

Steve swept blond curls off his forehead. “Like you like this.”

Billy stared, eyes gleaming. Seemed to be—waiting.

“So good like this,” Steve corrected. “Now show me how good.”

Swaying, Billy buried his face in Steve’s briefs, nosing him through straining cotton, and huffed hot air at the crown. Steve compulsively gripped fistfuls of hair, still using Billy’s ears as handlebars, and resolved not to let go—to let Billy show him.

And, boy, did he. Laved at his dick until the fabric was soaked, the white gone translucent—white gone flushed pink, twitching under kitten licks—and Steve was on the verge of begging when a pull at his waistband freed his cock, bobbing only a sec before swallowed in Billy’s grip, fed into his greedy mouth.

Steve’s entire vocabulary had been reduced to one word, babbled at the ceiling behind closed lids: good, good, good, only sometimes it came out guh, guh, guh. One hand cupped the back of Billy’s head, and it was when his hips were on a steady grinding roll that he realized he’d caged Billy against him, locked the gulping heat around his cock as he plugged toward the peak.

Billy wasn’t struggling, though—his fingers biting into the meat of Steve’s ass, moaning so deep in his chest that Steve felt it more than heard it.

Steve grappled for a new word—close, close—but Billy didn’t stop, didn’t let up a second, and when Steve grunted his release, the throat worked around him still. 

The moment Billy pulled off, lungs heaving, face ruby red and shining, Steve flopped to his knees, blindly reached for Billy, draping loose arms around his neck, his ribs, waiting for his own breaths to slow.

“Was it,” Billy asked, tight. “Was it—?”

“Good,” Steve said, huffing a laugh, coasting hands across the bellows of his back. “So good—you’re so good. Always so good for me.”

Billy burrowed his face into Steve’s throat, his collarbone, looping him in an uncertain hug. He was hard, pressed against where Steve’s clothes gaped open. Working a hand between them, Steve rubbed his palm along rigid heat. 

“What do you want?” he asked, nuzzling the nest of blond. “Since you been so good?”

A shudder ran up the sloping spine. Steve smoothed his free hand down to Billy’s waist and back up, waiting.

“I—cleaned the shower,” Billy said, halting. “I could—show you, and—?”

Steve kissed his temple, quick, so helplessly fond. Overwhelmed.

“Good boy wants a wash?” Steve suggested, and tightened his arms when Billy tried to do his pillbug thing. “Be my good boy,” he said, hushed, nosing Billy’s flushed ear. “You want to?”

And Billy curled again, only this time around him. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah.”

.

Now with added sequel: Let's Give the Boy a Hand

#harringrove #harringrovekinktober2k23 #roommates in love #roommates in ill-defined dom subby dynamic #billy wants the praise #and the dick #steve gives it

[plutoswritingplanet]

In your head cannon how much do Feyd and the Reader warm up to one another as the years go on? I’d like to think she is always a little spitfire but that she ends up loving him very much as he does her

Honestly i think because the animosity between their houses runs through generations, and Feyd Rautha is canonically psychotic, their relationship would be very delicate.

I do headcanon that Reader has received some Bene Gesserit training (not fully though), and as such they're more equipped to deal with Feyd on the daily.

But then also, on Giedi Prime, like it or not, Feyd is the only person they know, the only means of protecting themselves, which I think creates another power imbalance.

I think Feyd falls for the Reader first, or is as close to falling in love with someone as possible for him. He's driven by honor, so I think he would be a semi good husband in the public eye, he would also take this marriage as a duty first, then as pleasure. But then again, he'll seek pleasure wherever he can, whether physically or mentally, and his wife is such lovely entertainment.

And Reader will hate him forever, at least that's what they'll tell themselves over and over (especially if we're going with the canon story).

(and i want to explore all that in the future cause i have things to say so stay tuned lmao)

#answered #anonymous #feyd rautha x reader

[wooawrites]

love or letter: woozi version

pairing: l. jihoon x fem! reader

summar: reader accidentally sends head producer jihoon into unwanted popularity, creating tension within their office.

word count: 12k+

genre: semi-enemies to lovers, office romance, fluff

playlist

love or letter series

“Hello and welcome back to… Boo!”

“...Seok!”

“...Soon!”

“Radio Show!”

Chorus of laughter could be heard from around the recording room as the three hosts finished the final portion of the introduction together. Papers could also be heard being shuffled as the hosts eased themselves out of their advertisement break and into their next segment.

“Thank you very much for the love and support you sent us on our official Instagram page during our short university break. I hope all of you enjoyed my takeover for that day—”

“Yeah, I’m sure everyone enjoyed the tiger room tour you gave to our poor listeners, Hoshi.” DK interrupted. A thump could be heard, along with DK yelping in pain for a split second. “Just so listeners know, Kwon Hoshi just hit me, his coworker/host.”

Hoshi could be heard yelling something at him in rushed sentences, though it sounded as if he were underwater from the quality of the mics. They only seemed to stop themselves when a tapping from glass could be heard. Both sounded to be settled back into their seats as they continued with their show.

“Right, onto everyone’s favorite segment: Love or Letter!” Hoshi said excitedly, though there seemed to be a lack for it’s usual excitement in the studio as weak claps could be heard instead. Hoshi seemed to have picked this up as he asked, “Huh? Is something wrong?”

“I know that most of you are here for our most recent Love or Letter, but this one is a little strange. It’s only about half a page long but it’s quite… A tell-all, that’s for sure.” Seungkwan commented, letting out an awkward cough as he shook at the letter in front of him. Scraping from chairs could be heard, which was followed up by laughter from the two other hosts. “Kwon Hoshi, you read it since this is your undoing.”

Laughter had yet to cease, the sound of what’s mixed between a snort and crying could only be heard from the studio. Seungkwan did not hesitate to yell out his fellow host’s name once more, only earning a winded “Okay, okay!” from the other man.

Hoshi cleared his throat, remnants of a laugh ready to slip from his lips as he spoke. “Okay… Dear BooSeokSoon, usually this kind of letter comes from cliche shows and I dearly hope this letter becomes buried amongst the many letters your Love or Letter Team receives on a daily basis, but this is not much of advice and more of a confession…"

Tapping from the glass could be heard once more, a little more panicked than last time. Hoshi let out a hum, as if ignoring whoever was tapping on the other side, continuing. "...to your producer, Jihoon. The moment I saw his picture on Hoshi's Instagram post, I couldn't help but fall for him. I understand if he won't accept my affections, but if he ever sees or hears this letter, please know that Kim Gi—"

"AHHH!" Someone interrupts. Seungkwan. "We read the letters, not expose their names and addresses."

"How could he? She put her name and number down for our PD Jihoon to take." DK says, laughing. The knocking turned more erratic, silencing anything else anyone had to say. DK coughed. “Well… Dear writer, I’m sorry to say this will be a Letter. Our PD Jihoon is pretty anti—”

“Caught up with work!” Hoshi interrupted. “Anyways, sorry to cut the segment so short, we’ve hit a bit of a little issue here at the radio station. Tune in tomorrow night for our other special segment, Paranormals With Peachy, and to hear our daily campus news! Thank you again for listening to BooSeokSoon Radio and have a good night everyone!”

A chorus of goodbye’s from the other hosts could be heard. A final awkward sigh could be heard before the radio cuts off—

[Name] wasn’t sure if she wanted to peel away from the glass just yet. She could feel him staring at the back of her head, which would’ve frightened her if she wasn’t so exhausted. Her palm stung from how hard she was hitting the glass to make the hosts stop talking.

How am I supposed to take tomorrow’s exam if my palm’s going to bruise up? She asked herself, eyes never leaving Seokmin, who offered her a passive smile as he, Soonyoung, and Seungkwan settled their headsets on their respective mic stands. They were deliberately slow this time, much to [Name]’s chagrin.

“You let one of those letters slip through.” His voice held no such emotion, like it usually does, but the emphasis could be heard even if it was verbal.

[Name] closed her eyes, mentally bringing her walls up as she turned around to look at Jihoon. “I swear I made sure to separate the piles properly.”

“Not properly enough.” Jihoon chastised. The hosts were sure to be quiet to shut the door as quietly as possible, though it didn’t stop Jihoon from snapping his head at them, eyes narrowing at the three men. “And why did you three just keep reading?”

[Name] was glad everyone else from their respective teams were kind enough to clear away from the room before the radio show ended. At least this way they wouldn’t have to hear four of the five members that drove the show to be chewed out.

“Because it was entertaining.” Soonyoung answered honestly, sending a teasing smile toward Jihoon, who only rolled his eyes. “C’mon, Jihoon, it was a little funny. Those confession letters honestly just come from pure intentions—”

“And somehow makes a fool out of me—” Jihoon snapped.

“—and cut [Name] some slack. She spent the whole week separating your confession letters from the actual confession letters, printed out apology notes to any of the addressed senders, and was the one to narrow down the possible stories for us to use. And that was on top of everything else she’s usually supposed to do.” Soonyoung explained, giving the younger woman an easy smile.

Seungkwan nodded. “I’m sure someone just mixed up the papers when it was brought over to us. [Name] would’ve spotted it if she was the one to physically take it over to us herself.”

Jihoon was only seething in silence, [Name] fighting off the urge to tear at her hair in frustration. Her eyes narrowed in on her hand, finding the bruise forming on her wrist more interesting than the conversation. Though if she were to be honest, any conversation could be better than this one.

Her mind replayed every single moment that happened up until she handed off the stacks to her assistants. Had she told the wrong person to bring it to Seokmin? Why hadn’t they double checked like she asked them to? Either way, she knew it was her fault some way or another and she wasn’t sure how long she’s going to keep her job after this.

“I’m sorry.” [Name] said finally, bowing deeply to Jihoon and the three other hosts. “I swear I separated them—”

“Yeah, I know.” Jihoon started, only stopping when [Name] sent him a look that only seemed befitting to his own special glare.

“At least let me finish?” [Name] suggested, voice quipped as if she were a school teacher talking to a child. “I should have double—no, triple checked those stacks of letters. If I had done that in the first place, the segment wouldn’t have to be cut short and we wouldn’t be here.”

Seokmin shook his head. “No it’s okay. I should’ve checked on the papers before the show started too instead of handing it over to the other two. Besides, this is just your first mistake. You haven’t made any since you were moved up from production assistant to head producer for the Love or Letter team.”

[Name] nodded, appreciating the hosts' understanding, though she wasn’t sure if Jihoon would accept her apology. She bowed again to Jihoon, muttering another quiet apology to the man.

“Just… Don’t do it again. And make sure to keep your team in check and I want you to be the one to physically bring it over to Seokmin so you can triple check you have the right story next time. Got it?” Jihoon asked. At [Name]’s nod, he turned for the door, stopping as he turned to take a good look at [Name]. “And next time, don’t stay up so late trying to separate those letters. You’ve got five other people on your team to help you with those.”

With those words, Jihoon exited, Soonyoung following shortly after. [Name] sat on the leather couch behind her, digging her head into her hands as she let out a tired sigh. The couch dipped, Seokmin’s hand patting her back. “Don’t sweat it. Everyone makes mistakes all the time.”

Sungkwan hummed in agreement. “And it’s not as if Jihoon’s picture perfect either. He made plenty of mistakes before he became the radio show’s producer.”

“That’s the thing: before he was a producer. I’m a producer now and I made a mistake even rookies were able to avoid.” [Name] grumbled, rubbing at her eyes.

Sungkwan and Seokmin let out noises of discontent at their friend. “Don’t be so hard on yourself; the school year’s just begun and you’re still adjusting. Jihoon’s pretty forgiving after he’s finished with his chastising; he’s too busy to stay too mad.”

[Name] rolled her eyes at the last notion. “Sure, sure. As if he hasn’t had it out for me the minute I stepped foot into the building to meet up with him this summer.”

She hadn’t been wrong; when she had just been a production assistant to Yeri a year prior, Lee Jihoon had been nice to her—or polite, at least. Always offered small bows of acknowledgement whenever she was trailing behind Yeri or was by herself in the small office space provided to the Love or Letter team.

Once Yeri had graduated, Mr. Yang had been the one to announce [Name]’s step up into the open position her mentor left behind, suddenly making Jihoon become colder for some reason toward her. 

The meet up she had with him and Mr. Yang had gone smoothly on the surface, but she could still feel the coldness behind Jihoon’s tone when narrowing down expectations needed once she became a producer. 

Regardless, she kept her temper from rising and did her best to keep her composure throughout the meeting, though that didn’t stop her from dropping certain comments at him afterward. Especially when she felt as if she wasn’t wrong or trying to amend her wrongdoings.

Maybe she was just overthinking, but she was sure Lee Jihoon had it out for her and she was more than ready to hold her ground. Except now, though. That blunder was definitely her fault.

“Don’t be like that.” Seokmin responded, nudging her shoulder. “You probably just need to get some more sleep; there’s been a lot of confession letters sent to Jihoon after Soonyoung posted a picture of him last year and it accumulated during the summer. He seemed to understand in the end anyways.”

“Right… Right…”

“You have been getting enough rest, right?” Seungkwan asked, though all three of them knew the answer already. “How have you been?”

[Name] sighed. “Fine, I guess.” Silence had never felt louder as she could feel her best friends eyeing her suspiciously. “I’m just… Here, okay? It’s better than the last time you guys asked me if it makes you feel better.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Seungkwan asked, standing up. “We can go get food and head back to my apartment.”

“No, I just wanna get my stuff and head home.” [Name] responded honestly, making sure to offer Seungkwan a kind smile. “Thank you for being concerned for me, though. I really mean that.”

Sungkwan nodded. “Any time.”

“We’re always here, you know.” Seokmin said, offering her a side hug before they stood up.

They all walked out together, separating when [Name] walked over to her office and the other two moving toward their own. “Don’t stay up all night!” Sungkwan said.

“I won’t!” [Name] responded, well aware she was most likely going to, in fact, stay up all night. Her bag had already been packed and her coat folded on top of her chair. With a quick swing at both items, [Name] walked out of her office, fishing for her headphones as she walked out.

Two familiar voices and her name could be heard at the other end of the hall, however, making [Name] stop under the assumption her name was being called. [Name] was ready to call back and ask what was needed before she registered what was being said.

“...some slack, already, man. Do you not see how exhausted the poor girl is?” Soonyoung asked. “And you can tell she’s definitely going to make up for it. I swear she would have broken the glass with how hard she was tapping the glass earlier. She’s really trying her best.”

Jihoon sighed. “Her best isn’t enough. I don’t understand why Yeri and Mr. Yang wanted her become a producer with only a year under her belt. She’s too young to work with that kind of role and it’s obvious.”

“Why are you so hard on her anyways? The Lover or Letter team liked her before and after she became a producer.”

“I’m not being hard on her; I just don’t like something I spent four years building up with you come crumbling down by some second year.”

[Name] held her breath. Did he really think she was that incapable? Enough to tear down a four year radio station? She was almost ready to jump out of her hiding spot, ready to tell Jihoon off and ask him if he thought of Seungkwan and Seokmin, who were also second years with higher positions at the radio station, that way as well.

She only halted when she heard Jihoon yelp. “Ow! You dick!”

“You’re the one being a dick.” Soonyoung admonished. “Like I said, cut her some slack. She’s definitely trying so give her a chance. It’s only the beginning of the school year, too, so let everyone adjust. Besides… I think something’s going on with her.”

Jihoon huffed. “Why?”

“I don't know. She just seems like she’s keeping herself busy from something and she wasn’t like this last year. Of course, you wouldn’t know because you never spoke to her.”

“Hey—”

“That being said, be nice to her. She really did work her ass off this week; I swear she practically lives here if she’s not in class…”

Their voices faded out and [Name] could only wonder to herself how much had she changed and how obvious was it to the point that even an acquaintance like Soonyoung noticed it. Her brain was too muddled to think of anything, though, exhaustion clinging to her tighter.

She put on her headphones, immediately allowing the sound of instrumental music to flood her senses. She walked with the intention of slumber, though her mind continued to replay the continued conversation in her head, fighting off the sting whenever she remembered Jihoon’s words.

Naturally, news made its way around campus about last week’s fiasco on Love or Letter. Everywhere [Name] went, she could hear someone talking or spreading word of what happened in Love or Letter. And she never felt more embarrassment in her life.

When she found herself at the office of BSS Radio, she was quick to speed off to the Love or Letter office. [Name] evaded any probing questions the other segment teams had for her. 

She wasn’t sure she was ready to explain her mistake and be the focus of ridicule just yet, though it seemed she had been the only one to view it that way. The segment’s events spread around like wildfire—interesting everyone and essentially inviting more people to listen to the radio station, Love or Letter in particular.

[Name] had expected some kind of termination request from Jihoon, especially after what she had heard from him from that night, but she hadn’t heard from him at all since the incident. She had wondered for the duration of the week as to why, though a quick call from the Love or Letter production manager, Colette, telling her to come to the station nearly sent her into a panic.

Like usual, [Name] speed walked to her office, more curious as to what exactly Colette needed from her if she was needed so desperately at the station. 

Maybe I’m getting fired and Colette was promoted…? [Name] had initially thought as she opened the door.

“[Name] wait—!” A voice called out, cutting off when [Name] let out a gasp as a pile of letters fell at her feet. Evelyn, one of the new production assistants, had made her presence known as she leaned over the remaining pile in front of the door to pick up the fallen letters. “Sorry, I should’ve moved them.”

[Name] leaned down to help her. From behind the girl sat Colette, who was opening letters and sorting them into bins. Her eyes only furrowed in confusion when their eyes locked, silently asking her what was happening. 

“Ever since word went out on what happened, more people have sent in letters.” Colette explained, waving a piece of paper around. “Those piles on your feet are unopened ones. Come in and help us sort it out.”

[Name] nodded, speechless at the information as she stepped over. From another side of the room stood the Love or Letter writers, Amelia, Eunwoo, and Jian. They offered a wordless nod as they filtered letters into more bins. “How many people sent letters?” She asked, a little afraid of what the number was.

“Almost three hundred—that’s twice as much as what we usually get on a usual basis.” Amelia informed, an excited smile on her face. “Almost all of them are actual letters instead of the ones we’ve been getting. Of course some of them are kind of useless, though—majority love confessions to Jihoon and others just writing crude things to see if they can get it on air—”

“Which we won’t.”Colette said. “Because all six of us are gonna sort this out together instead of leaving [Name] in the dust with this pile. And we won’t be giving the wrong files without checking over with everyone, will we?”

Everyone nodded in agreement and [Name] made use of their cooperation as she sat down on her desk and started working on sorting papers out with them.

“You should’ve seen the look on Jihoon’s face.” Evelyn said. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him express anything past irritation until he came to the letter box today; he had to call every single one of us to help with moving these letters to this room. He looked like he was stuck in a daze!”

“Why did he call all of you and not me?” [Name] inquired, only earning a shrug from the younger girl. She shot Colette a look in confusion. “Does he not trust me anymore or something?”

Colette shook her head, eyeing her oddly. “Quite the opposite. He asked me where you were and I said you’re probably still asleep since you’re done with class. Told me to only call you unless it’s necessary.” She motioned for the piles of letters. “It’s kind of necessary right now so sorry if I woke you up.”

“You didn’t.” [Name] reassured, opening the letter in her hands, sorting through the papers as if it were second nature once she found herself moving.

Almost an hour had passed through their sorting and [Name] only listened to her team’s conversation, only passing in conversations with Colette every now and then. A knock on the door brought her back to reality. Leaning her head over the pile of letters in front of her, she spotted  Jihoon hovering at the doorway, red envelope in hand.

His eyes scanned the room, mouth ajar as he checked the space around them. "Uwah…" Was all he could manage out. "This is a lot."

"Yeah it is." [Name] agreed, watching as he tried to carefully step over the pile of envelopes at the doorway in amusement. He shuffled his way over to [Name], staring at her curiously.

"I thought you were supposed to be asleep."

"Couldn't." [Name] answered simply, seamlessly opening another envelope as she quickly filtered through it to decide on which pile to place it. Jihoon frowned at her words.

"Why?"

[Name] shot him a strange look. "I just couldn't. Why are you so concerned anyways?"

She bit back her tongue when she realized how sharp her tone was, though she had no means of apologizing. If he was more than willing to express his displeasure with her whenever he felt like it, she most definitely can do the same thing.

Her eyes were trained on his, noticing the slight twitch when she sent out her biting words toward him. She waited for him to respond to her in some sort of tone similar to her’s, half expecting him to mention that her job is still currently being evaluated for a clause of termination.

Instead, Jihoon only sighed, rubbing the back of his neck before moving his hand up to push back some of his hair. “Nothing. Here’s information for next week’s radio show.”

“Oh, okay. Thank you.” [Name] said half heartedly. She stood up, accepting the red envelope and setting it on her table. She returned her attention back to the letters right afterwards, though she could still see Jihoon hovering around longer than expected. “...do you need anything else, Jihoon?”

“Huh?” Jihoon asked, clearly in a bit of a daze. As much as he attempted to remain as stoic as possible, he was horrible at hiding his embarrassment. “Oh—uhm, no. Good luck with all of this. And, uh, don’t push yourself too hard this time. Wouldn’t want something like last week to happen.”

[Name] felt irritation bubble up in her chest, though she pushed it aside as she watched Jihoon awkwardly turn and walk out of her office. She waited for the door to shut before turning to make eye contact with Colette, who looked just as confused as she was.

Since when did Jihoon become so concerned? Or, even more shocking, when did Jihoon ever hold a conversation with her for more than five minutes when it’s not a staff meeting?

If there was anything [Name] hated more than anything, it was phone calls. She wasn’t sure why she was so irked by them; maybe it was because she was so used to speaking to people in person? Or it could be the fact she wasn’t able to gauge what people were actually able to feel if she can’t see their face.

Whatever reason it may be, [Name] hated them to the point she would avoid them if they weren’t work related. Though, recently she’s been needing to answer personal ones more frequently, much to her chagrin.

“Are you coming home this weekend? It’s your dad’s—”

“I’m well aware of what this weekend is, Mom.” [Name] interrupted, letting out an irritated groan when he hip knocked onto a stack of paperwork to the ground.

It was late into the afternoon and [Name] was already behind on whatever needed to be finished before she left today. She cursed herself for answering the phone and having to prepare herself for an argument with her mother.

“Well then are you coming? You hardly leave campus since you went back to school. Honestly it’s kind of selfish of you to leave like that.”

[Name] snorted out a laugh, temper rising at her mother’s backhanded comments. “So, are you trying to get me to come visit or just helping me find reasons to not come home?”

“That’s not what I meant. It’s just… You haven’t been home to help out like you promised.”

Seriously…? “Last time I checked, I was helping pay for the twins’ uniforms and cram school funds.” [Name] said, voice tense. “And I’m paying for their fees for their daily tutoring every week.”

A growing headache was blooming on the side of her head and [Name] was more than ready to hang up any minute to tend to it. She barely processed the swing of her office door, which revealed Jihoon walking in with courteous silence.

He rocked on the balls of his heels as he pointed at his watch, indicating the time for her to turn in one of her written proposals for next week’s segment. [Name] nodded, standing up with one hand on her phone as she rifled through the pile of papers she had all but forgotten on the floor.

“I mean, can you just be more present with us?”

“Honestly, with the way you talk to me, no.” [Name] said, anger almost bubbling over as she cast a glance at the still waiting Jihoon. Once she found the right papers, she double checked for a moment. “Mom, I have to go. I’ll call you later, bye.”

She hung up before she could hear whatever else her mother had to say stepping over the piles of papers to make her way over to Jihoon, who eyed her strangely.

“Everything alright..?” He asked.

[Name] only sighed. “I’d rather not talk about it.”

“Okay.” Jihoon replied, shrugging. For some reason, the simple response brought her shoulders to relax slightly, glad someone wasn’t going to press her for answers at the moment. “Anything you want changed for next week’s segment?”

“Not much. Evelyn mentioned something about Love or Letter needing a catchy tune now that the segment’s been spiking in popularity, though.” [Name] said, watching as Jihoon’s face morphed into slight disdain. She fought off a laugh, reminding herself to not question his obvious dislike if he wasn’t going to question her phone call.

“I’ll see what I can do.” Was all Jihoon said instead. “Though I would need someone from your team to work with so I can see what you all want.”

[Name] hummed, thinking back on who on her staff was available the following month. “Hmm… Colette is out of town for her internship and Evelyn is visiting her grandma for the next two weeks. And the writers are working on an upcoming event already but I think I can pull one of them out to help you.”

“What about you?”

“Huh?” [Name] asked, eyes that were once downcasted on her phone shooting back up to stare at Jihoon’s face.

He motioned to her. “What about you? Maybe you can just help me.”

“I’ve got a family obligation this weekend.” [Name] said, motioning to her phone as if to remind him about the conversation earlier.

Jihoon shrugged. “Just tell me when you come back and we can work on it together. It’s not as if you don’t practically live here anyways.”

“I don’t practically live here…”

“You have pajama pants to change into when it gets too late.”

[Name] shot him an odd look, not sure if she should question how he knew about her Hello Kitty printed pants that she thought she had hidden away in one of her desk drawers.

“Fine, fine. I don’t get why you’re so adamant that it has to be me, though.”

Jihoon rolled his eyes. “You’re the only producer for this team. Producers are supposed to work with each other, right?”

"Right… I just wasn't sure if—" [Name] bit her lip back, not wanting him to find out she overheard his conversation with Soonyoung. "I'll let you know once I get back on campus and we can work on it that day."

"Working the day you get back?" Jihoon questioned, earning a lackluster nod from [Name]. “Don’t you ever get sick of this place?”

“Not really; I kinda like my job.” [Name] said, though the tone in her voice was unconvincing.

It was true; [Name] did like her job, despite all the trouble she’s recently had to undo. Something about the process of turning an idea into reality fascinated her and being a producer provided that type of environment for her. 

[Name] had lost count of how many times she found herself pooled into her work to the point she��d have to get dragged out of the office by Seungkwan or Seokmin.

Right now, [Name] was more than tempted to see if she can go push her limits since she ended her phone call with her mother. She was sure this would also most likely cause Jihoon to not want to work with her if he ever saw her working conditions.

“If we’re done here, I need to head home now instead of later. I’ve got a few bags to pack right now.” [Name] said, clear with her intentions of wanting to end the conversation.

Jihoon stared at her, though what was going on in his mind, she hadn’t a clue. He only nodded once he let the words process through his brain. “Yeah, go ahead. I’ll see you when you come back; I’m working late so this is probably the last you’ll see of me.”

“Working late on a Friday? Aren’t you sick of this place?” [Name] asked, holding back a smile when she echoed his words. He only huffed out a laugh—a rare thing from him, honestly, [Name] should’ve recorded it to show Seungkwan and Seokmin—shaking his head as he moved aside to let [Name] out the door.

They didn’t bother greeting each other goodbye—a habit they both formed with one another due to the weird work tension they had. [Name] made sure to remind herself to change that once she came back now that some of that pressure had all but subsided.

Strange. That was the word Yeri had used when she mentioned her for the first time to Jihoon.

“She’s kind of strange, according to Professor Im. But talented. Super talented. He was practically begging me to take her under my wing so she can have a taste of production life early. Mr. Yang seemed impressed with her too. Just give her a shot this year, Jihoon, so you can see what they’re talking about.”

Jihoon had almost believed the upperclassman, expecting some kind of extraordinary freshman to be making waves at the radio station. Instead, he was met with a frantic looking girl always cowering behind Yeri whenever there were staff meetings.

Regardless, he was nice to [Name] during her first year, even taking in her recommendation of bringing Seungkwan and Seokmin in to be new possible hosts for the radio show after the previous two hosts graduated. 

He had thought whatever Yeri was spewing out previously had disenchanted her before she graduated, choosing a different employee to be her successor for the Love or Letter segment team. Yet, she had still chosen the cowering girl and irked him beyond a point.

His doubts only subsided slightly when Soonyoung had mentioned to him she was acting differently than she had the previous year. He hadn’t believed his friend, thinking Soonyoung had some sort of soft side on the girl for being younger than them, until he had admitted that, yes, [Name] was anything but that frightened girl now.

Honestly, if the circumstances would be different, Jihoon would be glad someone like her broke out of her shell. He wasn't, though. Something just felt off about her behavior—like it was forced. Regardless, the strange girl he remembered was still around, evident from watching her stare at herself in muted horror at the gym for a little too long.

And the strange girl definitely hadn't left as he heard a crash sound from the other side of her apartment door, making him jump at the sudden noise he wasn't able to see. A shriek that definitely didn't sound like [Name]'s rang through from the door.

"Kill it! Kill it!"

"I can't if you're running so much—you're scaring it away!"

Those two voices definitely sounded familiar, though.

A sudden thump! could be heard, followed with a soft, "You're going to get us kicked out before the lease ends, you know." [Name].

Footsteps could be heard making its way to the door and [Name] stood before Jihoon, a slipper with a thoroughly squished spider  in her left hand, still retracted as if ready to smack another one. Jihoon could only offer a stuttered, "He-eyy." in shock, eyeing the two figures behind her.

If they hadn't already been embarrassed, then Seokmin and Seungkwan definitely were with the way they made eye contact with Jihoon—who suddenly remembered he was their boss. [Name] hadn't seemed to care, however, setting the slipper down on the tiled floor of the entrance and stepping back.

"Oh, you weren't kidding when you said Jihoon was coming over." Seokmin said, gaping as the man walked in and took off his shoes (which was deliberately placed far away from [Name]'s spider'd slipper).

[Name] only offered a frown. "You didn't believe me?"

"No one would believe the idea of you and Jihoon working together, period." Seungkwan chimed in, also watching as [Name] and Jihoon exchanged awkward glances. "Why are you two working together?"

"Love or Letter jingle." Jihoon finally stated simply. He motioned toward the guitar strapped to his back. "We were supposed to meet a few days ago but—"

"I got a stay at home order from a certain someone." [Name] interrupted, giving Seungkwan a pointed look.

"You barely got home before you started spewing nonsense about going to the studio!" He countered back. “You’ll overwork yourself ag—”

Seungkwan bit back his words, sharing a knowing look with [Name], who only stared back at him blankly, as if attempting to stay unreadable. Seokmin shuffled his feet awkwardly, trying his best not to glance between his friends and Jihoon.

Jihoon could only raise an eyebrow. That was the first time he heard that. When they had been messaging each other back and forth, he had been under the impression that [Name] was already back home when in fact she was probably still with her family? He watched as [Name] shifted uncomfortably, as if not wanting to talk further about it.

He only sighed. "Workaholic lifestyles are hard to break." He said instead, offering [Name] a sympathetic glance. "Are we going to your room or staying out here?"

[Name] frowned at him for a moment, staying silent a little too long for his liking before she pointed toward a door. "My room. If we stay out here, Seokmin and Seungkwan might try giving unwanted input."

"Hey—" Seokmin started.

"Or squawk like a bunch of chickens if they see another spider."

"HEY!" Seungkwan countered this time, face bright red. 

[Name] ignored her fuming roommates, motioning for Jihoon to follow her. He didn't bother to think twice, finding her nonchalant behavior more amusing than offending.

When he entered the room, he hadn't expected it to be so… Was girly the right term? He eyed the heart shaped pencil sharpener and the various plants being held by Sanrio themed pots.

No, cute. He thought as he made eye contact with a Badtz-Maru pot. "Nice pots." He mused to [Name], who was cleaning up her space. She glanced at him, then the pot.

"He looks like you." She says instead, making him give her a strange look.

He pointed at a Gudetama shaped pot on her window. "And that looks like you."

[Name] glanced at it, offering a small laugh. "Yeah, it does. Doesn't it?"

The hairs on the back of his neck stood up for a moment, caught off hearing her laugh—genuine and not the little huff of air he usually hears from her when she’s trying to amuse someone. He shook it off, however, reminding himself why he was here.

They worked together a little too well. It almost scared Jihoon with how well they got along tonight. Though, he had been anticipating some arguments so maybe he was just stupid for making such presumptions. Hours had gone by and the only reason they had to stop was when Seungkwan knocked on the door, popping his head in after [Name] called his name out.

He motioned to something in his hand. “Take it.” He commanded, shaking the bottle of water in his hand.

[Name] rolled her eyes, glancing at the clock on her desk. “It’s not even 8PM yet.”

“You almost forgot to take them last night. It’s better to take them early.” The blond answered back dismissively.

“You worry more than me.” Jihoon heard her murmur under her breath as she pushed herself off her seat.

“What?” Seungkwan challenged, eyes sharp when he locked eyes with [Name]’s.

“Nothing, dad.” [Name] teased, holding her hand out. A set of capsules escaped from Seungkwan’s hands and spilled onto her. [Name] took them quickly, drawing the pills down with the water bottle Seungkwan handed over to her right after.

Seungkwan nodded in approval, casting a glance at Jihoon before saying, “Okay, back to work.”

“M’kay.” [Name] answered back dismissively, settling back down on her seat. She kept her eyes on the door until it was fully shut, letting out a sigh once she heard it click in place. She looked over at Jihoon, who was still silently watching. “Sorry… He gets worried too much.”

“He’s a good friend.” Jihoon complimented, pausing for a moment. “Or boyfriend..?”

[Name] huffed. “‘Stand in-parent' is a better term for him.” She countered, shaking her head. “I didn’t balance school and work properly last year and he’s worried it’ll happen again if I keep working—which, fine, I get but I kinda wanna not get behind on anything for the studio—”

She cut herself off, biting at her lip to keep her from saying anything further. [Name] shifted back into her seat, eyes nearly burning holes onto her computer screen.

For some reason, the hairs on the back of Jihoon’s neck stood up again. “It’s fine. I get it.” He offered her. She sent him a sparing glance—as if silently begging him to change the subject. Again, he nodded, setting his guitar back on his lap again, though not before adding something. “It’s okay to, y’know…Not hold up a persona around me. I don’t bite.”

He only offered an awkward smile as he noticed, again, she was giving him a long, hard stare.

“Let’s go back to the song.” She said.

Whether she took his words to heart or not, a weight seemed to have lifted off [Name]’s shoulders, sitting a lot more relaxed in her seat. A wave of relief washed over him when he noticed the strange girl from last year had come up just a little bit to the surface as he watched her for a moment before turning his attention to her computer screen.

Pacing. Jihoon noticed that was a tendency she had when she was overwhelmed. She'd move from one end of the room to another in such a short span of time, no matter how big the distance. Jihoon was impressed; in fact, he wasn't sure if he could even take his eyes off her from how quick she did it.

Was he trying to figure out how she moves so fast or was it because he just wants to stare at her? He couldn't figure it out; he was still trying to figure out a bigger problem: why was she pacing so much?

“You wanna calm down, you’re distracting me.” Jihoon said, watching as [Name] halted in her footsteps.

“I don’t know how everything else in your room doesn’t distract you.” She says, eyes looking around the constellation ceiling. 

They had gotten into a weird rhythm of going to each other’s apartments once a week to work on Love or Letter’s opening music. It was Jihoon’s turn to host, though he had a difficult time trying to think (let alone, play) anything with the amount of pacing his guest was doing.

“You act like you’ve never seen my room before.” He mumbles, glancing down at his music sheet, trying his best not to stare at the wandering girl. He couldn’t, however, after seeing her inch closer to his figurine shelves. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” [Name] responded, eyeing his Cardcaptor Sakura figurine intently. She cast a glance back at him. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to touch your prized possessions, Mr. Lee.”

[Name] laughed as she watched Jihoon roll his eyes at the nickname she gave him after showing him a love confession addressing him like that. He set his guitar down, leaning back in his chair as he turned himself to face her.

“You only pace when something’s wrong. Now, tell me what’s wrong so I don’t have to worry about having to clean up broken glass later.” He said, pushing the empty chair beside him out. [Name], albeit a little annoyed, made no move to argue as she sat down.

“I failed my exam today.”

Jihoon shot her a confused look. A part of him wanted to ask her if that was all, if that was really the reason why she was doing all this incessant pacing. The sullen look on her face was enough to tell him to do anything but that at the moment.

“Oh… That sucks.” He says, earning a hopeless look from [Name].

“You really suck with reassuring people, you know that?” She states. He only offered a silence of agreement to the statement, staring at her and waiting. “But, yeah it does suck; I studied just about everything and still managed to fail. Not really the best feeling.”

“So why the pacing?” Jihoon asked.

[Name]’s face morphed to one of embarrassment as she said, “I didn’t want to bother you with my life problems and pacing around helps me keep quiet… Clearly that didn’t work out.”

Jihoon smiled at the small joke. “Well, I’m in need of a break anyways. I lost track of time trying to figure this music out. Let’s just sit for a few minutes. Or pace.”

“Huh, Lee Jihoon admitting to a break? Didn’t think your little robot heart could do that.” [Name] said, earning a soft elbow to her side.

“You’re one to talk.” Jihoon responds, smile widening as he watches [Name] feign hurt when overdramatically rubbing her side. “I heard from Colette you barely even pay attention to time and just hold yourself up in the office. She’s also the one who told me about your Hello Kitty pajama pants.”

He nearly burst out into laughter when he heard [Name] whisper “Traitor” under her breath. Jihoon held himself back as he reminded himself that it might end up bringing one of his other roommates into his room, essentially bursting whatever safe bubble [Name] felt with him right now.

“You’re kinda funny if you try.” [Name] says, earning an odd look from Jihoon at the backhanded comment. “Almost made me forget about my failed exam.”

“Ahhhh, don’t think about it.” Jihoon said, waving a hand. “The more you dwell on it, the more you spiral. You shouldn’t try to think too much about a bad grade unless you want to go insane.”

A sigh was her only response and Jihoon watched as [Name] nodded at his words, shaking her head in frustration. “It’s just—I studied so hard but my mind was wandering so much that whole time and now I’m just wondering if I should even ask to re-take it or not.”

“Wandering?” Jihoon asked.

“College life would be so much easier if my family didn’t hound me every other day.” Was [Name]’s only response, making Jihoon hum. “They were asking me when I was going to visit them again, which by the way, I honestly loathe since it always ends up with me babysitting my idiot siblings.”

She shrugs, seemingly defeated as she was clearly thinking about her stressful family life. Jihoon could only watch on, thinking to himself if this was actually the girl he had butted heads with months ago. 

“She just seems like she’s keeping herself busy from something and she wasn’t like this last year. Of course, you wouldn’t know because you never spoke to her.”

He nearly kicked himself right then and there as Soonyoung’s words rang through his ears. Did it really take him this long to realize that was probably why she was always pooling over her work and school, barely getting any sleep to the point of mixing things up?

She was doing it to forget about her family problems. And he might not have been a big contributor to her stress, but he was a contributor nonetheless, remembering all the times [Name] did her best to not upset him. Guilt swamped him, making him question what he should do next.

“You should ask your professor for a re-take.” He says instead. [Name] offers him a confused look. “It doesn’t hurt to be a little honest with them, you know. I think if you tell them that you’re taking care of your brothers, they’ll let you do something to save your grade.”

“But that might get in the way of work—” [Name] motions to the computer.

“Don’t worry about it.” Jihoon says. “It can wait. I definitely can wait. Just focus on studying until you make up the grade.”

“Jihoon, are you sure?” [Name] asked softly, brows turned down in a frown.

Something in Jihoon’s stomach turned from the way she said his name but he ignored it as he nodded. “Yeah.”

“Thanks. For the talk, I mean, but obviously the time off working—” Jihoon snorted as he watched [Name] stumble over her words.

“It’s no problem.” He said, swiveling himself back to his seat. “Now let me take the rest of your work time before you leave me alone.”

"You again?" Jihoon asked, narrowing his eyes as he watched [Name] enter the Love or Letter office. "I told you to take a break."

"I am on a break. I brought offerings." [Name] countered, waving the cups of coffees in her hands. Jihoon rolled his eyes.

"More like a bribe to see the plans for Love or Letter." He responds, holding up a hand when [Name] opened her mouth to counter him. "Evelyn told me you stopped by yesterday when I was away and offered her money if she says what I had planned for this week."

[Name] chewed at her lip as Jihoon stared her down sternly before she shook the cup of coffee again. "Bribe or not, it's still an offering. You look like you need it anyways."

She held the cup out to him, eyes bright as she waited for him to take it. Some part of Jihoon wanted to refuse, saying caffeine might affect him later when he works out. He didn't, though. He couldn't. Especially with the look she was giving him.

Wide eyed and hopeful that he'd accept her "offering". He didn't try to look at her as he closed his fingers around the cup, not sure if he can handle the look on [Name]'s face and a little embarrassed when his fingers brushed at her's as they handed the drink off to one another.

“Why are you here?” Jihoon asked, not willing to let up on the fact [Name] was supposed to be on her break.

She chewed at her lip again, a habit she had whenever she tried to think about an answer. And something Jihoon wasn’t sure if he should have noticed or not. He moved his eyes from her lips (though, he wasn’t sure why he struggled so hard) to her eyes, glad she wasn’t staring at him, but at the stack of confession letters on his—or her, actually—desk.

Carefully, Jihoon pushed the notes protectively to his side, shaking his head at her. Even with no words being exchanged, he could definitely tell [Name] wanted to say something.

Instead, a pause only came for a moment until [Name] offered a nervous smile. “It was to bribe Evelyn, but she’s clearly not here… But then you’re here so not really a bad thing, right?”

For some reason, he fought off the turning in his stomach at that notion. “To give me coffee?”

“Exactly.” [Name] said, smiling wider. Again, fighting off the urge of his stomach turning. “You always look like you’re about to fall into a grave; it’s getting worse since you took some of my load. I kinda feel guilty…”

“It’s not a problem.” Jihoon said dismissively, making [Name] scoff.

“You’re starting to look like me when I haven’t slept in 48 hours.” She counters in response. “You’re in your last year of college, too, so I know you barely sleep from school work anyways. Have you gone outside yet at all?”

“Yeah. To walk to work.”

[Name] rolled her eyes. “Okay, smartass, I mean what about not work related? The leaves are changing.”

“Should that mean something to me?” Jihoon asked.

“It means you’re going on a walk. With me.” [Name] said, matter of factly.

Jihoon only blinked up at her, not sure how to react. “A walk?”

“Mhm.”

“With you?”

“Yep.”

“When?”

[Name] walked around the table, ignoring the way Jihoon nearly shot out of his seat but nonetheless let her look at the time displayed on the computer. “Right now.”

Jihoon shook his head. “No way. I’m—”

“Busy?” [Name] guessed, shaking her head as she grabbed his coat from the chair and threw it at him. “Don’t care. You look dead and I feel bad since you’re doing my work at the moment. I’m taking you out.”

Jihoon felt his face heat up. Why does she have to word things so weirdly? He hadn’t much time to think about it, however, as he felt himself being pulled away from the room. 

“Why?”

[Name] rolled her eyes. “So we can talk.”

“We spoke to each other on the phone yesterday. And you visit the studio when you’re not working on school.” Jihoon points out, which was all true.

Ever since he had offered to take over for [Name] while she was gone, a sort of camaraderie developed between them. They’d have conversations outside of work, though it was usually to gossip about Soonyoung’s sudden interest in a girl or [Name] telling him about Seungkwan and his rivalry with one of the other hosts for the radio station.

Not to mention, her little stints on trying to get back into the radio station to sneak in some information for weekly Love or Letter segments.

The first week, it was Jihoon who had caught her, dragging her out the building himself and telling her to study for her make-up exams (apparently, her professors loved a good sob story and it didn’t take much convincing to let her re-take them).

The second week, Soonyoung was with him when they caught sight of a blurry figure running into the Love or Letter room when no one else was there. This time, it was Soonyoung who dragged her out as [Name] and Jihoon argued on their way out the door.

It was currently the third week and Jihoon was more than surprised to see that she was the one trying to drag him out this time, though he might see why she did it; she seemed to have picked up on when someone wasn’t looking out of themselves.

“Well, we can talk more. Outside. In the fresh air.” [Name] comments and before he could think about anything else, he found himself on the side of the building, facing a population of trees.

“It’s great the radio station is near the forest, don’t you think?” [Name] said, eyes glancing up at the treeline. Jihoon only hummed, kicking at the leaves beneath their feet as they made their way toward a trail. They let themselves enjoy the environment around them, taking in the chirping birds and the cooling breeze for a while before trying to utter anything else.

Once they had reached a certain point to not see the building anymore, Jihoon finally spoke up. “You’re looking better.”

[Name] blinked at him. “You think so?” She asked, smiling.

She’s been doing that a lot. Jihoon thinks, noting how easily she offers her grins to him. Though, a lot of things have gradually changed in [Name] since she had gone on her break.

 Clothes became cohesive, her demeanor was slowly becoming more like last year’s (though he wasn’t sure the spitfire attitude she harbored this year is going to leave, not that he’s complaining though—he’d rather have a co-producer who can speak up more).

She had done her hair up this time instead of keeping it down or tying it away from her face, letting more of her face become visible. Yeah, she definitely looks better. Healthier.

“That’s what you should look like all the time.” He says, regretting it immediately as soon as the words came out of his mouth. “I mean, that’s what you should look like if you actually balance your school and work life better.”

“Uh-huh.” [Name] said, though the smile never disappeared. She walked a little further ahead before saying, “I’d say you’re looking better, too, but I’d be lying. I wouldn’t have dragged you on a walk with me like this if I didn’t see how dead you were when I walked in.”

“Reading love confessions gets a little exhausting. Especially if they’re just about me.” Jihoon responds, shivering as he remembered a few not so safe for work confessions regarding him and his unwanted fangirls. “Seriously, who even has the courage to say those things to a bunch of strangers.”

“Welcome to my world.” [Name] comments blandly. “Gotta hand it to them, though; some of them are kinda creative.”

“Okay, ew.” Jihoon starts, watching [Name] laugh at his disgust. “You just say anything that comes to mind, huh?”

“As if you don’t.” [Name] responds back, elbowing his side gently. “I’m just a little less shameless about it. You, however, act like you don’t do the same thing I do. We are one in the same, Lee Jihoon, just accept it.”

Jihoon stared at the back of her head, wondering just how true that statement was. From what he’s gathered since his time working with the Love or Letter team, apparently they weren’t any different from one another when it came to working.

“It’s like nothing’s changed.” Eunwoo commented to him last week. “[Name] always sits back there and sometimes doesn’t even talk the whole time she’s with us. Similar to you.”

“Yeah, keep talking like that until you get fired.” Jian comments to him, hitting his shoulder with a folder. He offered an apologetic look to Jihoon. “He just means you both get caught up in your work a lot. Eunwoo is right, though; you do both seem like the same person when you work. It’s a wonder how you two haven’t become friends yet.”

Friends. An odd term for Jihoon whenever he thinks of that and [Name] next to it. Still, he does wonder…

“Are we friends?” He asked [Name], making her turn around. Her eyes became a little distant. Jihoon wondered if he crossed a line for a moment before he heard her hum in thought.

“I’d say a few months ago we weren’t.” [Name] admitted. “And now? I think so. We talked a lot since I went on break. We text each other a lot more now, too. Do you not?”

It was a brief flicker in her emotions, but Jihoon was sure he saw a flash of worry cross her features. He was silent for a second, looking at the fallen leaves on the ground as he kicked them out from the path. Finally he spoke. “Yeah, I think we are. If that’s how you see it.”

“I do.” [Name] said, Jihoon was a little touched at her immediate response. “Hopefully we grow closer.”

Something in Jihoon’s stomach turned again at the notion. He felt his throat dry up as he let the words echo in his head until something finally clicked in him about something. His eyes glanced over at [Name] and the way she kept her eyes trained on the changing leaves. 

Well, shit. 

His brain almost felt like it was exploding. Just when he asked her if they were friends too, such great timing. He did his best to ignore the nervousness crawling up him, trying to find the right words.

“Yeah.” Was all he could offer, ready to give a big sigh as he realized how lame that sounded.

[Name] didn’t seem to mind the one worded answer, giving a satisfied nod as they continued to walk the trail. “Let’s walk for another 10 minutes and then you can go ba—”

“Oh, [Name]? Jihoon?” A voice interrupts, making the two look up to see Soonyoung’s towering figure jogging up to them from the other side of the trail. The blonde was clearly out for an afternoon jog, his blonde hair covered in a cap and wearing warmer clothes. He gave an excited wave once he found himself standing in front of them. “What are you guys doing here?”

“Dragged him out for a walk.” [Name] explains plainly, watching Soonyoung cautiously. Clearly, she was well aware of his tendency to get excited. 

Jihoon was the next one to speak up. “Why are you so excited?”

“Because you two are the last people I’d expect to see outside.” Soonyoung says. “Not to mention together. Alone. Not glaring at each other.”

“I’ll have you know we haven’t expressed wanting to strangle each other with our eyes in the past three weeks.” [Name] says, almost proud at the notion the two of them have had a normal interaction for so long.

Soonyoung let out a noise that could only be compared to a deflating balloon. “Sure.”

“Don’t believe us? Walk with us, then, and see.”

Just when Jihoon thought he could have some peace and quiet… Quietly, he muttered to himself, “Don’t say yes—”

“Okay! While we’re at it, let’s take a selfie…”

Working for a radio station had its perks. Due to receiving bigger funding for its popularity, the station let each segment team have their own office to work in, meaning distractions didn’t happen as often as possible.

[Name] was also allowed to work her own hours without question, meaning she could come in any time she wanted when they weren’t on air. Most times she spent her nights there, working on homework from classes and filing in any paperwork that was needed for Love or Letter.

She let out a groan as she finally pressed submit on her final comment on the discussion board, shutting off the music playing on her laptop before shuffling around to look for the papers she had to deliver to Soonyoung. 

Rubbing out the exhaustion in her eyes before leaving her office, she maneuvered around the office floor as fast as she could to the host’s space, the idea of sleep already grasping at her.

[Name] let out a soft knock, waiting for Soonyoung’s tired “Come in” to signal her to open the door. She let out a laugh mixed with shock and amusement when she opened the door to see two stacks of papers on his desk. “Geez, Soonyoung… Did you wait for paperwork to pile up again?”

Soonyoung only glared at her, though she sensed no type of malice behind it, only an exhaustion she was unfortunately familiar with. His eyes shifted over at the pile in her hand. “Don’t tell me that’s more paperwork I need to look at.”

“Yeah…” [Name] said, waving the thick wad of paper in her hand as she placed it onto the corner of her desk. Something tells her Soonyoung wasn’t going to be able to look at it for a while. “I feel a little behind on work even though Jihoon covered for me.”

“So that means you make me have more paperwork?” Soonyoung cried out, offering an exaggerated cry.

[Name] rolled her eyes. “Oh, relax. You just have to sign it.”

Still, she watched as Soonyoung let out a tired groan, collapsing his head onto his desk in annoyance. “Why did I wait to push all my work? I could’ve done so much more fun stuff on a Friday night…”

“What, like go on a date with a certain someone?” [Name] jibed, covering her mouth as she remembered Jihoon swore her to secrecy about Soonyoung’s love life.

Picking his head up, Soonyoung glared at her. “Where did you hear that?”

“Um…” [Name] started, shifting to get ready to leave.

She was more than glad to not come near it, however, as it swung open so fast, it made the both of them jump. Their heads snapped over to see a panicked looking intern, eyes wild with adrenaline. A piece of paper crumpled in his hand, he shook it in front of the two as he tried to catch his breath.

“Jihoon… Papers… Important… Sign!”

Soonyoung set his pen down, standing up to help the new worker onto his couch while [Name] took the paper in his hand to see it had been an approval request form that was due tomorrow morning.

She handed it off to Soonyung once he stood back up, eye straining to read the paper. “Damn, so much for trying to finish as much paperwork as possible. Why wasn’t this given to him when he was still here?”

“No one saw it until now.” The intern explained. “We tried calling and messaging him, but he won’t respond.”

Soonyoung hummed, as if knowing what he was going to say. “Yeah that sounds like him. Once he’s out of the office he doesn’t respond to work calls unless we find him personally.”

“Yikes.” [Name] muttered. “Well, we kinda need this approval form turned in, though. Any chance you know where he is?”

“Either eating somewhere or at the gym. I dragged him to lunch with me so I’m assuming he’s probably at the gym.” Soonyoung explained. He walked away with the paper. “I’ll just find him and give it to him to sign.”

[Name] watched as he heaved himself onto his seat, clearly too tired to even kick the intern out of the office. He leaned his head onto his hand, picking up where he left off, hardly letting himself breath as his eyes scanned through the papers faster than the last time.

She sighed, offering her hand out. “It’s fine. I can find him before I go home and have him sign the paper. I’ll take it back with me to the station since I come in tomorrow.”

She cast a concerned stare at the intern on the couch, then back to Soonyoung who waved a hand her way, as if to say he’ll take care of him. [Name] was more than happy to offer a nod, not wanting to take care of whatever might come from dealing with him.

By the time [Name] was out of the building, Soonyoung had already texted her the location of the gym with the words “don’t scare him” written right after it. [Name] could only wonder what possessed him to send the last comment but didn’t think much of it as she found the campus gym illuminating in the dark.

She offered a polite greeting to one of the student workers, ignoring the way they stared at her, mouths agape. She could only assume it was because of the way she was dressed—a long coat and a tote bag that looked ready to burst any minute, nothing near gym clothes—as she walked around to look for the producer.

Surprisingly, the gym was close to silent, despite the large population of students in attendance, the music faintly playing in the background as the clinking of metal was the only disruption. Still, she did her best to keep her head low as she peeked around large contraptions that she would have assumed were death traps if it was outside.

She nearly gave up until she spotted a familiar black hat and red watch. [Name] was quick in her steps, careful to not run into anyone as she made her way to Jihoon, who had his head leaning down on his phone.

[Name] opened her mouth, ready to call his name out but choked up when she caught sight of him. Usually he wore the same clothes he was wearing now: black shirt with black pants, and black shoes with the same black hat that covered his head. 

A clear indication he either came back from the gym or his intention was to go to the gym after he finished his tasks at the radio station. She was never close enough before but now she was seeing him and was he always built like some body builder? 

[Name]’s mind could only immediately go to a certain celebrity known for having the same build as she fought off the thought. Composing herself, she walked over machines, offering polite “excuse me’s” to anyone she passed by and giving polite smiles to anyone who looked at her.

It was clear he couldn’t hear her, his earbuds tucked and volume probably louder than she could bear to think of as he kept his head ducked down on his phone. He only looked up when his eyes made contact with her shoes.

Jihoon blinked up at [Name], almost frozen in his spot. “What are you doing here?” He asked, making [Name] snicker.

Straight to the point, like always. “I wanted to work out with you.” She jokes as she fishes out for the papers, taking note of the fluttering in her stomach when she heard the small huff he let out in amusement. “One of your interns barged into Soonyoung’s office saying you needed to sign this. I was on my way out and I told them I’d look for you to sign them.”

"You could’ve just waited, you know.” Jihoon informed, taking the papers to sign anyways. [Name]’s eyes widened as she made eye contact with his arm, which looked like the size of her head from the way he leaned down on it to sign the paperwork. Hercules. He looked like Hercules.

As if sensing her, Jihoon glanced up from the rim of his hat, only spotting the swivel of [Name]’s head to a random spot at the gym. 

Was she just…? Jihoon frowned for a moment, mouth opening slightly then closing it. How was someone supposed to ask their work enemy turned friend if they were checking him out? He wasn’t sure he needed to ask anything if his thinking was correct.

He leaned back down, signing the final page and coughing to catch [Name]’s attention. Jihoon offered [Name] an amused smile as he watched her turn back to him in cartoonish panic, seemingly doing her best to keep her eyes glued on the paper and not him.

“Thanks.” [Name] responds stiffly, stuffing the papers back into her bag before straightening up. She felt a sense of welcoming dread fall in her as she realized Jihoon had watched her haphazardly shoving papers into her bag.“Well, uh… Happy lifting?”

She gripped her bag, giving a bow so fast that she nearly fell over, waving Jihoon’s hands away when they reached out to steady her as she regained her balance. [Name] hadn’t made it far, only about three steps away when she felt a jolt shoot through her as Jihoon stopped her, hand reaching out to grab her wrist.

Jihoon felt something bubble in his stomach as [Name] looked over at him, eyes wide in confusion as he kept his hand on her wrist a little too long. He was quick to let go, doing his best to not focus on how doe eyed [Name] looked as she turned herself toward him.

“Are you heading home?” He asked, watching [Name] offer a slow nod. Jihoon didn’t need to hear anymore as he lifted himself off his seat. “I’ll walk you home.”

“You don’t have to—” [Name] started, only stopping when Jihoon interrupted her, taking off his hat and shaking out his messy hair. When was the last time she saw him not wearing a cap? Usually he keeps them on so his hair wouldn’t get in the way during work. She felt like she was seeing something scandalous, even if it was just his hair.

“I don’t feel comfortable knowing you’re walking home alone in the dark.” Jihoon said, essentially cutting off any argument she had ready. He logged 15 minutes into his watch, the other days indicating 60 or more, mocking him for not finishing his usual work out schedule. He was quick to exit, however, when [Name] shuffled herself a little closer to him as he made his way away from the machines. “I was already finishing my workout anyway. Just wait by the door while I get my stuff.”

He walked away to the locker rooms, ignoring the feeling of [Name]’s eyes on him. He packed quickly, only bothering to change into his sweatpants and shoving all his materials into his bag haphazardly before exiting.

[Name] had been standing by the door patiently, hands clasped in front of her as she rocked on the balls of her feet. Relief washed over Jihoon, glad that [Name] hadn't actually left like he initially thought she would.

Words didn't need to be spoken as they walked out the gym together, Jihoon opening the door for her to exit first, smiling slightly as he watched her face wrinkle at the biting wind. [Name] kept herself moving forward, leading the way to her home.

Jihoon listened intently to the crunch of the leaves underneath his feet while [Name] did her best to kick them away as they walked quietly along the sidewalk. A sense of nervousness bit at her, a little afraid why Jihoon was so quiet. 

Their newfound friendship was built on a basis of quiet understanding since the day she dragged him to go on a walk with her. Neither of them had to speak to one another during meetings to know what the other was thinking now. A single glance at each other gave them the ample opportunity to understand if something was a yes or no.

It seemed quite the opposite right now, however. An unexplainable paranoia followed her as she eyed Jihoon, who looked as if he wanted to say something but wouldn’t.

Sick of the awkward silence, [Name] decided to speak up. “Have you seen Soonyoung’s post?”

Jihoon groaned, rolling his eyes. “Don’t even remind me…”

She let out a quiet snicker, watching his ears burn red in embarrassment, [Name] recalling the post.

hosh_soonie: unexpected guests on my run!!!

His arms had been spread out in the picture, head thrown at the clouds as if screaming into the sky. [Name] and Jihoon right behind him and watching in amused judgment. Neither had thought nothing of it, assuming all the focus would be on their eccentric friend.

A quick look at the comments had proven otherwise, however.

dj_boo: two house cats and a hamster

imdeekay: best producers!

0_tkm_0: pd jihoon looks so good here

notjiyeul: JUST A MOMENT IF YOUR TIME SIR 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️

.kimgi: his dimples omg

user087261846: who s the girk next to him?

[Name] had never brought it up, feeling a bit embarrassed herself as she read a few of the comments asking about her and hoping it had died down until someone had came up to her a few days ago in class.

“You know that guy you were standing next to in Hoshi’s picture?”

“Jihoon?”

“Yeah, do you know if he’s… Um, single?”

The people pleaser she was, [Name] had agreed to ask him next time she saw him, despite the sinking feeling in her stomach when she had agreed to pair them up together. She continued to ignore it as she spared a glance at him. “You seem like you’re getting popular again, though…”

Jihoon rolled his eyes. “Yeah, well I’m not too sure I like the attention.”

“Really?” She asked, elbowing his side gently. They had made it to the crosswalk that was leading to her apartment. A car slowly turned into the same street, making  Jihoon maneuver to her other side when they had crossed. “Some girls have been asking me if you’re single or not. Doesn’t that sound fun?”

“Sure, I guess.” Jihoon responds, ruffling his hair and looking lost in thought. “I’d rather have as much privacy as possible. I’d be more confident without a bunch of eyes on me.”

“Ah,” [Name] hums, a settled agreement coming between them. With such a popular segment like Love or Letter and dealing with the radio station as a whole, [Name] wouldn’t put it past Jihoon to want to have some semblance in his life. “Well, you’ve been doing great at work so if you’re feeling pressure there, don’t stress about it.”

“Well yeah.” Jihoon said, matter-of-factly, mouth gaping open for a moment as he let out an awkward cough. “It’d also be good to have more confidence so I could’ve asked you out sooner.”

Pause. [Name] felt like the wind was just knocked out of her as she registered his words, head whipping toward him. “Huh?”

“I, uh…” Jihoon faded off, eyes darting left and right as he stopped, facing [Name]. “Wanted to ask you out? Like on a date somewhere this weekend…” He analyzed her face, trying to understand her reaction as he continued to ramble on. “Or not? If you don’t see me that way. Or if its too awk—”

“Jihoon I’d like that.” [Name] suddenly scrambled out, unable to control herself when a smile settled on her face.

“Right.” Jihoon said, face burning as he looked at [Name], her face tinting a shade probably similar to his but he definitely didn’t look as cute. “Cool. I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

[Name] nodded, suddenly remembering they had been walking to her apartment. She turned to the stairs, ready to walk up as she said, “Yeah, tomorrow. And this weekend.”

Jihoon laughed, walking backwards as he watched [Name] make her way to her door. “Yeah, this weekend too.”

An urge suddenly seemed to stop her as she noticed him turn around, however, making [Name] go back down the stairs of her townhouse and jogged back up to him. “Jihoon, wait!”

“Yeah?” Jihoon asked, feeling [Name]’s hands reach for the side of his face and bring his lips to her’s. The suddenness of their closeness made Jihoon grab her waist to balance himself as he finally registered that they were kissing. It was short and [Name] was running out of breath from her jog, making her pull away too early for Jihoon’s liking.

“This weekend.” She breathes against his lips, Jihoon squeezing her waist as he feels her soft breath brush his cheek. He only nods, making [Name] pull away and run back to her apartment, scrambling to grab her items as she finally disappeared through her door, the last thing he commits to memory for the night the feeling of her smile against his as he walked home.

#wooa writes #jihoon x reader #lee jihoon x reader #seventeen x reader #woozi scenarios #woozi x reader #lee jihoon scenarios #lee jihoon fanfic #woozi fanfic #seventeen fanfic #woozi imagine #lee jihoon imagine #seventeen fluff #lee jihoon fluff #woozi fluff #seventeen fic #lee jihoon fic #woozi fic #seventeen scenario #lee jihoon scenario #woozi scenario #lee jihoon x you #woozi x you

[isshua]

Breaking the Wall (Find Comfort in Those Who Might Hear You)

Sagau Xiao x Reader

I haven’t been feeling great lately, so I decided to write this little story to cheer myself up. I had this idea about what might happen if Teyvat’s environment were to reflect your emotions whenever you logged on, and by extension whatever character you are currently playing as. I also wanted to write my own play on a character “breaking the fourth wall” in order to communicate with their player. This story follows the more classic sagau trope of how the characters are semi-aware of the fact that they’re living in a videogame but view it as a sort of boundary between their world and ours.

Xiao is a huge comfort character to me and I mostly wrote this for myself as a way to cheer myself up. I thought it came out okay though, so I decided to share it here. Hope you guys enjoy! :)

To break the Wall meant instant termination.

  Teyvat made this clear. It would not allow its people to make contact with the divine world. Forging a connection that extended beyond the mechanics of life was simply not meant to be. The Vessels could communicate with the Creator within the bounds of Teyvat’s laws; that was what being a Vessel was all about in the first place. For non-Vessels, then such hopes for communication with the God Above All Gods was impossible. That was how Teyvat was designed. That was how things were meant to be.

  Xiao, typically, did not mind following the rules. After all, he was an immortal being with thousands of years of experience in his belt. He knew attempting to break the Wall would result in his death. Long ago, before he had been chosen to be one of the Creator’s envoys, he hadn’t even cared about the Wall. Why would he want to break it? Meddling in such matters was not of his concern. His duty was to protect Liyue, nothing more.

  But then he got to know you. And his feelings for you only grew. When you chose to, you guided him through his daily tasks with kind words and praising whispers. When your golden light possessed him, his karmic debt would dissipate and he would feel a thousand years younger than he really was. You took him to places he never dreamed of seeing: the peaks of Dragonspine, the streets of Inazuma City, the dunes of the Sumeru desert. With you, there was a sense of adventure. With you, there was excitement. With you, he felt whole.

  You did not speak often, not that he was bothered by it. He was an introverted soul, one who appreciated the silence between the two of you whenever you would travel together. Occasionally you would comment on the environment or the enemy he was fighting. Sometimes you grew frustrated after completing domains-not with him, he understood, but rather with the horribly mediocre artifacts the two of you would receive. He liked it when you laughed. The noise was so clear and invigorating, he found himself hoping to hear it every time you appeared. He liked when you would softly hum some unknown tune from the faraway land you inhabited. He loved it when you acknowledged him, how he was a stronger and better version of himself only because of your dedication to him despite knowing the many sins he has committed. If you could have known the impact you had on him, you might find it amusing to see how easy it had been to steal the aloof Yaksha’s heart.

  There were so many things about you that he loved. But there was one single thing he hated.

  He hated it when you cried.

  The day began as a typical one. You had not possessed him for the entire week, not that this was something to be worried by. You typically did disappear due to some strange thing called ‘college,’ but you always came back. Xiao largely spent his day patrolling Dihua Marsh, slaying monsters, and saving the occasional mortal from dying at the hands of hilichurl tribes. He did not interact with anyone beyond stiff acknowledgment; the only person he did talk to on a regular basis was the Traveler, and the last he heard of them, they were somewhere in Sumeru, ever exploring, always curious.

  Your presence was not anticipated, but it was welcomed. When your golden light descended upon him during late afternoon and he felt your presence tugging at his mind, he felt contentedly unsurprised. Your voice echoed his name: “Xiao. Let me in.”

  He did not resist and allowed your influence to settle within his body. “You called?” he murmured, halfheartedly hoping for a reply. You never did answer him whenever he greeted you, but that was due to the Wall. Conversations were strictly one-way.

  He waited for you to take control. Whether it meant being teleported somewhere or just taking off into Dihua Marsh, he knew the two of you would be off eventually. He waited. And waited. A minute went by. He did not move.

  “Your Grace?” he called out, puzzled. He could feel you, he knew you were there. So why weren’t you interacting? Surely you didn’t appear just to stare at him, right? What is going on?

  Something wet fell onto his hand.

  He looked up at the sky and immediately noticed the ugly gray clouds gathering overhead. A filter of mundane color cast out the light of the sun. Droplets of rain started pattering down onto his face, his hair, and his clothes, leaving him drenched. But he did not stop staring. Because within his head, he could hear soft sobbing.

  The Creator was weeping. And so Teyvat weeped along with them.

  The first thing he felt was anger. Who hurt you? he wanted to ask. Who would dare make you cry? But as he listened to your cries and watched the rain come down, he realized that anger would do nothing to help. He could not solve your problems. After all, he was in Teyvat, and you were somewhere else entirely. His second reaction was to comfort you, but he could think of nothing to say. The issue of you two being separated was still in effect. The Wall would not allow him to offer you any consoling words. He had no choice but to let you suffer alone.

  But by the Archons, you were making his heart ache. Xiao was one to usually think that tears were for the weak, but he could not make himself see you in a pathetic light. Would it not be pitiful of him to deem his Creator as a lamentable coward? He didn’t even know why you were crying. You could be in danger!

  That’s when he decided. I have to make contact with them.

  It was a nearly impossible feat. But he knew he could do it.

  Break the Wall. Establish communication.

  He had never heard of anyone doing it before. Not even Rex Lapis, the strongest god he knew, dared mess with such an unpredictable, mysterious force of power. The Wall was not hard to find, but it took willpower to face it. Xiao didn’t know if he would perish the moment he did, or if it would take time for him to dissolve away. There were too many possibilities of failure. He could think of no way this sudden plan of his would lead to success.

  But your crying was like a million arrows piercing into his heart, and the pain of his karmic debt was rising as he continued to soak in your negative emotions. He was hurting right along with you-but if he could only talk to you, things could be made right.

  Xiao held out his hand, and his jade spear materialized. He braced himself and raised the polearm high into the air. Focusing on the ground beneath him, he concentrated and felt his surroundings. The energy of Teyvat came to him quickly, most likely due to being exposed to your power for so long…and then he pinpointed it. The moment of weakness. He brought his spear down with every bit of strength he had and tore into the fabric of reality. A gaping hole of darkness ripped right under his feet. He did not scream when he fell in, nor did he grunt in pain when he slammed into a glass-like surface after his short freefall. Everything was dark, except for the millions of green bolts of  electricity racing all around him at the speed of light. Your golden glow encompassed him and fended off the overwhelming power this Abyss-like area radiated.

  He looked at his hands. His weapon was nowhere to be seen, and the tips of his fingers were…glitching. In fact, his entire body seemed to be crackling-falling apart and knitting itself back together with technic shrieks. It was a sure sign that he was in a place not meant for him. He had done it; he had broken through the Wall. Now he was beyond it, but where, he did not know. Surely this can’t be the Creator’s domain, he thought. This place was far too dark, and there was no hint of your aura anywhere except for within him. But it had to be the realm in which he would form a connection with you.

  He could still hear your crying, but now, it was less ‘in his head’ and much more clear. Xiao walked forward, his footsteps echoing against the glass floor. “Your Grace!” he called. “Can you hear me? It’s me, Adeptus Xiao!”

  No answer. He was utterly alone in this place…but the sound of your crying was getting undeniably louder. Xiao pinpointed on the direction in which it was coming from and took off. With each step he took, the glow of your light grew brighter. He took that as a sign of goodwill.

  And then, he saw you. You were sitting at a strange looking desk with your head buried in your arms. Xiao slowed to a walk and crept tentatively up to you. He had never seen your physical form before, and only had a minor grasp of your appearance from the various statues of you scattered across Liyue and the abstract depictions of your form in history books. To be honest, he had been expecting you to be a bit more…god-like. The person in front of him did not look like an all-powerful deity. They were ordinarily mortal, and possessed no external qualities that differentiated them from the average human being.

  But then you lifted your head to scrub your tears away, and his breath was lost within his chest. Within your eyes he could see countless stars, and flecks of gold were scattered through your hair. All around you, there was an explosion of light, and Xiao was exposed to the warming feeling of your aura at an even greater intensity than usual. This was you. You might have looked human, but you were undeniably, most definitely his god.

  “Your Grace,” he uttered, kneeling at your side. “It’s alright, I’m here now. I heard your cries. You called out my name. Please, let me speak to you.”

  You didn’t respond. The connection still wasn’t there. Xiao tried again. “Your Grace, can you hear me?”

  You let your head flop back into your arms and continued to sob. Xiao leaned back on the balls of his feet and couldn’t help but growl in frustration. That damned Wall was still keeping you and him apart! What more did he have to do in order to simply talk to you?

  His eyes flitted to the strange device set up on your desk. It had the appearance of a box, but at its front there was a screen, and on it was displayed a shrunken image of Dihua Marsh. This must be a divine mechanism. It’s a way for you to forge contact with Teyvat. What…what would happen if he touched it? Would that finally allow him to communicate with you? He had his doubts, but it was worth a shot.

  Without hesitation, he pressed his palm over the screen. There was a jolt of energy that started at his fingertips, then rocketed through his entire body. He shuddered at the electrocuting sensation and refused to allow himself to flinch away, even when every instinct in his body was telling him to do so. The Wall was trying to repel him; like hell he was going to allow it to do that.

  With his other hand, he reached out to you. At first, he was nervous to touch you, for why should a creature tainted by karmic debt and innocent blood be allowed to embrace the God Above All Gods? He shakily slipped his hand over your cheek and raised your head. Your cries stuttered, and your eyes widened open in confusion. You were not looking at him, but rather at your divine mechanism’s screen.

  “Don’t cry,” Xiao whispered. He swiped your tears away with his thumb. “There is no need to cry. I’m here. I’m with you.”

  He desperately hoped you could hear him. He hoped even more that you would reply.

  You had no idea what the hell was going on.

  Today was a horrible day. A day filled with anxiety and embarrassment and ruined expectations that things might go right, only for them to go wrong. When you returned to your room and let yourself collapse into your desk chair, you thought playing your favorite game might cheer you up. After all, losing yourself in a fantasy world was practically the best way to forget what the real world was like.

  You logged into Genshin Impact and found yourself where you left off last time you played: in Dihua Marsh. Your current character was Xiao, and he stared blankly out at you while you waited for the game to catch up with your internet and for everything to load in. But you did not feel any happier. In fact, you felt worse. The events of the day were just too much to simply forget, and pretty soon, your hand slipped off of your mouse as you slumped forward onto your desk and started to cry. It did not feel good to let your emotions out. The sobs shaking your body were ugly, and the tears staining your cheeks made you feel gross. But you couldn’t stop, and frankly, you didn’t expect to for quite some time. These were tears you had been holding in all week; it was only a matter of time before the dam broke and the water came rushing out.

  You did not expect to feel a sudden intuition to lift your head. You did not expect for your body to automatically follow that intuition, either. It was like someone was lifting it for you, and when your blurry eyes raised to focus on your computer’s screen, you were shocked to see that the in-game chat box had a message in it. It didn’t make any sense. You weren’t in a co-op world, and you were pretty sure you were far too preoccupied with crying your eyes out to accept someone’s co-op request. Could it be a glitch? Far too curious for your own good, you clicked on the chat box and opened it.

  Two words had been sent to you by an unknown entity with no icon. “Don’t cry.”

  “What…?” you mumbled.

  More messages appeared. “There is no need to cry.”

  “I’m here.”

  “I’m with you.”

  This had to be some sort of joke. Someone hacked your account. This had to be a real person.

  It was then that you noticed Xiao was gone.

  “I know what it feels like to break. I understand what you are feeling.”

  “Just know that I am here for you. I will always be here for you. All you have to do is call out my name.”

  “Xiao?” you breathed.

  You felt the phantom sensation of someone wiping your tears. The scent of Qingxin flowers wafted fainty around you.

  “Yes,” the chat-box answered. “I am here.”

#genshin impact sagau #genshin sagau #sagau #self aware genshin #sagau x reader #xiao x reader #adeptus xiao #genshin impact fanfiction #xiao fanfic #I love xiao #he's so babygirl

[justjams2003]

Between Two Gods: 1-Public Display

This is highly inspired by @oh-for-fic-sake's work which I have been binge reading recently on my second blog. Now, I am a firm believer that the MCU and DCEU should not mix. They don't belong together. But this idea just had me salivating and I'd do anything for good smut. If you'd like a prequel or sequel, I'd be happy to oblige. If there even are still people who read a/b/o fics, other than myself.

Pairing: Thor Odinson x reader x Clark Kent

Summary: While you and your mates are at the knot-friendly beach, you can't help but want to get frisky.

Warnings: threesome, mxm, fxm, mxfxm, p in v, semi-blowjob, a/b/o, knotting, meantions of heats and rutting, exhibitionism, voyeurism, public sex, mixing of universes, talk about pregnancy (but no actual pregnancy), afab reader, no mention of skin colour or weight. If there are any more please do tell.

Word count: 2,7k

You’re not sure how exactly you ended up in this situation. You’re the most envied woman on the planet. Gossip blogs, and news articles were all over you. The first mate of two in thousands of years. And not any two either, mated to the two strongest alphas on the planet, and beyond. Thor Odinson, the God of Thunder, prince of the nine realms. And Superman, the God amongst men.

Not everyone knew about Superman, everyone did know about Clark Kent. Mated to one of the most famous journalists and the God of Thunder? All to this young twenty-year-old girl. It was a shock to be sure and you can’t help but drink up every moment of it.

Even now, as you relax on the omega/alpha beach you can’t help but love every second of it. Thor, as usual, has gone off to make friends. His beautiful long blonde sand colour hair sways in the win as he jumps to slam the volleyball back up in the air. His stomach muscles strain and you can’t help but feel yourself get hot and heavy.

“You enjoying the view?” Clark asks with a smirk pulling you closer to his side. “I’m sure he can smell you from all the way over there.” You smirk, leaning into to him. “And you’re telling me you aren’t enjoying his preening too?” The man of steel chuckles.

“How can I not? I’ve got the prettiest omega in the world stuck to my side with another alpha who loves fucking her with me.” You smirk, pushing one of his legs between your own and grinding his knee against your slit, begging for some sort of friction. “Speaking of fucking...”

You can hear him groan and roll his eyes. You can’t help but smirk at his reaction and pull yourself closer to him. Slotting your nose against his neck, scenting his smile and Thor’s own mark on the man of steel. Licking and nipping at that very same sensitive spot. You can tell Clark is struggling with his own mind, his hand gripping tighter to your ass.

“Omega, you’re testing me...” he mutters, trying to keep his composure and tune out your mewling noises. Or the fact that these already small swim shorts get even smaller. Tighter and tighter every time that you lick and suck on those sensitive nerves of his.

“It's a knot-friendly beach, no one here would care. In fact, I’m pretty sure they’d even enjoy the show.” You whisper into his ear, making small circles on his chest and then trailing lower. “Yes, everyone else on the planet too. I’m not exactly keen on having my cock plastered on the daily planet.”

You groan out, then see Thor very well heard how frustrated you are and you’re sure smell it too. “Fine, I’ll ask Thor then.” You huff, going to stand and give him the best puppy eyes you could. You know very well he’d do it in a heartbeat. Public knotting isn’t just normal on Asgard but smiled upon. Even done to boost morale.

You remember how strange he found it. When you and Clark met him for the first time, seeking him out after the attack on New York, you had gone into immediate heat. Sending both the boy into a rut. Thor insisted on taking you there and then, but with much, much self-control from Kal, you three managed to make it back to you and Clark’s farmhouse.

Kal grabs you by your wrist, he knows if your go to Thor he’ll make a big spectacle of it. Everyone will be involved and invited to watch. If he does it perhaps it can happen more quietly. He grabs you by the back of your neck, he himself sitting more upright. He pulls you in close and whispers in your ear.

“You want to be fucked?” He asks, knowing the answer, he can smell the answer from you. You smirked, biting your lip and giving a curt nod. He also smirks and lays back down on his beach chair. He tilts his head to his growing cock and nods. You gasp out with a wide smile, “You mean it?” He smiles and nods again.

“This is a knot-friendly beach. Nothing done here should be new or even considered publish-worthy.” He shrugs, more so reasoning with himself than with you. He loves seeing his little omega so excited. You reach down his shorts and allow his massive cock to spring free from its imprisonment.

You can already see his bright blue irises turning an intoxicating black-blue colour. Like that in which the creepiest sea creatures drift in the fast ocean. A colour you and Thor both like to call sex-blue. Thor also had his very own variation of sex-blue.

The pre-cum leaks from his throbbing, red and sensitive tip. Like a kitten, you lap it up with your cute pink tongue. From the very top down to the base of his hairy abdomen. He watches your every move. Like a starving child, you lick every inch of him, wetting him with your own spit.

Then you move his legs in between your knees. You pull on the green bows tying your bikini bottom together. Clark's eyes consume every inch of you, watching the small cloth fall and reveal your mound. “See? I told you and Thor there is a good reason for me to wear these.” You giggle, rubbing your slit against his base.

“So, this was planned all along?” He grunts out, grabbing you by the hips and lining your body up with his. You can’t even reply before he spears you, filling you up from the inside. All that you can let out is a yelp and then a loud moan. He too throws his head back with a groan.

“I can’t ever get over how tight you are, perfectly moulded, huh?” He allows you to get comfortable. And then lifts you back up and down on his huge cock. You throw your head back, it was always such a new feeling to you. One you crave far more often than you cared to admit.

Thor’s senses were going crazy. He can smell the arousal from you and from Clark. He loves it and if he could bathe in the smell he would. In fact at home, he even tried to. Every chance he has, he gathers both of you in the nest you made and fucks the both of you silly. Then after he tries to soak up as much of the scent as he can.

And now he’s sure every other person here can smell it, but none are covered in it like he is. None can join anytime they want as he can. He just loves it. But Thor is smart, maybe not smart like Tony or Bruce. Yet he knows the game his other Alpha is getting at. He also knows what his Omega is getting at.

You want everyone to know and Clark rather keep you both all to himself. But that’s what the older Alpha is there for, to satisfy both of your needs. “My, my, my, what do we have here?” His voice is deep and low and your walls seem to clench tight at his deep dominant voice.

Thor notices instantly, he knows he has that effect on you both. Clark pulls you deeper into him. He barely even notices the other Alpha there, his own instincts flooding him with lust and nothing else. Privacy seems to be at the very back of his mind right now.

“Everyone can smell you two, all wet and sticky. Being fucked silly.” You let out a loud moan at his words and the God can’t help but chuckle. Then he attaches his lips to yours. Dominating your tongue and swallowing your moans. “You like that, huh? Do you like everyone watching you? Such a slut.”

He grabs you by your neck and whispers in your ear. His other hand cupping your tit through the neon green bikini. He twists and he pulls on your covered nipple. Lapping up your mouth. He loves the thrill of knowing that his words only make you bounce faster on Clark’s cock.

“You hear that, my pretty boy, she likes everyone seeing you fuck her silly. Fucking her so good.” Thor bends down low, whispering in Kal’s ear. Sticking his nose into his neck and pulling the scent from his mark. To everyone out there in Metropolis, Superman is the man.

He’s the one who gives orders and doesn’t take shit from the government. He’s the one in charge, saving lives and calling the shots. He’s the one strong enough to carry the weight on his shoulders. But at home, he plays an entirely different role. At home, he’s Thor’s pretty boy.

Clark comes home to an Omega, ready to be coddled and scented all over. To let his frustrations out. Someone who will gladly listen to him and sit when he asks and spreads when he asks. And then his own Alpha comes home. Coddles the both of them and tells him what a good job he did, taking care of their Omega.

Someone to praise and someone to praise him. The perfect dynamic, for you too. Easily filled and by the time your next heat comes around, you’ll be off the pills and pupped up before you know it. At least that is what both the boys are hoping for, they work hard every day to convince you of it... You’ve been a bit hesitant so far.

Though right now that’s far from where Clark’s focussed. Right now all he can think about is Thor buttering him up real good. “Look at that, she’s pulling you in with that delicious pussy of her’s” He forces his eyes open, forcing him to look, knowing it’ll bring him to the edge.

That it does, the man takes you by the hips and flips you over on your back. Fast enough that you only notice that he’s deeper inside you. Thor can help himself, he can’t help but reach down and rub your sensitive clit. Red and pulsing, begging for attention.

That’s enough to bring you over the edge, your legs shake and your walls clench around him. Clark can’t help but watch you pour out around him. Clenching and pulling all at the same time. This too pushes him further, he latches his lips onto yours.

The man of steel can feel himself growing bigger and bigger. He can feel himself forming around you. Pushing himself deeper, until he can feel himself right up close to your cervix. He is finally thrown overboard when Thor grabs him by the neck and gives him a sloppy deep kiss.

You can feel his hot seed pour into you. Like the first hot water to hit your back at the start of a shower. Overcoming and overbearing. Nothing else is there but the two Alphas. One deep inside you, pumping his hot seed into you and the other one throat deep into that same Alpha.

That is until the high begins to fall and you notice the crowd that had formed. Whispers going around, “Look at how big he is!” “How does that even fit?” “If I were her I’d be ripped open.” Clark can’t help but peacock at their shock. Pushing further into you as his hot cum fills you.

His knot is still big, even after the high has worn off. He’s not even sweaty or out of breath! You don’t know if you’ll ever be able to keep up with them. As your chest is heaving, your legs feel numb and shaky. You feel so full and pressed and pulled.

“It seems we’ve got a crowd.” You try to giggle but you’re still chasing after your breath. “Yes, even after I tried so hard to avoid it.” He groans, pushing out his last few pumps of cum before his knot finally calms down. Until he can finally pull out of you, drinking up the way that cum just pours out of you.

“Is this you avoiding a crowd?” You can’t help but chuckle at him. His hands are quick to swat at your ass. “Hey, little miss, this was your idea. Don’t get snippy with me.” He commands, pulling his soft dick back into his swim shorts.

Finally, Thor stands back up but your eyes grow wide. His shorts also have a massive tent, not to mention soaking wet with what you can smell as pre-cum. The God of Thunder knows good and well that Clark would like to get out of this without anyone knowing it's him.

This omega of theirs is bring out a much wilder side to him. Thor gives Clark another sloppy, wet kiss. “Go on, get us some drinks. Anyone asks or takes any photos you bring them to me, got it?” He nods, his cheeks red and flushed, from pride, embarrassment and excitement all bundled into one. "I’ll take care of them.”

And with that Clark gave you a kiss and was jumping to follow his orders. Thor stands in front of you, covering you with his body. His colossal cock is hard to miss. Seeming needy and ready for only one thing. His stature is huge, standing more than 5cm taller than their Superman.

The God of Thunder and the prince of the nine realms bares his teeth and growls at the people gawking. The same way he would when addressing his people. When commanding his military force, when charging into battle. It’s an Alpha command, one not even Kal-El can dismiss. Simple and clear. Leave and forget who you saw.

Not a single one disobeyed. They all drag their feet and most of the Alphas hang their head low. Each and every one of them baring their neck. He turns back to you, he sees you soaking all over again. “You like that, little omega? Does my little princess like me having to command all these people, all these Alphas, to stop gawking?”

He pulls you closer by your feet. Scenting his and Clark’s mark on your neck. Licking and sucking all the spots he knows so well. “To stop staring at this beautiful pussy. At what’s mine?” You bare your neck, knowing you’re going to get one hell of a punishment for manipulating Clark like that.

“Why don’t I throw you over my shoulder? Parade you around town, since you want everyone to look.” You gasp, he wouldn’t! He chuckles at your reaction. “I don’t think my pretty boy would like that very much and he’s not the one being punished here.” You bite your lip, he knows that you know what you did.

Just then Clark returns with the drinks. Thor smiles at him, tying the strings of your bikini back up again and picking you up. He places you down on your feet, “Go, clean yourself off while the Alpha’s talk, yeah?” He gives you a light smack on your bottom. You know defying will only worsen your situation. You jump and scurry off.

Thor smirks and pulls Clark into his lap. Grabbing the drink and taking a long sip. Superman can feel his Alpha’s dick on his back. Huge and heavy. He can feel him scenting his mark and growing even bigger. “So mean of that little one, huh? Using you like this...”

He trails off, pulling Clark just a bit closer and grinding into his ass. “I might just do the same. Just look at what you do to me...” Kal can’t help but moan and lean into Thor at the thought. His chuckle is dark and ruthless. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? I can feel it.”

Thor’s hands wander, groping Clark's wet and semi-hard cock. “It’s okay pretty boy, we won’t do that, not yet anyways. Considering that that little one needs a punishment. You can choose after all.” They both can help but grin at the thought, watching as your soaking body walks across the sand.

#thor shirtless #thor fanfiction #thor odinson #thor #thor x you #thor x reader #thor odinson x you #thor odinson x y/n #thor odinson x reader #clark kent x y/n #clark kent x you #clark kent x female reader #clark kent x reader #superman x y/n #superman x you #superman x reader #thor x reader x clark kent #thor x reader x superman #thor odinson x reader x clark kent #thor odinson x reader x superman #alpha!thor #alpha!thor x reader #alpha!thor x omega!reader #alpha!superman #alpha!clark kent #thor x superman #thor x clark kent #thor a/b/o #superman a/b/o #clark kent a/b/o

[emocka]

The tattoo

Warning mention of attempted suicide, reader has a semi colon tattoo gn reader

Main note: if you ever have these thought please call you suicide hot line and do not read this.

Note: I've been thinking about the semi colon recently and this came to mind

The butterfly landed on: aether, xiao, kazuha, albedo, scaramouche, and Yae miko

Aether

He knew about the semi colon. He had one himself. But imagine to his surprise that someone yourself , so bubbly kind and caring has one.

Then he learned your story. Before your relationship with him you were forced into an arranged marriage. It was a deadly one. The guy was abusive. The marriage was so bad you attempted to take your life. And yet your parents refused to let you divorce.

'I managed to get the divorce granted after I tried three more times.' You said looking down at your wrist.

'Do you know why you stopped your attempts?' He asked taking a hold of your hand.

'I ran into you. Believe it or not it was you.' You smiled at him 'I remembered our time as high school sweethearts.'

Aether chuckled pulling your hand close. He kissed it.

'I'm glad your around still.' He smiled. 'I know it been rough but we're here now.'

You nodded.

'Good. Cuddles?'

Xiao

Like aether xiao had one as well. He suspected you had one as well. The daily therapy was obvious.

You wore a tank top one day. On your wrists sat a butterfly with a name. The body of the butterfly was a semi colon.

He pulled you down in his lap asking about it.

You explained the meaning of it. The semi colon showed you battling with your thoughts while the butterfly showed rebirth. The name was your grandparents name.

He hugged you tightly. You returned the gesture running your hands through his hair.

'Can I ask why you stopped?' He asked quietly.

'Three. My grandparent said they rain hell down on everyone if I decided to follow through. Two. That black jackass over in the cat tree acting smug. One' you kissed his head.

He looked at you then the cat. He gave a small smile.

'Yea those are great reasons' He pushed you off his lap.

'Hug?' He asked.

You gave him one of the warmest hugs possible.

Kazuha

Kazuha had one but it was on his back. You knew he got it after your brother his best friend tomo died. You got one to.

For a completely different reason. You struggled with depression all your life. When tomo died it sent you into a deeper spiral. It sent you over the edge.

Tomo was your protector from anyone and everything.

Luckily kazuha was able to get you help when he found you.

****

He spotted the tattoo on your pinky finger. He gave a small smile. Taking your hand he kissed it.

'Y/N. You've been strong going through all this hell.' He started. 'I know it's been difficult since Tomo passed.'

You looked at him tears threatening to spill. He sat on the bed patting the spot next to him. You sat down next to him. He pulled you close.

'We'll both get through this together.' He said. 'I promise'

Scaramouche

His was behind his ear. Your was on your leg. You had a little ankle braclet tattoo on your ankle the semi colon 'hanging' from it.

He was there to witness everything. The previous relationship, your parents, and your job.

He was the one who rushed you to the hospital years ago.

He sighed looking at your ankle one last time. He got up as you walked passed him. Following you He quickly grabbed you throwing you over his shoulder.

You shrugged and let it happen.

'Were going to bed.' He said gently dumping you on the bed.

You smiled and waited for him to crawl in. When he did you planted yourself on top of him. Pulling the blanket over you hummed a tune. Soon you both fell asleep. Scaramouche unconsciously wrapping his arms around you tightly.

Albedo

He didn't have one. He has heard of it. When he met you he spotted it. It was placed behind your eat with a feather below it.

When asked what happened you explained. You were a victim. It was difficult to talk about but with albedo it was actually easy to spill.

He held you hand.

'Your very brave to fight through all that. It's time you got a break.'

You nodded.

'Thanks'

He smiled at you before holding his out to you.

Yae miko

She heard about them. Didn't think about the impact it had until she met you.

You were suffering from severe depression. With the many attempts you finally got the help you needed.

Your was located on your forearm. The semicolon was on the back of a nine tail kitsune.

She tapped your shoulder opening her arms for a hug. You returned the gesture.

Later that night while you slept a pink fox showed up at your window. Sneaking in she curled up against you. Keeping you warm safe from harm.

#yaepublishinghouse #genshin #genshin impact #kazuha x reader #kazuha fluff #aether x reader #xiao fluff #xiao x reader #emocka.writes #aether fluff #scaramouchefluff #scaramouchexreader #albedo x reader #albedo fluff #yae miko #yae miko x reader #yae miko fluff

[morerandombullshit]

Just A Little Danger... Rating: 18+ (Minors DNI but I know can’t stop you all) Pairing: Hunter x GN Reader Word Count: 1867 Summary: Hunter decides to amp your adrenaline up CW: porn without plot, oral (m!receiving), semi-public sex, masochism, knifeplay, dirty talk, light choking, hair-pulling, throat-fucking, praise, degradation, "facial" (the dirty kind), aftercare (kinda?), pet names used: love, darling, baby, sunshine Note: I totally didn't write this out of pure self-indulgence (I totally did) but this has been on my mind for a while so here have some depraved-ass smut Also help I was listening to Bury the Light slowed to perfection on loop as I was writing this a lot and it was really fucking good (you can find the song here)

(AO3 Ver)

You hum a tune to yourself as you walk through one of Pabu's bright, white-stucco alleys, soaking the sun's rays into your skin. You don't remember which song the tune is from, but you hum it all the same. "Humming again?" a deep, rich and familiar voice says from behind you. 

You stop, turning around. "I guess." you mutter, meeting Hunter's dark brown eyes—in the sunlight, they look like melted dark chocolate. He looks darkly handsome as always does, that black skull tattoo on the left side of his face somehow upping his sex appeal into something higher than space. You aren't the only one who noticed that, though—a lot of Pabu's single women and some of its single men had noticed too, and you can't blame them. 

Stoic, broody, serious and respectful.

Pretty good personality coupled with those knockdown fucking features—men like this are nearly impossible to find, and since you first saw him, you'd wanted him all to yourself. But then there's the hurdle of how Hunter acts on a daily basis. He doesn't seem to want a relationship, plus he has a squad—including a teenager—to take care of. So you took those feelings and hid them deep down, but at certain times—like right now—they kind of burst out in their own way. 

He snorts a bit and steps forward, wind whipping his shoulder-length dark brown hair around, even if it's held back by a reddish-brown bandana. "You guess?"

You shrug. "I do it at random times, I think. It's...a habit."

Hunter smiles a little, stepping so close that his dark-spice-and-campfire-smoke scent engulfs you like a warm blanket. His eyes lock with yours for a moment before dragging down your frame, causing tension to thicken every breath of air you take. "Yeah?"

"Y—yeah." is all you can think of to say, barely hearing your own voice over the erratic beating of your heart. The way his eyes are roaming your body right now isn't appraising—the look in his eyes is pure, decadent, sin, and an unreadable microexpression mars the seriousness that was on his face a moment ago. "You're gonna have a heart attack if your heart keeps beating like that." Hunter murmurs, desire roughening and deepening his voice. Wait, what? 

You're confused now, because what normal being can hear a heartbeat without their face pressed into someone's chest? But then you remember that the whole Batch is genetically augmented in some way. "What do you mean?"

Hunter shrugs. "My mutation is enhanced senses. I can hear it from here."

"Oh." you reply dumbly, thereafter hating yourself for the stupid-sounding reply. He sorts and grabs your waist suddenly, your chest pressed up against his. Air leaves your mouth in a surprised whoosh. "Wha—"

Hunter's mouth is pressing against yours before you finish your sentence. The kiss is decadent and lusty sin, but you can't help the slightly muffled whine of pleasure from it that leaves your mouth. Goddamn, he kisses well. Better than you thought he would, but you aren't complaining—your hands stay by your sides for a moment before you give in and wrap your arms around his neck. He deepens the kiss, but pulls away shortly after, high cheekbones slightly flushed red and eyes wild, dark with lust. You're still catching your breath but you ask, "Why'd you stop?"

You don't know where your sudden boldness comes from, but you're going to roll with it. He laughs and lightly takes your wrist in his hand. "I want you to do something else for me, love. We just need to get somewhere more private."

Somewhere more private ended up being a dilapidated alley everyone on Pabu had forgotten about—you'd found it once, and you have no idea how Hunter had found it. "This isn't exactly more private." you teasingly quip as he has an almost-strangling grip on the small of your back. He laughs, low and tinged with pure need. "It's private enough. Couldn't walk somewhere with four walls and a roof, otherwise I would've leapt on you and fucked you like an animal in the street."

"Mm, this is close enough." you muse, even as your toes curl at the vision in your mind, before Hunter presses you against the alley wall, fists your hair, and kisses you with the intensity of something almost inhuman. You kiss back after your initial noise of surprise, the feeling so good—

And then he pulls away. Smirks at you as he eases you off the wall and flips your positions One of his hands is still fisted in your hair, and he tugs at it a little bit. "Can you do something for me, sunshine?"

"Y—yeah." you mutter, still catching your breath from the kiss. A slow, languorous and dangerous grin spreads across Hunter's face. "Get on your knees." he says, almost murmuring, but you can still hear him loud and clear. Your mind registers what he just told you before it clicks. You do as he tells you, the slim possibility of getting caught only turning you on more. His hum of approval snakes it way down your spine, making a shiver roll through you after it. You notice he's wearing the light clothes he usually wears under his armor, and you also notice he makes quick work of his pants.

You feel your throat go bone-dry as you take the sight of his cock in—long, thick, and the tip dripping precum. Your plans need sudden reassessment, and based off the the context of the position you're in right now, he probably won't fully fit in your mouth. Hunter looks down at you, smirking yet again as lust carves his face into a darker, hotter version of itself. The hand that's fisting your hair pulls until your chin is tilted up and you're fully looking up at him. "Do you know what I want you to do, darling?"

You nod, and the hand he has in your hair tightens. "Good. Now put your mouth on it."

The fact that you and him are in broad daylight yet in a place no one ventures to is the last thing on your mind as you do what he tells you. A muffled noise of pleasure comes from your throat as you take more of his cock into your mouth, jaw stretching to accommodate his girth and size. Your tongue flicks over the head of his cock, lapping up his precum, and he groans, hand tightening in your hair. "That's it, baby. Feels so good with my cock buried down your throat."

"Mmph." Your jaw aches a little bit as you start a rhythm, bobbing your head up and down as you lick and suck. You hear a low whine coming from Hunter's mouth, and you feel his hand tighten in your hair again. "Been wanting you for so long, and now I finally have you." His hand drifts from your hair to your jaw, rubbing his thumb in circles to ease the ache. "Hope you know I'm never letting you go now. I've waited too long."

You keep going, making sure to breathe through your nose so you don't choke. You hear a knife being unsheathed and panic makes your arousal spike. "I won't cut you with this because it's pretty deadly, but I'll keep it near your skin." you hear him murmur. "Tap my thigh if it gets too much, okay?"

Well, you can't really respond due to having his cock in your mouth, but a small, muffled whine comes from you as a form of response. You're keenly aware of how close Hunter's knife is to your neck, but it only turns you on more. You keep going, more enthusiastic than before, and you hear a rougher groan from above you as his hand drifts from your jaw to your neck, his rough, callused palm wrapping around it like a necklace. "Look at you. Choking on my cock like the perfect little whore you are."

A muffled moan leaves your mouth at the degradation with a tiny kernel of praise, and you double your efforts until the tip of his cock hits the back of your throat. You feel your gag reflex kicking in, but you force it back and keep going. It's your only moment of reprieve before Hunter's hand tightens around your throat, lightly choking you as he starts to thrust into your mouth. 

Fuck. Tears spring into your eyes at the rough thrust, but you breathe through your nose and get through it, right as he keeps fucking your throat. His fingers twitch on your neck, and in your peripheral vision, you see his knife shaking slightly. "I knew you could take every fucking inch. Just like the beautiful slut I know you are, hmm?"

You can't respond, drunk on the feeling of his knife near your throat, his hand slowly tightening around your neck like a noose and the untethered, primally animalistic way he's fucking your throat. He bottoms out, and you choke a bit from the sudden shift, but when he resumes fucking your throat, a muffled moan slips from your mouth. Hunter's hand tightens on your neck, and that combined with his brutal thrusts into your mouth is making black lace dance at the edges of your vision, but it fuels the roaring flame of your arousal. 

"That's it. Choke on my cock like the good whore you are." he murmurs, fingers massaging the skin of your neck. "Wonder how you'd look if your face was painted with my cum."

God, the undertone of pure sex in his voice...He bottoms out again, and a tear of overexertion slips from one of your eyes. A few more rough thrusts into your throat is all it takes before he pulls out and thick, white liquid runs over your face. your jaw aches, cum is covering your face, and you're both in a place that anyone could easily stumble upon, but everything except for him is in your focus. 

Hunter smirks down at you as he rubs circles into your cheek, subsequently rubbing the cum around on your skin. Either lust or something else motivates you, but your tongue reaches out to the corner of your mouth and you taste something salty. His smirk grows as his dark, wild eyes track the movement. "Like the taste?"

You don't respond for a minute, your jaw still aching a bit too much for you to speak, but you reply with, "Maybe."

He laughs and fixes himself up before giving you a random piece of cloth from his pocket with a smug, crooked half-smile. "For your face." he remarks when you stare up at him blankly. You laugh and take the cloth, wiping your face clean, before standing up again—feeling a slight sting in your knees, but it's all worth it. 

"Hope you know I'm not letting you go after this." Hunter leans in and presses his mouth to yours for a moment. "You're mine now, sunshine. There's no leaving for either of us."

"And I wouldn't have it any other way." You smile as you kiss him again.

#tbb hunter #smut fic #no regrets #here have this #aaaaaaaaa #send help #ashs bullshit

[reminiscingtonight]

Bad Liar

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Word Count: 1.6k

@vancityfire13 requested: “Bad Liar” by Selena Gomez

Warnings: Things get a little spicy (18+ ONLY)

A/N: Ask and you shall receive. Happy birthday Jo!

[Main Masterlist]

You can’t remember the last time you took some time for yourself. You’re always either off on some mission, filling out mission reports, or prepping for your next mission. The biggest break you ever get is the six hours of uninterrupted sleep that you’re awarded each night. 

Your work focused mindset has never been an issue until recently. Lately you’ve been forgetting to dot your i’s, cross your t’s. Mission reports have been being mixed up, and you’ve been late to almost all of your mission briefings this week. 

After nearly taking Tony’s head off with one of Clint’s explosive arrows during a training session, Natasha had finally had enough. She pulled you aside and told you to go out for some coffee or ‘whatever it takes for you to figure your shit out.’ 

With your head hung low, you slunk out of the compound. You take great pride in being meticulous and having your head in the game, so you were mentally cursing at your inability to get past the block in your mind, or more specifically the person who was taking up all the space in your mind. Seeing as you would never act on your feelings, for now a coffee break would have to be enough to kick you back into gear.

Whistling to a tune inside your head, you finally make it to your favorite coffee shop, a small place hidden away from the busy streets of New York. You used to go there all the time when you first joined the team, but it’s been a minute since you’ve visited. You were looking forward to just getting a cup of your favorite coffee and sitting in the back to take a load off. 

So imagine your surprise when you look up, fully ready to order your daily cup of caffeine only to be met with the face of the girl you couldn’t get off your mind.

Your mouth instantly goes dry. 

“Wanda?”

The last time you saw her was earlier this morning. You had stumbled into her in the kitchen. It was almost unfair how beautiful she looked. Wanda looked ready for the runway while you were nowhere near presentable. Last you remember, Steve had taken the witch to scope out a mission, so you had no idea why she would be at this coffee shop. 

Before you have a chance to say anything else, a bored voice breaks you out of your stupor.

“Uh, no, it’s Claire.”

You blink. 

Eyes briefly dropping to the nametag she’s pointing to, when you look back up, her brown locks have turned blonde, green eyes turned blue. 

You clear your throat, hoping to will away your blush. “Shoot, sorry I thought you were someone else.”

The barista stares back, unamused. “Okay. Well, are you going to order or?”

---

It’s the feel of wet kisses being pressed to your neck that brings you back into focus. 

You shiver, hands tightening on the waist of the woman hanging off your side. 

Everything about her was so addicting. 

When Wanda finally pulls back, you’re surprised there wasn’t a wet spot seeping through your pants yet. 

There’s a familiar look of hunger on Wanda’s face, one you know is staring right back at her. It’s this confirmation of want that sends you forward, pressing your lips against hers. Wanda smiles into the kiss, quickly parting her lips to invite your tongue in.  

Her hands tangle in your hair. You moan at a particularly hard tug. 

Your moan sends Wanda into a frenzy. With a semi-harsh push, you lay back, Wanda quickly following your motion. 

The two of you lay there for a while, fully content to just make out. Soon Wanda’s lips are trailing your neck again. You’re unable to stop yourself from squirming in her grip when she hits a particularly sensitive spot. Wanda doesn’t miss it. 

Wanda chuckles against your lips. “Impatient, aren’t we?”

With careful hands on your shoulder, she gently pushes herself off of you until she’s sitting upright again. With her eyes locked to yours, Wanda peels off her shirt, throwing it somewhere behind her head.

Your mouth goes dry.

The first thing you notice is Wanda’s not wearing a bra. Your eyes focus on her pebbled nipples, hard from a combination of arousal and the cold air. 

An airy laugh escapes Wanda when she catches the look on your face. She gives you a wink. 

“Come on, you can touch. I promise I won’t bite.” A smirk breaks out on her face. “Not unless you ask for it.”

Her words kick you into gear, and you instantly lean forward. There’s nothing more you wanted to do than to taste Wanda’s skin, and with that goal in sight--

You wake with a start. 

Your heart’s still beating out of your chest, the ghost of Wanda’s kisses still pressed to your skin. 

Your case of mistaken identity had thrown off the rest of your day. Upon making it back to the compound, you decided to take a quick nap. A quick nap later, here you are, all hot and bothered due to a very nice dream. 

You know you shouldn’t be thinking about her like this. Wanda is your teammate. Your very new teammate who’s still trying to figure out how she vibes with the team. Yes, she’s your age, and yes, she’s attractive, but you really shouldn’t let your inability to take your feelings out of your pants interfere with team chemistry.

But you are human. And you’re currently so turned on that it hurts. 

Biting your lip, you slip your hand into your pants, shuddering at the wetness waiting for you. You dip your fingers down, gathering some of the slick before bringing it to your clit. 

The pace you set is fast from the get-go. 

Shutting your eyes, you’re unable to stop your mind from drifting to the young witch. Those green eyes. Her airy laugh. 

You gasp, hips jumping at a particularly hard rub. You’re not able to stop your mouth from falling open in a silent cry of ecstasy. 

After a while you can feel yourself getting wetter, but not getting that extra kick you need. You’re ready to fall over the edge but it’s almost like there's something stopping you from doing so. You grunt in frustration, doubling down and rubbing faster. 

Mind wandering, you finally settle on the thing that got you this worked up in the first place. 

A sly smirk. A raspy voice, daring you to touch what’s forbidden.

It’s the image of your dream that does it for you. 

You come with a low groan, face pressed tightly against the pillow beside you.

---

“How was your nap?”

You almost bang your head on the cabinet. Turning around, you nearly gulp when you see Wanda stirring away by the stove. 

Although an innocent question, you can’t help but flush red at the reminder of your dream and your actions afterwards. 

“I, erm, it was a good one.”

“Was it? Well I’m glad,” Wanda hums, swirling her spoon around the pot. 

After a couple more seconds of silence, you let out a huff, annoyed to not find your mug on the shelf.

“Impatient, are we?”

Your hand momentarily falters. “Um,” you clear your throat, “just want a cup of coffee.” Your words come mumbled out, but you’re blushing too hard to care. 

“On the counter.”

You turn around in surprise. Sitting on the counter was a steaming fresh cup of coffee already set in your mug.

A smile breaks out on Wanda’s face at your murmured thanks. Her lips quirk upwards at the sound you let out when you get a taste of the coffee. 

“Something told me that you needed the boost of energy.”

Choking, you nearly spit out your coffee. Wanda laughs when you grab a napkin to clean up your mess. 

“Careful now.”

With the number of times you’ve embarrassed yourself in the span of a couple minutes, you really should have just stayed in bed. When you push off the counter, ready to make yourself scarce before you can make an even bigger fool of yourself, Wanda pipes up one more time. 

“So I saw something interesting earlier today.”

You pause, giving her a curious look.

“I was walking by your room when I was suddenly hit with a vision.”

Your breath dies in your throat. A cold chill settles down your spine. “A vision?”

Wanda’s still not making eye contact with you, more than content with taking her time stirring the pot.

“It happens sometimes. When a mind’s consciousness is lowered and I’m not particularly alert, I sometimes see projections of another person’s thoughts… or dreams.”

You gulp. “Oh, cool cool…”

A beat of silence passes. All you can hear is the rhythmic thumps of the ladle stirring away.

“Anything you want to tell me?”

Another beat of silence passes. Now you can also hear your heart beating out of your chest. You hope Wanda can’t hear it.

“Uh, nope. Nope, I uh, yeah, nope. Nothing.”

The tension in the air is almost enough to kill you. Biting your lip, you look up at the ceiling, mentally praying to get out of this unscathed.

“You’re such a bad liar.”

Sighing in mock annoyance, Wanda finally raises her eyes to meet yours. The look in her eyes sets your skin ablaze.

“How about we make those dreams a reality?”

-----------

Taglist: @mionemymind, @supersourlemon13, @cantcontroltheirfear, @iliketozoneout, @harleyswanda, @olsensnpm, @invictusbabey, @idek-5, @vancityfire13, @cosmicwidows, @lostandsearching, @xxromanoffxx, @ithoughtyouweresokovian, @3and30aresoultwins, @peabrain112, @wandadarlingg, @wellsayhelloaagin, @useless-nblw, @marvelwomen-simp, @pnsteblnme, @owloftheshadows, @evilcr0ne, @rightwereyouleftme, @xxxtwilightaxelxxx, @gimaximoff, @milfloverslut, @fxckmiup, @froglovemushroom, @karmasgxrl, @thorya22, @natashasilverfox

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #mcu x reader #Ace writes

[dustedmagazine]

Divide and Dissolve — Systemic (Invada)

Photo by Su Cassiano

Divide and Dissolve continues to provoke, even if some of the questions are becoming a bit familiar: Can instrumental music express a politics? Is there anything intrinsically subversive in the fact of women of color making heavy music? Is doom metal the right (sub)cultural space for indigenous-identified women wishing to promulgate a socially conscious, anti-colonial agenda? Systemic doesn’t provide any evidence or assertions that will settle those issues, even as the band’s public-facing discourse and promotional chatter strike ever more righteous rhetorical stances. This reviewer is down for the politics. The music is a more complicated proposition.

Doom metal is conventionally possessed of feeling tones that seem suited to Divide and Dissolve’s project: misery on tectonic scales, anger that smolders and simmers and then erupts into sudden conflagration. Other bands have coupled that tonal range with left-leaning socio-political messaging; for recent examples, see Forlesen’s ecologically minded folky doom, or Mordom’s application of glacially paced bum-out music to the problematics of dope addiction. Even more relevant are many of the records released by the Body over the last fifteen years — see especially No One Deserves Happiness (2016) or many of the cover songs compiled on Anthology (2011). Somehow the political content of the Body’s music is both more and less didactic than what Divide and Dissolve has succeeded in articulating, and certainly it’s a lot more compelling, aesthetically and ideologically. 

That’s not so damning a criticism, given the Body’s excellence, which is tough for any band to compete with. But it’s worth noting. Divide and Dissolve gets most didactic on Systemic with “Kingdom of Fear,” which includes a spoken word performance from poet Minori Sanchez-Fung. Over the band’s cool drone and occasional stirs of noise that evoke Earth’s more recent work, Sanchez-Fung intones, “In the kingdom of fear, a shadow hovers over my cover of leaves and violets,” and later, “I have pleaded to consult the chorus of night, to hold the strands of moon that tether me to beauty and let me rest.” The language isn’t straightforward enough to stir politicized passions, and while the images sustain a reading that underscores women’s productive powers, they collapse into an earth-mother symbolics that feels dated and a little soft, when a more militant response seems necessary to confront the injustices attending our current conjuncture. 

The record is better when the music does the talking, as it usually does for Divide and Dissolve. “Indignation” commences with a couple minutes of woodwinds, interlaced and gesturing toward symphonic textures, performed by Takiaya Reed. The inevitable, deafening entrance of Reed’s guitar sounds simultaneously like explosion and collapse, which is not easily done, and which is a fitting sonic complement to indignation: the emotion moves toward the world with aggressive rage, and also back into the person feeling indignant, who insists on the overriding validity of her feeling, her ideas, her sense of fairness. That’s the sort of interest that Divide and Dissolve is capable of generating. 

Of course, none of that relative complexity controls what a listener might tend to feel indignant about. Tune into the various permanently outraged talking heads on The Daily Wire, for instance, and you’ll hear a whole lot of indignation: Matt Walsh’s moronic (and always creepy) reactionary chatter about the status of the noun “woman,” or Candace Owens’ latest bit of semi-coherent clickbait (this reviewer was particularly grossed out by her defense of the cause of the American Confederacy on putative social class terms). Perhaps doom metal would not be the first choice to soundtrack those bits of rightwing bilge — but I can hear Moonsorrow’s insipid, Viking-obsessed, musical muscle-flexing whenever Walsh or Josh Hawley start yip-yapping about masculinity. 

But that’s me. Music’s nonrepresentational access to feeling may be its most distinct and its most powerful aesthetic property. In that aforementioned promotional chatter, much is made of Divide and Dissolve’s investment in the unifying power of non-verbal communication, and the undervalued extent of that non-verbal communication’s presence in our lives and experiences. But the non-verbal is still socially constructed and patently representational. See the recent transformation of the thumb-to-forefinger “OK” sign into an emblem for white power, which occurred through the functionality of social media-driven symbolics. Divide and Dissolve make heavy music, and these are indeed heavy times. To intervene effectively, the heaviness may need the iterative and representational power of the verbal. And when it’s invoked, that language may need to be political, focused and forceful. 

Jonathan Shaw

#divide and dissolve #systemic #invada #jonathan shaw #albumreview #dusted magazine #doom metal

[cryley]

source: My Old Man: Tales of Our Fathers by Ted Kessler

MY DAD HAS BEEN FAMOUS LONGER THAN I’VE BEEN ALIVE Tim Healy by Matthew Healy

My name is Matthew Timothy Healy. I was born naked in north London in April 1989. I am told it was quite warm - which has been the case for most of my birthdays. I am an adult now, semi-clothed. My father spent those early years of my life working between England and Australia - back-to-back winters that had deprived him of the sun for almost four years. He told me he remembers my birthday being a bright and memorable time, golden-hued. He currently lives in the house in which I spent most of my childhood. In some ways it exists as a shrine to what once was - our family and what has been achieved. It is a feeling that is comforting and unsettling in equal measure. 

My dad, at five foot seven, a baby-turned-milkboy-turned-welder-turned-comic-turned-actor, was born in the early 1950s to parents Malcolm and Sadie, in Birtley, Newcastle upon Tyne. He lived modestly up north, as a youngster and as a young man, with his brother, John, and their dog, Smartie (a dog that would later come to head-butt my dad in a moment of jestful play, resulting in him losing his bottom row of teeth. John once threw my dad over a wall, with the assumption that the drop on the other side was of equal height to that which he’d just hoisted his little brother over. It wasn’t. He landed right on his head and has had to wear glasses ever since).

He would work between various factories during the day and at night he would pursue his dream of becoming a stand-up comedian. He is a very funny man, my dad, whose charm and passion is articulated through his comedy, and his face exudes a type of warmth that one would expect from a northern English comedic actor. He laughs like Muttley off Wacky Races and whistles inane tunes that have never been heard before, for good reason. 

My dad has been famous longer than I’ve been alive. He was at the height of his fame just before I was born, during Auf Wiedersehen, Pet. My parents being famous was always part of my reality: there are photos of their wedding with a crowd of a thousand people outside looking in, which is what their life has been like. I know nothing different, and it bled into the way I saw myself. My dad was a rags-to-riches character, so as soon as he saw a stem of creativity in me, he knew the importance of nurturing it so that I gained a sense of self. Me being creative was always emotionally, financially endorsed by my dad. 

‘You’re John Lennon,’ he’s say, from the time I was six. He expected me to be a rock star, not in a superficial sense, but A Rock Star. Mark Knopfler from Dire Straits and Brian Johnson from AC/DC would occasionally come around to our house when I was growing up so it always seemed tangible. Rock stars walked among us. Welders, too. Dad has a dichotomy between being a working-class manual worker and a bohemian actor. I remember watching a Michael Jackson video with some of his welder mates when I was a kid and them saying he was from another planet. I thought, Yeah. My planet. 

My parents always taught me that you get the good with the bad. So, if you want to live in a nice house and have nice holidays, then maybe Hello! Might have to come around your nice house or go on your nice holiday to take photos for their magazine. The Daily Mail and the Mirror went in a bit hard on my mum for a while, which was difficult for my dad as he’s not from the tabloid world that comes with being behind the bar at the Rovers Return. He had to deal with a wife who was clinically depressed, being hounded by the tabloids. What does he do to look after his wife? We got through it. And there’s stuff that people don’t know. We found a lot of security in that, knowing that they only knew so much. 

I thought about this a lot when my band was breaking. My mum is on Loose Women. That’s not credible, that’s not cool. My dad is a credible actor but he’s well known too. Am I going to be perceived as an ITV boy-band thing? In the end I had to get over it. You can’t judge musicians by what their parents do. It isn’t going to work. 

There are two things he always said to me, and always after a drink: ‘Be who you want to be.’ And ‘It’s in yer fucking bones, man!’ He empowered me. He acted in awe of me. Not in a sycophantic way, but as if I didn’t need his advice. If I had conviction, it would see me through - and that really rang true. Because I had a middle-class family I could get to twenty years old and still be working it out with the band. 

I didn’t go to university. I worked in a Chinese restaurant, which stressed my mum out. ‘Is this band thing really going to become something?’ she’d ask. 

My dad never questioned it. ‘Leave him alone, man, he’s fucking John Lennon, man.’ He believed in me unquestioningly from the moment I wrote a song called ‘ Robbers’ when I was eighteen. He bought us our first van. He converted the garage into a rehearsal space. His overt passion for us is instilled in our band. When our album went platinum all of the band made sure he got a disc. He’s the band’s dad. 

The character he plays in Benidorm, who rides around on roller skates with a wig on and big boobs, is probably the one he sees the most of himself in. He told me he based it on a combination of Les Dawson and Tommy Cooper, which is my dad incarnate. If people ask me to describe my dad I say, ‘Combine those two. That’s him.’ The slapstick he plays is quite like his real persona. He’s a very, very good actor. It’s not strange to see my dad put on a wig and be someone completely different. When it looks and feels like my dad but there’s something else going on, that’s when it throws me. It’s the subtlety of my dad in the midst of a great performance that can really mess me up. If you’re involved in the physique and the aura and the knowledge of who that person is, when the minutiae of it change it’s quite alarming.

I steal a lot of lighters, which is something coincidentally I’ve stolen from my dad. We’ve stolen everybody’s lighter we’ve ever come into contact with. Superficially, I think I’m more like my mother. I’m quite erratic. I’m passionate and emotionally driven, whereas my dad is more subdued about those things. I think what I’ve got from my dad is my fear of not being proud of myself. Those are the times I’ve seen him at his lowest, when he regrets something he could’ve done, mainly from a creative perspective. I’ve seen him cut himself up over things that I wouldn’t have imagined he’d find that relevant or important. And then I find myself doing the same over a vocal take, or some small detail in a recording, and that’s when I feel him inside me. That’s when I know who I am. 

Matthew Healy is the singer and guitarist with the 1975.

#matty healy #this essay is so sweet and I needed to share it with you all #the love he has for his dad is amazing #can’t relate #the 1975 #ry.exe

[ask-the-friendly-ink-demon]

Some Big Changes Are In Order.

howdy. been a long time since i talked on here hasn't it? im still alive! still kicking, but sadly an majorty of my muse of Bendy has been well. diminished over the years, and i hate that, cause i still remember all the fun times i had on here, all the people i met and made friends with, friends i still talk to this very day, and the character growth we built upon. and seeing how it's a new year now, well. despite my current fixations being on other stuff, i do still think about this place daily because (heavy personal stuff inbound) well. being on tumblr during the bendy phase of 2018 and onwards... helped me. it helped me get through some bad times, bad shit. and overall made me improve a lot better, it was a lot more Positive than DA that was for sure. i still miss some of the people i used to talk to, like Dani, Oreo's Mun, Avi, those kinds of people, but i feel like mostly it's on me being as active as a cryptid LOL, but those people along with a lot of others have genuinely helped me indirectly become a better person. and for that i thank them, and all of you for still sticking around, waiting for when things can continue, they will! no doubt about that, it's just... gonna take a bit before well. i get back into the groove my friend Doodlez has been slowly unintentionally getting me back into the Bendy Muse because i genuinely do enjoy talking about my AU, like writing stuff out, talking about the events, changing up old ideas to make way for new ones, and despite how grounded im trying to make this AU feel, i'll never get rid of the whackiness feel it has to it because one, these are toons, and two, demons LOL but yeah, seeing people genuinely listen to me ramble on and on about my Bendy AU, even if it's just the backstory to some of the characters, it's made me feel well. happy. to finally talk about this project that has made me somewhat famous on here lol (i mean i hope so anyways. i know im not on that big big famous kind of level but, i would assume im well known.) so yeah! uhm, some big changes are in order! i am going to pretty much, try to focus back on this! as much as i can anyways i can't promise that i'll be active 24/7 like i used to be cause im more active on a lot of other platforms and working on other projects but, i can promise that i'll be more semi-active instead of being like an cryptid being spotted once every blue moon. i will be changing up the story an big, mostly the stories that lead up to the current events. try to make them more grounded and i would also like to revisit some old stuff that happened and try to make them fit more into what i now envision into my AU, while i do miss the friends prowler has made, the friends I have made, i thankfully do still talk to their creators like maxx, Luna, TK, Doodlez, that sort of thing, and im glad to still be in contact with them. but yeah, some big changes are once again in order, stay tune and keep an eye out! who knows, you may see something that will catch you eye! that's all, let's hope that this year is well. a lot more kind, and to those who took the time to read this, thanks for tuning in but now i gotta head off, stay cool guys.

#think i'll be going then make these pipes stop flowing! (OOC Post) #what the heck is this? (Dash Commentary) #Behind The Scenes (Mun/Me) #PSA

[best-sonic-soundtracks]

Round of 16 Wrap-Up

BREAKING NEWS: In a tragic turn of events, Sonic Frontiers has knocked Sonic 06 entirely out of the tournament... An honorable mention to all of the other knockouts in the round of 16:

Please please please don't forget that I will be running a bonus bracket after the tournament ends to celebrate soundtrack that couldn't fit in the first bracket and redeem some real bangers that got knocked out! Send your nominations to my ask box so I can add those to the next 16-entry bracket!

Starting tomorrow there will be more fun daily polls to lead up to the round of 8; the last round before the semi-finals! Thank you to everyone who voted in the round of 16, and be sure to tune back in on Friday, May the 19th, at noon for the next round!

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[paigesmaze]

hi!! could i please request an illinois x reader with 65 and 83, semi-fluffy where the reader and illy are looking for something in a supposedly haunted old building and illinois keeps making fun of them for latching onto him and jumping at every little sound? thank you so much for your time, have an excellent day :]

Ghost Hunters

AO3

Summary: (Gender-Neutral Reader): Illinois is always busy trying to find his next adventure. When he decides to try out ghost hunting, he invites you, his best friend, along. And it seems as if Illinois knows exactly how to reveal your feelings.

A/N: Thank you for the request, Anon! I had so much fun writing this, it is so fluffy. If there are any other requests, please don't hesitate to submit them. Enjoy, Loves! :)<3

Word Count: 4,204

Why you had ever agreed to tag along on the trips Illinois would often take was a mystery to you. The adventurer seemed to have absolutely no fears and would travel anywhere if it meant that he could potentially discover some new treasure, even if that meant throwing himself into near-death situations daily.

Maybe you went with him so he wouldn’t get himself killed, or maybe it was because you cherished him more than you cared to admit. Over the years, the man had come to hold a special place in your heart. And even if he didn’t want to admit it, you were his closest companion. Sure, he’d had partners in the past who he looked after, but he never felt as close with someone as he had with you. He would jump at any opportunity to have you nearby when he went exploring, wanting to share every little detail with you. You found it adorable, especially when he would go on and on about the history of his treasures. It was like his words were coming out faster than his brain could even process what he was saying, and though most people would say he was hard to keep up with, you always understood everything he was saying. You hung onto every word he spoke as if it was the most fascinating information you’d ever hear. Though, you’d never actually let it show that you felt that way, as it would surely cause a rift in your already existing friendship.

But there was nothing like seeing him excited about going on another trip, which is why you didn’t hesitate when he asked if you wanted to go on a road trip to Kentucky to visit some haunted hospital he had come across.

In an attempt to “broaden his horizons,” as he put it, he wanted to attempt ghost hunting. And what better place to hunt ghosts than an old hospital where thousands of people had died a hundred years ago. So, he gathered all of his gadgets into the back of his truck, along with all of the supplies that the two of you would need for the next few days, and you were on the road. The two of you had planned to stay at a motel nearby while you spent a few days going through the hospital. The location that you were going to was called the Waverly Hills Sanatorium, a place that you’d heard close to nothing about.

The radio softly played some vaguely familiar tune as you peered out the window of the car door with your chin propped up on the palm of your hand. You let out a content sigh and shut your eyes as the breeze kissed your skin. Though the wind created a bit of a chill on your face, the shining sun left a warm glow on your face. Suddenly feeling a pair of eyes on you, you glanced towards Illinois and saw that his gaze was glued to you, an unfamiliar look on his face.

“Keep your eyes on the road, dingus,” You playfully spoke as you flicked the man in the arm softly. His eyebrows lifted a bit as he concealed a surprising look, seemingly unknowing of the fact that he had been staring at you for a fair amount of time. He laughed softly under his breath.

“God, you always have to be so mean to me, don’t you?” He joked. “You forget who you’re with. I will gladly leave you to the company of those ghosts if you keep it up, honey.”

Your cheeks felt warm at the affectionate nickname as you let out a breathy laugh. Even with the stupid insult he’d thrown your way, he still seemed to fluster you. The way that he shamelessly threw out those little pet names or the way that he would stare at you with that god-forsaken look on his face always left your mind racing. It had always been this way, you two were the best of friends and did nearly everything together. You always told yourself that Illinois was a natural flirt. He was charming and extremely handsome. Anyone could see that.

You never thought that those comments were sincere, though. You told yourself that he was just comfortable with you. You were best friends, co-adventurers, roommates, and nothing more.

You snapped out of your trance when you realized that Illinois was waiting for any kind of response from you. You shook yourself out of it and asked, “So, ghosts? What happened to finding undiscovered treasures in creepy ass caves?”

“Well, I thought that I’d branch out a little, you know? Communicate with the dead a bit, make some ghost friends,” He joked. “Plus, I spent way too much money on that equipment back there and I have got to put it to good use before I lose my mind,” He said, gesturing towards the odd contraptions in the trunk.

You chuckled as you glanced at said items in the back of the vehicle. Seeing the bright lights of the motel coming up, you were anticipating being able to finally stretch after your long six-hour journey. The few rest stops that you had taken hadn’t done much to help with the soreness you felt in your body from sitting in the same position for such a long period.

Illinois pulled into the driveway of the small building, hopping out of the truck almost immediately before hoisting as many bags as he could over his shoulder. You peered at him from your spot behind the truck, letting out a false scoff as you saw that Illinois had not only taken the equipment and his things, but he had taken your bags as well.

“Show off…” You muttered as you closed the doors and locked the vehicle. Illinois looked at you, a wide grin on his face as he waited for you to join him in traveling up to your shared room. You gathered your keys from the front desk and made your way towards the hallway of doors.

When you and Illinois arrived at your room, you quickly unlocked and opened the door, ready to sprawl out on a bed and fall asleep. Before you could even think to do so, you stopped abruptly, glancing at the arrangement of the room.

“You have got to be kidding me,” You let out a frustrated sigh. Looking at Illinois, who stood behind you, you spoke, “You booked a two-bed room, didn’t you?”

He furrowed his eyebrows and brushed past you, a hand on your arm as he walked by to view the room for himself. There he saw that there was only one bed in the room that he had booked. Looking around once more, he noticed a couch on the other side of the room and dropped the bags down in the empty space next to it.

“As much as I know how much you’d probably love to cuddle up to me all night, I can take the couch,” He smirked at you. You looked at the man, mouth agape as you desperately tried to find the words to make a comeback.

Illinois walked up to you, his face inches away as his fingers brushed your jaw. Your eyes widened, wondering what he could possibly be doing. “Close your mouth, you’ll catch flies,” He said before winking and turning away, leaving you in even more of a mess than before.

“Asshole,” You muttered as your face burned.

The two of you had finally settled down a bit for the night, and as Illinois sat writing down notes in his journal, you were on your computer researching what history the Waverly Hills Sanatorium Held. According to the things you had seen, it was an establishment created in the early 1900s as a place to treat tuberculosis, or the “White Plague,” as some had called it. The hospital was only meant to hold up to 50 people at a time, but as the plague spread, the number of patients held at a time increased. It is said that over 6,000 people died in the sanatorium. Surely, you and Illinois would have an interesting experience attempting to communicate with these people.

After a bit more research into the topic, you began to get yourself ready for bed, and Illinois doing the same. After a brief goodnight, you two finally fell asleep, anticipating what the next day would hold in the haunted hospital. You had never really believed in supernatural occurrences all that much, but it did freak you out a little that you might come into contact with something of the sort, not that you would ever admit that to Illinois. He would surely never let you live that down.

As you sat in the passenger seat again the next day, awaiting your arrival at the hospital, you pestered Illinois with questions about where the two of you would be exploring when you got there.

“So, I looked a bit more into it,” You spoke. “The sanatorium has what’s called the Death Tunnel, basically a 525-foot-long concrete tunnel where they went to dump all of the deceased bodies after people had passed. And according to all of the websites I looked at, none of those dead bodies ever came back from that tunnel. They were all burned or buried underneath the end of the structure,”

Illinois glanced at you, a bit surprised for a moment. “You really cared enough to do that much research?” He asked. You looked at him, a confused expression on your face.

“Yeah, of course,” You smiled. “You’re only like, my favorite person, of course, I care about what you’re interested in.”

He turned away from you with a small smile, his cheeks turning pink as he cleared his throat before speaking up again. “Well I’m glad you looked into it because we will be visiting the Death Tunnel, I have a ghost box that we can use to try and talk to some of the deceased that were buried or burned in that very place,”

“Is that not creepy to you in the slightest bit?” You questioned.

“That’s beside the point, we’re here,” He uttered as he parked the truck in front of the abandoned hospital. Clouds hung in the sky, a dark contrast compared to the previously bright and sunny day. You craved that type of weather now as you shivered thinking about entering the building.

You and Illinois each grabbed a bag out of the backseat and made your way up to the entrance of the sanatorium. Its doors were etched with tiny swirls and intricate lines hidden by the decaying wood of its frame. It seemed like most, if not all, of the windows had been broken, as well. Surely a product of the vacancy and break-ins that had happened on the property over the years that it had been abandoned.

Illinois turned the doorknob and swung the frame open. Small splinters of wood fell from the door as it made a loud creaking noise. You and Illinois spared a glance at each other before you spoke, “Well, I’m not going in first, there has to be so much dust in that place,” your mouth fell into a flat line as you tried to hide your panic with a lie.

After Illinois didn’t make a move to walk into the building, you spoke up again. “Are you scared?” You asked, your voice cracking a bit at the end. You cursed yourself in your head. Your plan to appear as fearless as possible might have been a bit flawed. You hadn’t even walked into the hospital yet, and you had goosebumps littering your skin just at the thought of entering.

Illinois broke the silence. “I’m not scared, but if you are, you can hold my hand,” he smiled smugly at you.

“Stop being a fucking prick,” You murmured, grabbing his larger hand in your own quickly before stepping into the building with him. Illinois was awestruck at your boldness. Sure, you two weren’t uncomfortable with touching one another, but it’s not like either of you had gone out of your way to do something so forward.

He pursed his lips together and gripped your hand a bit tighter as he felt it shaking a bit. He liked to poke fun at you sometimes, and being in a haunted building was a great opportunity to do so. But something about the situation made it feel wrong. It seemed like you were truly terrified about what would happen if you stayed in the area. And he hated the way that you nervously glanced around and the way that you tried to hide how shaky your breathing was becoming.

“Hey,” he began. When you didn’t acknowledge him, he started again, “Hey, look at me, honey,” You snapped out of it, jumping a little bit before meeting his gentle gaze. “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, I mean it. I know I made all of those jokes about how you’d be too scared to go through with this, but that’s all they were, jokes. If you don’t feel comfortable here, we don’t have to stay.”

His sincerity made you want to cry. You laughed at your silliness and the predicament you were in. You didn’t even believe in ghosts, it was so stupid that you were getting so worked up about the whole situation.

“No. No, I’m okay. It’s so dumb, we can just get on with it. I know how much you were looking forward to this,” you replied. You met his eyes and nodded, further proving your statement.

“If you’re sure, then we’ll go on with it. But the second you feel like it’s too much, just tell me. And I won’t let anything bad happen to you, you know that” He smiled at you. You gave him a sheepish smile back and the both of you made further steps into the building, turning your flashlights on in the dim rooms.

“So, I was thinking we can try to take some pictures in a few rooms, scope the place out a bit. And then we can go see the Death Tunnel and try to contact some of those ghosts I was talking about,” You nodded your head at his plan. He looked at you once more, affirming that you were okay with everything as his thumb brushed against the hand that he was holding.

You felt butterflies in your stomach, a welcome sensation compared to the fear you were feeling only moments ago. Something about the way that Illinois looked at you and the way that he wanted to make sure that you were absolutely okay with the trip made you fall even further in love with him if that was even possible. You don’t even remember when you started to feel that way for the adventurer. It was like you had always known that you’d be able to trust him with everything, that he’d always be there for you and you’d always be there for him.

After taking several pictures inside of the building with the specially made cameras that Illinois had purchased, the two of you sat outside in the truck, viewing the photos that were taken.

”What exactly are we looking for in these?” You asked.

“Bright flashes or little white circles, I think they’re called orbs,” He answered, flipping through a few more pictures.

“There!” You exclaimed, pointing to a small ball of light in the corner of one of the pictures taken in one of the hospital rooms. Though you were still absolutely terrified at everything that was the Waverly Hills Sanatorium, you had to admit that it was exciting being introduced to all of these new and exciting ghost gadgets and facts. Maybe they were real, or maybe you were just finding things that didn’t mean anything. Either way, the experience was becoming much more fun than you had expected.

“It’s kind of pretty,” You said as you looked at the orb in the picture. It had a soft glow around it and it sat underneath the window in the decaying room. None the wiser to you, Illinois was staring at you as you gushed over how cool the picture was. Of course, he was passionate about his work and the things he discovered, but something about the way that you looked so happy felt so much more fascinating and enjoyable to focus on at that moment.

After you ranted for a moment about the picture, you looked up at Illinois, only to find that he was already staring at you with an endearing smile on his face. That same look he had given you on the drive to the motel.

“What?” You asked. “Is there something on my face? A cobweb? I swear, it is so insanely gross in there I wouldn’t be surprised if I had a nest of spiders on me right now.”

“No, no, there’s nothing on your face, you’re fine,” He chuckled. “We should head down the Death Tunnel. I want to try out the ghost box,”

So, you and Illinois began to travel down the short path that led to the tunnel. You had already clarified with the man how far into the tunnel you’d actually be traveling and agreed that going halfway would be far enough. You turned your flashlights on and made your way about 200 feet into the tunnel before stopping in the darkness.

Your hand still gripped Illinois’s tightly, providing a sense of comfort to both of you. Even though being in the dark tunnel proved to be extremely terrifying, knowing that your best friend was there with you helped ease the fear a bit.

He set up the ghost box quickly as the two of you made yourselves comfortable, sitting side by side against one of the walls of the tunnel. You jumped as the static of the ghost box echoed in the tunnel and filled the air.

“What I said still stands, you know. We can leave at any point, we don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” Illinois reassured you.

You looked at him appreciatively and shook your head. “No, I can do this. We’re good,”

He nodded and switched the box to another setting before placing it in the center of the tunnel. A few noises were coming from the static, but you couldn’t make out any words. Your breathing picked up as you wondered what those noises really were. Were they truly ghosts? Was the machine broken? What if the machine was built to make noises on its own? Questions raced through your mind as the two of you finally heard one word.

“Out,” It spoke quietly but firmly. You two looked at each other, confirming that the two of you had heard the same thing. You both stood up, feeling a bit anxious. It spoke the word again. Then again. And again. Illinois picked up the box, fiddling with the settings a bit before you both heard a loud crash at the end of the tunnel. Both of your eyes shot open as wide as possible before the two of you bolted out of the concrete structure as fast as your legs could carry you. Adrenaline pumped through your veins and your feet pounded against the hard ground, echoing on the walls along with Illinois’s tracks behind you. You could still hear the metallic crashing sound at the end of the tunnel as the word, “Out,” echoed over and over again against the walls.

After the longest twenty seconds of your life, you and Illinois finally made it out of the tunnel, pausing shortly before you realized what had just happened.

”The truck, get to the truck,” You breathed out heavily as you began running again. Getting to the truck quickly, you two jumped in and pulled out of the driveway of the sanatorium swiftly. You and Illinois shared panicked glances as you both fought to catch your breath.

“Holy shit, what was that?” You spoke up after a minute.

“I have absolutely no idea,” Illinois replied. He seemed to be almost as freaked out as you as he had the same questions racing through his mind. Few words were spoken between the two of you as you finally made your way back to the motel, the sun setting in the distance. One more night in this place and you’d finally be able to go home. At least you wouldn’t have to visit that terrifying place again.

When you entered your shared room, you anxiously stood in front of the couch that Illinois had thrown himself down on.

“So, let me get this straight,” You started. “I’m going to pretend like we didn’t get verbally assaulted by a ghost, and I’m going to pretend that I didn’t hear metal slamming against the wall of a pitch black tunnel at a haunted hospital. That did not happen,” You paced around the room.

Illinois watched you carefully and stood up slowly, to not scare you any further.

“Honey, hey, stop,” He placed his hands on your shoulders to stop you from pacing around the room anymore. “You’re okay, we’re not there anymore. Nothing is going to happen, trust me,”

You calmed down a bit as you looked at him. You let out a deep sigh as you pressed your forehead to his chest, relaxing in his embrace. He wrapped his arms more comfortable around you and pulled you closer.

“I should have had us leave the second that I saw how nervous you were when we got into that building,” Illinois whispered, feeling like part of this was his fault for dragging you along.

“It’s not your fault, Illinois, I promise. I told you I was okay with it. You didn’t do anything wrong. Let’s just stick to finding treasure. No more ghosts, or supernatural shit, alright? I think we find ourselves in near-death situations enough already, there’s no need to mix ghosts in with that,”

Both of you chuckled as he pulled away from you, nodding. “You’re right, I think ending up in monkey heaven is much better than dying at the hands of an angry ghost,”

“Who knew that ghost hunting could be so tiring?” You groaned as you planted yourself face down on the bed. Illinois chuckled at you quietly before making his way towards the bathroom to get himself ready for bed.

You two made yourselves comfortable. You laid on the bed while Illinois remained on the couch. You tossed and turned for nearly an hour. The room was dark, and all of the lights were off, save for the dim lamp that Illinois had opted to keep on near the entrance of the room. Every creak you heard from the walls, and every noise that the neighboring guests made caused a surge of panic to rise in you each time.

“Illinois, are you awake?” You whispered. Nothing but silence filled the room for a moment, leading you to believe that Illinois was already asleep. You turned once more to try and find a new position that would hopefully help you fall asleep before you heard a reply.

“Yeah, I’m up. You can’t sleep either?” Illinois asked groggily. You heard some shuffling around before you replied with a quiet, “No.”

Just as you were about to turn to face him on the couch, you felt a dip in the bed before his arms snaked around your waist, pulling you towards him. You froze up for a moment before relaxing in his arms and letting out a content sigh.

You turned around in his arms, meeting his gaze. You waited for a moment, wondering if you should say anything. Before you could even think, you started speaking.

“You know what’s stupid?” You asked Illinois. He hummed, urging you to continue. “The only time that I felt like everything was really okay today was when you were holding my hand. I don’t know. It was strangely comforting.” You looked away from him as you anticipated his reply. His arms tightened around your waist comfortingly.

“That’s not stupid,” He began. “You know, that was all you. The hand holding. I’ve got to say, I was a bit shocked when you did that. Blatant flirting is usually my thing,” He chuckled.

“What? I, I was not flirting, I was just-” You started, sputtering out nonsense. You were cut off by his lips meeting yours in a gentle kiss, his lips brushing yours gently. Once you realized what was happening, you quickly kissed him back, eagerly sealing your lips to his as you wrapped your arms around his neck, one hand tangled in his hair. Illinois chuckled into the kiss before the two of you hesitantly pulled away from each other with grins on your faces.

“You’re cute when you ramble, did you know that?” He mumbled.

You groaned at him while he laughed at your antics and pulled you closer to him, tucking you gently underneath his chin before pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.

Maybe joining him on these trips wasn’t so bad after all.

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