#this was originally going to be part of that longer post i mentioned in my post i made abt chai and the gang a bit ago | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

h4ndwr1tten · 10 months

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𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭?

characters — nanami kento x reader

note — i'm so sorry this came out so late. if you didn't see my other posts, i mentioned that i basically rewrote this bc the original was so bad, and then i went on vacation. it's still kinda bad i'm sorry. dividers by benkeibear.

cw — not proofread (is anything i write even proofread?), established relationship, kinda ooc nanami, pregnancy, few mentions of sex, mentions of birth control, mentions of pregnancy symptoms, a lot of crying, sappy shit, angst, hurt/comfort. lmk if i missed any!

synopsis — after a hellish week caused by a misunderstanding and sickening fear, you decide you'd had enough of not speaking to your boyfriend and reveal your secret.

part 1 | part 2

for the past week, you've noticed that nanami had been taking on longer shifts than normal. in fact, it wasn't normal, because if there was one thing he absolutely hated in this world, it was working overtime. he'd leave for the school early, sometimes before you'd wake up, and come home past dinner or when you were already in bed. what was even more surprising (and hurtful) to you was that he was taking more time out of his day to put up with gojo satoru and his antics, rather than be around you.

you knew he was avoiding you. it was quite obvious, and nanami made no effort to hide it either. during the now short amounts of time he was home, he barely spoke and looked at you. this must have been what it felt like to him on that night, you realized.

you also knew that nanami would come around and talk to you. or, at least, you hoped he would. you knew him like no other—your boyfriend was a rational man who always thought things carefully and through. you convinced yourself that he was still upset and in need of space to think about that night, and maybe even what you were up to during that. maybe he was thinking of the possibility of you seeing someone else, having feelings for someone who wasn't him. by letting him ignoring you, you believed you were giving him the time and space he needed.

throughout the week, your pregnancy symptoms had become more prominent. you also found out that your birth control expired, which explained why you had gotten pregnant. you felt stupid for not checking the date. you began experiencing morning sickness, strange cravings, fatigue, even mood swings. but nanami wasn't there to see it happen. he'd already be at the school when you would be hunched over the toilet. he'd be on his lunch break while you'd be eating ice cream topped with pickles. you would be asleep half the time he was gone, which would help prevent the overthinking you faced while you were awake. you would be elated to hear him come home, but then tear up right after when you realized it would be another night without hearing his voice, without feeling his arms around you.

everyday you thought of revealing to him that you were pregnant with his child. and everyday, you thought of how he might be enraged and leave you for good. but despite the stomach churning fear you had, you were desperate to hear him speak to you. desperate to be held and kissed by him, to be looked at as if you were the most ethereal being in the world. you were desperate to hear nanami tell you he loves you, and always will.

after long thought and contemplation, debating with yourself about whether to confess or not, you came to a conclusion. you had had enough of this distance between you and the man you loved. tonight, when he came home, you were going to tell him the truth.

you were exhausted. you felt like if you blinked once, your eyes wouldn't open for another 9 hours. but you had to stay up. you were waiting on nanami to walk through the door.

and luckily for you, he did. you heard the faint click of the lock followed by soft footsteps padding into the kitchen, where you were waiting with a plate of food for him.

nanami took one brief glance at you before looking back down, not bothering to greet you. you inhaled deeply, weakly fighting back tears.

"hi, ken," you started nervously. he didn't reply, but he began to occupy himself with the mail you left out on the counter, telling you that he was listening.

"i made you food," you continued, "but it might be a little cold. i made it earlier but you didn't—"

"i already ate, thank you," nanami cut you off, not meeting your eyes.

"oh."

your heart began to beat erratically, and tears began to flood your eyes. you kept thinking to yourself that he's upset, and for all he knows you might be cheating on him. you reminded yourself why you were doing this, and that you had to push through if you wanted this misunderstanding to end.

"how was your day?" you asked shakily, opening your eyes despite the tears that were still there.

your heart sunk lower when you saw that he was making his way to the bedroom, and you swore it cracked when you hear the barely there "good" and a door shutting.

with your elbows propped on the counter and keeping your trembling frame up, you buried your face in your hands. this went much smoother in your head. you imagined nanami to have accepted the dinner you made him, take a bite of it at the least, and let you talk to him. but he was refusing to let down this cold front he kept up around you. you were beginning to have second thoughts about telling him.

but you couldn't keep hiding it, you knew that. so, wiping away any stray tears and taking a few deep breaths in, you made your way to the bedroom.

you found nanami on the bed, already dressed in his pajamas and hair free of any product. his glasses were set neatly on the nightstand and his phone was in his hand. nanami wasn't the kind of person to be addicted to his phone, and even though you've been going through it for a while now, him not paying you any mind and more attention to his phone was painful.

"ken," you muttered, trying to keep your voice steady.

without craning his neck, nanami looked up at you with his eyebrow raised. he seemed tired, exasperated, and looked as though he didn't want to talk but just wanted to get it over with.

"can we talk? please?" your voice was thick with emotion, the please coming out softer and cracking.

nanami sighed before tossing his phone onto the bed. he finally, for the first time in days, looked at you and held your gaze expectantly.

"go on."

letting out a breath you didn't know you held in, you began slowly, "i am so... so, so sorry, kento. i know i hurt you and i made you believe that i would see someone else. and i'm not, i promise you. i could never love anyone else the way i love you."

nanami's eyes softened, and you could practically feel the worries of you cheating dissipate from him.

"so what was with you night?" nanami asked, the most he's ever said to you so far.

you almost choked on a sob when you realized what you had to do next.

"o-okay, uh... while you were at work, i found something out," you basically whispered. there was no need for extra details. you were getting straight to the point.

slowly, you turned to the dresser behind you and reached for your purse. your hands shook violently as you dug inside for the piece of plastic that made your life a living hell this past week. as you clutched it tightly in your hand, knuckles whitening, you closed your eyes and tilted your head up. you couldn't control the tears any longer, and the sobs were growing harder to keep down.

"love?"

the name caused a whimper to escape you. you inhaled shakily, trying to reduce your crying before turning around with the test results hidden behind your palm. as you walked towards nanami, you felt as though this was the last time you would ever see him, speak to him, and be around him.

with a quivering hand, you hand him the test.

"i'm so, so sorry," you whisper.

nanami flipped the test over, his eyes scanning every inch of the device. it took him a few seconds to realize what it was, and by the way his eyes widened and expression contorted into one of shock, you knew he had seen the results.

and when he didn't say anything, you swore your heart had actually broken.

"i'm sorry," you repeated through a heavy sob, no longer able to keep in your cries.

you turned around, back faced to nanami as you continued to cry into your hands. the lack of response was a response in itself, you believed. you knew it was over. you knew you were going to have to pack all your things, find somewhere else to stay, and raise this child alone.

that is, until you felt a gentle hand on your waist and a quiet voice behind you say, "y/n, look at me. please."

so you did, hesitantly. you turned back around and peeled your hands away from your tear stained face, but avoided eye contact, or even looking at his face. keeping your head down, you were afraid of what you would see, or of what you would read.

then both hands came to your cheeks, cupping them carefully and tilting your head up. your eyes met his, and instead of finding the anger you were expecting, you found comfort and understanding.

"is it mine?" he asked first, likely to confirm that you hadn't been with anyone else.

"yes," you replied without hesitating. "kento, it's only ever buh—been you."

he nodded, believing you completely. he began wiping away your tears with the pads of his thumbs, even though more would fall every time he wiped at them.

"y/n, why didn't you tell me sooner?" nanami whispered. he wasn't angry with you, however. just a bit hurt and curious.

"because, kento!" your voice coming out steadier than expected. "you have your whole life planned out. you have goals and dreams and you know what you want in life. i couldn't, i can't ruin that for you."

"and i was scared, ken. i was scared that you'd get mad and leave me and that you wouldn't want anything to do with our kid. and—and maybe i'm selfish for not telling you, maybe i'm selfish for hiding something so important, so life changing, and maybe that makes me a bad girlfriend. but i couldn't let you go like that. i love you too much to do that."

nanami now had watery eyes at your confession. despite still feeling a bit upset at the fact that you had kept this from him, he fully understood and didn't hold it against you. and despite already knowing, he even felt elated to hear that you loved him so dearly.

"y/n," he sighed, "i would never, ever get mad at you for this."

you froze, sniffling and looking up at him. the curiosity in your eyes urging him to go on.

"you becoming pregnant wasn't—isn't on you. this was mostly caused by me," nanami said, hoping it would ease and erase the feeling of everything being your fault.

"but i was stupid and didn't realize my birth control was expired," you replied.

"even if, y/n. we both did this, we both had sex, we are both in this together. this is our child."

"i know that, ken," you sighed, hiccuping shortly after.

"then you do know that since this is a result of both our actions, i will be there for you, for us? there is no way in hell i would leave you for getting pregnant, i'm the one who got you pregnant in the first place. yes, this is life changing. yes, i have goals, i have plans for the future—for our future. because every time i think about it, you are there. it doesn't matter if our timing isn't right, it doesn't matter if we aren't married yet. i am extremely confident that one day, i'll put a ring on your finger and we will spend eternities together, with this child. do you understand, y/n, love?"

his ramble was so sweet and so genuine, just as all his other rambles were. no matter the situation, whether you'd be feeling insecure or you both got into an argument, nanami never failed to reassure you and make you feel better. they were waves of relief and comfort, like sudden shelter from pouring rain. like being bundled up in blankets and full of warmth after shivering for so long. like a breath of fresh, cool air after a steamy shower.

like nanami telling you that everything was alright, and no matter how tough the situation felt, he would stand by you.

"yes," you breathed, "i understand."

"good," nanami whispered back.

still holding your face in his hands, he pulled you towards him and planted a lingering kiss on your forehead, and then a peck before removing one hand from your face and down to your hip. nanami squeezed you gently and walked you both to the bed, sitting on the edge and pulling you into his lap. he slid his arm around your middle, then moved the hand still on your face to the back of your head and gently guided you to the crook of his neck. you wrapped your own arms over his shoulders and squeezed him tight, the way he was doing you. you continued to pour out whatever remaining feelings of sadness and relief, quietly sniffling and whimpering into his neck, all the while nanami would softly rub up and down your back, occasionally patting, combing his fingers through your hair and scalp, and whispering sweet nothings and reassuring affirmations into your ear. leaving sweet kisses around your face, into your hair, on your shoulder.

when your cries died down and all that was left were hiccups, you quietly muttered, "i'm sorry for doubting you and thinking you'd leave."

"shh, don't apologize," nanami assured you. "i understand. i'm sorry i thought you were seeing someone else, and i am truly sorry for giving you the cold shoulder and not talking things out with you like an adult. i was hurt and afraid to face the truth, but i realize i was wrong. do you forgive me?"

pulling away from his neck, you looked into his sincere amber eyes, cupping his cheeks. nodding, you answered, "of course."

a small smile graced his lips, followed by a gentle kiss on yours. pulling away, you tilted your head down and rested your forehead on his. both of your eyes shut, your arms squeezing each other in silent reassurance.

"i love you, y/n, and our baby, and this future we're creating together."

m. list

#TRASHHH #i'm sorry this took forever #nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami x you #nanami angst #nanami kento angst #hurt/comfort #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk angst #jujutsu kaisen angst #nanami kento #jjk #jujutsu kaisen

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leclercss · 7 months

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Tainted Love, Part 6 (Charles Leclerc ft Lewis Hamilton)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5,

Masterlist

plot: in an attempt to fix your marriage, you've reluctantly agreed into being in an open relationship with your husband. so far, it's only been your husband that has taken advantage of your recent arrangement until one night out you meet a man who makes you begin to question your marriage.

pairings: charles leclerc x fem!reader

warnings: (+18) mentions of smut, cheating and some swearing

authors note: it's been 84 years since i posted part 5. life has been shit, but i'm back. please forgive me for my absence.

word count: 6.9k

taglist: @ironmaiden1313, @ru-kru, @buendiabebeta, @flwr-quicksilver, @ravioli19, @julesandro, @hornedravenclaws, @thatobsessedreader @pinkangelavenue, @queenofshinigamis, @notleclerc, @paullinne, @bisexualbith, @tempo-rary-fix, @bbygrlllllll, @teenagedreams-cl, @lunamelona, @leclerc16s, @palomaxaxaxa

A few months had passed by since the night of Joris’ party and things were … different. But they were a good different.

The dynamic had changed between you and Lewis and there was finally a positive change in your relationship. Even though you had lied about coming home, specifically for him, he had believed you (or so you thought, or hoped). And he thanked you for your perceived loyalty by basically mounting you and devouring your body with wet and hungry kisses. Leaving his touch on every single inch of your body that he could find with his mouth.

Poor Roscoe was kicked out of the bedroom at some point so Lewis could give you his full attention, with no distractions. And you let him.

You let him lick, kiss, nibble and suck on your nipples before he made his way down your body so he could lick, kiss, nibble and suck on your clit. Doing everything in his power to hear you moan for him. And God, did you moan.

And the moaning only grew louder when he threw your legs over his shoulders and fucked you into an oblivion. His braids hanging loose and dangling over your face. His chain moving back and forward against his chest. His tattoos flexing as he moved in and out of you.

You moaned and moaned, gripping onto his biceps for dear life as he brought you both to your climax, coating you in his cum.

You see, the issue in your relationship was never the sex that you had. Lewis was very skilled and experienced in that department. The issue was that the two of you weren’t having sex. Or, before you met Charles, Lewis was having sex and not just with you.

But it was different that night. For once, he had come crawling to you. And it had now become very clear that you no longer needed to shape shift into who Lewis wanted you to be. And the very attention that you once fought for was no longer needed. No, you could very easily get what you needed from another man. Something that Lewis was now very aware of.

And you longer needed the intimacy from him which was something that you had begged and pleaded with him for, for so long.

Not now that Charles was giving you all of that - the love, the intimacy, the validation.

It was plainly obvious but you didn't quite know that Lewis was scared. Scared that the girl he had married four years ago had grown and changed, and not in the way that comforted him (and his ego). He couldn't control you in the same way that he could before. And now that you had started to change, he could no longer treat your relationship as a one-sided game.

A game that was going to be much trickier than either of you had anticipated.

As for your relationship with Charles, well it was only getting better. You were growing closer to each other by the day - physically, mentally, emotionally. The two of you would find any opportunity to spend your time with one another that you could, within reason.

Going over to his to watch movies or f1, dates around London or the occasional nights out. Even his friends had overcome their original scepticism around your relationship with Charles and now welcomed you with open arms, that was when Whitney wasn't around of course.

That was because she was still seeing Joris - even though it was a very casual, transactional relationship, they still spent time together. Which meant that you had to be careful when co-ordinating your visits to Charles' place.

But your newfound happiness hadn't gone unnoticed by your best friend. After the night you had spent with Charles at Joris' party and after your reconciliation with Lewis, you were a happier person. The previous weight of your marriage was no longer holding you back and Whitney couldn't help but question what had changed. She was happy for you but as a best friend, she wanted to know who or what to be thankful for for the positive changes you had made.

When she asked, you had told her that you and Lewis had patched things up. You had felt your relationship grow stale but following the girl's night out that you had joined her on, you and Lewis came to the wonderful realisation that you were better together than apart.

"So I should thank Charles, Joris' friend, for fixing your marriage?" she had asked you, teasing you.

"Oh, that? Guess we could call it a test in our relationship. Lewis and I needed one to see how strong our relationship was," you had replied. Your performance felt Oscar-worthy.

"You stole that line from Love Island," she scoffed. Despite her underlying scepticism, she finally let the subject go for the sake of your friendship.

You were both well aware that she had never fully agreed with your marriage to Lewis. She had known you before you had met him, through the start of your relationship and through your marriage. And she’d seen you morph your personality and beliefs around Lewis to satisfy him - whether it be big or small. She’d witnessed you go from idolising him to not wanting to be near him to suddenly having a solid relationship again.

There was a few rumours around at one point that Lewis had a wandering eye but eventually those seemed to die down and you had never mentioned anything. So as a best friend, she had kept quiet and accepted your relationship even if Whitney thought that his treatment of you was subpar. It was your marriage after all.

But deep down, she couldn't shake the feeling that there was something that you weren’t telling her about your relationship with Lewis.

“How does it feel to be practically 30 this weekend?”

Charles being Charles practically snorted at his own question. He didn't even need an answer from you to burst into laughter.

At least he found his question funny, he'd been teasing you all evening that you were turning 28 next weekend.

Becoming another year older didn’t scare you, if anything you were excited for the year ahead. But for Charles, he took every opportunity possible to remind you there you were now closer to 30 than 25.

You rolled your eyes as you pushed the button for the elevator, some slight aggression in your movement which only had Charles giggling even more.

"Is it this year or next year that you start receiving your state pension?"

“Charles Leclerc, one more age comment and I swear to God,” you growled.

He's trying his best to hold back his laughter as you throw daggers in his direction but he's failing miserably. He'd been insufferable all evening. He didn't even hesitate earlier this evening to tell the waiter in the restaurant that he was dating “an older woman”. His comment was met with a kick under the table.

He clearly hadn't learnt his lesson from earlier in the day when you fired the birthday card that he had gotten you directly at his head. Something about ageing like fine wine was enough for you to launch it at him.

He let out one last giggle before wrapping his arms around you. Your body tightly held against his.

"I'm sorry, baby," he whispered in your ear which was followed by a wet kiss against your ear lobe.

Your eyes shut from the feeling instantly.

"Mmm... you better be," you sighed. "Or else you can find some other poor woman who's willing enough to lick your-"

Ding!

You were cut off by the sound of the elevator arriving. Charles untangled himself from your body before taking your hand in his, joining an elderly couple in the lift.

The rest of your sentence was definitely not safe for their ears.

As you made your way up to your hotel floor in the elevator, you stood in silence, enjoying the feeling of being able to be out in public with Charles in peace.

He had kept his promise and had taken you to Oxford for a birthday treat since he couldn't spend your actual birthday with you. And it was one of the most romantic weekend's you had since ... well ... maybe in forever.

Maybe it was that Mediterranean charm but Charles definitely knew what he was doing when it came to treating you. Old woman jokes aside, he had been perfect all weekend. It had all felt so intimate and special. From the hotel, to the sex, to the gifts - he had made the entire weekend all about you.

And you didn't know where to begin to thank him for this. It was all so new to you.

Usually, you spent your birthday with Lewis and while he was always willing to splash the cash on you, it was always flashy and never intimate.

Lewis being the extravagant man that he was always took the opportunity to get you both dressed up as if you were attending the Oscar’s After Party before you were wined and dined at one of London’s many fancy and expensive restaurants. Last year it was Sushi Samba. God knows where this years birthday would be.

Wherever it would take place, it was always so loud and extra. A great opportunity to celebrate for Instagram but never actually to celebrate you as a person. You had paid no attention before, that was just Lewis' personality after all. But the more time you spent with Charles, the more you felt that maybe yourself and Lewis just weren't that compatible.

You were pulled back to reality by Charles tugging on your hand as you arrived at your floor. You wished the elderly couple good night before making your way towards your hotel room.

As Charles began to open the door with the room key, you noticed a smirk tugging at his lips.

"You weren't serious before were you?" he asked.

You couldn't help but let out a light chuckle as Charles opened the door, letting you enter first.

"Oh, I was definitely serious about never licking you- Oh my God! Charles ... this is so beautiful".

You gasped as you turned to face him as he shut the door behind him before slowly making his way towards you. A beaming smile plastered across his face.

"Did you do this?" you whispered as you took in the scene around you.

Your romantic weekend only became more romantic as the room was dimly lit by dozens of candles accompanied with rose petals scattered across the entire bed. You couldn't help but notice the bottle of champagne and the chocolate cake with the message "Bonne anniversaire, mon amour" sitting on the vanity.

You turned to Charles once more, this time with a few tears in your eyes, and threw your arms around his neck. Your lips met his in a sweet, delicate kiss.

"I had some help, but yeah, I wanted to do something special".

His voice was so soft that you could almost feel yourself melt against him.

"Charles, I," you began but you couldn't seem to find the words. "I don't know what to say".

He smiled at you softly, your eyes beginning to get lost in his through the candlelight.

"You don't need to say anything, amour, being here with you is enough".

You hadn't realised that one of your tears had spilled over until Charles used his thumb to wipe it from your cheek.

His lips soon replaced his thumb on your skin. They lingered there for a few moments before slowly making their way towards your jaw and down your neck. Your fingers found their usual place in his hair. Your head slowly falling backwards as he left wet kisses across your skin.

"Mmm... Charles," you gasped as his lips made their way towards your breasts. His movements were gentle yet swift as he moved the straps of your silk dress off your shoulders. The soft material soon finding a new home by your ankles.

Charles was an expert these days in removing your clothes.

You found yourself hissing as his lips mouth found themselves around your hardened nipples. His movements alternating between nibbling the sensitive area to soothing your skin with soft licks and gentle kisses.

God, he was so good at this. And you made it known he was good at this through the gentle moans that fell from your tongue so effortlessly.

He slowly moved you backwards towards the bed, laying you down gently as his body now hovered over yours, his lips never leaving you once.

Through the pleasure, you reached out to him and began slowly unbuttoning his shirt, so desperately wanting to feel his bare skin against yours. Despite the slow pace, you were beginning to get desperate for him to touch you in as many places as possible.

The two of your found yourselves entirely naked in the minutes that followed. Your lips never leaving each other until you felt Charles pulling away. Your eyes immediately opened at feeling his absence.

"Ch-"

You were beginning to whine at no longer feeling him but you were quickly silenced when you noticed Charles playing with a pair of handcuffs.

"Thought we could give these a go," the words that left his mouth were paired with a deep lust in his eyes.

You answered with a nod as your eyes moved downwards to take in the sight of his hard cock. A feeling of excitement and thrill began coursing around your body. Fuck, you were so wet already.

"Where do you want my lips, amour?" Charles whispered into your ear as he leaned over you to cuff both of your hands to the headboard.

You didn't answer at first, you were too busy squeezing your legs together to stop the pool of wetness growing between them.

"Do you want my lips here?" he asked seductively as he placed a kiss on your sternum.

When you didn't answer, he found his way to your nipple, giving it a lick. "Mmm..." you moaned but it wasn't enough. You wanted his head between your legs, but the thrill of him cuffing you to the bed had made you lose your ability to speak.

"Not there either? What about here?"

You felt a kiss against your stomach.

You shook your head.

"Use your words, amour," he teased as he stared up at you through his eyelashes.

"Lower".

He obliged, but he was beginning to tease you now. He placed a gentle kiss on your bikini line.

"No! Lower," you growled.

But your tone of voice didn't sync up with the movements of your body as your legs opened themselves up for him.

"Ohhh, you meant here?" he teased.

You were tempted to kick him but the feeling of him placing a long, slow lick against your slit stopped you. Instead, you let out a long moan and your hips bucked upwards towards his face.

"Is that what you meant?"

You grunted. "Yes, please. I want you there," you gasped.

Charles smirked up at you once last time before giving you the best birthday gift a girl could ask for as his mouth found itself wrapped around your clit.

"Oh my god!"

His tongue began working overtime down below as he searched for every crevice and millimetre of your pussy. His nose pressed right against your clit was only adding to the sensation.

"Oh Charles, like that".

God, it was almost embarrassing how desperate you sounded for him but how could you not be when he was eating you out like this? His tongue was working wonders on you. His fingers very quickly joined the party as he began to open you up, preparing you, as he pushed two of his fingers inside of you.

All you wanted to do was grab onto his hair or claw at his skin but you were prevented from doing so by the handcuffs around your wrists. You had to settle for digging you heels into his back as he continued his assault on you.

Charles was trying his best to control himself and pleasure you further but from the taste of your juices on his tongue, to the pornographic moans that left your mouth, he was pretty sure that his dick was ready to explode at any moment.

"Please, Charles, please".

"Please, what, baby?"

He wasn't sure how he was acting so composed right now when all he wanted to do was dick you down.

"Please, I wanna cum".

Your pleas caused Charles to instinctively quicken his pace and only a few moments later he felt you release on his tongue.

He allowed you a few moments to recover from your high as he placed gentle kisses along your inner thighs. He slowly pulled his fingers out of you. His cock twitching at the sight of your juices coating them.

He looked up at you to see you eyes halfway closed as your tried to catch your breath, your chest rising and falling while doing so. Missing the feeling of you, he pushed his coated fingers past your lips and you found the energy to slowly lick and suck on his skin.

"How do you taste?"

"Mmm..." you nod. Your energy spent from the pleasure he's just given you. But despite your tired state, you want more from him. You wrap your legs around his waist to pull him back against your body.

"Fuck me, please," you whisper between heavy breaths. Your tired eyes met his in a lustful gaze.

Your wish was Charles' command as he secured your legs around his waist even further. He didn't even need to warm you up again down below, his cock slid into you so easily from the dessert he had treated himself to a few moments ago.

"Merde".

He already felt his cock twitch inside you at the slick feeling and he hadn't even thrusted inside of you yet.

"Mmmm... Charles, come on," you groaned.

You were clearly ready for more.

He obliged, his rhythm was slow at first, conscious of your recent orgasm but he soon began to pick up a steady pace.

You felt more restricted than ever as you wriggled your wrists in the cuffs, wanting to cling onto him for dear life as he began thrusting into you with some momentum.

You felt sorry for the guests in the next hotel room, praying that it was empty as the headboard began to bang against the wall repeatedly.

"Oh, shit," you cried out as you thighs began to squeeze around him.

Ready to fuck you into an oblivion, Charles threw your legs over his shoulders and thrusted even harder into you.

A chain of Jesus Christs and oh fucks left your lips and your thighs continued to tremble around him.

You definitely felt sorry for the guests in the next room now.

Charles felt his high quickly approaching. Fuck, he'd only been inside you for a few minutes but you already had him close to his climax.

His lips found the side of your legs and he began to gently kiss and lick your skin but the movements of his hips contradicted his intentions. Despite the candles and rose petals, this was anything but romantic. He was fucking the shit out of you.

And he was preparing himself for a noise complaint from reception as the noises you were both making were animalistic.

"I'm so close," you cried out.

Your cries were quickly followed by your second orgasm of the evening as you came once more. Charles soon followed, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he began to fill you up.

Once he had finished, the movement of his hips slowly came to a halt. Your tired legs falling from his shoulders and back onto the mattress with a light thud.

With the little energy he had left, Charles slowly uncuffed you from the headboard and pulled your limp body onto his as he crashed onto the mattress.

Your lips found each others once more in the candlelight. The kiss, sloppy and wet as exhaustion hit you both.

"That was incredible," you whispered. Charles hummed in response.

You felt your head fall onto his chest. His heart still thumping beneath you but he made sure to comfort you as you felt his fingers run softly through your now messy hair.

Charles lay quiet for a few moments as he began to catch his breath. When he found his ability to speak, he couldn't control the words that fell from his tongue.

"I think I'm falling in love with you".

#charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc smut #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x you

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chrollohearttags · 3 months

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long winded ass post I contemplated not writing but did it anyways. read if you’d like or ignore lmao.

so I feel as though this kind of goes without saying but a lot has changed on tumblr and the vibe has shifted a lot, sadly, not for the better either :/ I thought about this for a while and although last week, I was not posting any new content due to the strike, I’ve decided to step away from writing in general after this month. I could sit here and go on a tangent about how it’s the ‘algorithm’ and ‘dying fandoms’ but to me, this boils down to the fact that I refuse to exhaust myself to be unappreciated + disrespected. That’s not to say I’m ungrateful to everyone who reblogs and comments on my works all the time because I am incredibly grateful! I love each of you and I look forward to reading your tags/thoughts. However, it’s not lost on me that the anime fandom in general is becoming shrouded in toxicity and many of us are being pushed away. We’re in an age where people are seen as content machines and not humans so others feel entitled to their art and feel no need to be kind, understanding or empathetic to that person’s feelings. I’m not wasting my time trying to teach people manners that they should’ve learned a long time ago. I refuse to share my craft with people like that. And to say the quietest part out loud: y’all don’t want black writers around, PERIOD. One scroll through the dash shows that much. As someone who’s written primarily for AOT (not changing btw) and specifically the black side of the fandom, it’s almost laughable at the extreme lengths that ppl have gone through to see it be erased. And I don’t mean getting fics hit with labels or reporting (that failed so they switched to plan B.) since I began back writing in 2020-21, it was obvious that it was the most popular among black girls and I remember ppl telling me to write for them. Hell, it’s the sole reason I even watched. Needless to say, I fell in love with the show and it holds a special place in my heart. However, I realized I didn’t need any of the original material. Not only that, in all the years I’ve been writing, it’s the first time I’ve seen so many black girls resonating and happy with a group of characters. It was the first and only time I’ve seen stories where I didn’t feel as though them being a black character was a hidden secret or toned down to appeal to others (no shade). It was in my face and proud, even if I didn’t personally resonate with the reader or concept of the story. It still felt good coming from a fandom where I was literally the ONLY black writer in it. Fast forward and I clearly see that now, it’s not welcomed. We could sit here and blame it on non-blk (yt) having the problems but that’s a load of bullshit and the only enemies we have are one another. It’s been other black writers who have littered the tags with discourse abt the same stupid topic to avoid new fics being seen. It’s been other black writers who have switched fandoms when they were no longer the ONLY ones bc coexisting is just too damn hard apparently. It’s been other black authors who have made it blatantly clear that they are only interested in seeing and creating stories that are palatable to other races so they won’t be perceived in a negative light or to be seen as one of the ‘good ones’. Even down to not using black reader tags or avoiding coded language. So much so, they are comfortable laughing at anti-black rhetoric being pushed on other apps so as long as their new favs are not the brunt of the joke.

I’m not here to tell anybody how or what to write. I’m not here to say you ONLY have to like one show but what I am saying is that i will NOT be spending hours and days agonizing over a fic for it to be minimized to a joke for a bitch on TikTok. I will not spend the little free time I have trying to crunch and finish a fic for it not do well but watch y’all pile in my mentions to argue over nonsense. And I won’t sit here and watch y’all purposely try to run other black writers away bc they don’t fit ur aesthetic. Fiction is fiction and whether you resonate with it or not, it’s expression. I’m a boring ass country bumpkin from the middle of nowhere, Florida who’s got social anxiety, chronically ill, neurodivergent and is in bed by 10:00. I don’t smoke, never had sex and I literally never leave the house unless I’m grocery shopping. I never have and never will live the life of any of my characters, even the most tame ones. But I write for EVERY black girl and want everyone of them to be seen. The one space where that seems to be allowed is obviously not welcomed anymore. Arguing and trying to defend ourselves against people who are committed to misunderstanding us is pointless. Minimizing us down to ‘baby mama’, ‘hoodrat’ fics, simply bc you no longer like certain characters (many of which you all were writing for not too long ago) is quite frankly clown and coon ass behavior. Watching y’all become enraged by tropes that are used by ever race, every fandom, etc but turning the blind eye bc it suits ur narrative is fucking hypocritical and laughable at best.

I’m not insecure in my writing. Never have been and never will be. I know I pour everything I have into creating the best work I can and it’s for that reason that I won’t allow it to be treated like trash. I have over 250 drafts in my Google docs and best believe, that’s where they’ll stay until I see fit. Although I know it’ll probably mean leaving the last place I have any sense of community and social interaction in general, it’s not worth coming on here angry everyday in defense mode. Its not worth getting out of my character over and I rather just not be around if it means I have to play mean girl. My mind may change and all of this will just have been me getting shit off my chest but as of right now, this account will be archived come February 28th. Thank you to everybody who’s supported me this far and gave me a safe space. I love all of you so very much and hope that we can enjoy the rest of this month together 🫶🏾 🤍

#cherry chats 🍒#tw rant #tw discourse #tw long post #happy black history month lmao #writing #fanfic writer

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bowtiepastabitch · 3 months

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Good Omens Fanfic Data: 2023

Top 5 Tags Per Month

Excludes basic a/c ship tags. Common tags coded by color. Interesting changes or patterns are in bold.

January: fluff, human au, humor, post-canon, established relationship

February: fluff, angst, human au, established relationship, hurt/comfort

March: fluff, human au, angst, post-canon, first kiss (honorable mention: pining)

April: fluff, human au, angst, hurt/comfort, first kiss (honorable mention: humor)

May: fluff, human au, blairamok's #IneffableMay, established relationship, hurt/comfort

June: fluff, human au, established relationship, hurt/comfort, angst

July: fluff, angst, fix-it, hurt/comfort, s2 spoilers

~~~~SEASON TWO~~~~

August: angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, post s2, s2 spoilers (honorable mention: fix-it) (@neil-gaiman you know what you did)

September: fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, crowley is a mess, ineffable idiots

October: fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, post s2, crowley is a mess

November: fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, crowley is a mess, post s2 (honorable mentions: angst with a happy ending, hurt crowley)

December: fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, ineffable idiots, crowley is a mess (honorable mention: Christmas)

January 2024: fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, crowley is a mess, human au (honorable mention: anal sex)

At time of posting there are still a couple hours left on the poll that I plan to use for additional GO fic data, so please go vote if you haven't already. Info about how the process for this is under the cut:)

Data was collected on February first, 2023, using Ao3's filtering system. Each month represents fics updated from the first through last days of the month. Please note that fics are filtered by when it was updated, not originally published, so longer running fics will be sorted under when they were finished or last added to. Unrated fics are not included in the graph, an oversight on my part whilst collecting data, but make up a very small portion of total fics and are often podfics or artwork.

Tags excluded in tag rankings are: "Aziraphale loves Crowley", "Crowley loves Aziraphale", and "Ineffable Husbands", which were consistently ranked among the top tags and I found unhelpful for determining patterns in fan engagement since they are, after all, simply facts. Honorable mentions are tags that ranked within the top 10 tags for the month which were unique to the month or contributed to an interesting trend.

Data collection is all done by me, so slight errors in copying down information are possible. Yes I made teen purple instead of yellow, I found it aesthetically pleasing. So sue me.

January of 2024 was included because I thought the additional data provided interesting information, especially the return of the human au tag (officially "alternate universe-human"), the higher ratio of explicit to nonexplicit fics, and the debut of "anal sex" in the top ten tags. It was a great month for the fandom.

Current other data projects include average word-counts by month and estimation of the total number of words written by members of the fandom. If there's any data or patterns you'd like to see, or questions you'd like answered, drop them in my ask box!

All of this is dedicated to the wonderful amazing writers in the fandom, including lovely mutuals whose work I totally recommend @voluptatiscausa @fellshish @phoen1xr0se @indigovigilance @ineffabildaddy (if I didn't tag you don't read into it, I've got a medically-concerningly bad memory and just popped through my recent reads on ao3.)

#top tags are also here if you expand it #good omens #gomens #good omens fanfiction #good omens fandom #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #neil gaiman #good omens 2 #aziraphale x crowley #ineffable spouses #fandom meta #ao3

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emptysekai · 1 year

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guide to ad-free youtube for mobile via. youtube revanced

since youtube vance is no longer maintained and youtube is cracking down on adblockers here is how to download youtube revanced which has the best options for customising youtube features; including removing youtube shorts popups, sponsorship segments in videos, hiding unused buttons, bringing back dislikes, and more! [official revanced github]

this guide is for android only. sorry apple users idk how to help you. your device doesn't have to be rooted. even if it is, you should still be able to follow this guide. if you have youtube vanced installed, revanced shouldn't clash, so you don't have to uninstall it if you don't want to.

installation guide:

1. download all 3:

i. microg (this will let you log into your youtube account) [apk mirror] (scroll past description, download the latest one)

ii. revanced manager apk [github] (select the latest release, scroll to the bottom in assets, install the .apk file)

iii. latest youtube apk [apk mirror]

2. open revanced manager

3. select in this order: "patcher" -> "select an application" -> "storage" (note: if your phone asks you to let the app have storage access, say yes)

[id. two screenshots of the revanced manager app. there are red markings drawn overtop, indicating areas to select mentioned in step 3. the three spots are circled by a red square, an arrow pointing towards it, and a circle with a marked number to indicate the order at the end of each arrow. id end.]

4. select the youtube apk you downloaded

5. select patches. you can tap "recommended" or "default" or turn on/off patches you want

6. once you have selected, select: "done" -> "patch"

7. wait as it intialises youtube revanced. when it's done select "install" (note: if your phone gives you a warning that the app is blocked, select: "more details" -> "install anyway")

8. if this worked, you should have youtube revanced installed, and you can log in like normal. if this didn't work, read the next part.

(under the read more are troubleshooting solutions + other alternative apps)

issue a) if the botom right now says "open"

1. select: 3 dots on the top right -> "export apk"

2. save it

3. open whatever file browsing app you use (most phones should have a default one that comes pre-installed called something like "files" or "my files". if you don't have one, you can go to the play store and search "files" and pick one. if you aren't sure, i use "files by google")

4. find the exported file and install it (it will be called something like "youtube-revanced-versionnumber.apk")

5. if this worked, you should have youtube revanced installed, and you can log in like normal. if this didn't work, you can read the next part.

issue b) can't build or install youtube revanced with no option to export

1. something may have gone wrong with the file installation at some point, so try a clean start. to do this, uninstall:

i. revanced manager

ii. youtube revanced

iii. microg

iv. (optional) disable/uninstall the default youtube app

2. follow guide from step 1 again, hopefully it works. if it's still not working, you can try other alternatives. i've listed some in the next part of this post

alternatives:

libretube, newpipe, songtube, vuetube, astron, puretuber

i haven't used any of these personally, but i haven't seen any problems with them. let me know if there are and i'll remove it from the list.

you can also use youtube through your web browser with adblock add-ons. i'm not sure whether youtube has affected their mobile site though. with the firefox app you can use ublock origins (for ads) + youtube high definition (for general quality fixes)

#txt #❤️‍🩹#yay ^_^ feel free to rb this i hope it helps #let me know if something doesn't make sense and i can try to reword it or add screenshots #i tried to keep it concise

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roseykat · 3 months

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TITLE: Venom Eater

SUMMARY: Moving on proves its challenges. Not everyone has the ability to accept that what happened, happened - and what was, was. So as you try to lead a new life, single and trying to heal, the journey proves to be far from easy. It’s worse than difficult and more painful than what you could’ve imagined. The only comforting source is that what will be, will be. And there’s no changing that.

WARNING: minors DNI with this post or my blog. I create NSFW SKZ related content and I know I won’t be able to regulate/monitor every potential interaction with those posts so please do not engage with me, my work, or page whatsoever.

TAGS: mentions of breakups, exes, angst, arguments, swearing, smut, slices of life here and there, alcohol (Jisung is drunk but there isn’t much detail on it), confrontation.

WC: 6K+

TAGLIST: @emikisses @linos-kitten @chansbabygirlsstuff @lixiespick @frogieeheart @/fuckthinking @nimx9 @/shishou1687 @inniescandy-01 @konstanceee @/rose13255 @queenmea604

Venom Biter (Part 1) | MASTERLIST

A/N: the long-awaited part 2 to Venom Biter! This was originally meant to be longer but I decided that I wanted to flesh out the plot a little bit more so things will get worse and or better who knows…

There’s never a grey area about what people do after a terrible breakup. It’s always black and white. Whether someone cuts their hair, dyes it, alters their aesthetic, or goes on holiday to escape the reality.

The gym can make for the perfect best friend to subtly take revenge on someone a person once had.

But your new best friend was Tinder. A platform of opportunities to explore and select at your perusal. Providing you with gorgeous men who were looking to fuck and nothing more than that. If Tinder wasn’t the buzz for you that night, it would be going out with friends - friends that didn’t include ones that you made through Minho.

These ones’ you would only see about once every three months then band together again as if nothing has changed in the space between. It’s not awkward when you’re around them and so far, it has taken your mind off the past two months. Since then, your connection with Minho has been one of which where-

“God fuck I’m cumming!”

Minho knows he is too when his eyes screwed shut, laying back as he lets you use his cock, “shit, so am I,” he breathes out, watching you roll your hips in a frantic craze to get yourself over the edge. You miss this.

The way that you squeeze around him is the final straw that breaks the camel's back. Minho swears towards the ceiling, back arching as his dick glides in deeper. Within a couple of seconds, his vision flashes just as white as your insides that he fills.

The top half of your body flops forward onto his chest, spent from the past fifteen minutes that you’ve been riding him non-stop. Now it’s almost possible to hear the rapid thumping of his heartbeat that violently bashes from within. Not wanting to stay in that position for any longer, you peel yourself back, hopping off his body.

“I need you out by seven,” you declare, picking up his sweatpants and t-shirt from the floor and then throwing them right at him.

Minho grumbles but doesn’t flinch, “seven? Fucking hell.”

“Well, I have to go to work so you’re not staying.”

“I figured that,” he fusses before sitting up. “At least let me use your gym here.”

You pause for a second to look at him, wondering where he gets his audacity from sometimes, “fine.”

“Thank you,” he replies then starts donning his clothes as you make your way to the bathroom for a hot shower.

This is what it’s been like for a while now - a pernicious seesaw effect of meeting up with Minho, sleeping with him (usually in the mornings), and going about your day as if he wasn’t in your guts twenty minutes ago.

It’s always a good feeling in the moment but after, there’s a lingering icky weight that you’re tirelessly towing along with you wherever you go. You’re not sure if Minho feels the same because even though you’ve talked to him a few times, there’s no talk of each other's feelings anymore. It’s not that neither of you are ready for that looming and tender conversation. It’s just as if there’s no point.

By the time you were out of the shower, Minho was still on the edge of your bed, fully clothed and ready to leave.

“I’m not making you breakfast,” you say to him, wrapping the towel around your body a little tighter.

“Don’t worry, I wasn’t expecting you to,” he responds. “I need to talk to you about something.”

“Can it wait until the end of the day, because I need to get ready for work.”

He groans, getting fed up, “surely you can get ready and listen at the same time.”

You rustle through your drawers for a pair of underwear and bra, “to other people maybe.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“If you want to use the gym, go now,” you instruct sternly, hoping that he’ll just disappear.

When he detects that he can’t get through to you right now, he gives up. It’s too early to argue, so places his hand on the door handle, opening it for himself to leave and head down to the first floor, leaving you to prepare for another day’s work in peace.

After a quick breakfast, getting dressed and decent, you grab your bags and depart. On your way out, you spot Minho using the weights while you dart past the foyer, briefly thinking about how the time to cut him off is fast approaching.

You can’t keep doing this. There’s no way to move on if you’re both still latched onto each other's ankles like how kids are with their parents. That need for one another is still present.

“Who even am I when I’m not with you?” Minho asked you two weeks into sleeping with him again after breaking up. His comment sums up the reason of ‘why you decide to keep running back to each other’.

It’s not a hard statement to understand. You’ve been with Minho for a long time, you’re both still young and haven’t dated anyone else except between yourselves. It’s like being a dog that was never socialised as a puppy, unable to interact with others because it’s not sure how.

Suppose it’s the fear and anxiety that comes with separating from your favourite person.

The world and society have become scarier than it previously was and life is not as secure when you’re not with the person who can shield you from those things. There’s no comfort, only pure vulnerability, and what better way to feel protected than to return to a lover even when there’s nothing but a feeble spark that’s left over from what was once a blazing forest fire.

Seungmin challenges that particular view of yours at dinner with Felix as well after a long day at work. He wanted to see where you were coming from but also because he’s there to force feed you the icy, sobering truth when you don’t want to hear it.

“If there’s no romance, what’s the point of going back to each other?” he asks.

“They were dating for years Seungmin, you don’t just get over someone that quickly,” Felix responds instead like he was the one being offended.

Dissimilar to Seungmin, Lix will let you down gently and is afraid to hurt you with the sharp use of words that can be sometimes.

“Supposedly,” you mutter to yourself knowing full well how fast it was for Minho to just go ahead and fuck someone else after you had broken up.

“Do you still love him?” Seungmin questions swiftly.

“No,” you respond promptly.

“If there was an opportunity to get back together with him, would you go for it?”

“No,” you answer again. “I couldn’t.”

Felix blinks, not expecting that answer, “well…then…”

“Then stop seeing him if you know what’s good for you,” Seungmin continues. “Those icky feelings that you get after sleeping with him - not good. That’s the regret you’re experiencing and it’ll never feel any better.”

There’s no crack or fault in his advice. Had you not dished out the truth about the details of your messy breakup before and after, you would’ve still been glued to the same spot. It’s important to have someone humble you, and there’s no better person to do that than Seungmin.

“Just keep thinking about it, okay? On another note, Hyunjin’s coming back from France next week so we’re having a dinner and drinks,” Seungmin mentions.

Your mind briefly departs from the subject of your ex, “is he? Has it really been that long?”

“Yeah,” Felix replies, also surprised. “You’re coming right? We’re going to have a few drinks too, and catch up.”

“What time?” You ask.

“Around six,” Seungmin answers. “Does Minho know?”

“Not that I’m aware of,” you shrug, the thought of him returning to your mind once again. “I don’t know if he’d have any interest in going since they’re not friends anymore.”

Felix recalls that factor, “that’s right. But, if the rest of us are going to be there, we should invite him too, no? Unless it’s too difficult for y-”

“It won’t be difficult,” you reply, punctuating the rest of Felix’s sentence a little too quickly. “He and I can get along for about…ten minutes before things go sour. Plus, I don’t mind not going if he wants to. I can always catch up with Hyunjin another day.”

“You’re our friend too, remember? Don’t let your asshole of an ex-boyfriend stop you from seeing us. You broke up with him, not us,” Seungmin sends you a powerful reminder. “I’ll have a chat with him so that you don’t have to.”

He has a full understanding that if you and Minho were to attempt another civil conversation, it’ll go haywire and lead to more regret that you don’t need to be feeling right now. It just goes to prove that he’s beyond correct to even assume that fact.

The minute you both try to convey how or what it is that you’re both feeling, tensions boil over. For some reason that tension is only resolved by being bent over the nearest surface and fucking it out together.

It’s not healthy.

You go to remind Minho of what he did to you which he hates hearing, not because he denies it but because he does truly feel guilty. His only saving grace to that argument was that you had both technically broken up, meaning there were no ties to one another afterwards. Still, he missed the point of the fact that he hurt you as a result of those actions. It was too fresh to have done that to you.

Even when he recognised that factor, it was hard for him to accept that he actually caused you some form of irreversible emotional harm

However, Seungmin was right in the fact that you broke up with Minho and not your friend which enabled you to leave that dinner feeling a bit better and with a clearer judgement about going forward with a decision to cut all ties with Minho. It wasn’t something to look forward to.

But what was, is the dinner in the upcoming week. It’s the prime opportunity to see everyone again for the first time in over a month.

Despite your collection of text messages and calls from the likes of Chan, Jisung, Changbin and others, it was hard to associate yourselves with them in fear that all they’ll do is unintentionally remind you of Minho. It was the same way he felt when he was clearing out his house - not wanting to be around anyone or anything that would refresh his memory of you.

Now, all you want to do is move on.

Work had a helping hand in that process. Having been so busy with things piling up, your mind was free from Minho during the day. You were able to focus on tasks instead of wallowing and thinking about whether or not to give him a second chance

If it weren’t for Seungmin texting you the details of the upcoming dinner, work-life would’ve swallowed you up whole and made you forget.

From Minnie: 6 pm we’re meeting up, Also, just a heads up, Minho said he’s coming. Take it with a grain of salt though bc he might change his mind.

To Minnie: Thank you :)

You inhale a breath of fresh air. Going to this dinner was necessary whether it was going to be difficult or not. The presence of Minho wasn’t going to stop you from seeing your friends, and with that, you decide to get ready and head straight to the venue.

The restaurant has a separate open area for functions and tables people can book out. The dim golden lighting brings a warm and cosy vibe to the venue, coupled with a beautiful earthy aroma from reed diffusers distributed around the place and the smell of promised good food. It’s a relatively fancy setting, but not to a degree where you would be denied entry if you didn’t meet a dress code.

As you walk further down, you can already see Chan and Jisung chatting up a storm in the corner while they wait for the others. It’s a relief that not many people have made it so far in order to keep as low of a profile as possible and to not draw attention to yourself. However, little by little, they will definitely notice you’re there.

Jisung is the first to spot you, his jaw becomes unhinged as he drags himself out of the booth, speeds over with his face lit up, and throws his arms around you in a bone crushing hug. He nearly squeezes and shifts all of your organs out of place.

“Do you know how much I’ve missed you?” he exclaims loudly in your ear.

Chan laughs in the distance at his best friend's behaviour, “let her breathe Jisung.”

He releases your body for a rush of oxygen to surge back to your brain, “sorry, I just can’t help the fact that I haven’t seen you in a month!”

“You Facetimed me Jisung,” reminding him of that one and only time you accepted him reaching out to you to see if you were okay.

“That’s completely different, anyway sit down,” he offers. “I’ll get you a drink.”

Without wanting to hear any protest from you, Jisung darts off to the bar nearby, ordering a beverage or two. Chan then waves out, ushering you to come and sit before you walk towards the booth.

“If I had gone another week without seeing you, I’d probably start to forget what you look like,” Chan jokes, patting his hand down on the space of cushion beside him for you to sit.

“That wouldn’t be such a bad thing,” you respond.

The second you’re seated, you can already feel Chan’s mind trying to intrude yours. There’s no point in lying to him when he’s akin to one of those Occlumens from Harry Potter, an all knowing person who can hear every one of your thoughts at will. Regardless of the fact that he’s not, it’s his parental nature which exudes that.

“Going okay?” He asks you.

You take a deep breath in and sigh out, “I could be worse.”

“You’re still here though,” he responds wisely. “And so are we.”

Chan never wanted to ask why you never told them or came to them when you first broke up with Minho. They all had to find out through one another then needed to text or ring you to confirm that it was actually real. However, they all knew that you must’ve had your reasons. Naturally, it would’ve been tough to accept let alone leaning on your close friends for support.

“Thank you,” you respond.

“Here we go,” Jisung calls out, carefully returning with two different types of cocktails. “They’re both strong as hell so don’t try to choose.”

“Not that you’d have it any other way right?” you reply, helping him with the glasses as he sits down beside you.

He pats your head as he goes to sit down and slings his arm around your shoulder, “you know me too well. Anyway, Changbin and Hyunjin are here. He just texted me before.”

Chan sulks, “what? No! he was supposed to wait until everyone else was here.”

“To be fair, they were meant to be here twenty minutes ago so Changbin is actually on time,” Jisung responds. “Anyway, how are you missy?”

“Better now that I’m with you guys,” you answer, giving him a bit of a friendly nudge before leaning into him.

Jisung grins, genuinely relieved on the inside to hear that you are. Not that you have been able to notice, but they were all worried for you at one point. The lack of information regarding your whereabouts or even the state of your well-being was concerning. It was almost like you had dropped off the face of the earth at one point, right up until you finally made the decision to start accepting people trying to contact you.

Unfortunately for your friends, they had to learn about what you were up to through Minho, and even today, you’re not sure if what he said to them was the truth. Nonetheless, they all knew at the end of the day, if they were ever unsure or suspicious of what he was feeding to them, they were mature enough to come to you to double check. If they were able to get through to you.

“Good. Now come back and hang out with me because these guys are boring.”

Chan goes to lift a finger and point across at Jisung to object his statement before Changbin rounds the corner with Hyunjin trailing at his side.

The last you saw him was some five years ago, just before he went away to an arts’ school in France to study. Now he returns taller with much more cut and distinct features and a head of light brown hair that’s visibly eclipsed his natural jet-black colour. Despite that, he also seems softer or shy when he gives everyone at the table a half smile.

“Who’d you say was boring?” Changbin prods into the conversation.

Jisung points up with his beverage in hand, “you and Hyunjin!”

Hyunjin’s eyebrows knit together with worry, “is he drunk already?”

A bright smile fashions on Changbin’s face when he notices you, “Y//N! Now it’s two welcome home parties!”

Hyunjin turns to look down at you in surprise, “have you been away as well?”

His question serves as a reminder that he has been relatively out of the loop since he’s been gone – not that you expected him to be fully aware of everything since he probably had better things to do. Hyunjin was still active in the group chat, but none of you prefer to communicate that way when hanging out is the better option. Whilst he’s missed out on a lot of stuff that’s happened, he hasn’t been so oblivious to other things.

“Not exactly,” you respond awkwardly. “But welcome back by the way.”

He smiles softly, “thank you.”

The get-together officially kicked off when Jeongin, Seungmin, and Felix arrived just before the second round of drinks was ordered. Everyone was happy to have Hyunjin back. Even for you, it was nice to see him again after so long – it was nice to see everyone in general. The setting was reminiscent of old times when everyone banded together. Whether it was at karaoke, dinner, a bar, someone’s house, or at some event, it’s always a good feeling when you’re around them.

It leads you to feel slightly upset that you haven’t seen them in so long. You’ve missed hearing their laughs, their jokes, and the safety that you feel too. But for a very painfully obvious reason, none of it seems to be the same without Minho.

“Didn’t show up did he?” Seungmin, who had been chatting up a storm with someone at the bar, walks over and takes a seat opposite you at the cornered booth. Just about all of them were alternating from the table to the bar, and a space they’d found to stand up to talk, or in Jisung’s case, dance by himself.

“Mm,” you mumble. “Which I’m sure is a good thing.”

He shrugs carelessly but with a small grin, “for your benefit. Not that I’m an expert in relationship problems but I can speak from personal experience.”

“That’s true,” you respond, remembering that he has in fact had his heart broken a few times by the same person.

Luckily for him, he’s ceased the chase and gave an account the other day at dinner of how freeing it was to be his own individual. It’s something you can only hope to achieve at this point – to be liberated from that sticky dependency you have on Minho.

It’s not love that you feel for him anymore, you’re sure of it. But it’s similar to a violent craving. His skin, voice – oh his voice. Everything about his body has you itching under the surface to have him by your side even though things end in a fiery argument, which is usually how it goes.

It wasn’t love anymore. It was dependency. A type of separation anxiety that fills you up with this icy cold feeling that won’t go away until you specifically have Minho near you. Still, deep down, you knew you didn’t love him anymore.

“Is Jisung okay?” Hyunjin ticks his head towards his friends’ direction.

Judging by the fact that Chan was holding a barely conscious Jisung up was a clear indicator that he definitely wasn’t okay. Never has he been able to handle his alcohol well and it was evident by the lack of control over his own body.

Seungmin looks over concernedly then looks down at his phone to check the time, “shit, I have to take him home too.”

He abandons you briefly to help out Chan. Both of them collectively agree that Jisung needs to go home or at the very least be removed from the bar to sober up. They take him to an empty table nearby and ask the bartender for some water. Meanwhile, Hyunjin turns a blind eye to the chaos and talks to you instead.

“How have you been Y/N?” He asks.

“Yeah, good. You? How was France?”

By the look on his face, it was as if your question brought back a whole heap of good memories to the forefront of his mind, “I couldn’t have asked for a better experience.”

“That’s good to hear,” you reply. “So have you graduated already?”

“Three months from now I will be,” he answers. “Why? You wanna come watch me walk across the stage over there?”

You consider his offer, “what if I said ‘yes’ to that?”

“Then I’d be over the moon,” Hyunjin emphasises then offers a brilliant suggestion that springs into his mind. “In turn, maybe I can show you around France and all the places I went to.”

“Is that a deal then?”

“Sounds like a solid deal to me,” he responds and whether he was joking or not, either way, it seemed a pleasant idea.

During the last hour of the dinner, you spent having an in-depth conversation with Hyunjin. From what he got up to in France, what he wants to do in the future, then covered what you’ve been doing as well

The topic of your ex-boyfriend was difficult to navigate, but you managed it well by diverting to another subject. The last thing you wanted to talk about was Minho for fear that the more you think about him, the more you’d want him.

Then again, you’re reminded once more of the fact that Hyunjin and Minho aren’t friends. He may not have any interest in him whatsoever. But it’s not like they left each other on horrendous terms. Not like how you and Minho did. Plus, it’s hard to see this fresh shade of Hyunjin in front of you, hating anyone he doesn’t like or doesn’t know.

The Hyunjin from five years ago would’ve held a grudge, but now you can see by his shift in personality, that he’s let it go.

When it came down to having to leave, everyone seemed to have their own plans. Seungmin would have the misfortune of taking care of Jisung. Felix, Jeongin, Hyunjin, and Changbin decided to go bar hopping while they were still stable on their feet and even encouraged you to come with them. It took a lot of convincing to tell them ‘no’ after you were set on heading home to the comfort of your own space.

Seungmin assured Chan that he was fine to handle Jisung, then thought it would be a polite gesture to accompany your side when you decided to walk home, regardless if it was only a minute's commute from the restaurant.

“How are you holding up?” Chan addresses the elephant in the room.

His question could be seen a mile away. It made you wonder if that was the reason he chose to walk you home since his place is in the opposite direction. Although he wasn’t confronting you, that’s exactly what it felt like.

“Somewhat okay, I suppose,” you answer.

“No, how are you really? We see Minho all the time. In fact, he won’t leave us alone. But we haven’t seen you,” he responds. “You can still hang out with us you know?”

“I know that,” you almost whine, especially after offering your ear to Jisung just for him to repeat the same words for over two hours. “I’ve been busy.”

“I guess being busy is a positive.”

“It’s when there’s nothing to do or I don’t feel good and I don’t have anyone around,” you respond and both come to a halt when you reach the entrance to your apartment building. “That’s the hardest.”

“That’s when you call us,” Chan says strictly. “I know you know this too, but all of us would drop whatever it is that we’re doing to come and help you. Not just Minho, even though I had some reservations about seeing him after what he did.”

The last parts of his words surprised you. Chan actually thought about cutting Minho off too when he found out what happened…

“So he did tell you everything.”

“Everything,” he confirms. “Including everything that you’ve both been up to now. Like how you still see each other now and then – and not for the reasons I had hoped. So why do you keep seeing him when you want to move on?”

Your eyes narrow at him, “how do you even know that I want to move on?”

“The fact that you still sleep with him but won’t pursue any sort of communication to get back with him romantically, says a lot Y/N. And I know that because he’s told me,” Chan answers bitterly, but not in a nasty way. “Your body might miss him, but I know your mind doesn’t.”

He’s bitten through the truth which you can’t seem to, his elderly brother-type personality forces you to see reason. You’d be offended if Minho tried to initiate a conversation about wanting to get back together, knowing that he’s not in any position to be making requests after what he did.

“Why are you telling me all of this?” You ask tiredly.

“I want what’s best for you,” he says. “Yes, Minho too in some way, but I told him he needed to figure out what he did on his own because I can’t help him with that. That’s his punishment.”

You supress a laugh, “thank you.”

Your short talk with Chan made you realise how empty your cup had been since you last saw him – since you last saw all of your friends under one roof. It was rewarding and it felt like home to be near them. However, his words weren’t there for you to just defer from. You had to listen to him. He was right in saying that your body misses Minho but your mind doesn’t because the next time he came around, you swore to yourself that it was going to be the last time you saw him.

But it needed a conversation, one that you weren’t even sure if you were ready to have, too scared to rip that band aid off.

As you don your bra back on and shimmy on your underwear that Minho almost tore off, you think of all the possible ways to approach this situation, bearing in mind that it does have the potential to blow up.

“W-We need to talk,” you stammer, wondering if that’s a good way to start. It’s a start, that’s all that matters.

Minho stares at you from the other side of your bed, halfway through putting on his t-shirt, “okay, what about?”

Without any warning, you blurted out what needed to - what must be said, “we should stop seeing each other.”

Heavy silence drapes over the room, except for the cogs working overtime in Minho’s brain, trying to decode your words could almost be heard. You can most definitely see it on his deadpan face. It illuminates the seriousness of the situation compared to what it was five minutes ago.

“Can you give me some more detail about that?” He requests.

“I just don’t think it’s healthy that we continue to sleep with each other when we’re not going to get back together,” you inform him.

“You don’t want to get back together?” Minho poses the long awaited question that hurts to even conjure an answer.

“Be honest, we’d be together right now if you knew that I was serious about it,” you say truthfully. “I’ll never not love you, but I can’t love you in the way that I used to.”

The sheer surprise of the conversation made Minho realise that he’s been consuming too much of a good thing. That he actually wasn’t prepared to talk to you about this. It’s been creeping around the back of his mind since you both started seeing each other casually but ignored it so as to spend as much time with you as he could even though you weren’t with him anymore.

“Right.”

“Look, just…don’t go cold on me, because I do want to talk to you about these things,” you plead with him.

“Such as?”

“Such as our friends,” you start off. “All of us hang out a lot, but I didn’t want our…breakup to stop either one of us from seeing them. They’re your friends and mine too. I’d hate for us to be driven away from them because we can’t coexist anymore.”

“Fair enough.”

You can sense that he’s already starting to shut down. An obvious coping mechanism that’s triggered by something he wasn’t prepared to hear. But while the final shreds of his rationality are still with you in the room, you make haste, and dish out the important points he needs to know.

“We might not ever be friends again even though that’s not what I’m hoping for-“

Minho stands up from the edge of your bed, cutting the rest of your sentence off in the process, “if you’re serious about everything that you just said, then I don’t want to see you text or call me first asking me to come over. This isn’t a one-sided deal that only applies to me, you have to stick to it as well.”

“This isn’t even a deal Minho. I am telling you not to.”

“What? Telling me ‘not to’ because you can’t control yourself around me? Fine. I don’t know if you realise this, but the majority of the texts between the both of us, are mainly sent from you - you asking for me, telling me how lonely you are, or how much you miss my body. So don’t start handing out instructions when you’re not going to adhere to them as well.”

There’s a viper-like sting to his words that keeps piercing your resolve. A truthful sting that seeps poison into your blood, making you feel sick and cold. He’s torn you off your high horse for a moment, bringing you back down to earth to realise that it’s not just him who needs to see reason as well.

He had a very strong argument.

Minho sighs and tails more information to his tangent, “look I will do whatever it is that you want me to do. But, if this is what you want, then you can’t deny that it will only work one way.”

There’s an efflorescence of achiness in your chest. A familiar one that you felt in the early days after breaking up with Minho. It was the same one you would feel whenever you’d have to lock the door to the spare bedroom in his house whenever he bought someone else over.

Heartbreak.

It lingers when he finally leaves with the promise of never reaching out to you again, at least for sex because there was no way of avoiding him in the future. That fact was impossible to refute. But this is what breakups consist of. Not one hairline shy off of being messy. It could, though, be much worse. That’s as much you had to be grateful for when you have to start from square one all over again.

Changing things up was necessary. You had already moved out from Minho’s, which there was no choice behind, but that meant new scenery. Different places to peruse in your own time that you hadn’t yet ever since you had moved out

It opened up new opportunities to visit some local things, especially on your way back home from work as you decide to call into a small cafe.

Soft bossa nova plays calmly in the background as you stand and deliberate on something sweet to take home with you for after dinner. If it weren’t for the many niche options to select from, you would’ve almost missed the voice talking from beside you.

“I heard the matcha bread is nice here.”

Your surprise gets the better of you, almost forgetting how to speak for a split second when you see a familiar tall figure you met once more from the other week.

“Hyunjin?”

“Hey,” he smiles. “Wanna sit down together?”

You end up ordering yourself a warm drink and a sweet pastry to go while Hyunjin found a small table right in the crook of the cafe. His sudden appearance was rather pleasant, allowing you to divert from your own thoughts for a bit. Plus, it’s always nice to sit and chat with a friend.

“I thought you might’ve been here to meet up with one of the others,” you say to him.

Hyunjin nods, putting his coffee down, “I just spent the last couple of hours helping Changbin buy clothes just down the road at one of the shopping centres, so that’s where I came from.”

You smile, “well he trusts you more than the others in that department.”

“As he should,” Hyunjin grins softly. “How are you?”

“I’m well, I just finished work and was heading home,” you respond.

“I’m not keeping you from going am I?” He asks politely.

“No, not at all,” You quickly exclaim. “The longer I stay, the more of an excuse I have not to do the mountain of things I need to for work.”

Hyunjin chuckles, “well, as long as it doesn’t get you into trouble with your colleagues.”

“I should be fine,” you hope.

“You know, when I think about it, you and I never really spoke that much back then,” he points out. “I only just realised that from last week when I saw you again.”

His comment makes you think back too

Hyunjin was definitely part of your friend group, but not one who you would hang out with individually or with another person. He was just there, almost like he was known to you by association. Aside from the fact that he’s well-mannered and kind, the only aspect of his personality that seemed to have changed is how boisterous he used to be.

Although, that’s to be expected when people mature and cross the bridge from adolescence to adulthood.

“True enough,” you reply and start snickering when you remember something funny. “But I have good memories of you though. Like when you threw that bottle at Jisung.”

Hyunjin’s eyes nearly pop out of his head, “I remember that. I could’ve killed him with that too.”

“Or when Chan had to pull you up from the train tracks because you fell off the platform and got stuck,” you add on.

“Most of those memories seem to have some type of mortal peril attached to it,” Hyunjin discovers.

“You were young,” you remind him tenderly. “They make for the best memories anyway.”

He agrees, staring into a space on the table as he reminisces, “true. So much has changed since I got back. I feel like I’ve missed out on growing up with you all even though we were just teenagers back then and adults now.”

“Maybe, but we’re still young though and some have more growing up to do than others,” you hint very cryptically at one person who automatically springs to mind. “So don’t feel sad that you’ve missed out when there’s still a lot for us out there.”

Hyunjin sits a bit more comfortably knowing that. As you both continue to talk, he realises how much you’ve changed yet somehow remained the same. You grew into your features, enhancing what was already there to a finer degree. Your looks were Hyunjin’s first impression of you when you first met as devious young teenagers.

That was before he discovered that you are as kind and cool as you come across. But you were just distant friends back then. Now, Hyunjin detected a space for that to potentially change. He wanted to get to know the friend he hung out with here and there.

Even though time threatened to cut the starting opportunity short, it was still a start nonetheless, and Hyunjin was confident that there would be other times to arrive as well. So as the baristas begin cleaning up behind the counter and around the cafe, both you and Hyunjin took it as a sign that it was probably time to head off. You both take your belongings, thank the staff on your way out and head into the night.

“Y/N,” Hyunjin says to you. “We should get coffee again sometime.”

You nod, “I’d love that. I still have your number.”

“So do I,” he replies. “What way are you heading?”

“I’m just literally around the corner, not even a minute away,” you answer.

“Okay, I’ll look forward to your text then,” he says.

I strictly forbid and do not permit ANYONE or any user on any platform to copy, re-upload, translate, remake, or pass off any of my work here on Tumblr or to any other online platform whatsoever. Doing so will result in having your account suspended, deleted, taken down, and or permanently banned.

#rosiewritesskz #stray kids smut #skz smut #lee know smut #stray kids fic #stray kids fanfic #lee know x reader #lee know fanfic #lee know fic

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yumeka-sxf · 10 months

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Spy x Family Exhibition Pamphlet

I got my copy of the Spy x Family exhibition pamphlet! I wanted to make HD scans of some of the notable pages and try to translate if I can.

First off is this great "Main Character Correlation Chart" (sorry for my amateur editing, all I have is MS Paint!)

I love how Bond has a different "bofu" (woof) for Loid and Yor!

Several of the pages show the creation process of the manga, starting with rough sketches to final drafts, using chapter 1 as an example. There were a lot of pages for this, so I just scanned the ones that showed the end of the chapter.

Probably the most interesting pages of the pamphlet are the early character designs/concept sketches. Most of these have already been shared by @sy-on-boy on her post here, but I thought it'd be cool to have them in HD! Unfortunately, even with higher quality images it's very difficult to decipher Endo's handwriting. I could make out just a few words here and there, and Google Lens is very unreliable when the writing isn't clear.

The first page has early concepts for the Forger family, Loid, Anya, the WISE logo, and the Eden uniform.

Things to note are that "Oscar" was a working name for Loid, as was "Yolanda" for Yor. What's also interesting is that a beta version of Franky is shown along with the Forgers. Unfortunately I can't make out the notes about him, but I think this has significance because of a sketch on the next page...

Most of the next page shows concept designs for Yor, with a section for Bond and Yor's coworkers on the bottom.

However, what's really intriguing is the sketch in the upper right of the whole family, titled 疑似家族 (pseudo family).

Once again, a Franky-looking character is with them, and he has the title "Uncle" (叔父) Was an uncle originally going to be part of the main Forgers? Was he actually related to Loid or Yor, or if that character did eventually become Franky, maybe he would just pretend to be Loid's brother? I can also make out the word "otaku" (オタク) in the notes for this character as well as "enjoying life" (人生を楽しんでる) Also in the notes for beta Yor it looks like 最強 (the best/strongest) and バカ (idiot/dummy) All I can make out for Loid's notes are 孤独 (loneliness) I think? And what's up with the older and more sinister looking Anya? She really looks like Ashe there. But these are all just early concept designs/notes so I wouldn't take them too seriously.

The next page titled "East and West During the Cold War" has concept designs for Franky, Yuri, Fiona (referred to as a female WISE spy), a male WISE spy, Melinda, and various assassins from the cruise arc.

The first interesting thing to point out is the notes next to the very crudely drawn woman at the bottom of Yuri's concept designs. It says "Yuri's girlfriend?"(ユーリの彼女?) though I can't make out clearly what the rest of it says. For the Franky designs, I could make out "tsukkomi or boke". So it looks like at some point Endo was deciding whether to make him more of a tsukkomi (straight man) or boke (wise guy) personality. There's also mention of giving him a high IQ (IQ高い). Also, the fact that the sketches include Melinda and the cruise arc assassins gives the impression that Endo had ideas for these story elements very early on.

But the character relationship chart in the lower left is really intriguing.

I'm not sure how accurate these translations are so take them with a grain of salt, but they do make sense to me. But I have to wonder why Anya and Becky are connected to Desmond. For Becky, it could be because her family has ties to the Desmonds, but why Anya? Could the "mysterious institute/lab" she comes from have ties to Desmond too? Again, these could just be early concepts from ideas that Endo is no longer using, so best not to take them literally. Also, the lack of Shopkeeper/Garden in the character relationship charts, the concept art, and the exhibition overall, really does portray them as a "mysterious organization" that Endo perhaps didn't plan out until later in the series' development and is still trying to figure out. But as far as this sketch, I have to say that despite how terribly crudely drawn all their little heads are, it's easy to identify every character...proof of Endo's top notch character design skills!

Another sketch that stands out is on the same page...

It's a very rough drawing of what appears to be either Loid holding Yor or Yor holding Loid with Anya next to them. But honestly it's such a rough drawing it could be any other parents+child. All I can make out of the text directly above is "My wife is stressed!? At this rate..." And the drawing next to it also appears to be two parents and maybe two children? I also have no clue what the "WJ4C 9/20, etc" at the top means. Very mysterious sketch, lol.

The next page has Eden related concepts, including Becky, Damian, George, and various teachers. The drawings in the bottom section appear to be an alternate/abbreviated version of how the Forgers met.

Pretty funny that an image of Franky is covering what's supposed to be a sketch of Demetrius. The text from Franky says "I can't show you this information yet" which is pretty solid proof that Demetrius will make an appearance in the series eventually. There's also nicknames for Damian and Demetrius in the notes - "Dami" and "Demi."

Some notes on the Eden page says there's 2,000 students in the school, with 13 grades divided into 8 classes/houses. The chart on the left is a list of teacher names and their classes, all of which are given names of colors. None of the teacher names have been used so far in the series.

And all that's on the last page of sketches is a continuation of the previous page with the early concept of how the Forgers started (it honestly looks pretty cute, wish it wasn't just rough sketches). And the following section looks like drafts Endo did for promotional material.

The final pages of the pamphlet are the new extra mission chapter which I already fully translated here.

And that's all I'm going to share for now from the pamphlet! I could spend more time trying to decipher the concept art notes but it was giving me a headache after a while, lol. But if anyone wants to try translating them, go ahead (I have higher quality png files of all the scans if needed...they were too big for Tumblr). And again, these sketches are just trial and error pre-serialization ideas that don't necessarily reflect Endo's final vision for the series, so I wouldn't dwell on them much other than for fun theorizing.

The pamphlet does have other interesting information, including an interview with Endo, a timeline of his work on Spy x Family and other manga, and his notes about random things from the series. So I might return to translating the pamphlet at a later date when I have time/motivation.

#spy x family #spy family #sxf #spyxfamily #loid forger #yor forger #anya forger #bond forger #sxf spoilers #sxf manga #sxf manga spoilers #sxf scans #yuri briar #damian desmond #becky blackbell #fiona frost #franky franklin

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theboombutton · 3 months

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Bad Fictional Data vs Fictional Bad Data

WARNING: This post will include discussion of a name that might be Alice Dyer's deadname. I won't be calling Alice by this name or using it in the context of that name being a pointer to Alice, but I will be using the name, uncensored, when talking about where and why the name appeared in chdb.xls .

----

You may know that as part of the ARG, the sleuths on Statement Remains uncovered a document called chdb.xls, allegedly a list that has something to do with The Magnus Institute. There's a list of names, ID numbers, first and last names, dates of birth, and information apparently related to each person's "score" in an assortment of psychological/personality tests. Three of the names in particular have stood out in a lot of analyses: Samama Khalid, Gerard Kaey [sic], and Connor Dyer.

You likely don't know that the commonly linked version of the spreadsheet, ported to Google Docs and linked in the TMAGP ARG Masterdoc, is presented out of order. (I'm guessing they didn't lock down editing until it was already all out of order from various people messing with it - totally understandable, this is not a callout post, thank you for making this easily accessible to people.)

But let me tell you about something I discovered by looking at the spreadsheet in its original order, and the almost certainly incorrect rabbit hole of theorizing it has sent me down.

Bad Fictional Data

Until episode 2 I had the same thought about the Dyer listed in the spreadsheet that I think most people did: that it was Alice's deadname, and that she had therefore been one of the Institute's young subjects. But after Alice had absolutely no reaction when Sam mentioned the Magnus Institute to her in episode 2, I now think this is significantly less likely.

Don't get me wrong: it's still reasonable to think that the Dyer listed in chdb.xls is Alice. Maybe she had some kind of supernatural experience that wiped her memory. (It probably wasn't that Alice was too young to remember, as the Dyer on the spreadsheet is listed as being at Piaget Stage 3, which occurs from 7-11 years old; but it's always possible that the Magnus Institute was using the names of legitimate psychological tests to hide their tracks when recording more esoteric data.) The point is, this isn't hard evidence that Alice has no connection to the Magnus Institute; it just made me go looking for more evidence.

I went back to the spreadsheet to look for more clues about whether or not this was Alice's deadname. What I found instead was some extremely sloppy fake data at the bottom of the spreadsheet.

For context, here are first ten names in the spreadsheet:

Note how each ID begins with the name's first and last initial.

Now check out the last ten names:

Not only do these IDs no longer always match their subjects' names, they occur in order: CD, EF, GH, IJ, KL, MN, OP, QR, ST, UV. The first names of each pair match the first letter of each ID, but many, though not all, of the surnames don't match the second letter.

My first thought was that whoever Rusty Quill had contracted to generate these names had gotten sloppy at the end of the list, created the IDs all at once using this alphabetical pattern, and picked names to fill in that roughly matched the IDs. But hey, we could use this to our advantage! Any name that was filled in as part of a series of IDs with an alphabetical pattern like this could be removed from consideration for red string analysis - we'd know they were meaningless fakes added by a lazy contractor, and not clues or characters that might show up again later.

Scrolling back up the spreadsheet, we can see the person generating the data having more care the earlier we go. We find the beginning of the AA/BC/DE/FG/HI pattern at line 136, but at first, the names mostly conform to the initials they've been given. JK09874 "Josie Jordan" at line 154 is the first break from the "first two letters of the ID are their initials" pattern; and breaks occur more often the further you go down the sheet.

Scrolling up to before line 136 (AA09911 - Aaron Atkinson), while the pattern isn't yet at AB/CD/EF/GH levels of obviousness, the first initials are still in alphabetical order. Zoe Hart follows Yara Logan follows Xavier Freeman follows Wyatt Edwards. The data creator skips a few letters - for example Niamh Fenton is followed by Phoebe Emmett, and S and T are together in the same line in Skye Travers.

We can follow this less-obvious version of the alphabetical pattern up to an abrupt break right at line 118, above which the IDs don't follow an alphabetical pattern at all. (They might follow a different pattern, but it's not one that I've found yet.) So that means we can discount all the names in line 118 and below as purely fake, generated lazily by a contractor, and not worthy of our attention for the purposes of red-stringing. Right?

What the fuck?!

(highlight is my own, it is not present in the original document)

My first thought was that the sloppy data generator had done the funniest thing imaginable, sending everyone on a wild goose chase about Alice's deadname just by having the name "Dyer" on the brain while looking for a surname that started with D. This would be Very Funny. No plot relevance, no implications, just the brain fart that launched a thousand theories.

My second thought was that maybe Connor Dyer was the last legit name on the list, and whoever started filling the rest of the sheet in with alphabetical junk data was inspired by the "CD" initials in the first place - whoever it was went on from there.

These are both valid thoughts! But I prefer my third thought:

What if it's on purpose?

Fictional Bad Data

There is a very obvious break between the set of data that doesn't look obviously* fake, and the set of data that is immediately identifiable as such. If we assume that this was intentional - and I want to reiterate that it all being unintentional is still a very real possibility here - why would someone at Rusty Quill want the data to be structured like this?

If the sharp dividing line between reasonable-seeming data and obviously fake data is intentional on RQ's part, it would suggest that we should take the data above row 118 as in-universe real data, and the data below row 118 as in-universe falsified data. It suggests that someone, either at the Institute or after its demise, was adding nonexistent children to the roster of The Magnus Institute. Why would someone want to do that?

There are all kinds of possible reasons, but here are a few off the top of my and my theorizing buddies' heads:

Financial fraud (institutional edition). If the Magnus Institute received funding on a per-child basis, they'd have an incentive to inflate their numbers.

Financial fraud (researcher edition). One or more people on staff were blowing off their child-analysis sessions and recording fake numbers for fake children. This would be ballsy as hell if they could be fired for it, but it was the Magnus Institute, so there's decent odds they couldn't be.

Scientific fraud (faking conclusions edition). The Magnus Institute in the Protocolverse claimed to be doing research on giftedness in children, which is the kind of thing that you'd normally publish in a scientific journal. It's not unheard-of for dickhead academics to falsify data to generate statistically significant results, since statistically insignificant results aren't going to get you published.

Scientific fraud (obscuring paranormal bullshit edition). If the Magnus Institute was using legitimate psychological test names to record Fear-related test results, it's possible their results showed different patterns from what you would expect from the real tests. They could have added the fake children to balance out the dataset as a whole.

Pseudonyms. The children are all real, the Institute just started using fake names for them for privacy purposes. They couldn't go back and change the names they'd already written properly for some reason. Probably something paranormal.

Those are all pretty interesting possibilities, and if we could narrow them down, it might tell us something about what things were like at the Magnus Institute before it burned down!

And the other big question is: why did RQ make the dividing line between the two sections, the first likely-fake entry, Connor Dyer?

One straightforward reason could be as a troll, a red herring to watch fans get in a lather over. And once the community inevitably noticed all the obviously falsified entries, RQ could eat popcorn and watch us lose our minds over whether or not that's even a real entry! (That sounds really fun, I would absolutely do that.)

But let's dig a little deeper, and look at what Connor Dyer being on the border between the real and fake entries would mean in-universe. Because of its position as the border between real and fake, it would be very easy for that entry to be accidentally included in the wrong group - a real research subject discarded as fake, or perhaps more interestingly, a fake research subject accidentally reclassified as real.

Remember, if a name is fake in the context of the Magnus Institute's research, that doesn't mean that the name itself is made up. If I was trying to think of a name that fit the initials CD, and those were the initials of my next door neighbor's kid, I might just write their name in as a lark. Especially if it was my first time trying to get away with falsifying information: this is a kid that verifiably exists and lives in the area.

My theory, supported primarily by my love for The Implications instead of actual evidence

Twenty years on, after all institutional memory of the fraud was long gone, trans icon Alice Dyer applies to work for the OIAR - an institution that (according to this theory) has an unofficial preference for hiring former Magnus Institute kids.

They are very confused when Alice proceeds to act nothing like a former Magnus Institute kid. It doesn't occur to anyone that her entry might have been falsified. What reason would anyone have to do that?

----

* Of course people with a background in data analysis or statistics will see immediately that even above line 118 this is a wild-ass dataset that would raise red flags for falsification, but at least it's not "the alphabet over and over" levels of obvious.

#tmagp theory #alice dyer #tmagp arg #chdb.xls #tmagp speculation #tmagp #the magnus protocol #cw deadnaming

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thatone-brightstar · 1 year

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Paint stained kisses -Carmy Berzatto x Fem!Reader-

a/n: Everyone say thank you to the sweet @beebslebobs for the idea on this oneshot that was originally just an insta post from my TB & TF universe!

Here's a little sweetness to alleviate the chest pains that chapter 10 may have caused on some of you. It's part of the same story, but it can totally be read separately if you'd like

BUT if you haven't read it and you wanna… here’s the link to that:

The Bear & The Fox -Carmy Berzatto x Fem! Reader-

Word count: 3.4k

Summary: Your and Carmy's day off.

WARNINGS: Smut ahead, oral sex (female receiving), p in v, dirty talk if you squint, reader is on birth control but isn't mentioned (wrap it up IRL tho), minors DNI but you'll do what you want so don't say I didn't warn you.

“That was the worst french toast I’ve had, like, ever…” You groan, kicking your soaked sneakers to the side as soon as Carmy throws the door open.

“My eggs Benedict were pretty good.” He answers from behind.

You roll your eyes with your back to him and scoff. “Obviously, sis wouldn’t dare serve you something awful.” You turn to your boyfriend, a mocking smile curled on your lips. “‘Anything else I can get you, chef? I can also offer you something that isn’t on the menu…’ wink, wink.”

The exaggerated kissing noises you make towards him pull a chuckle from his chest as he combs his fingers through the wet strands of hair. You roll your eyes again and pad to his speaker, soon filling the room with the soft notes of an instrumental song. The warmth of his hands brush over the sides of your waist and rest delicately over your navel as his chest presses to your back, causing the moisture of his sweater to transfer onto yours.

“So, what I understand is you’re jealous someone was hitting on me?” Carmen whispers between soft kisses on the valley of your shoulder.

“No, I’m jealous your food was better than mine-” You answer, swatting his hands away and earning another soft laugh that fills your ears with joy as you walk into his room.

You’ve grown used to the lovely sound, more common the longer you spent by his side, as if the walls he held up were slowly chipping away with your constant presence. You softly hum to the music from his stereo while you rummage through the drawer that holds a few shirts you’ve hauled to his place in the past couple weeks.

He had emptied it out after finding your things bunched up and wrinkled inside your backpack by the sofa. You found it completely adorable when, in search of a shirt of his to sleep in, instead you found your own clothes - neatly folded in perfect squares- occupying the first drawer in his closet. He didn’t mention it and neither did you. Knowing Carmy and his silent acts of love, mentioning it would only shy him back into his shell and the progress you had made over the months of going out was something you weren’t willing to lose.

You pull out a blue washed out ‘The Original Beef of Chicagoland’ shirt that still smells like his body wash and pull it over your chest, then a pair of shorts and some socks to pad around his cold floor while taking out your supplies from the waisted tote bag inside your backpack. You only have a month or two until the showing and even though it might seem like enough time, to you it wasn’t. Every time you tried to concentrate on an idea for your set, your mind would go blank, thoughtless and frustratingly empty. You could blame it on the prospect of a deadline, maybe painter’s block, but you knew it was more than that.

You’ve used painting as an outlet all your life. Most of your favorite works came from a place of hurt, anger and most times sadness. But now they had all been shoved into a corner and replaced by a sense of calm and overall happiness and while you’re glad most of the dark thoughts have left, now it was harder to conjure up any idea that seemed good enough to be presented in front of hundreds of people.

You rub your face in frustration and pull your hair out of your eyes into a bun, then drop criss-crossed by the window of Carmy’s room, acrylics, brushes and sketchbooks flooding the floor. The gentle lull of the chords mix with the shuffling from the kitchen and a smile forms on your face as the source of your lack of inspiration walks into the room, shirtless and cradling a bowl of diced fruit in his hand.

“Here.” Carmy mumbles softly, passing the bowl to you and leaning down to place a gentle kiss over your hair.

You take it, mumbling a quiet ‘Thanks’ through your smile and pop a piece of the tangy peach in your mouth before setting it on his nightstand.

“How’s the brainstorming coming along?” He takes a seat in front of you, back leaning against his bed and lighting a cigarette.

Without answering, you stretch your arm to him, sketchbook in hand and stare mesmerized as he flips through the pages, lit tube dangling from rosy lips. You keep taking bites off the savory fruit to avoid biting your lip instead because the view in front of you is just that fucking good. Baby blues flicker towards you without bothering to lift his head and the way your legs twitch trying to close has a smirk forming over the cig.

“What?” You say defensively.

“Nothin’.” He accentuates with a raise of his brows. “What’s wrong with these?” He asks, giving you the book back turned to a page harboring a few sketches of the sea, shore and shells.

“They’re not good enough…” You admit, tracing your finger over the print his thumb left when it smudged the charcoal. “They don’t make me feel anything- art’s supposed to make you feel something. How can I call myself an artist if it doesn’t stir anything in me!?”

“Hey-” He puts out the smoke on the ashtray over his night stand and scoots to you, making a space for you between his arms. The heat of his naked chest and compression of his arms do wonders to dull out the rising pounding inside. “You’re overthinking it. Maybe take some time off… what do you do when you’re frustrated?”

“...paint.”

Carmy gives you a small snort, genuine and lighthearted, that blows a few wild strands of hair and has you looking up to his glowing face with a tiny grin. You suck the corner of your lip in concentration, the angle in which he has you cradled can only be described as holy. Strong jaw and nose angle perfectly into your line of vision and you have to refrain yourself from kissing the soft tip of it multiple times.

“How ‘bout you make one of those abstract paintings? Let the brush guide you- or whatever-”

“I could paint you…” The words escape your lips the second they materialize in your head.

He pulls his head back slightly, brows drawn up in confusion. “What, like one of your french girls?”

“No!” You manage to answer through a fit of giggles that you’d be ashamed to let out if you hadn’t gotten so comfortable with him already. “Paint on you, as in over you.”

You strain your neck up to catch his lips in yours, the stubble that covers his chin scratching over your tender skin. He smiles into the kiss, very well feeling your intentions of trying to distract him with what you know he likes the most: you.

“It’ll help…” Sultry breath fans his lips and clouds his thoughts with the taste of peaches, fresh and sweet. “Yeah?”

Carmy can only nod, still hooked on the taste of your lips and the stretch of your smile when you get your way. He groans when you pull away, goosebumps rising over the exposed flesh of his chest as you move to take his pillow and sheet from the bed and place it over the ground, beside his legs. He sighs, but obliges anyway, unhooking his stiff thighs and laying belly flat over the hard ground.

“Can’t we do this on the bed?” He speaks over the soft material of the silk pillow sheets you had bought solely for him.

“I don’t wanna get paint on the bed.” You shrug. “Don’t move, it’s gonna tickle a bit…”

The first stroke of the brush gives him chills as the cold paint glides over uncharted territory. He finds it strange, but not uncomfortable and once he gets used to it, it even feels calming. Your soft hums to the tune of the music, the rain pattering outside and the rhythmic strokes have him slowly lulling away into an almost relaxed state, at least what he considered relaxation.

You smile gently down at his long and slow breaths, tracing with your brush over the small beauty marks that map his pearly skin like constellations on an explorer’s map. While one hand holds the brush, you use the pads of your fingers to press down gently over the strained muscles that don’t seem all that relaxed, pulling a groan or two every so often and enjoying all the little sounds he makes.

You spend the time just admiring him. The way his shoulder blades flex when he wraps his arms under the pillow, to the two very pretty dimples that peek just above the waistband of his sweatpants.

“You’re not doin’ much painting…” He mumbles, voice thick and groggy from sleep, while your nails rake rhythmically along his ribs.

“I got distracted…” You bite your lip and pull your phone from under the brushes to snap a picture of your wonderful view, then you lean down and place a sultry kiss where his shoulder blades meet.

“Fox…” He warns through your kisses, the pet name sounding at home between rosy soft lips.

“Bear…” You tease back with a smile, you knowing how much he liked you calling him that.

In a second, you sink down your teeth over the plush skin and he visibly shudders under you. You barely hear him mumble something to himself, before he’s turning to his side and using one strong arm to pull you down to him. Your vision spins and a squeal comes out, only to be shoved back into your throat with the force of his kiss. You’re caged between his arms, torso pressing you to the ground and mouth roaming wet and mercilessly over your own.

The few seconds of air you fill your lungs with when he separates to pull the thin shirt over your head can only do so much to alleviate the burning in your core caused by his strong stare. You raise to your forearms and his lips latch immediately to your exposed collarbone, starving and pleased with every whimper he pulls from you.

“You wanna play chef, let’s play-“ He teases and without wasting time, pushes himself off you into a seating position, thighs spread out just enough for you to sit over them after pulling you to him again.

His enthusiasm is evident in the growing bulge that begins to rub on the inside of your thighs and with the help of your toes on the floor, you rock your hips forward enough to feel his fingers twitch over your waist, digging deeper into the flesh. A soft and shaky moan caresses your lips, motivating your movements as your fingers scrape up his neck and get lost in the messy strands.

His smile stretches over your joined lips. “Anything for you… chef.”

You can feel his Adam’s apple bob with a chuckle as you kiss down his neck, sucking and nibbling hard just under a thin tan line where you assumed his shirt would cover it up, hopefully. His hips jerk upwards with strength, ripping a gasp from your chest, then another squeal when he wraps a secure arm around your waist and hoists you up and off the floor. Your knees squeeze over his hips and your arms wrap around his shoulders in surprise only for a moment, before feeling the soft sheets and the mattress underneath.

Carmy’s lips brush down the exposed skin of your chest, his wet tongue lapping over the hardened nipple of each breast has your knees separating and making room to fit his hips perfectly. He lets go of your tender skin too soon, peppering saliva stained kisses down the middle of your abdomen. As his knees fall to the ground, dexterous fingers pull at the hem of your shorts in a torturously slow fashion, making you lift your upper body on your elbows and direct an impatient glare. Your hair has fallen off its bun somewhere between the floor and the bed, glowing like a dark halo with the few rays of sunshine filtering through the open window and it’s gripping at Carmy’s chest.

“Baby, please…” You moan eager and annoyed, trying to shimmy your hips to quicken the process.

The cold air hits the bare flesh of your cunt and ignites goosebumps that Carmy kisses away as he finishes sliding the fabric over your feet.

“Fuck, so wet already. Just for me, huh?” He mumbles to himself, breath blowing over the exposed skin and causing a jolt of need to travel deep inside.

You swallow down the thick pool of saliva that drowns your mouth at the sight of his beautiful face between your legs. “Bear, please I need you to-” The phrase is cut short by your gasp.

Long digits rub tauntingly over your slit, coating in the arousal caused only by him. He’s too eager to continue teasing you, too entranced with the way your pussy glistens with the bare idea of him that all he can do is look up at you through his brows and lap at the wetness with a firm tongue. With just the first taste of you, he’s hooked, like a starving man afraid they’ll take away his only source of life.

Your groan throws your head back with force and makes your eyes lose focus. Strong hands grip at your hips, rooting you to the mattress while your feet fall over his shoulders. Your hands try to find anything to hold on to- hair, sheets, pillow and even your own thighs- but the constant assault of his skillful mouth makes your fingers lose their grip on anything in your reach.

“Fuck baby-you’re doing so, so good-” Your praise makes his cock twitch inside his pants and he uses one of his hands to frantically pull the waistband down, stroking himself with a similar speed to his mouth.

Whimpers cascade from your lips and pool over your chest with every slurp and lick that echoes in the small room. You force your blurry eyes to focus down, only to be met by piercing black and a thin ring of deep blue staring up at you. His hand spreads over the sweet spot where your thigh meets your hip bone, digits concave the flesh in a way that reminds you of the ancient marble sculptures. There’s a predatory air about the way his jaw tenses in concentration while eating you out, hard muscle digging deep into you and curving your back off the sheets.

Your nails dig into his scalp with every stroke of his tongue and the scorching sensation crawling over your thighs only grows with the bump of his nose over your swollen clit. A hard yelp scratches its way out through your exhausted lungs, motivating him to speed up his movements and add a finger into your dripping cunt. His groans and moans vibrate into your overstimulated area, causing the orgasm to hit you out of nowhere.

A chorus of ‘fuck’s that vary in volume ring inside Carmy’s ears -along with the pulsing walls compressing his finger and tongue- but he refuses to budge. Instead he continues to rub your clit with the bridge of his nose until your breaths have settled long enough for moans to turn into words and not the unintelligible mumbling that makes his chest swell with pride. He pulls his own hand from around his cock afraid he’ll burst before his favorite part, distracting himself by placing gentle kisses over your spasming thighs and rubbing along the lengths of them as he crawls over you.

There’s a blissful smile over your face that only grows with the sweet pecks of his lips making their way up your skin. You open your eyes when the mattress dips under his weight beside you and you prop your head up on your elbow, mimicking his stance. Your eyes are glossy with post-orgasm bliss as your hand lifts to his face and your middle finger traces over the prominent line of the nose you love so much. His skin is smooth with your slick and you can’t help but pull your finger back and pop the tip into your mouth, never losing his stare.

His neck loses grip of his head, messy curls falling in frustration because, how is it that the smallest thing you do can rile him up so fucking quickly? A death between your legs, he thought, would be the happiest demise.

With the thought present in mind, he circles your waist tightly and drags your body over his into a seating position. You throw your leg over his parted ones in sweet anticipation, knees hovering over the sheets while your arms fall on his shoulders and you pull him up to your mouth. The taste of peaches and tobacco mixing with your arousal have you panting and grinding your folds over the firm head of his cock.

“You want me to fuck you?” He whispers in between kisses, using all his strength to not slam into you already. He just loved to hear you say it, have your pretty lips pout around the word that had been used to taunt him for so long, needy for you to give it another meaning. "I gotta hear it, baby, c'mon-"

“Fuck yes, chef- please fuck me-” Your thighs quiver with want, mouth completely disconnected from your brain as the words tumble down. “Please, chef? Pretty, pretty please?”

His eyes grow soft and his dick hard at the way you whine your words, hips rocking along his length leaving him delirious and pussy-drunk before he’s even inside you. Carmy plants a firm hand at the base of your spine, using it to guide you down his stiff cock until the last bit of air is pushed out your lungs.

“Fuck-” You groan, throwing your head back then letting it fall over his shoulder as he lifts you up and lets you drop over and over again.

Your hands dig at his back, clawing over undried paint you’ve forgotten is there and smearing careless streaks of blue and pink over his chest. The beautiful sound of smacking skin and his breathy moans growing louder around you go straight to your core, igniting the tingling sensation that runs up and down your thighs once again.

His eyes can’t seem to look away from your face, too bewitched by the way your lips hang parted and the fine layer of sweat covering your skin. While his hand rounds your body and runs circles over your nub, his teeth latch onto the breasts bouncing in his line of vision, pretty bruises flourish and decorate the skin with his own personal mark.

“Bear- baby- fuck-” Fragments of a sentence is all you’re able to utter, pushed out and punctuated by the snap of his hips increasing in speed.

You feel every one of his thrusts too deeply inside you from that angle, along with the constant nibbling over your tender breast and you think you might just go mad from the overstimulation. You roll your hips along with his when the tension in your navel begins to grow. One hand circles his neck and buries inside sweaty locks while the other tries to grip onto the wall for any sense of stability. Your legs tremble, the tension builds and without warning, your grip on his cock pulls the air from his lungs as he feels you spasm around him and come with a gutural gasp.

Carmy digs into the skin of your hips lifting you up for a few more thrusts before the tightness of your walls grows too much. His neck flushes red with the force of his release, the groan vibrating next to your ear makes the thin hairs on your body rise with chills.

The drained energy finally catches up to you both and Carmy lets gravity pull him down to the comfort of the soft bed, holding you tight in his arms and pulling you down with him. You’re too blissed out to warn him about the paint still fresh, now pressing over the white sheets disparaging the bed.

It’s only when he turns to carefully place you beside him- arms secure around you- that you open your eyes and notice the array of smeared paint covering both your chests and around his neck. The laughs rippling from your chest are too contagious for Carmy to stay quiet, joining on once he gets a view of himself and the lilac prints around your face that match with the size of his thumbs.

“See?” He whispers once you’ve both run out of laughter, sapphire eyes dancing around your glowing face and hand traveling up to caress your cheek. “I was right about the abstract painting…”

"Yeah..." You grin back. "And so much for not wanting to get paint on the bed..."

**********

Taglist: @pearlstiare @teteminne, @beebslebobs, @harrysmatcha, @yum-yahgurt, @pussy-f41ry and that’s it lmao

447 notes · View notes

azaliyas · 1 year

Text

summary : after studying the guitar since you were a kid, you were now ready to start a band and let your music be known to the big public. thanks to an online announcement you posted, you found him as your bandmate.

word count : [ to be added later ]

genre : modern au, fluff.

cw / tw : mentions of drinking.

characters : 6reeze boys.

note : had to change the order because of the way i keep my posts in order, sorry for the inconvenience ^^;

aether — the keyboardist

if you had to describe aether in one word, it would have been "puppy", always so cheerful and easy-going. it was easy to befriend him after you guys met for the first time for a trial rehearsal and see if you two could work well together. his friendly and kind personality had you, too, smile brightly at him. and that pulled his heartstrings in a way he had never experienced before.

his slender fingers, you were sure of that, were blessed with a talent and a discipline you have seen in such a few people it was more unique than rare. the keyboard really came to life whenever he played, each note an arrow going straight to your fans' hearts. he had this natural charm that draw people to him to watch closer, and staying to have more.

aether was kind with everyone, but with you, he was such a gentleman, always ready to come to your aid even outside your music business. he was your dearest friend, the person you held in high regard, and the same was for him. he couldn't help the fondness in his voice when talking about you, be it with his friends or fans he met in the streets, a special kindness enveloped your name every time it left his lips.

of course, fans were quick to catch up on it and start spreading the "y/n x aether" agenda, heart-shaped eyes looking at every little interaction between you and the blonde guy, be it off stage or, more often, on stage, when his golden eyes were glued on your form, following you around, his voice soft and tender while singing his parts.

ah, but it was such a shame you didn't notice any of this. how wonderful would it have been, dating you, call you his significant other, his lover, the one he oh so tenderly loved and cherished... but that had to wait. he had to make you aware of his feelings in a less direct way first in order to see if you too felt the same way as him. but until then, he was happy even with just holding you close to his chest after another night of successful concerts, sleeping soundly on his lap.

just wait a little longer for him, will you?

heizou — the dj

you weren't exactly a fan of electronic music or whatever kind they played in nightclubs and similar places, but after meeting heizou, you had a change of heart.

the maroon-haired guy was like a tornado, strong and passionate and unstoppable when his mind was set on something. and that something was forming a duo with you and have your music climbing the charts. he surely was ambitious, but you didn't mind, he got the spirits and that was what was important to you.

with heizou's influence your music grew artistically and in terms of listeners on the major streaming platforms, thanks to his fame as an already well-known dj and a few semi-important collabs he had. from covers to mix-ups to original music, your virtual library grew exponentially. you two featured in many playlists, sometimes even those ai-generated, or the most mainstream ones along with much more famous artists. and you were the center of it.

heizou did whatever was in his power to have you in the spotlight, always talking so fondly of you fans couldn't help it but start shipping you two. and how could they not, when every single damn occasion was as good for him to mention your name.

but you were pretty dense, weren't you? thinking it was just for advertising purposes, his shameless flirting for you, but if he did that only with you, then why weren't you catching on his attempts?

a shame, truly, because you two looked so good together, have it in real life or in the numerous pics of you guys circulating on the internet. but fret not, heizou was confident you would eventually fall for him one day, he could have you in his arms even in a romantic sense, and not only literally, like right now, while he was carrying you in your bedroom after he found you asleep on the couch of your shared apartment.

working late into the night wasn't for you, you know?

kazuha — the bassist

the first time you met kazuha, the impression he left you was quite strong despite his calm, comforting aura. maybe it was right because of that aura of his, such an opposite to his on-stage self, wild and crazy, a side of him only during concerts you were able to see. his fingers were rough on the bass chords, plucking them with harsh strength to keep up with the exciting and fast music you composed together, going so far he had to wear bandages to avoid hurting his fingers.

off-stage, on the other hand, kazuha usually kept to himself, notebook and pen by his side, writing poetry and lyrics. having him around you was like walking on the clouds, feeling so warm and comfortable. and he felt the same with you, so of course your relationship bloomed outside of music, becoming friends.

the white-haired boy was such a softie he had you cooing over him like most of your fans, although they did so both for him and for the romantic relationship they thought you guys were in. and no one could blame them to think so, with how kazuha seemed to have eyes for you only, or with how he was glued to your hip when on stage, foreheads pressed together while playing, lips inches away with only a microphone stopping him from kissing you — the crowd surely wouldn't have complained.

kazuha didn't hide the bluntness of his feelings, but he never explicitly said he was in love with you either. it was in the loving embrace you were always welcomed in, the gentle touches of his fingers littering on your skin, in the quiet voice whispering sweet nothings in your ear while asleep, hoping to give you pleasant dreams.

one day, kazuha told himself, he would have been able to tell you such words while you were awake, not sleeping clinging to his side, hands around his waist and one of his was in your soft hair.

one day, his muse shall know the truth.

venti — the singer

although venti wasn't exactly your usual rock singer, he quickly adapted to your style, but so you did to his. this perfect molding brought you two leaning towards a kind of rock music with classical and ballad influences, creating quite the sub-genre per se. and your growing fans seemed to particularly appreciate such fresh and new stuff.

over the years venti grew quite fond of you and viceversa, so much you two became each other's closest friend. your chemistry was something you didn't get to experience every day, and whoever got to know you and him knew that at first glance.

he was a playful and flirty friend, bringing that same behaviour on stage, knowing way too well it had your fans swooning over him — or maybe on you two, since this flirty behaviour of his was mostly directed at you. arm snaking around you, or cheeks pressed together, or foreheads resting on each other, the boy always managed to have contact with you while his sweet voice echoed in the hall along your guitar. touchy, but you didn't mind, that was his persona after all.

or wasn't it?

off stage venti was calmer, but still always seeking your companionship, almost as if you were his cuddly teddy bear. what you didn't know was that it was his way to have you close, to push away those who tried to flirt with you, to satiate the love he had for you.

yes, venti loved you, dearly, deeply, but most of all quietly. he knew you saw him as a friend only, a dear one, but a friend nonetheless. this knowledge had his heart ache, but he was resolute in not letting you know about his feelings, ever. otherwise, he feared he wouldn't have been able to hold you like this, your head in the crook of his neck and his arms around your waist as you slept, ever again.

you were everything, he couldn't possibly let you go.

wanderer — the drummer

kunikuzushi, known as "scaramouche" (from his previous membership in another band) or "wanderer" (adopted for his solo career), wasn't actually the bandmate you would normally expect. sure, he was one hella good of a drummer and his previous fame helped yours skyrocketing, but except for this he wasn't particularly inclined in dealing with you outside music business.

of course, you weren't expecting to become best friend with the indigo-haired boy, but at least a relationship of close acquaintances was the least, in your opinion. you thought that his "bad boy" persona was just a facade for the fans, but his coldness toward you sometimes had you second guessing.

all of this changed whenever you two were inside the studio or, more often, on the stage. there, kunikuzushi seemed to turn into a totally different person. his deep and raw voice would draw your attention to him, eyes locked together singing at the top of your lungs, music blasting all around you.

what you didn't know, however, was that kuni held such contrasting behaviours toward you for a single, simple, yet stupid reason: he was in love with you. a deep, warming love that swelled in the depths of his heart, away from your knowledge.

loving you inspired him to write those tooth-rooting kind of songs you seemed to like, but they were too obvious regarding your persona to be sang in front of a crowd. he poured his heart in those lyrics, they were personal, for him only — no, not even you.

all the years he spent wearing that stupid "bad boy" mask convinced him he was, indeed, not good enough for a serious relationship so, how could he enter one with you?it was better to leave you alone, but your figure sleeping soundly by his side after another night of concerts, snuggling against him for warmth in that cool night, was giving him a hard time doing so.

you were such a temptation.

xiao — the guitarist

when posting that announcement for a band member, surely you didn't think you'd meet "alatus", a guitarist with a well-known reputation on the underground scene.

xiao was a guy around your age, not particularly expressive but with an impressive knack for music. all of his emotions and feelings were poured into the lyrics he wrote for your band. yours to write was the melody for his words.

this partnership of yours was quite fruitful as, even with you two leaning more onto the underground scene, the virality of your music earned you guys quite the fame even on the mainstream side. and not only because of the excellent and expressive music you and xiao produced.

many of your fans actually shipped you guys really hard because, according to them, the chemistry between you and xiao was one of a kind, more unique than rare. whenever there was a short video of you two back to back, playing the shit out of your guitars, heads leaning on each other's shoulder as the music took over you, your fans would be squirming in place, giggling and kicking their feet.

you, on the other hand, didn't quite understand their excitement. sure, over the years you and xiao spent together had become friends and got to know each other pretty well, not only to find a chemistry to be able to work together, but also because you really enjoyed having the black-and-teal-haired boy by your side. you considered xiao a dear friend, too dense to notice his eyes softening whenever they were on you.

how could you not notice his eyes sparkling when smiling for you, those tiny but genuine smiles only you could pull out of him? or his thoughtfulness about you even outside work, well behind the care a normal friend would have for you?

he sighed to himself, thinking that, one day, he will confess to you and have you two being a couple even outside the band. but for now he was happy like this, your head resting on his lap, knocked out cold after your usual post-show drinks.

what a lightweight you were.

#✧༄ཾ┊ azaliyas #✧༄ཾ┊ azaliya's breaks #genshin headcanons #genshin imagines #genshin x reader #genshin fluff #aether x reader #heizou x reader #kazuha x reader #venti x reader #wanderer x reader #xiao x reader

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