#halfway through at some point he gave up too lol

[halfthebrain]

I think about how possessive Harvey is at least twice a day. How very few people are allowed to touch his things. I also think abt how Mike just came in and started to fiddle with his vinyl player on day one, how he just gets to play with Harvey’s memorabilia. Maybe it’s because Mike is as much his as all of those things.

#marvey #and they don’t even mention it really. like it’s so okay and normal for Mike to idk #I mean obv Harvey’s told him to not touch his things but it’s almost like he only does it for the pretence #halfway through at some point he gave up too lol #my point is: Mike is part of Harvey’s life and has burst into his inner circle the same way he stumbled into that interview #Mike is also Donna approved so… it doesn’t get better than that #BTW I’m proud of my for thinking of the word memorabilia instead of BALLS thx

[bibbykins]

Moonlight Reign Ch. 2

A/N: Sorry I keep disappearing, but hopefully I won't be doing it again! Nothing crazy happened, really, just life gets in the was, you know? But I am back with another part, and I hope you like it!! Everyone say thank you to my sweet B @rapline-heaux for beta-reading. She is the best, go read her stuff!! Also strap in for this one lol

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Yandere! Mafia! BTS x Reader

Words: 5.9k

Warnings: crime, sensory flashbacks, trauma, unhealthy relationships, yandere behavior, pining, violence, past abuse, past neglect, academic neglect, talk of stitches, wound description, panic attack, nails pressing into palm, brief suicidal thought

Namjoon watched the clock tick by as Jungkook slept on his chest. Something about you… didn’t feel right. He couldn’t explain it, and he was pretty sure he wasn’t jealous. Although, he would have reason to be. You were beautiful and your figure only added to it. Not to mention the way you looked straddling Jungkook was objectively erotic looking– but that wasn’t the point. The point was how nonchalant you were about the whole thing. From giving his boyfriend stitches to fighting him off to reacting that way when he grabbed you, Namjoon knew there was something more there. 

The seven of them had built Bangtan from the ground up, and especially as anniversary day was coming up, it unnerved him to encounter someone he couldn’t get a read on. He would need to have Yoongi look into what he could find about you. The seven of them were all leaders, but Namjoon controlled the above-ground operations while Yoongi managed the underground ones, and something told Namjoon he’d need to look there for anything about you. 

First, he just had to get your full name from the younger man drooling on his chest. He sighed as he brushed a hand through Jungkook’s hair, wanting to be angry with him for getting drunk and getting into a fight, but he just couldn’t. After the last few years Jungkook had, he deserved to let loose, what worried him was that he was doing him more often than usual. Jungkook usually only acted out this much when he was holding something in. It didn’t help that the leader had been halfway across the world for the past month. Namjoon was never one to pry or be too good with feelings out of all of them, but he had a nagging feeling it had to do with you. 

Eventually, sleep found the older man and he was awoken by the smell of food wafting into the bedroom. His eyes finally cracked open when he felt a kiss being planted on his cheek, “Wakey, wakey.” Hoseok sang, and chuckled at the look of confusion Namjoon gave him, “Jungkook called us all over for breakfast since it’s been a while since we’ve all been in the same city.” 

Namjoon was finally fully awake and could hear Jungkook singing along to some show tune with Jin in the kitchen and scoffed, “He’s awfully spry for someone who should be nursing one hell of a hangover.” He mumbled and Hoseok snorted.

“Yeah, I’m sure Yoongi is going to want a full report on last night.” The older man shook his head, knowing it would only stress out the aforementioned man, “Brightside is he should calm down when Jimin and Taehyung tell him the news.” The younger man raised a brow in question but Hoseok shook his head, “I’m not the type to spoil a surprise.” He chuckled before pressing a soft kiss to the man’s furrowed brow, “You’ll know soon enough, let’s go.” 

Hand in hand, the two take their seats as Jin and Jungkook place plates in front of the five sitting men, “I see someone is trying to make up for getting trashed last night.” Taehyung sang.

“Or I just miss having all my boyfriends in the same room.” Jungkook huffed as he took his seat next to Yoongi who gave him a glare, “Oh, come on. You cannot seriously be mad at me?” He flashed his doe eyes to the man and fluttered his lashes. 

Jimin clicked his tongue, “That’s not seriously going to work, is it?” He whined, “Yoongi never lets me get away with shit from just looking at him.”

“You get away with plenty.” Jin quipped at the fighter.

Yoongi ignored the commotion as his hands brushed Jungkook’s hair out of the way to look at the stitches, “Who did those, baby?” His voice was soft but with the way the youngest man shrunk, he knew he wouldn’t like the answer. 

“Well, I guess I’ll just go ahead and give the report of last night’s events.” Namjoon huffed through a bite of bacon, “You want to start, Kook?” He raised a brow.

The man sighed and nodded, “Well, I finished all my work early, like usual.” He began smugly. Jungkook in general was a skilled person, so he didn’t have just one job, but most often he was digging up dirt on people via his computer skills, “Then, I had my regular neighbor dinner.” He smiled at the thought, and Jin noticed Jimin and Taehyung scowling a bit at this. The two were the most jealous of this elusive neighbor, which was odd since even on the seldom occasions the others sought the company of someone else, it never affected any of them. Nowadays, they don’t really go outside of the relationship, but it’s still interesting to see them so jealous, but they kept silent as Jungkook continued, “We watched Jimin win, so then I decided to go out and… celebrate.” His smile turned guilty.

“This close to the anniversary, Kook?” Jin sighed and Yoongi kept deathly quiet. 

“I’ll assume that’s where your memory stops?” Hoseok asked and Jungkook nodded sheepishly.

“Well, I then got a call from one of our guys at around three in the morning that some rookie was running his mouth and pissed Kook off.” Namjoon sighed, “Jungkook won the fight even sloshed out of his mind if that’s any consolation.”

“Nice.” Jimin grunts and Taehyung snickers at the glare Yoongi shoots him.

“Then, I drag him all the way here and he collapses at his neighbor’s door, insisting she’ll fix him up.” The CEO continues the story and notes how Hoseok shifts at the mention of this, “What was even weirder is that she did, like it was super normal.”

“It’s not that normal.” Jungkook argued weakly.

“She said it wasn’t uncommon.” Namjoon snapped and Yoong put his head in his hands, “I will also say it was really eerie the way she could just handle how Jungkook gets when she woke up.” 

“She’s a nurse, you guys know that.” The man tried to defend.

“A high school nurse.” Taehyhung corrected, causing the hacker to pout, “I doubt she has to restrain her patients regularly.” 

“Did I hurt her when I woke up?” Jungkook asked and this made Namjoon falter.

“That doesn’t matter right now.” The CEO offers, “What I was getting at is I think Yoongi and Jungkook should do a deeper background check than the initial one we did-”

“No.” Jungkook spat, partly shocking Namjoon at the venom in his voice. The youngest’s face was twisted in distaste at the idea, “You all promised-”

“That was before I saw the way-”

“No!” He shouted, shocking everyone at the table as his eyes began to glisten, “I’ve known her for years now, and she’s never been pushy about what’s going on in my life or why I have six boyfriends she’s never even met and in return, I don’t ask her questions.” Namjoon’s jaw clenched at this. Most of the time if an arrangement was too good to be true, it’s because it was. If he didn’t care so much about Jungkook’s love and trust he wouldn’t have even bothered to bring it up. At times like these, being in love was more frustrating than ever as he listened to Jungkook, “She trusts me and I trust her that way, I don’t want to ruin the only friendship I have outside of us.” His voice cracks at the end, making everyone soften a bit. Jungkook was right. It’s been just them for a long time, and you were the only friend he really had. You weren’t a drinking mate or gambling buddy, you were a friend. And yet, he felt like Namjoon was trying to take that away from him.

“Kook, have you considered she might not ask questions because she’s hiding something herself?” Taehyung gently asked, but it didn’t simmer the hacker’s anger.

“I don’t care if she’s hiding anything.” He snapped, making Jin sigh, “I’m hiding plenty and none of that has stopped us from being close so please, just leave it alone.” He pleaded, but Yoongi’s expression was unreadable, “Hoseok did those couple random shadows of her a few years ago and he saw nothing of concern.” He reminded them, and truthfully, how could any of them have forgotten? The act itself caused one of their worst arguments to date. Originally, Taehyung insisted on Jungkook digging up every piece of information he could about her and giving it to them, which made the youngest even more closed off about his friend. Finally, after days of disagreeing, Hoseok was the only one entrusted with your full name, not that it would’ve been all that hard to find.

The man in question nodded, “It was quite boring actually, but it’s true. Even the phone calls she took were a snoozefest.” He sighed just remembering them, “I’d never seen such a killjoy of a college student before, and I’m sure she’s the same as a nurse.” Granted, Hoseok’s specialty was not in surveillance, but Taehyung and Jungkook were too biased in opposite ways to do the shadowing, and the chemist was the only one with the extra time to do it. 

Jungkook nodded, “She really does just go to work and home.” He mumbled ruefully, “Plus, even if she’s someone else or whatever, at the end of the day, she saves me a hospital trip and hasn’t said anything to anyone, evidently.” He added and Namjoon looked to Yoongi who sighed in defeat but nodded.

“Fine, we’ll drop it.” Yoongi finally spoke and Namjoon bristled, “She hasn’t caused any trouble, sounds like a good friend, and is smart enough not to ask any questions. There’s no reason not to trust Jungkook’s judgment.” He explained to the more skeptical men, Namjoon, Taehyung, and Jimin, who simply nodded in defeat before turning to the youngest, “Just, be more careful, okay?” He looked to the younger man who nodded before giving him a chaste kiss on the lips, “It was pretty risky bringing Namjoon there, even if accidentally. If she does know anything, she could’ve recognized him as the head of Bangtan Corp and unraveled quite a bit.” He said and Jungkook nodded. Even though he doubted you even knew an underground existed, let alone that Bangtan was running it, he understood Yoongi being weary, “Let’s enjoy our breakfast together, yeah?”

They all nodded before falling into their regular lull. No matter how much time they spent apart for work, it was easy for them to get together like no time had passed. The seven of them had been dating for a couple of years now, and though the relationship was loving, it was by no means perfect, that much was obvious. The organization had risen to its height because of their ability to work through those hardships together, but with the rise of their syndicate came less time for one another. This paired with secrets and disagreements that were littered throughout the relationship made for a good chunk of tension when work was exceptionally stressful, like during the anniversary. This was why the relationship was open, but Jungkook was the only one with a consistent connection outside of them, which was most likely why it ruffled some of their feathers. 

“Now, I’m told Taehyung and Jimin have some good news?” Namjoon brings up and the two men in question grin at each other, and he can tell they’re silently deciding who should be the one to say it. 

“We found a certain little weasel last night.” Taehyung sang. 

“Found and captured.” Jimin added, and the two didn’t need to elaborate for the other men to know what they meant. 

Yoongi smirked, sadism written along his features as he caught Namjoon’s eyes, “We’ve got an exciting day ahead of us.”

—

Your eyes cracked open slowly as you hissed when sunlight invaded your pupils. You squinted, not sure how you forgot to fully close the blinds, especially during the anniversary week, but you let it go. Work had been especially a nightmare with the beginning of a new term, and the blinds were just barely cracked, not enough for anyone to peak in much but certainly enough for the sun to wreak havoc on you. You stretched your arms forward, taking in a deep breath before craning your neck to look at the time, 10:24 am, nice. You actually managed to get a good amount of sleep even with the chaos at your door last night. 

Your sleepy eyes landed on the shallow cut on your forearm beneath the wrapping you put on it. It looked a lot like a cat scratch, which you were thankful for. The last thing you needed was any nosy colleagues or students asking too many questions. Telling people you got the wound from having to tackle your only friend was less than ideal. You snorted to yourself. Truly, you should have more questions or concerns with Jungkook, but you just didn’t have it in you anymore. You spend the entire first two years of your friendship insanely weary, and you already spend your time like that with everyone else. It was nice to have someone you didn’t need to constantly be on guard from. Your fingertips ran over the bandage, hoping that you had made the right choice, but even then, it was far too late to change anything now. 

You liked Jungkook more than you cared to admit, even to yourself, so when you heard his telltale knocking on your door in the middle of your morning cable surfing, you didn’t even bother to turn off the TV before going to the door. You rolled your neck before opening the door with a bored expression when Jungkook’s wide eyes met yours, “Morning, sport.” You drawled, leaning against your door frame.

Crossing your arms over your chest, Jungkook took notice of the bandage on your forearm, “Did I do that?” He asked worriedly.

You shrugged, looking away from him, “If you think about it, the needle is technically the culprit–”

“Y/n, I’m serious.” He pleaded, making you straighten up, but your gaze stayed fixed elsewhere, “Look at me, please.” He spoke, and you cursed yourself for obeying. You were accustomed to following orders, and something about the way Jungkook bothered to say please made it that much easier to listen to him, but you could only hope he didn’t realize this. “Did I hurt you?” His gaze burned you, and it made you hate his need for eye contact at times like these.

You sighed, examining the guilt on his face. The look made you feel like an asshole even though you didn’t do anything wrong. You didn’t like this part of your friendship. The serious, gravelly talks about what he did last night or about whatever breakdown of yours he happened to witness. The care in his eyes was suffocating, but addicting all the same. It made you feel self-conscious about your lack of clothing, but you were sure not even a parka wouldn’t make you feel any less vulnerable. The honesty in his eyes curled around you like smoke that you had no choice but to inhale and exhale right back to him. Flat-out lying to Jungkook has seldom been an option, especially about things like this, “Fine, when you woke up you were panicked and somehow made my hand slip and caused the needle I was working with to give me a little scratch.” You explained, eyes begging to avoid his again.

“That’s a big bandage for a little scratch.” He observed skeptically and you slipped your arms behind your back. He sighed, “I’m sorr–”

You shook your head. Much like actual birthday gifts, apologies had been foreign to you before Jungkook, and you didn’t like to nor know how to accept them, “I promise, it’s no deeper than a paper cut.” You looked up at him through your lashes, his expression now unreadable, which was somehow worse than the guilt.

He raised a brow, utterly unconvinced, “Let me see.” He wasn’t asking or pleading this time, but you didn’t have it in you to go against him.

You rolled your eyes, “Only because it’s about time to take it off anyway.” You huffed, only partially lying. It was time to let the wound air out a bit, but you both knew it wasn’t the only reason. You had spent most of your life taking in and thriving on the fear, guilt, and despair of others people. You loved the taste of the power you wielded, but nothing was more sour on your tongue than Jungkook’s dim mood. You turned around, peeling off the medical tape and walking to your counter as you heard your door close. Throwing the dressing in the trash, you looked at the wound with a nod before spinning to face the man approaching you, “See? It’s nothing.” You presented the thin line of scabs to him. He studied it, face still unreadable that was, until you flinched when his hand darted out to hold your wrist. The horror in his eyes made you feel physically ill as he went to withdraw, but you panicked and moved to hold his hand there, “Come on, you know it’s not because of you.” You reasoned, voice barely above a whisper. 

His jaw clenched, but he nodded solemnly. The question of who it was burned his tongue as he pressed his mouth closed. He’d seen more than enough of your episodes to know that you had plenty of reasons to flinch and he had to swallow the urge to find every single reason and end them with his bare hands. Horrible things happened to you, and he wasn’t sure if not knowing was worse than what would become of him if he ever found out. He diverted his gaze back to the scratch, and you wanted to ask him what he was doing until he leaned down. Your breathing ceased as you watched his lips brush lightly over the wound in the form of the softest kiss he’d ever given you, “There, all better.” His joking tone was strained with his smile when he stood straight again, but you appreciated the effort. 

His chest felt a bit lighter when you smiled softly, “What a hero.” You deadpanned. 

The reality was that Jungkook wanted to rip the door off its hinges, he was so pissed off at himself. Plus with that door gone, there’d be just a bit less between the two of you, and he needed to ignore why that sounded so sickeningly sweet. Regardless, he knew you hated moments like these, moments where the air was still but heavy with a million unspoken words between you two, so he felt compelled to throw out a light comment since he couldn’t outright comfort you that often, “I’ll be more careful, I promise. I’ve just been so…”

You nodded sympathetically, “Yeah, this week is pretty rough for me too.” You sighed, staring at the way his thumb absent-mindedly rubbed along your skin. The affection created a pit in your stomach that you couldn’t explain, but you promised yourself it was just how friends felt for each other sometimes.

“Hey, I think you’ve been doing pretty good lately.” He chided softly, and a mix of embarrassment and pride filled you at his words, “I haven’t slept with you in weeks now.” He pointed out, and the fake pout on his lips made you chuckle, mind still partially lost in the way his thumb stroked your arm.

You knew he was just trying to lighten the reminder of how your screams would wake him up some nights. On those nights, Jungkook would all but break down your door in an effort to sleep next to you. It was weird for you, even still, sleeping next to someone. It brought out feelings in you that you didn’t want to deal with, so you did your best to make Jungkook’s presence in your bedroom as rare as possible, “Miss me?” You asked sarcastically, still so lost in his ministrations. Affection is something you’d only ever gotten from the man in front of you, so it was hard to tell if it would feel this nice from anyone else. 

“All the time.” He responded quickly and with so much sincerity it made your chest seize for a moment. Jungkook cleared his throat, breaking his eye contact with you for just a moment, “I hope Namjoon wasn’t a dick to you.” He spoke, snapping you out of your trance with his touch as you retracted your arm, almost deluding yourself into thinking he tried to hold onto you for a split second. 

“He was just being protective of his baby.” You snickered at how Jungkook bristled with the term, “A protective dick, but I get it. I’m a total stranger–”

“Hey, you’re my best friend.” He chided, with a smile that was a bit less strained than before. 

You scoffed, “I’m your only friend.”

He shrugged with a more amused grin, “I said what I said.” 

You rolled your eyes, “Anyway did you only come to–” You were cut off by your phone buzzing on the table. 

Both you and Jungkook knitted your brows at this. It was degradingly rare for anyone other than him or work to call you, “You cheating on me?” He playfully asked and you pushed him by the shoulder before going to answer the call. 

You picked up the device cautiously, “It’s a random number.” You said lightly, but something felt wrong. “Don’t tell me I’m about to get a ton of prank calls because I pissed one of your boyfriends off?” You tried to joke as the phone finally went to voicemail.

Jungkook snorted at this, “Yeah, Joonie’s not the prank call type.”

“No way? He seemed like a real court jester.” You sarcastically said, making your friend laugh more. 

“A+ on the tone, B+ for the reference.” He chuckled, and you beamed at this. Jungkook spent the first two years of your friendship helping you grasp the ins and outs of day-to-day interactions, so it was nice to see how far you’ve come. “I haven’t heard the term ‘court jester’ so casually, like, ever, but it gets points for creativity.”

“You know me, I’m a real artist- ugh, again?” You looked down at your phone as it buzzed again with the same number. 

“Just answer, maybe it’s important.” He reasoned, and you nodded but the idea made you feel sick, “Oh, but put it on speaker I wanna hear if it is a prank call.” He grinned

Pushing the feeling of unease down, you rolled your eyes and answered, putting it on speaker, “Hello–”

“Y/n! Y-You gotta get me out of here, I’m–” Ice water flooded your veins as the man’s voice invaded your senses. Your eyes bulged once you fully realized Jungkook was standing right there, hearing this god-forsaken voice and you gasped before taking it off speaker. 

“Who is this?” You seethed, lying to everyone in the room. You’d know that whiny voice anywhere. Goosebumps sprouted along your arms and your stomach churned as your uncle's shaky breathing entered your mind, “How did you get my number?” You demanded quietly as you turned from Jungkook and put some distance between you both.

“Y/n, they found me and I’m–” He coughed and your eye twitched, pathetic.

“Lose my number.” You ordered, moving to hang up.

“I’ll tell them!” He shouted, making you pause. You didn’t even know who “they” were, but you certainly didn’t care to find out, “I’ll tell them who you are, where you are–”

“You don’t know that.” You called his bluff, but fear soaked into your rage, dampening its strengthening effects on your body. You could feel yourself getting smaller with each millisecond of silence that followed. 

“I have your number.” He challenged, and you scoffed. That was undoubtedly all he had. Jungyoon had never been built for the mind games, he was the muscle and nothing else, through and through.

“Won’t be mine for much longer, I promise.” You fumed quietly, and the whimper that leaked from him told you that was all the leverage he had, or at least you hoped so, “I’m not the one who was on national fucking TV just so I could watch a stupid fight, so you dug your grave. Don’t pass me the shovel.” 

“Wh-How can you even say that I’m–” He tried desperately.

“You must have the wrong number if you’re planning on finishing that sentence.” You forced out before hanging up. You let out a shaky breath before throwing your phone on the couch. 

Byungjoo was caught. If he was caught that meant you weren’t safe anymore. Were you ever really safe? Why did you stay in the country? What were you thinking? Did you seriously think Byungyeol would come back from you? Did you seriously stay in the same place he lost you like a child? And now what? You were dead, utterly dead–

No. You were safe. You had to be. You never went anywhere, and your face was never known by the public or that many people in the organization. You were smart, you had–

“Y/n, hey, hey.” Jungkook’s voice cut through the radio static that heightened the panic in your head. 

You looked at him, eyes wild but in a state he’s seen before, “I-It…” The words died in your throat as panic held you in a vice grip. Your nails dug into your palm, and the pain did nothing to satiate you as your knees buckled. Jungkook caught you before you could hit the ground, and you almost wished he hadn’t. You’d give anything to feel the pain radiating up your leg, the linoleum against your palms, anything to remind you that you were in your home and not wherever the hell the people who took Byungjoo planned to take you. You steadied yourself, the haze of panic subsiding momentarily, “I’m okay.” You lied, placing your hand on the couch so you could stand on your own.

“Who the hell was that and why–” You cut Jungkook off with a look, a look you’ve both used on each other, a look that begged him not to pry so you don’t have to lie to him, “I just… I’m worried.”

“Don’t be worried.” It came off as more of a plea than reassurance, and you cringed.

Jungkook wet his dry lips as he looked you over. You were talking, but you still had that look in your eyes that promised you wouldn’t be able to for much longer. His chest ached as he watched you try to crush the panic down and put on a brave face for him. More than anything, he wanted to cup your cheeks and promise you it was okay, and if it wasn’t, it will be. He wanted to fix it so badly, do anything to ensure that you weren’t about to break, so against his better judgment, he spoke, “I heard you say something about seeing him on TV, was it that guy from work–”

“Yes.” You said too quickly, and he tensed, “He’s… uh, just unhinged, and it just unsteadied me a bit.” You nodded, the fib burning your tongue, “I guess the principal saw him last night and he got in trouble…” You sighed, it was exhausting to do this, and you didn’t want to have to do this at all, “I don’t know it just…” You simply couldn’t do it. You couldn’t force any more lies out, you didn’t have it in you to do much other than clasp your hands over your ears and squeeze your eyes shut. 

Everything you’d built for yourself flashed in the blink of an eye. It wasn’t much, but it was yours. In an instant, it could be taken away, and there’s nothing you could really do about it. You weren’t nearly as lethal as you used to be, and judging by the little you’ve heard about the heads of Bangtan, you’re training would pale in comparison to their abilities. It took them no more than a year to dethrone your father, and you had no doubt it would take them no more than a second to end your life. Now, it was no longer a matter of if, but when they were going to catch up to you. 

—

Disgust infiltrated your sorrow as you watched Byunjoo smile lovingly while his wife, Minji, explained how your deaths would go with a little too much “pep in her step” as she would say to you when you were reporting the gruesome details of a job. She was disgusted with you for several reasons, but she was perfectly fine with your father, so it didn’t make sense when he directed just about everything you did. Nevertheless, you sat straight-faced as you heard the plan. Although you weren’t sure what she or your uncle was so proud of, the plan was quite simple. 

You were to burn it all. You were to watch the house you grew up in, the house where you took your first steps, said your first words, and had your first kill, crumble to smithereens with the empire you were supposed to inherit. Something, though, was missing. The list of names of the people who would live to watch the ash and smoke was noticeably… short.

“...Now we will have to get rid of everyone who knows your face, y/n-” Minji explained, that sickening smile on her hot pink lips but the disgust she held for you never left her eyes. You weren’t sure what you did to make her hate you so much, but you hardly cared now that you hated her just as fiercely.

“No.” You immediately spoke, and you could see your father stiffen in the corner of your eye, but you only broke your stare with your aunt when you heard Byungjoo sigh.

He and Minji were the only two that didn’t completely crumble under your unwavering stare, and it was times like these that it irritated you. Byungjoo was the right-hand man to your father, and he was a ruthless man. He loved nothing but money and his treacherous wife, even hated everything but money and his equally soulless wife. One exception, however, was your father, and he only claimed to love you because your father did.

“Y/n, it's for your safety.” Byungjoo explained as if you were a child, as if he spoke to you with any kind of decorum when you were a child, as if you were so easy to pacify when it came to the slaughter of the staff in this house that raised you.

“If you do it, I will throw myself into the fire,” You seethed and Byungjoo chuckled, assuming it was a joke. He always did that. Took your defiance of him as a silly comment or you being a rebellious teen, regardless of the fact that you were about to be 19 and never respected him enough to consider your disagreements rebellions, “I swear on the blood of my father, I will die with those people,” Byungjoo ceased his giggles immediately.

Your father, however, took your death threats seriously off the bat. Byungyeol was not stupid enough to take the little words you spoke as anything other than what you meant. He was the one who taught you not to waste your breath, after all. Truthfully, you weren’t sure if your death would make a difference, but there was that glint in your father’s eyes still that told you he just might care. His dying pride remained intact barely and you, his only child, were his only legacy, a legacy that needed to live on. 

Byungjoo may have been a bumbling idiot, but he could see the resolve in his brother's eyes. Minji had no such tact as she clicked her tongue in distaste, “Y/n-”

“Let it go.” Your father’s voice sounded, startling the couple silent while maintaining sharp eye contact with you, waiting for your gaze to waver even slightly. When you remained headstrong he sighed, “Make the list of who lives, y/n, and they will.” He spoke with a finality you’ve heard countless times before turning to your aunt and uncle, “End of discussion.”

—

You should’ve done it. You should’ve opted to burn. Regret pooled into your senses until it was all you could feel, until the only thing you could see was that beckoning flame, calling your name to come home. 

Just as you could feel the sting of tears behind your lids, you felt him. Two hands slid over yours and rhythmic tapping reverberated throughout your skull from above your ear. You slowly opened your eyes, and Jungkook occupied your line of sight. He did you the grace of looking away. You weren’t sure if it was because of the shameful sight in front of you or if it was because he knew you were embarrassed, but you liked to pretend it was the latter. 

1, 2, 3, 4 

Jungkook swallowed thickly as he listened for your breathing to stabilize. He looked above your head at the clock on the wall and sighed. He was going to be late for his meeting with his team on digging up the whereabouts of the most coveted target. He could easily walk away, but he stayed rooted in his spot, tapping in quartets as he waited patiently for you to calm down. Though he didn’t understand your affinity for the number, and you never disclosed it to him, he was thankful to be observant enough to notice it at times like these. So he watched the seconds tick by as he tapped, pausing for a few seconds in between each grouping, because the thought of leaving you alone like this felt like it would kill him. He already has a hard time sleeping knowing you’re just a few steps away, there’s no way he’d be able to work knowing you were in the throes of an episode. Finally, your breathing was becoming consistently normal until–

“No.” You whispered with something utterly sick to his ears laced in the word. It was fear. You were scared, and he had no idea why. Never in your years of friendship had he seen you truly afraid like this. He looked at you, boundaries be damned, and saw you were fixated on the TV.

Turning his head to see what it was, his entire body froze.

You had left the news on, and on it, Namjoon stared back at you as he conducted a press conference… as head of Bangtan Corporation. It was like your world ceased turning. The pressurized cracks on your life here gave in the moment you looked to Jungkook and realized he saw what frightened you, and you could see the wheels turning on why it could be. No poker faces could be had between you as despair reflected in both of your pupils. You were terrified to discover one of his boyfriends was the head, or at least one of the heads of Bangtan, and he was devastated to find out you knew enough to be afraid. 

It was over, for both of you.

----------------------------------------------------------

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Masterlist

#bts mafia au #bts fanfic #bts series #bts poly au #ot7 x reader #yandere bts #yandere bts x reader #bts x reader #mafia bts #yandere mafia bts

[hum-suffer]

I'm Yours 4

Warning: it's not too explicit but I'd rate it nsfw just to be safe. They're just kissing lol (baki you can read, it's legit no plot)

____________________________________________________

Mayank is... something great. He's self assured, cocky and easy to get along with.

The way he slid next to Ishan and danced with him on Dil Di Nazar made Ishan want to scream with joy. The man knew the steps to the movie music video and Ishan instantly gave him brownie points.

Now, they go back and forth, dancing on Señorita as they go and Ishan laughs at the way Mayank butchers the Spanish, instead saying some very unflattering things in Hindi.

Mayank grabs his hand and spins him around, abruptly dipping him. The smile on his face shrinks and Ishan almost wants to hit the man. He controls his urge and takes a step back. He doesn't like being touched so intimately, not at all in a crowd like this. His partner doesn't seem to care much and continues to dance and another song starts to play.

Ishan only recognises the song when it's halfway done and Mayank is holding his hips loosely and dancing completely off beat. Dhan Te Nan is a fast song and this man is dancing almost way too slow for Ishan to even think decently of him. The brownie points are deducted instantly.

Mayank languishly closes his eyes and moves his body in a way that it grazes Ishan's. Ishan closes his eyes too, deciding to enjoy his time out even if it's with someone who doesn't know when to grind and when to dance.

A hand dances at his back, finger tips drawing mindless patterns.

Ishan moves in tandem with the beat as it slows down at the end of the song and slightly raises one of his foot to graze the inside of Mayank's leg.

He opens his eyes to see his reaction but before he can actually discern anything, the lights turn off and another song starts. Uff Teri Adaa starts to play, Ishan knows it because he has it by heart by now.

The club is way too dark without the lights, no windows available in the room. Ishan finds he likes the feeling. The hand from his back and hip disappears abruptly.

Ishan feels arms wrap around his waist from behind. It takes his added brain a moment to understand it but the arms don't feel the same as they did a while ago when he was dipped.

These arms are stronger and hold him in a more comfortable manner. He can break away if he so wishes.

Ishan continues to dance, marvelling at his luck to be suddenly of interest to more than one person.

He feels a forehead at his shoulder, and the arms at his waist shift, fingers splayed over his stomach. The hands are cold, he can feel them perfectly through his thin shirt. Perhaps the stranger had been holding a glass.

From the minute space between two buttons, the stranger slips a finger inside Ishan's shirt as they dance pathetically slow to the song. Ishan can't find it in himself to care about either Mayank or the song or the dance. The cold finger on his warm skin makes his muscles contract and breath hitch.

Ishan throws his head back and the stranger shifts again, nuzzling up Ishan's throat with his nose. Ishan feels teeth graze the corner of his jaw in the imitation of a bite before lips are pressed behind his ears.

"You told me I'm yours," the stranger speaks in a deep voice. Ishan is a bit disoriented from the loud music, but he thinks he's heard the voice before. It's a throaty, raspy voice. "But you're mine too, love."

The pet name brings him back to Earth.

There's only one person who calls him that.

He doesn't know what it says about him but instead of running, Ishan tilts his head further. It's the alcohol, he tells himself.

(He lies. He barely drank a sip of beer before he passed it off to Aditi because it tasted like bullshit.)

The lips shift and he feels a smile at his nape. "I don't let anyone else touch what's mine, love. Won't you be a good boy and cooperate for me?"

Warmth pools in his stomach. He stiffles a groan and sneers in the dark. "And yet, I've yet to see the one who belongs to me. Do you want to upset me, sweet boy?"

Fuck the fucking beer.

(Fuck his need to be so fucking possessive. Fuck his need to know. Fuck the warmth he's feeling in his blood right now.

Fuck him.)

He hears a groan and feels the vibrations on his skin and the way the a huff blows the hair at his nape. Ishan shivers as the finger over his torso slips out and the hand snakes up to cup his throat.

He gulps and he's sure the admirer can feel it. Ishan can feel his shiver at his back.

"Be a good boy, Ishan," he says, and Ishan almost combusts at the way his name sounds, so desired and so wanted and so so passionate. "Walk with me."

Ishan nods, his curiosity makes him a slave as the admirer slides the hand away from his throat and again wraps both his arms around Ishan's waist as he's led to a place he doesn't know.

The grip is still loose enough that Ishan can shrug him off.

He doesn't.

____________________________________________________

The admirer stops them when they're in another room. It's dark here too, no lights.

Ishan feels himself being pushed against a wall and then his body is covered with warmth again, hidden under another's.

"Tell me to stop and I will," the admirer says, and Ishan wants to hug him. He doesn't, but just nods.

The next thing he knows, there's hands all over his body. A hand goes behind his head to shield him from the wall and other one goes back to his hip. There's lips on his brow and they trail down slowly, almost painstakingly.

Ishan whimpers, shivering with the effect the hot breath and cold hands have on him. Before he knows what he's doing, his hands are raising and he grabs the shirt that the admirer is wearing and—

Motherfucker.

It's his shirt. His blue silk shirt.

The texture is the same, the small fake diamonds forming a curve at the second last button is the same. Ishan bunches up the fabric in his hands and groans when feverish lips press at his cheeks.

"Stealing is a crime," he says, panting. The admirer chuckles.

He retorts,"If you belong to me, so does your shirt, love."

"I don't belong to you."

"Yet."

The hot kisses shift downward, to his jaw and then his throat. Ishan tenses up for a fraction of a moment when he feels his a hand on the centre of his chest where he's left the top two buttons open.

A finger trails down saliciously.

"You wore this for me, love?" The admirer says, his breath coming faster as if he's affected by their exchange as much as Ishan is. He moves his face and buries it in Ishan's throat, licking almost sweetly at the base of his throat.

Hysterically, Ishan is glad that he's forgone to use any perfume on his skin and instead opted for a light ittar on his clothes. He doesn't think tasting perfume would have been pleasant for the admirer.

He's pulled out of his thoughts when teeth graze at his throat again before he's actually bitten. Ishan can't supress the groan he feels and automatically, one of his hands flies from the shirt to his admirer's hair. His hair is soft, Ishan notes distantly as he grabs a handful— to shove back or forth, he doesn't know.

The admirer seems to take the decision for Ishan as he moves, barely an inch, and bites his skin again. Ishan feels him lick the area with the tip of his tongue.

"No one puts their hands on you, do you understand, love?" The admirer asks.

Ishan doesn't know how to answer that and the hand previously on his chest goes down to grab his shirt and pull Ishan closer. Ishan feels another bite at the corner of his jaw and keens, pulling the admirer closer by his hair.

"Do you understand, Ishan?" He asks again, voice directly in Ishan's ear before he bites his earlobe.

"Yeah," Ishan pants. "Yeah, yeah, I do. I understand."

He is rewarded handsomely for his agreement.

The free hand, the one that isn't tugging him by the shirt and making him feel things he definitely should not be feeling, slithers around his body. The admirer slips his hand in Ishan's back pocket and squeezes lightly.

Ishan gasps, digging his nails in the skin of the admirer's neck.

"Can I kiss you, love? I'll leave you alone if you say no, I promise." The admirer sounds so sincere and so sober. Ishan is drunk on the feeling of his hands on his body. He wants more. He shouldn't, he knows, this admirer could turn out to be a psychopath for all he knows, but.

But his touch is absolute sin. And Ishan has never been a saint.

"Please." Is all he whispers.

The last time Ishan kissed someone was four months ago, when they were playing truth and dare and someone dared him to kiss Aditi. It was awkward and hellish to kiss his best friend of years. Plus, she'd been eating garlic bread, so it was worse.

His admirer? He tasks like ice and something fruity. His lips move against Ishan's, slowly at first, as if he can't believe it and then he absolutely devours Ishan. The admirer groans against Ishan's mouth and Ishan slips his hand under his, Ishan's ,untucked shirt and splays a hand over the man's torso like he did with Ishan not too long ago.

The admirer slows down and Ishan breathes deeply as they pull apart. He wants more. He wants it back.

With all the strength he can manage with his limps so loose and thoughts out of sorts, Ishan flips them so the admirer is pushed against the wall where Ishan was standing. He keeps him there with a hand on his chest and he hears a pop, only to realise that the admirer actually ended up breaking a button on Ishan's shirt with his sudden shift.

"Can I kiss you?" He asks, his voice sounding rough and croaky to his ears. "Please, baby, let me. Let me please you."

The admirer whimpers and Ishan feels the nod from where his hand still lies against the man's neck.

Ishan kisses the admirer like a man starved and moves his other hand to cup his cheek. He can feel the shapely jaw and high and full cheek bones. Ishan moves his hand to cushion the admirer's head as his kiss turns more ardent and Ishan has the wildest idea to stake his claim as well.

He can feel the throbbing on his neck, jaw and throat, and knows that he will have hickeys. It's only fair that he gives repayment.

The admirer groans as Ishan bites at his jaw and his Addam's apple, panting in Ishan's ear in the way that only encourages him.

He swipes his tongue over his admirer's neck and plants a final hickey at his jawline, just an inch away from his chin.

Impossible to hide.

His.

Ishan's.

The way that the admirer whimpers makes Ishan want to do unspeakable things to him. But before it can go any further, the admirer plants a hand over Ishan's mouth. Ishan blinks owlishly even if it's of no use in the bloody dark room.

"I have to go now," his admirer says roughly and shifts. Ishan feels the impact he has had on his admirer. He feels proud for some inexplicable reason. "But we will meet again, love. And until then, no one else touches you, okay?"

Ishan wants to say something scathing and sassy but he purses his lips and nods. "Okay. Can I see your face, at least?"

"Not today, love. Someday else." And there's a hand over his eyes now.

And again, Ishan let's himself be led by a man he doesn't know.

It's only when the cold of the hands disappear from his body that he opens his eyes to see himself at the dance floor again.

Ishan doesn't see Mayank for the rest of the night.

____________________________________________________

Tagging: @kyayaarkiraa @fortunatelycrazyyouth @khwxbeeda @ek-ladki-bheegi-bhagi-si @ishkrisq @k-h-watari @ispeakmorelanguagesthanyou @ms-potato @onthecloudseven @mayakimayahai @athena-swords

#Shubhman gill #ishan kishan #fanfiction #dude i swear i mean no disrespect pakka #im just a girl who's obessed #cricket #ishman #shubish #mayank Agrawal #bro lmao i almost forgot that i added him as a character lol👩🏻‍🦯 #sorry bby

[ichorai]

blueberries ; one.

pairing ; joey tribbiani x gn!reader chapter synopsis ; the one with runaway brides, pregnant wives, and homewreckers. wc ; 8.5k warnings / includes ; talks of sex/suggestive content, mild cursing, mentions of cheating, reader is a physicist and also bisexual, literally everyone in the group is fruity other than ross lol

series masterlist. main masterlist.

The pretty waitress strode towards you with a sweet smile, your warm cup of tea balanced on one hand, and Joey’s slice of double fudge cake in the other. She dropped it by the table and you noticed a small piece of folded paper by the edge of your cup. 

Once she was gone, you picked up the paper and unfurled it, a smile growing across your lips.

“Whatcha got there?” Chandler asked, peering over your shoulder. 

“I think it’s the waitress’ number,” you replied, folding it back and pocketing it safely within your jeans. “She’s real pretty.”

Joey, already halfway through with his cake, teasingly spoke around a full mouth, “Too bad you never leave the house other than to hang with us. I can take that number off of you if you never end up using it.”

You shot him a half-hearted scowl, but remained quiet.

Just then, Monica and Phoebe strolled into the cafe, taking a seat on the large sofa beside you and Chandler. 

“There’s nothing to say, really,” the dark-haired woman told Phoebe in a defensive tone. “He’s just some guy I work with.”

“What’re you guys talking about?” Joey asked, having fully inhaled his cake in a matter of minutes. 

“Monica’s going out with someone,” you replied, wrinkling your nose in amusement and curling your legs up beneath you. You drank a sip of your tea as an excuse to hide away from her withering glare. “Isn’t that right, Monica?”

A roguish grin stretched across Joey’s features. “Come on. What’s the catch? You’re going out with a guy—there’s gotta be somethin’ wrong with him.”

“Does he eat chalk?” Phoebe queried, placing a comforting hand on Monica’s shoulder. “I don’t want you to go through what I went through with Carl, you know?”

The five of you grimaced at the memory of Carl.

“It’s not even a date!” said Monica, brushing her dark hair away from her face. “It’s just two people going out to dinner—and not having sex.”

Chandler scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. “Sounds like all the dates I’ve had.”

It was then that Ross came into the cafe, drenched from foot to toe. You glanced behind you to the window, surprised to see that it had started to rain without you realizing. It looked like your long-time friend was crying, but you couldn’t really tell if it was rainwater or tears that were on his face.

“Hi,” he mumbled, morose. 

You arched a brow. “You okay, Ross?”

He shook his head, squeezing between you and Chandler on the sofa. The two of you grimaced when his sodden clothes dripped all over you, and Chandler rolled his eyes before getting up and sinking into another chair. 

“Feels like someone reached down my throat, ripped out my small intestine, pulled it out of my mouth, and tied it around my neck.”

“Cookie?” Chandler offered. Ross ignored him.

Monica sighed. “Carol moved her stuff out today,” she offered as an explanation, knowing Ross would take well over an hour of moping to finally get to the point. “Let me go grab you some coffee.”

As his sister left, Ross crossed his arms, swatting Phoebe away when she tried to cleanse his aura, as she often did. “I’ll be fine—really, I will. I hope she’ll be very happy.”

“No, you don’t, Ross,” you quipped.

“No, I don’t! To hell with her, she left me!”

Joey snorted. “And you never knew she was a lesbian?”

“I knew—” you said pointedly. “Ross just never listened to me.”

“I didn’t think you were being serious!” he exclaimed. “I don’t know, sometimes you joke about things being gay and stuff so I just thought it was a joke I wasn’t in on. Because, you know, I’m not—”

Lightly punching him in the shoulder, you gave him a stern look. “I know you’re not gay, Ross. Why would I joke about your wife being gay?”

“I mean, you did say she was really hot once,” Phoebe chimed, much to your dismay. At your soured expression, the blonde spoke up again, “What? I think she’s hot, too!”

Ross buried his face into his hands, groaning loudly. “Why does everyone keep fixating on the fact that she’s a lesbian? She didn’t know—how would I have known?”

“Didn’t she tell you that she just kinda found dicks gross at one point?” Chandler asked, lounging in an awkward position on the chair. Ross grumbled quietly under his breath, clearly not wanting to continue the conversation of his wife being gay. “Sometimes I wish I was a lesbian. Being bisexual is exhausting—do I want a man to sweep me off my feet or do I want a woman to sweep me off my feet? I’ll never know.”

Monica came back with the cup of coffee, handing it to Ross before turning to you excitedly. “Hey, Y/N. The waitress was asking about you.”

“Oh, yeah? What did she say?”

“She wanted to know if you were single or not.”

With bated breath, you snuck a glance to the counter, watching the pretty waitress take another customer’s order.

“And?”

“I told her you were single,” Monica replied. “Unless there’s something you’re not telling us…?”

“I’m single,” you reassured them. Ross made a strange noise that sounded like Chewbaca choking on a stick at the reminder of being single. “Ross, listen. It’s not your fault that your wife is queer—despite me telling you multiple times that she was—so let’s look at the bright side here. She’s not leaving you because of you. It’s the literal definition of it’s not you, it’s me.”

With a frown, Ross pried his fingers away from his still-damp face. “Yeah, I guess…”

Joey clapped his hands together, bringing everyone’s attention to him. “Alright, Ross, look. You’re feelin’ a lot of pain right now. You’re hurting. Can I tell you what the answer is?”

Ross nodded, apprehensive.

“Strip joints!”

The rest of you groaned. 

Joey shrugged, genuinely confused as to why it wouldn’t be a good idea. “Come on, you’re single now! Gotta release those hormones somehow.”

“See, I don’t want to be single!” Ross exclaimed in exasperation. “I just wanna be married again.”

As if on cue, a woman ran into the cafe, wearing a rather large white wedding dress. She was soaked and breathless, and her dripping brown hair was a mess, and the white fabric was streaked with dirt and mud and city street gunk.

All of you blinked in surprise. 

Chandler gestured to the door in a pleading manner. “And I just want a million dollars!”

“A million dollars really isn’t all that much—ask for a hundred million,” you told him. 

“A billion dollars!” he shouted.

“That’s too much. Nobody should have a billion dollars.”

“A trillion dollars!” he yelled again, ignoring you completely.

You rolled your eyes, before turning your gaze back to the lost woman in a wedding dress.

Concerned, Monica stood up, expression twisted into one of part-disbelief and part-recognition. 

“Rachel?” she asked as she approached the woman. 

“Oh, my God, Monica, thank goodness!” She threw her arms around a stricken Monica, the white fabrics of her wedding dress just about slapping her in the face. She spoke quickly, voice crackling with emotion. “I went to your apartment and some guy with a big hammer said you might be here, and you are! Gosh, I’m just so happy to see you!”

The rest of the group watched the two of them with evident confusion, and Monica led Rachel to the couch. “Oh, everybody, this is Rachel, another Lincoln High survivor. Rachel, this is everybody—that’s Chandler, Phoebe, Joey, Y/N… you remember my brother Ross, don’t you?”

“Sure!” Rachel smiled brightly, strangely cheerful for someone in a ruined, soaking wedding dress.

To make space for her and her rather spacious dress, you got up from the large couch and moved to Joey, bumping his hip playfully to get him to scooch aside on his chair so you could sit beside him. The two of you fought over space for a bit before he relented, grabbing your legs and swinging them over his thighs. You sent him a smug grin as you leaned back comfortably and Joey only stuck his tongue out at you childishly.

“So, uh, are you going to tell us now or are we waiting for four wet bridesmaids, too?” Monica queried. 

“Wouldn’t be so bad, huh?” Joey whispered into your ear, and you jabbed an elbow into his side to shut him up.

“Oh, God,” Rachel started, gesturing emphatically with her hands. It didn’t slip your notice when Ross sat up straight, watching the new woman with wide eyes. “It started about half an hour before the wedding. I was in this room where we were keeping all these presents and I was looking at this gravy boat! This really gorgeous Limoges gravy boat, you see. Which led me to realize that… I was more turned on looking at this gravy boat than by Barry! And I got really freaked out, because how could I get married to someone I think is less attractive than a gravy boat? And I just kinda stare at him and I realize that he looks just like Mr. Potato Head. You know, I always thought he looked familiar but…” she trailed off, looking ready to burst into tears. “Anyway, I just had to get out of there—and I didn’t know anywhere else to go. I know you and I have drifted apart but you’re the only person I know who lived in the city.”

Pursing her lips, Monica eyed Rachel quizzically. “... Who wasn’t invited to the wedding.”

Rachel grimaced. “I was kinda hoping that wouldn’t be an issue.”

You stepped into Monica’s apartment, waving hello to the group of friends gathered on her couch.

“Hey guys,” you greeted, plopping down next to Rachel, still in her wedding dress. “Sorry I had to duck out at the cafe—work called. What’d I miss?”

“Rachel’s staying at Monica’s place now,” replied Phoebe. “I sang her a song to cheer her up!”

From behind the sofa, Joey curled an arm around you, and his other went over Rachel’s shoulders. “Hey, Rach, if you ever need a place to stay—Chandler and I live right across the hall. And Chandler’s away a lot.”

“Can you stop hitting on her?” you hissed, swatting his hand away. “God, Joey, it’s her wedding day!”

“Hey, don’t be jealous. I offered you the same when I first met you!” 

“Jo, honey, I had my own apartment then, and I still have my own apartment now.”

The man shrugged, pressing a quick, chaste kiss to the side of your head. “The offer still stands, sweetheart.”

Rachel raised her eyebrows, gesturing between the two of you. “So are you two… like…?”

“Oh, no!” you exclaimed, slapping a hand over Joey’s mouth to make sure he didn’t say something stupid. “He’s just flirty with everyone.”

Joey’s tongue darted out to lick across your palm and you quickly retracted your hand with an exclamation of disgust, wiping it over his jacket before shoving him. “You’re so gross.”

He trotted away to Chandler in the kitchen before you could hit him again, grinning like a fool.

Just then, the doorbell rang. Chandler peered through the peeping hole, and gasped in an overexaggerated manner.

“It’s Paul the wine guy!”

Phoebe tilted her head. “Monica, is your ‘guy from work’ date Paul the wine guy?”

With a smile, Ross placed a hand on his sister’s arm. “Oh my God, he finally asked you out on a date?”

“Y-Yeah, I was supposed to go out with him for lunch but…” Monica looked at Rachel on the sofa. “Rach, wait, I can cancel!”

“Oh, please, no, you should go, Monica! I’ll be fine!” the brunette assured her. 

“Do you want me to stay, Ross? Will you be okay?” 

Ross looked torn, but you sent him a nasty glare that clearly meant—stop being a whiny bitch baby and let your sister go. He straightened himself, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Yes, of course. You should go.”

Monica skipped to the door with a bright smile, slowly opening it to reveal Paul on the other side with—what do you know, a wine bottle. You pressed a fist to your lips to hide your laugh with a cough.

The man was quite the looker, and you had to roll your eyes to the ceiling when Phoebe started giggling with Monica like schoolgirls. As Monica said her goodbyes and strode out the door with Paul, Rachel and Ross had moved to the kitchen, where he began asking Rachel what her plans were for the night.

“Well, if you’re feeling lonely, you can always come to my place—Chandler and Joey are helping me put together some new furniture.”

Chandler held up a sloshing glass of orange juice he fished from the fridge. “It’s gonna be a blast! I just can’t wait to hit nails with a hammer like a real man!” he said, practically dripping with sarcasm.

“Oh,” said Rachel as she got up. “I’m flattered, really, but I think I just want to unwind here for tonight. It’s been a long day.” She excused herself, heading to the bathroom. 

Though Ross looked a little dejected, Joey and Chandler shrugged it off easily. “Hey, Phoebe, you wanna help out?”

The blonde pursed her lips in thought. “Mm, I wish I could, but I don’t want to.” 

You snorted in amusement, slinging an arm around her.

“What about you, Y/N?” asked Ross. “Could really use the company right now.”

“Oh, sorry, Ross, I can’t,” you winced. “I’ve got to run some calculations for work before tomorrow. I’ve got a presentation first thing on Monday. But call me if you need help, okay?” 

Apologetically, you leaned up to press a kiss to his cheek. 

“Bye, guys. Tell Rachel it was nice meeting her for me, will you? I should get going now.”

“What, and I don’t get a goodbye kiss?” Joey asked, stretching his arms out with an exaggerated pout. 

With a huff, you reluctantly gave him a hug, before swiftly pecking his cheek. “See you guys later, alright? You want a kiss too, Chandler?” 

“Would be nice,” he replied, scuffing the floor with the heel of his shoe. “I’m touch starved.”

“We know,” the four of you replied in tandem, before bursting into laughter.

You leaned over to kiss Chandler’s cheek too, and then Phoebe’s for good measure, before waving one last time and sliding out the door.

It wasn’t even two hours later when you got a call, with Ross yelling something about how he couldn’t feel his legs and how his life was crumbling apart because Chandler hammered a screw into his bookshelf instead of a nail. Joey was in the background moaning about how hungry he was, and Chandler was screaming at Ross to calm down, which obviously made Ross even more upset.

So there you were, standing outside of Ross’ door with two boxes of pizza and sleepy eyes. You passed out on top of your work an hour through, the ringing from Ross’ call being what shocked you awake. 

As soon as the door swung open, Ross immediately enveloped you in a hug, speaking so quickly that it all went in one ear and out the other. Something about his lesbian wife, you supposed. You patted his back lethargically. 

Joey came forward to take the pizzas off of you, somehow already managing to stuff half a slice into his face with one bite. “You’re a lifesaver, Y/N. I could kiss you right now.”

You wrinkled your nose. “Please don’t.”

Littered around Ross’ relatively empty apartment was a bunch of loose piles of wood and metal poles and silver nails and screws haphazardly strewn all over the floor. 

“You guys are a mess.”

For the rest of the time, the three men ate as they watched you tiredly read over the manuals, before slowly but accurately assembling together the furniture. They all clapped once you finally put together the bookshelf—amazed at the fact that it didn’t topple to the ground as soon as you put one book on top, as it did when they tried. 

“You’re good with your hands,” Joey commented slyly. “Wonder what else they’re good at.”

“I’ve been told I’m good at punching people,” you replied dryly, sitting on a single stool and leaning against Joey for support, seeing as Ross didn’t have a couch anymore. You closed your eyes sleepily, and he placed an arm around you. Quietly, you mumbled out, “If I fall asleep, just tell Ross it’s not because I hate him, okay? I have a feeling just about anything would set him off tonight.”

“What if there’s only one person for everybody, you know?” Ross blubbered to Chandler from across the room, proving your point exactly. “What if you just get one chance—and that’s it?”

Pulling a sour expression, Joey cocked his head as he said, “What the hell are you talking about, Ross? One person? That’s so… limiting. It’s like saying there’s only one ice cream flavor you like. Let me tell you something, Ross, there’s tons of ice cream flavors out there. There’s rocky road, and cookie dough, and Bing cherry vanilla! You can get ‘em with jimmies, or nuts, or whipped cream, if you know what I’m saying.” He winked down at you and you pinched his side. “Personally, I think I’m a mint chocolate chip. Chandler—you’re a raspberry sorbet. Y/N, I think you’d be somethin’ like blueberry cheesecake. And Ross… you’re a… vanilla. With nuts, if we’re going wild with it.”

Mildly offended that Joey called him vanilla, Ross opened his mouth to retort something, but Chandler beat him to it.

“You think I’m raspberry sorbet?”

Joey waved the both of them away. “Anyways, the point is, this is the best thing that’s ever happened to you! You got married when you were like, what? Eight? Welcome back to the world—grab a spoon!”

“Though, your options are a bit more limited seeing as you’re the only straight one in this room,” you chimed, lifting your head from Joey’s side with a sleepy grin. Ross shot you a dirty look. 

“Honestly, I don’t know if I’m horny or hungry.”

“Ugh, you’re gross,” you complained, letting your eyes slip back shut. 

Groaning in disgust, Chandler backed away. “Stay out of my freezer.”

 Ross sighed heavily, sliding down the wall and slumping against it as if he were a ragdoll. There was a beer can in his hand, one that he claimed was Carol’s favorite drink, and he took a long swig. 

“Grab a spoon, pfft,” Ross mocked. “Do you know how long it’s been since I grabbed a spoon? You know, even if I could get it together to ask a woman out, who’d I ask?”

Exhaling softly, you moved away from Joey (much to his dismay, he was just getting warm with you cozying up to his side), and sat down beside Ross.

“Hey, dude,” you said, nudging his arm. “It’s okay if you haven’t grabbed a spoon in a while. Grabbing spoons as quickly as you can won’t instantly make things better. Things like this take time—you don’t have to rush into anything. Whatever happens, happens man. You’ll be okay. I mean, it’s not like either of you did anything wrong. It’s just life, you know?”

Tears pricked the corners of Ross’ eyes. He ducked his head so you wouldn’t see, but you knew they were there nonetheless.

“Thanks, Y/N,” he mumbled, sniffling. Pursing your lips, you roped him into an embrace.

“Well, isn’t that nice?” Chandler said, biting down on a slice of pizza. He turned to Joey again with a furrowed brow. “Now back to the things that are actually important. Why on earth do you think I’m raspberry sorbet?”

The next morning, you found yourself having breakfast at Monica’s place, sitting between Chandler and Joey, who had just dumped the coffee Rachel made for them into your cup of tea while her back was turned. 

You kicked both of them underneath the table, but smiled sweetly when Rachel came back, surprised at how quickly the two boys had downed their coffee.

“Would you like some?” Rachel asked. “It’s my first time making it!”

“No!” you blurted out, embarrassingly quick. “Sorry, I’m just—trying to cut back on caffeine.”

“Suit yourself,” she replied, before leaning back against the sink. “I do have a question for you guys though—do you, uhm… all have jobs?”

Monica cocked her head, biting into her buttered toast. “Yeah, we all have jobs. See, that’s how we buy things.”

“Ugh, capitalism,” you muttered under your breath, taking a sip of your mug before realizing that it was full of the bitter coffee that Rachel made, and tried to discreetly spit it back out. Joey noticed however, and patted your back sympathetically.

“You and your fancy words, Y/N,” he said, as if you were just making the word up.

Rachel pulled the dark bathrobe tighter around her figure. “What do all of you do?”

“Well, you know I’m a chef,” said Monica. “Y/N is a physicist, Joey is an actor, and Chandler… uhm… Chandler plays with numbers and data and all that.”

“Wow! Would I have seen you in anything?” she asked Joey.

“Eh, mostly regional work—”

“He was in that Wee One’s production of Pinocchio,” you put in, earning yourself a pinch to the thigh. You grinned at him cheekily.

Chandler barked out a laugh, mimicking the line of, “Look Geppeto, I’m a real live boy!”

“I’m not taking this abuse,” said Joey, standing up to head to the door.

The two of you apologized quietly, before Chandler abruptly stood up and pranced out the door singing, “Once I was a wooden boy, a little wooden boy!”

Joey followed him back to their apartment, yelling out obscenities along the way.

You rolled your eyes. “Love to talk more, ladies, but I’ve gotta head to work.”

“What exactly do you do, though?” Rachel asked. It wasn’t often that you saw someone genuinely curious about your work, other than Ross. 

“I specialize in quantum physics—I do quite a bit of research for my field, and propose theories, and sometimes I lecture students working on their doctorate degrees. In fact, that was how I met Ross—we were both teaching at the same university for a couple months and became friends, and through him, I met the rest of the group.”

Rachel blinked at you with amazement. “That sounds amazing! Do you know how I could get one of those?”

“Er… what?”

“You know. A job. Like the rest of you have.”

Sending Monica a confused glance, you said, “Rachel, have you never had a job before?”

“Well,” she taps her finger against her lips, “I’ve babysat for cash before. Does that count?”

“Oh, honey,” simpered Monica from beside Rachel. “Good luck finding one. I’m sure there’s plenty of restaurants or cafes looking to hire a waitress.”

The memory of the waitress from yesterday flashed into your mind—with her pretty eyes and sweet smile… 

You shook your head, before checking the time. You blanched upon seeing that you were nearly late for your presentation. “Gosh, I gotta run. See you guys later!”

That night, the entire friend group sat around Rachel as she hovered over all the credit cards she had that were paid by her father.

“Come on, give her a break. It’s hard to live on your own for the first time,” Phoebe said.

Rachel frowned at the nice words, as if she was going to cry. “Oh, thank you, Pheebs.”

“Yeah, I remember I was fourteen and my mom had just killed herself and my stepdad was in prison! I didn’t know anybody, so I ended up living with this albino guy who was cleaning windshields outside Port Authority. And then, heh, what do you know, he killed himself, too. Then I found aromatherapy! So believe me, I know exactly how you feel.” The blonde smiled sweetly, and you couldn’t help but give her a one-armed hug from the side.

“Here,” Monica said, handing Rachel a pair of large orange scissors. “Just cut ‘em. You’ll feel so much better afterwards.”

The group began chanting ‘cut, cut, cut!’ as if it were some sort of cult ritual. Finally, Rachel straightened herself and cut through each of the cards, lips puckered in a pout.

“Welcome to the real world,” said Chandler.

“It sucks,” you chimed.

“You’re gonna love it!” exclaimed Monica.

The waitress was staring at you again. You could feel her eyes practically boring holes into the back of your neck. Apprehensively, you turned ever so slightly to meet her gaze, but she quickly pretended to be busy with wiping down the counters.

Joey snapped his fingers in front of your face, bringing your attention back to him.

“Are you even listening?” he asked. 

“No,” you replied easily, which made him snort out a laugh.

Monica gestured wildly as she explained again to the confused men. “It’s just, for us, kissing is as important as any part of it.”

“Yeah, right,” Joey scoffed. Once he realized that the three women were dead serious, he furrowed his brows. “Wait, you’re not pulling my leg?”

Nodding emphatically, Rachel said, “Everything you need to know is in that first kiss!”

With a shrug, Chandler put forth, “Yeah, I think for us, kissing is more like an opening act. It’s like the stand-up comedian you have to sit through before Pink Floyd comes out.”

Ross murmured his agreement rather sheepishly. “Right, and it’s not like we don’t like the comedian, it’s just that… that’s not why we bought the ticket.” 

“What about you, Y/N?” asked Phoebe. “Do you prefer the comedian or… Pink Floyd?”

With a hum, you traced the rim of your teacup with your pointer finger before sighing. “I don’t really have a concrete answer for that, honestly. Both the comedian and the actual show are great, but—sometimes I don’t even want the comedian at all, and sometimes I don’t want the show at all. It depends on the person and the situation.” A bit quieter, you tacked on, “Sometimes the longer the comedian drags on, the better the show’ll be after. And sometimes the comedian and the show perform at the same time—you guys gotta think outside the box, here.”

The rest of the group blinked at you owlishly. 

With a smile, Rachel whooped. “Y/N, you little devil! I didn’t know you were into foreplay! But you know what, you’re right. Maybe the comedian should never leave the stage!”

Heat flushed your cheeks at Rachel’s loud words. You wondered if the waitress could hear your conversation. “Woah, I never said that—”

“I’m confused,” Joey interjected. “Are we still talking about sex?”

You watched in amusement as Chandler and Joey began digging into Monica’s lasagne in search of Rachel’s lost wedding ring. A bit of sauce smeared over Joey’s cheek and you reached over to wipe it away with your thumb, muttering out how ridiculous they looked nearly elbow-deep in cheese and pasta.

There was a knock at the door, and when Monica swung it open, you were greeted with a forlorn Ross. Honestly, when wasn’t he forlorn these days?

“Hi,” he said, looking like he wanted a hole to open up in the ground and swallow him whole.

“Why the long face?” you asked, moving away from the pair rifling through the lasagna to the Geller siblings by the door. 

Ross’ voice cracked a little as he replied, “Carol’s pregnant.”

“I found it!” Phoebe exclaimed from behind you, which was funny because she didn’t have any lasagna on her hands while the other two boys held handfuls of the pasta. She held the ring up, covered in marinara sauce and small chunks of beef, holding it out to Rachel.

Monica’s face dropped in shock. “Wh-Wha—? Wh… What?” 

“Yeah. Do that for another two hours, and you might be where I am right now,” Ross said, walking into the apartment. 

Placing a hand on his shoulder, you led him to the couch for him to take a seat. “How do you fit into this whole thing?”

“Carol says she and Susan want me to be involved, but if I’m not comfortable with it—then I don’t have to be. Basically, it’s totally up to me.”

Phoebe called out from the sink as she washed her hands, “She’s so great! I miss her.”

They half-heartedly glared at her, but you stifled a laugh. 

“What does she mean by involved?” asked Monica.

“Presumably, the biggest part of your job is done!” Chandler added, which earned him a light punch to the shoulder.

Scratching his head, Ross loosened his tie, feeling like he was being suffocated. “They want me to go down to this sonogram thing with them tomorrow. I have no idea if I’m going or not. No matter what I do, though… I’m still going to be a father.”

Clattering from the kitchen made the group turn their heads to see Joey practically attacking the lasagna with a spoon that was far too big, shoveling the pasta into his mouth. At the incredulous stares, Joey flinched defensively. “What? This is still ruined, right?”

Ross stood beside the television as he showed everybody the sonogram of the baby, a smile etched permanently across his face. “Isn’t that just amazing?”

You were just about to chime in about how big they already look, but Joey beat you to it by asking, “What the hell am I supposed to be looking at? Is that its foot or its head?”

“If you tilt your head to the left and relax your eyes, it kinda looks like an old potato,” Phoebe said as she squinted in concentration at the screen.

Ross eyed her warily. “Then don’t do that.”

From beside you, Monica started tearing up, and you could hear her little sniffles. Man, do the Gellers cry a lot. You wrapped an arm around her waist and she leaned her head onto your shoulder as the two of you watched the sonogram. 

“How’d your date go, Pheebs?” you asked the blonde as she walked into Central Perk. 

She made a noise of discontent, tugging her light blue coat off. “Not so good. He walked me to the subway and said, ‘we should do this again’.”

The rest of the group grimaced, saved for Rachel, who appeared confused.

“What? He said they should do it again—isn’t that good?”

“Uh, no,” Monica interjected, raising a finger. “Loosely translated, ‘we should do this again’ means ‘you will never see me naked’!”

Rachel reared back. “Since when?” 

“Since always!” said Joey. “It’s, like, dating language. How ‘it’s not you’ always means ‘it is you’.”

Chandler nodded. “Or ‘you’re such a nice guy’ means ‘I’m going to be dating leather-wearing alcoholics and complaining about them to you’! Not speaking from personal experience or anything.”

“Or how ‘I think we should see other people’ means ‘hah! I already am!’” Phoebe added.

“And everybody just knows this? Y/N, you’re the smart one. Is this true?”

You shrugged a shoulder. “Well, I’d say it’s less about the phrase itself and more about how people use it nowadays. Nobody says ‘you’re such a nice guy’ without some sort of intention of friendzoning them, right?” 

Rachel still appeared miffed, so Joey piped up, “Yeah, it cushions the blow.”

“Like when you’re a kid and your parents put your old dog to sleep and they tell you it went off to live on some farm,” Chandler explained.

From opposite you, Ross’ eyes lit up. “That’s funny, because our parents actually did send our dog off to live on a farm!”

The rest of the group stared at him. 

“Uh, Ross—?” Monica started.

“Hello? The Milner’s farm in Connecticut? You don’t remember that? The Milners, they had this unbelievable farm and they had horses and rabbits that he could chase and…” The words died on his tongue as it slowly began to dawn upon him. “Oh, my God, Chi-Chi!”

The couch sank beneath your weight as you sat down, Joey’s script in hand.

“How could you do this to me, Tom? I thought we were best friends,” you read off the paper, trying your best not to laugh at Joey’s concentrated expression.

Joey was walking around with his hands perched on his hips, uttering the next line, “I was never only your friend. I loved you.”

The two of you looked at each other for a moment, before you allowed a smile to break through.

“That was great, Jo!”

“Yeah?” He cuffed you on the shoulder with a genuine grin. “Let’s keep going.”

It was then that Chandler walked out from his room, waving hello to you. “What’re you two doing?”

“Practicing,” Joey replied. “Got a big audition coming up.”

Clearing your throat, you read the next line, standing up so you’d be able to face Joey. “What do you expect me to say, Tom?”

Joey shook his head, shoulders slumping. You couldn’t help but be impressed at how quickly he could fall into character. “Tell me you love me back.”

“I…” You stared at him, watching the way his gaze would dart from your eyes to your lips, and back up again. Man, he was a great actor. “I can’t tell you that.”

He sighed, resigned. “Then I’m going out for a smoke.”

Brandishing a cigarette from his pocket, he used a lighter to set off the end, before inhaling sharply. Not a second later, he was coughing with a grimace plastered across his face. “Damn it! How am I ever going to get the part if I don’t know how to smoke properly? This tastes awful.”

“Relax your hand,” Chandler chimed, sitting down on the couch. “Let your wrist go. No, wait, not so much. Alright, good. Now try taking a puff.”

Inhaling softly this time, Joey looked to the side, white plumes falling from the edges of his lips. He coughed once more. “Nope, no. I hate this!”

“Okay, no, give it to me.”

“I’m not giving you a cigarette!” Joey protested, pulling his arm away.

“No, it’s fine. You wanna get this part or not?”

You sat back down, grinning. “If it’s any motivation, I think smoking is hot. I don’t find smokers hot because, you know—lung cancer and everything—but the act of smoking? That’s hot.”

Joey narrowed his eyes at you, before reluctantly handing Chandler the cigarette.

“Alright, don’t think of it as a cigarette. Think of it as the thing that has been missing from your hand. When you’re holding it, you feel right. You feel complete.” Slowly, he brought it up to his mouth to take a puff, and as soon as his lips touched the end, he let out a loud groan as he exhaled. “Oh, my God.”

You had to wrestle him to take the cigarette away before he could breathe in any more. 

Later that night, you were back at Central Perk, sitting by Monica, who had her hand extended out in front of her. “They say that it’s from the tip of a guy’s thumb to the tip of his index finger.”

The three men, Ross, Chandler, and Joey, began extending their own hands, looking at the distance with disdain. 

You chortled a laugh when Ross asked if he could use either thumb.

Rachel strode up to the couches with a tray full of drinks. “Alright, don’t tell me! Decaf cappuccino for Joey, black coffee for Ross, latte for Chandler, peppermint mocha for Y/N, and an iced tea for Monica!”

She handed out each drink with a proud grin, and none of you had the heart to tell her that she had gotten every drink mixed up—save for yours. You began nursing your mocha with a small grin to her.

“I’m getting pretty good at this!” she exclaimed. God, she was so cute, you thought fondly as she walked away to take another customer’s order.

When her back was turned, the drinks were finally switched around, and you watched in amusement as they hurriedly exchanged mugs. It was then that Phoebe walked in, making incoherent noises and hands fluttering about as she muttered.

“You okay, Phoebe?” asked Joey. 

She waved him away. “Yeah, no, it’s not even worth—okay, I guess I’ll tell you guys about it. It’s my bank!”

Monica leaned forward. “What did they do to you?”

“I open up my mail and look at my monthly statement, and there’s five hundred extra dollars in my account!”

“Congrats!” you exclaimed just as Chandler sarcastically gasped out, “Satan’s minions at work again!”

“Now I have to go down there and deal with them,” Phoebe moped.

“What’re you talkin’ about?” crowed Joey. “Keep it!”

Vehemently, Phoebe shook her head. “No, it’s not mine! I didn’t earn it! If I kept it, it’d be like stealing!”

Rachel came back around with a cup of coffee, leaning over to tell Phoebe, “Yeah, but if you spent it, it’d be like shopping!” 

“Okay, but I’d never be able to enjoy it, you know? It’d be like this giant karmic debt!” she cried out, clearly frustrated with the entire ordeal. 

You would’ve replied with something to comfort her, but the thought was torn from you when you noticed Chandler awkwardly bent over the couch, as if trying to hide something.

“Dude, what are you doing?” you asked, peering over to look. “Damn it, Chandler!” you yelled, grabbing him by the belt and hauling him upright. 

With a roll of his eyes, he sat up, white smoke falling from his mouth as he blew out, defeated.

“Gross!” Monica yelled.

“You’ve been so good for three years, I can’t believe you!” said Phoebe. 

“And this,” Chandler held up the cigarette, “is my reward!”

Shaking his head, Ross held a hand out. “Hold on a second, remember what happened the last time you quit?”

“Okay, so this time I won’t quit! If anything, you should be angry at Joey and Y/N, they were smoking it all up in our apartment this morning!”

The two of you gasped. “No, we weren’t! I hate smoking!” Joey yelled. “Y/N was the one that said smoking was hot!”

You smacked his arm. “The act of it is, actual smokers aren’t hot! Don’t you remember what I said about lung cancer? Chandler, don’t pin the blame on us, you chose to smoke!”

Exasperated, Chandler groaned. “Fine. I’m putting it out.” He threw the cigarette into Phoebe’s coffee, much to her dismay. 

“Alright,” Monica said, inching away from the group. “I gotta change—I’ve got a date soon.” You briefly remembered her mentioning that things hadn’t gone so well with Paul, so she was exploring the dating pool once again.

“Is this Alan again?” Rachel asked excitedly. “How’s it going?”

A smile spread across Monica’s features. “It’s going good! He’s nice.” 

“So when do we get to meet the guy?” asked Joey.

“Hm…” Monica tapped a finger against her lips. “Never. See you guys!”

“Come on!” the group exclaimed after her. 

“No!” she said. “Not after what happened with Steve!”

Snorting, Chandler shook his head. “What are you talking about? We loved Shteve. Shteve wash shexy!”

The rest of the group hid their laughter behind cups of coffee. 

“Look, I don’t even know how I feel about him yet. Just give me a chance to figure it out.”

“Then we can meet him?” asked Rachel, hopeful.

Monica grinned. “Nope! Bye, guys!” With that, she skipped out of the cafe. 

You drank the rest of your mocha, placing the mug onto the table and leaving a large tip for Rachel beneath the cup—you were honestly quite flattered that out of all the orders, she had gotten yours right. 

“I better get going, too.”

“What?” asked Joey. “Where are you going?”

“Uh…” You scratched the back of your neck. “Work.”

Ross arched a brow. “I thought you said you had the day off today. What’s going on?”

“Oh, my God!” Phoebe exclaimed. “You’re seeing someone!”

The group burst out into a dozen questions at once and you held your hands up. “Woah, woah! I’m not seeing someone, I just—” 

“Is it that waitress that gave you her number?” Joey interrupted, a bit less enthusiastic than everybody else. 

Heat crawled up your neck and festered into your face. “Yeah, but it’s not a date,” you sighed. “It’s just a casual meet up.”

“So… sex,” Chandler deadpanned.

You rolled your eyes. “Yes, sex. Don’t be such a child about it.”

“How long have you been doing this?” Rachel gasped, resting a hand on your arm. “And why didn’t you tell me?” she asked, a little whiny. 

“Around, uh, a week, I think? And I didn’t tell you because it just feels… I don’t know, embarrassing?”

“Oh, honey, you don’t have to be embarrassed around us!”

Joey blanched. “A week? How many times have you guys done it?”

“Oh, God, Joey, I’m not going to tell you about my sex life. I’m running late already—I’ll see you guys later!”

With that, you practically dashed out of the cafe, heart beating irregularly quickly and cheeks set aflame.

“Do you all promise?” 

Ross rolled his eyes. “Yes, Mon, we promise we’ll be good.”

You nodded with a sweet smile in hopes of quelling her growing anxiety of letting her closest friends meet a guy she was dating. 

Not a second later, Phoebe stormed into Monica’s apartment, sitting down right beside you and showing you a letter from her bank. 

“Dear Ms. Buffay, thank you for calling attention to our error. We have credited your account five hundred dollars. We’re sorry for the inconvenience, and hope you’ll accept this football phone as our free gift.” She pulled out a large brown phone in the shape of, what do you know, a football, looking so cross you could’ve sworn steam was coming out of her ears. “Can you believe this? Now I have a thousand dollars and a football phone!”

Blinking in astonishment, Rachel snatched the letter from you, exclaiming, “What bank is this?”

The door rang, cutting any further questions about Phoebe’s strange bank off. 

“He’s here!” Rachel exclaimed, throwing the letter away somewhere behind her, clapping her hands excitedly.

Before Monica opened the door, she clasped her hands together and addressed the entire group. “Please be good. Please? Remember how much you like me and try not to make fun of him too much.”

“So?” Monica started, anxiously brushing dark strands of hair away from her face. “Let the Alan-bashing begin. Who’s gonna take the first shot?”

The group awkwardly glanced at each other, strangely silent. 

If you had to admit, you rather liked Alan. He was funny, charming, and had real pretty eyes.

“I’ll go,” said Ross. “Let’s start with the way he kept… ugh, no, I’m sorry, I can’t. Can’t do it! We loved him.”

The rest of them chimed in their agreement enthusiastically.

“Wait a minute, we’re talking about someone that I’m going out with?” Monica asked, incredulous.

“Know what was great? The way his smile was kind of crooked,” Joey sighed, dreamily looking off into space. 

With a scoff, you slapped his thigh. “Watch it, Joey. Wouldn’t want you catching feelings for Monica’s boyfriend here.”

“Jealous, much? Want me all to yourself?” he asked flirtatiously, leaning down closer to you. You wrinkled your nose and shoved him away.

The rest of the group began chattering about Alan again, and how he did the best impression of David Hasselhoff.

You turned back to Joey. “Both of us know you can’t stick to one person, Jo.” Your words were meant to be teasing and light-hearted, but you couldn’t help but notice the way Joey’s face fell just a bit at your words.

“I can stick to you,” he said, uncharacteristically softly, fingers threading between yours. “You’re a pretty sticky person, you know?”

“Har, har, har. That’s funny, Joey,” you crooned sarcastically. “Also really gross. Don’t call me sticky ever again.”

Joey smiled at you, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. You decided not to say anything about it, and turned your attention back to the group and listened to them fawn over Alan.

Back at Central Perk, you had just come out of the bathroom in time to hear the gang berating Chandler for smoking again, and you sat down between Ross and Joey on the large couch. 

“This is so unfair,” Chandler barked, blowing out white plumes of smoke. “So I have a flaw—big fucking deal! Like Joey’s constant knuckle-cracking isn’t annoying? Or Ross, with his over-pronouncing every goddamn word! And Monica, with that snort when she laughs! Or when Y/N refuses to get Chinese takeout because they use styrofoam containers and they hate the sound of styrofoam! I haven’t had Chinese takeout in months! I accept all of those flaws, why can’t you accept me for this?”

The entire group pursed their lips and dejectedly hung their heads in silence.

“You can just order Chinese takeout on your own,” you grumbled under your breath. “You don’t always have to have me there.”

“Yeah, well, then I’d feel bad!” replied Chandler, crossing his arms like a child. “I’d be chewing on my pork dumplings and thinking—man, I betrayed one of my closest friends for this.”

“Does the knuckle cracking bother everybody, or just him?” asked Joey, hands glued firmly to his sides, as if he had to consciously remind himself not to crack them. 

Placing a hand on his shoulder, you faked a look of reassurance, before deadpanning, “We could live without it, Jo.”

“Is it just a little annoying? Or is it like when Phoebe chews her hair?”

As if on cue, Phoebe spat out locks of blonde that she was working between her teeth. You coughed to hide your growing smile. 

“Don’t listen to him, Pheebs, alright? I think it’s endearing,” said Ross.

Joey frowned, then spoke again, over-enunciating each word. “Oh, you do, do you?”

Monica snort-laughed, which made Chandler gesture erratically towards her. 

“There’s nothing wrong with speaking correctly!” Ross defended.

“Indeed, there isn’t!” Rachel proudly gesticulated, also poking fun at Ross with overstretched syllables. At Ross’ withering glare, she squeaked, “I should really get back to work!” 

“Otherwise, someone might get what they actually ordered,” Phoebe muttered quietly, but not quiet enough for Rachel not to hear.

The brunette’s jaw dropped. “Oh, so the hair comes out and the gloves come on!”

The entire group burst into a raucous argument, and you found yourself somehow defending and protesting against both Phoebe and Joey at the same time. From the corner of your eye, you could see Chandler get up and walk away with a skip in his step, and a lit cigarette in hand.

It was a little past two in the morning. You had barely thrown anything on except for a worn black hoodie and a pair of jeans that had holes in the pockets. But you just needed to leave—it felt like you couldn’t breathe in your own apartment.

A part of you considered going to Monica’s. 

But for some reason unbeknownst to you, you found yourself in front of Joey’s bedroom, having gotten through their front door with an emergency spare key they had given you. This wasn’t really an emergency, but you’ve used it for lesser reasons.

Swallowing down the lump in your throat, you knocked on the door.

A couple seconds later, a groggy Joey swung it open, dark hair messily strewn over his head. He was rubbing his fists into his eyes, muffling a yawn as he said, “Oh, hi, Y/N. You missed a lot this afternoon—Chandler quit smoking, Phoebe found a thumb in a can of soda and got seven thousand bucks for it, Monica broke up with Alan and I’m obviously devastated about it but—”

He immediately stopped in his brief recap of the day when he finally looked at you properly, noticing the way your eyes were puffy and red, as if you’d been crying. There were dried tear tracks on your cheeks, barely visible beneath the dim moonlight streaming through the window across the room. 

“Hey, hey,” his hands were on your shoulders instantly, roping you closer to him in a warm embrace. You buried your head into his chest, lips trembling as you staved away the burning urge to sob right into him. “Are you okay? What’s going on?”

Gently, he led you into his room, sitting you down on his bed. 

“I don’t even know… it’s not that big of a deal, I just… felt so overwhelmed,” you croaked, pulling your knees up to your chest. 

“What happened?” he asked, sitting down beside you and slinging a protective arm over your back. 

“You remember that waitress that I had a thing with?”

Joey hummed.

“Well, she’s married. And she’s got a kid. I didn’t know, obviously. I just… I don’t know. She told me while we were messing around, like—how fucked up is that? I mean, it’s bad enough that you’re using me to cheat on someone that you’ve got a kid with, but it’s even worse to bring that up while we were… doing it, you know? I told her to leave and she begged me to hear her out. She wouldn’t go, and got angry at me for some fucking reason, so I told her I’d leave the apartment and if she wasn’t gone by the time I got back I’d call the cops on her. I know it wasn’t really my fault but—I still feel terrible about it. I don’t want to be the reason a family falls apart, Joey.” 

You were shaking against him, and a stray tear meandered down your cheek. 

There wasn’t really much Joey could say. He was never very good at comforting people.

He pressed a kiss to your cold forehead, brushing away haphazard strands of hair. 

“You wanna stay over?” he offered, patting his bed. “I can sleep on the couch.”

Wordlessly, you pulled back his comforter and laid down, exhausted beyond relief. 

Joey patted your back one more time for good measure, before getting up to head to the living room.

“No,” you mumbled, hand loosely wrapping around his wrist. “Please stay here with me.”

Hesitant, he asked, “You sure?”

Joey never got a response—you had already fallen asleep. With a shrug, he slid into the bed beside you, winding his arms over you and cradling you from behind. His nose pressed into your shoulder and he inhaled sharply, noting with pleasant surprise that you smelled like blueberries. 

“Good night, Y/N.”

You shifted in his hold so that your arm laid over his that was thrown over your waist. 

Joey fell into an easy, dreamless sleep in no less than a minute.

#joey tribbiani x reader #friends fanfiction #joey tribbiani fanfiction #joey tribbiani fluff #joey tribbiani angst #joey tribbiani smut #rachel green x reader #rachel green angst #rachel green fluff #rachel green smut #joey tribbiani imagines #joey tribbiani drabbles #rachel green imagines #rachel green drabbles #friends x reader #friends joey x reader #friends rachel x reader

[aangstycareberrr]

Partners

summary: college au / you and kenma get paired up for a project together and fun stuff happens

kenma x reader, ft. kuroo

part 2 part 3

a/n: first fic, kinda nervous teehee, feedback is appreciated. also this will be multiple parts sorry. also this is based on my own experience in a poli-sci class in which i wish i had a kenma lol

——————————————————

Intro to political science wasn’t your least favorite class. The professor was one of the good ones who made an effort to learn everyone’s name and keep the class engaging; it wasn’t too early so as to make you debate dropping it every single morning, nor was it too late that all you thought about was the day being over for the duration of it; it wasn’t your major but you still found it interesting and engaging; and the workload was relatively light for a poli-sci class. Despite all these great elements, there was one detail that put a damper on your enjoyment of the course, you were one of four girls in a class of 30. You originally thought it wouldn’t be so bad until you quickly came to the bitter realization that the men in this class had no interest in ever letting you or any of the other girls express your thoughts or participate in discussions; at least not without talking over you, and addressing you as if you were below them. It was exhausting.

So when the professor announces a group project for which he will be picking the partners, you silently cross your fingers and hope that you’ll be paired up with one of the other girls.

“Kozume Kenma and l/n y/n”

Upon hearing the announcement you let out a defeated sigh, quickly jotted some notes about the project down and went to talk to your partner. You realized that you didn’t recognize the name so he at least wasn’t one of the guys who made it a point to continuously disrespect you, but you still weren’t sure who he was. You looked around the room and spotted who you assumed was him. he was sitting in the far back and just like you, looking around, presumably trying to spot you, until you caught his eye. he’s cute. You gave a polite smile, he did the same and nodded, a silent agreement that you would talk about your plan for the project after class. did he really have to be cute. You were already feeling apprehensive about the prospect of having a partner who would treat you like you just learned how to read, this was an added level of stress that you didn’t need.

Class was over within a few minutes. As you gathered your stuff, you mentally prepared yourself for whatever this encounter could be like. You decided to be nice and keep your hopes up, despite the low chance of him actually being someone who deserved it, you didn’t want to go into this with a defeatist attitude. Kenma was already outside the classroom waiting for you when you walked out.

“hi” “hi, i’m y/n” “Kenma”

He had a gentle smile as he greeted you and you noticed him picking at the skin of his fingers a bit. he’s nervous too. Ironically, that calmed you down a bit. it was a bit awkward at first, as you worked out the details of when you would meet to work on the project and whatnot, but nowhere near as bad as you imagined. He was polite and let you finish every time you spoke. You knew it was the bare minimum but you were so beyond relieved.

You guys decided to meet the next day after classes at an on-campus coffee shop. You were a bit shocked that he suggested Thursday, since in your school, that’s kind of designated get-shitfaced-day (most people didn’t have classes on friday). Nevertheless you weren’t bothered, you weren’t going to many parties these days and would’ve otherwise stayed home to catch up on your favorite show at the moment. Thursday rolled around and as you started getting ready, you surprised yourself at how nervous you were for this. You realized halfway into picking your outfit that you were in date mode, you’d gone through three different options in search of that perfect “cute but mot trying too hard outfit” and you spent more than half an hour on your makeup. You felt silly but, god, he was really cute. For a moment you questioned if he really was all that cute or if you were just feeling the repercussions of not having hooked up in five months. you quickly brushed any unsavory thoughts aside once you realized it was about time to be heading out. You arrived a couple minutes early and texted him letting him know you arrived before ordering a latte for yourself. you checked your appearance on your phone camera and silently gave yourself a pat on the back, because you really did look so cute. After a bit, Kenma arrived. He wore a black t-shirt that was a bit oversized and gray cargo pants, his hair was in a loose low pony. he looked good. You waved at him so he knew where you were and he walked over to where you were sitting.

“hey”, you said, smiling up at him. He gave you a light smile right back as he sat down “hi”

“so we should get started, i was thinking we could do our presentation on The Prince by Machiavelli, i think there’s a lot of comparisons we could draw to the current western world”, you say trying your hardest to sound confident.

“I like that idea, i think that’d be really smart and the professor would probably really enjoy it.”,

“oh, thank you”, you say this a little surprised, although he had already proved himself to be nice, you were still half expecting him to ignore what you said, but he actually heard you out and called your idea smart.

“why are you thanking me?”

“just, you know, for not immediately shooting me down.”

“of course”, he opens his mouth and closes it a few times, looking like he wanted to say something else, which he eventually does, “you’re the smartest person in that class, i think it’s ridiculous that those guys never let you finish talking, you’re the only one who ever says anything worth hearing.” he says all this with a neutral tone, while typing something on his laptop, as if he just said the most casual thing in the world. you stared at him for a bit, shocked that he actually noticed that, and relieved that it wasn’t just in your head. He meets your gaze but quickly looks down, looking ashamed.

“honestly, i’m… a little embarrassed for just watching, someone should stick up for you and the rest of the girls, i’ve thought about it a bit, but i kinda have a fear of public speaking.”

he looks guilty but all you can think of is kissing him right then because he just looks so cute. you realize you’re staring and snap out of it once he meets your eyes again.

“it’s okay”, you reassure him with a smile, “it sucks but, saying something might just make it worse, besides i known they’re just insecure”

After that you start working on your presentation and everything goes smoothly. you and Kenma work together like a well oiled machine. He’s easy to talk to and work with, and you really feel like you guys are on the same wavelength with this project. Although he’s quiet, he’s actually very witty when he wants to be, and just the right amount of sarcastic, which makes him even more attractive. Within an hour you guys have gotten through way more than you thought you would’ve, so you decide to take a break. You get up to go to the bathroom and accidentally knock over your bag from where it was hanging on your seat, your switch flies out and almost collides fatally with the floor, when Kenma grabs it right at the last moment. If you weren’t overtaken with relief, you’d be turned on by his quick reflexes.

“oh my god thank you so much, that would’ve been so bad.”

“don’t worry about it”, he said while eyeing your switch, “what games do you play?”

“mostly stardew valley and animal crossing, i just finished undertale though and i think i’m gonna start it over and do genocide route”

“heh, good luck with that”, he says with an amused smile

“what’s that suppose to mean?”

“i’m just saying it took me a week to beat Sans, it’s tough.”

“oh and you think i can’t do it?”, you say playfully

“i didn’t say that”, he says while laughing the most beautiful laugh you’ve ever heard, and holding his hands up in defense.

you guys stare at each other while laughing, for a second, and you almost feel like you’re having a moment, like maybe he feels the same intimacy you feel in holding his stare, until…

“KENMA!”

you’re snapped out of your trance and turn to see a tall boy with messy black hair approaching your table.

“hey man”, says the tall guy,

“kuroo, hey”, kenma says quietly, he looks slightly annoyed.

“hey, i’m kuroo”, this time the greeting is directed at you

“hi, y/n”, you respond while feeling a little sad that the moment you shared with kenma had to be so fleeting.

“gotta say, i’ve been Kenma’s best friend for years and i think this is the first time i see him laughing so much in public, let alone with a pretty girl.”, he says teasingly, you look over at kenma to see his cheeks are red and he’s looking down, avoiding your gaze, he’s clearly embarrassed.

“kuroo”, says Kenma, sternly, silently asking him to stop.

“we’re working on a project together.”, you say trying to change the subject.

kuroo looks like he might say something else that will embarrass both you and kenma further, but he doesn’t, which you’re grateful for.

“well it was nice to meet you, y/n, hope to see you around. Kenma, i’ll see you tonight.”

as you wondered what tonight was, kenma responded, “i don’t know if i’m going”

“come on dude don’t bail on us again, everyone’s gonna be there it’ll be fun.”, kuroo tries to convince him

“i’ll think about it”, upon hearing this, you see kuroo looking like he’s mulling something over, something mischievous, suddenly he turns to you

“are you busy tonight?”, your eyes go wide and you’re not really sure what to say out of fear of agreeing to something you’ll regret. with your silence, kuroo continues, “our frat is having a party tonight, a ton of people on campus are going and i personally guarantee a good time”, kuroo finishes his pitch and you mentally debate what to say, a party doesn’t sound bad, it’s been a while since you’ve gone to one and it’d be nice to hang out with people, but you look over at Kenma and his face is unreadable. You question wether he would or wouldn’t want you to go, you don’t want to make him uncomfortable. You give a vague enough answer, “i’ll try to make it”

Kuroo looks pleased at that answer, “great i’ll see you both there.”, he looks sternly at Kenma who only shoots him a dirty look. kuroo walks away and suddenly the playful atmosphere you had with kenma is replaced with an awkward, tense one. You feel bad, like you accidentally overstepped into his world

“i’m sor-“ “im sorr-“, you both spoke at the same time and laughed. “you first”, you say.

“im sorry about kuroo, he’s annoying”, you laughed and brushed off his apology,

“not at all, but im sorry.”

“what? why are you sorry?“

“about the party, i know it might be uncomfortable to have your classmate there, i don’t want to impose myself in that part of your life.”

he stares at you confused for a moment, then laughs a little

“no, no, no, that’s not an issue at all don’t even think about it. go to the party, as long as it’s what you want and not just something Kuroo pressured you into.”

you smile in disbelief at him for a bit.

“okay, then i think i will go”

“okay, then i’ll see you later”

he’s smiling too. is he happy i’m going?

“i thought you said you weren’t sure if you were going”, you say teasingly

“if you’re going then i’ll definitely be there”

You slightly widen your eyes for a moment, taken aback that he would say something so direct, his face tells you he’s taken aback by what he said too.

“you know, to show you around and stuff”, he backpedals

“i’ll see you later, kenma”, you can barely contain your smile and you want to walk away before he sees you blush. You think he has to like you at least a little bit, there’s no way you’re reading these signs so wrong.

You head to your apartment, with a bounce in your step, exited to get ready for this party.

#haikyuu!! #kenma fluff #hq kenma #kenma #kozume kenma #kenma x you #kozume kenma x reader #kenma x reader #college au #haikyu x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu au #kenma imagine #hq #hq kuroo

[aliasnz]

hi sorry i just had to post some of this le/vi acker/man x reader snz fic i'm writing. it is 3000 words of horn (not even halfway done) and i am struggling to go through this alone lol. will post the one-shot someday, but here is a significant sneak peek if you want >-<

Tags: levi ackerman x reader, allergies (pollen), light mess/spray, some stuffy talk, sexual undressing

Thank fuck you happened to pull from the kiss at that moment. As soon as you withdrew, Levi brought the back of his hand to the bottom of his nose and pressed down hard, halting the tickle at the last second before who knows what would’ve happened. You gazed upon him with adoration, but in his nerves, he mistook your expression for pity. Levi pressed his wrist down even harder, he absolutely couldn’t let loose now. 

“Look at me… undressed already,” with a smirk, you continued the work he had started, pushing your sleeves down your shoulders and off your body, pulling your pants to the floor and toeing through the leg holes. “Yet, here you are, showing me nothing…”

Yes, that’s the point.

If only you knew the war being waged on him now, you would not have been so heartless as to demand more of him. Stepping between the spread of his legs and combing your fingers through his bangs, you sang, “C’mon, Levi… let me see you.”

Already, you had placed him at another impossible fork. One-handed undressing was not exactly ideal, but neither was dropping his guard and permitting the tickle to resume. While weighing his dually undesirable options, he remained still, but that would not do for his needy little thing. You hooked your fingers beneath the hem of his shirt and began to lift. With each inch of skin revealed, your thirst grew even more dire. Pair upon pair of symmetric muscles defined his abdomen, a runway to his gorgeous chest. When it came time to lift the garment up-off-over his head, he lifted his arms in both compliance and submission. Before you could sling it off of his wrists, though, his face scrunched up and he shook his head, compelling you to pause. 

Arms above his head and knotted in his own threads, his hands were unavailable for covering, forcing him to turn to the side and - “Hh, hih’EHshh!”

In the wake of that sneeze, you both had moments of recognition. For him, it was the realization that this was not just one off-chance sneeze, for the burn still remained, and if anything, intensified. For you, it was the darkness that misted his gray long-sleeve. In his own words, he would have called it disgusting, and you had every reason to agree with that. In your mind, you found it inexplicably endearing, as though he could not help but reveal to you a side of himself that all others would least expect. All from one sneeze, what was that about?

His runback gave you another chance to consider it more. Futilely, he attempted to bend his elbow closer to his face, but the tautness of his shirt only let him get so far. Levi leaned into the crook and tried to catch what he could, which was still not very much. “Hah’ttchu! Ha’ah… ik’shew!!”

His slick, straight locks had been thrown astray. A thin glaze of tears washed over his eyes. Watching his misery unfold, his symptoms helped you start to make sense of your feelings. Sneezing in the middle of sex was pretty silly. His spray was objectively gross. The sounds he made were cute at best and pathetic at worst. No matter, you loved him all the same.

You loved him. 

His eyes remained shut as he worked through the end of the fit, you allowed your jaw to drop. It was still early in your relationship, neither of you had said those three words, but you settled on the next best phrase. When his hitching began to still, you smiled and tucked his bangs back in place, “Hmm ~ bless you, sweetheart.”

Levi could not summon an adequate reply, too focused on his fight. For a moment, the sting cut him a break. He swiftly freed himself from the accidental cuffs and turned his top into a tissue. It felt wrong, but not quite as bad as letting his nose continue to run. Holding the makeshift Kleenex to his nose, he lifted his gaze to you. You read his silent plea and hurried to your bathroom, at first only snatching a couple, but when you heard the faded “...t’chu! nnt‘shew! nguhh…” from down the hall, you opted for the entire box.

Veins in his neck rose in rhythm with his hearty sniffs, an early hint to the stuffiness that had tainted his voice, “Takes.” After each blow, he would hide the mess inwards, fold it into a perfect square and shuck it into your trash can. That continued until he could breathe and speak clearly, “You said you washed your bedding…”

The room's temperature dropped from warm and cute to cold and harsh. His sharp and sudden transition sent shivers down your spine, you balled your fists and affirmed, “I did! Today!”

“Today?”

“Yeah!” You insisted, “Hung it all outside to dry and even ironed it after that!”

His eyes widened briefly before his angled brows cut them to narrow slits, his anger thick, “...You did what?”

After all the work you had put in today, you expected him to be thrilled, but instead, he was pissed. You felt your lips fall into a deep frown, a guilt you had not felt in some years - like the time you knocked over that vase - fell on your shoulders. “They were completely dry when I brought them in! It was a hot and windy day today.” 

Hot and windy indeed, but it seemed you missed the pollen count.

“I’m… sorry…” your throat tightened with regret, heart froze with embarrassment, “I did it for you…”

If anyone but you, he would have rolled his eyes and scowled. For me? Here he was, feeling like shit, but you were the one who needed comforting. Ironically, the one responsible for his mess, he would have to console. Just as his symptoms should have turned you off, he should have been livid with you, but you made mistakes, and he loved you despite them.

His feelings for you even managed to make him turn the other cheek, a rare instance for Ackerman. Allergies fucked him up so intensely that he often forgot others could be immune to them. It wasn’t your fault that you made the assumptions you had. In fact, he was aware of how ridiculous his own contrast was: tightly wound in all other contexts, but unbound and unraveled by the most microscopic inconvenience. Levi figured he should tell you. Better late than never.

As he spoke, Levi continued to pinch his nose in his shirt, sentence completion at the cost of nasalization. “I habb allergies.”

You asked, foremost, for clarification. Habb? Have? Once the words passed out your mouth, you realized it was also hard to believe. “You have…allergies?” 

His only response was a heightened shade of blush and a couple twitches of his nostrils. Evidently, that answered better than words could. Ackerman’s weakness… was pollen? You could not help the smile that warmed across your face, though you were able to hold back the compliment you longed to give. Oh, Levi… you’re so adorable.

Likewise, he was able to bite back his reaction, the first time he ever found your grin irritating. Shut up.

In lieu of words, your expressions exchanged that dialogue for you.

You sank your teeth into your lip, straining to bar the instinctual laugh, though you had known each other long enough that he was able to detect it anyways. Not long enough, though, to know one another’s allergies. 

A conclusion to his argument, Levi opted to release a ferocious triple, hoping it would cement your understanding and silence the sting long enough that the intimacy could continue. His left hand clutched your bedsheets and propped himself as he leaned back to bait the trigger. His right hand kept his nose suffocated in his shirt, refusing to let any of his spray slip through. Sneezes followed one after the other, leaving both of you without time to think or breathe, “Hih-AEShuu! Hn’AHSCH! Ha’AYSH-ih!!”

Despite the thick cloth covering, his voice was still loud enough to make your ears hurt. You had only ever known him to be cool, calm, collected. Looking down upon your lover now, he was nearly unrecognizable. Though the fit had ended for now, his eyes stayed tightly shut as if he were still in the throes. His face had flushed rose-petal red, exhausted, embarrassed, or both. His gasps were labored yet fruitless, leaving him panting through his mouth. Never before had you witnessed such exertion on the man you thought so capable. If he was struggling, you felt intimidated by proxy. Your knees buckled at the thought. 

“You sure it’s not a cold? You sound pretty stuffed up.”

“I’b sure.”

Though he was undone, he was not uncertain. “Suppose you’re right…” you mused, “It is the middle of summer.”

He was not immune to summer colds, but Levi bit his tongue. One confession at a time.

Without the threat of contagion, you lowered yourself to the mattress and took a seat at his side. You wrapped your arm around his shoulders then combed your fingers from the base of his neck through his undercut, “Should we take it to the couch?”

Levi’s sniff lasted for a couple seconds, you could feel his muscles tense as his lungs endeavored. That was enough to answer. The back of his hand dwelled beneath his nose as he muttered, “Too late.”

“What do you mean?”

“Once I start, I can’t - heh - I… can’t…” Levi pinched his nose again, stifling into his shirt, “Heh’NGXT!!chu…”

He had turned from you sharply, but your side-to-side contact had been maintained. You felt the sneeze rip through him and scratched his back tenderly, “Can’t stop, huh?”

“Snnnnf… exactly.”

You had worked all day for this moment, but witnessing his pathetic struggle made you feel guilty for reaping it. You leaned your head on his shoulders and glanced up to him with doe eyes. Soft kisses on his rigid jawline, “Rain check?”

“No,” Levi asserted, “I’ll be fide, I just… heh’tchu!!” His shoulders scrunched steeply, then fell upon exhale, “It’s… just…” Irritation suddenly revived, Levi snapped forward and whipped his hand to his face, barely in time. “Ha’AEsh-ih!!”

Off the cuff of the sneeze, he growled with frustration, “Fuck…” can’t even finish a sentence. Having not yet regained his breath, though, the typical cut of his curse was significantly dulled. Normally, his swears chilled you to the bone. This time, you felt warm all over. 

#aliasnz's #snz kink #snz #snez kink #snez #snz fic #snez fic #snzblr

[user-needs-new-hyperfixation]

NSFW headcanons for sherliam?

Some of these show up repeatedly in my fics, but I'll try to think of a couple new ones off the cuff to keep it interesting lol.

Sherlock is just a teensy bit masochistic. Like very mildly, bordering on vanilla. He likes having his hair pulled or being bitten.

Which is convenient, because William is a habitual biter and hair-puller

Sherlock really loves giving blowjobs. I think this headcanon probably came from the old stereotype (?) about smokers and oral fixations, and now I have to fight with him every time I want him to do literally anything else in my spicier fics.

My headcanons for their levels of previous experience vary day to day, but at the moment I think neither had partnered sex before each other, but Sherlock has always been a "jerk off once a day" kinda guy (the endorphins are just another kind of high) and William was some kinda Xie-Lian-esque monk who just recited his own weird little theatre kid mantras to himself whenever he got hard and practically willed himself into semi-impotence because damn it, he had important things to do and boners were a waste of time. (Then Sherlock came along and absolutely destroyed this carefully developed system.)

They definitely do endearingly cringe little power play games, all "Mwahaha! I've captured you now, Sherlock Holmes. How will you convince the Lord of Crime to let you go?" and so forth. Liam has to let the theatre kid out somewhere. They're both very horny about it.

Liam likes delayed gratification. Likes to spend days building up the tension, teasing with little kisses and looks and brushing touches. Letting the want build. Sherlock "hates" this right up until he gets to enjoy the explosive results, at which point he's determined never to complain about the process again (right up until the next time, when he immediately starts complaining about the process again.)

The first time Sherlock saw Liam dressed down for a case -- open collar, sleeves rolled up, etc etc -- he popped a boner.

The same thing happened to Liam the first time he saw Sherlock dressed up.

Not really NSFW, but they really really like kissing. Like so much so that they sometimes get distracted halfway through the build-up to sex and just keep kissing instead.

Though their romance is blindingly obvious to everyone around them, they're actually quite private about their sex life. They'll smile indulgently through a bit of good-natured teasing, but neither of them are inclined to share any details even with their closest friends.

Neither of them are very loud during sex. They're talkers, but not much for making noise. William does swear in bed, which Sherlock is delighted by.

They discover in conversation much much later that the first time they each gave in to fantasy and got off thinking about each other was the same night (it was definitely the night after The Two Detectives lmao)

Billy is to some degree the exception to them not talking much about their sex life, if only because they spent too much of their honeymoon phase sharing tents and train compartments and inn rooms with him because the bosses had no reason to write off extra space. They got used to telling him pretty bluntly to scram for an hour or two (and compensated him with fruit baskets and having his pick of which tasks he wanted on assorted missions).

#moriarty the patriot #yuukoku no moriarty #sherliam #asks

[babybluebex]

𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐌𝐄 | 𝐞𝐝𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐧𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | eddie has an idea that you agree to, but is it worth it, letting his followers watch him fuck you live on stream? 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 | edward nashton (the batman, 2022) x fem!reader 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 | smut— fingering (f!receiving), unprotected sex, premature ejaculation (he can be dom all he wants, he's still the eddie we know and love), voyuerism, misogyny, degradation, dumbification, he fingers you with his gloves on at one point and i can't remember what that kink is called lmao 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 | blah blah posting on wednesday whatever have this right now hehe // follow @cremebruhleewrites to be notified when i post a new story! // support my writing!

You giggled as you situated yourself on Eddie’s lap, turning slightly to see his face. His plastic mask was a little crooked on his face, the cling wrap on his hair pulled flat and tight. “Looking good, honey,” you smiled, lightly reaching up to fix his mask. “They’re gonna love you.” 

“They’ll love you too,” Eddie told you, and the mask shifted as he smiled. “Remember, don’t use my name. I won;t use yours. Okay? You ready?” 

“Yeah,” you replied. “Start it up.” 

Eddie leaned forward to reach his computer, and you laughed again as his arm snaked around your waist to reach the keyboard. You had talked about doing something like this for a long time, and your willingness to do it certainly seemed to surprise Eddie. He had admitted the fantasy to you one day as you laid in bed together, panting and sticky with sweat and cum— “I wish I could fuck you on stream, have everyone see you, y’know?”— and you were hesitant at first, but Eddie had talked you into it. There wasn’t any real harm in it, was there? People posted videos of themselves having sex all the time, he told you, and some people even got paid to do it. Eddie assured you that his followers would like the content, and he smoothed his hand down your arm as he kissed you. “They’re just horny guys who would love to see you,” he said. “If you need to quit halfway through, you can.” 

The computer beeped as it started up the livestream, and the camera light blinked green as it turned on. Eddie’s arms went around your middle and held you close, and you leaned forward to watch followers spill into the stream. The trickle was slow, and you pushed your hair out of your face and clutched Eddie’s thigh underneath you as the first comment came in: who’s the slut lol

“Hey, guys,” Eddie began, his meek voice in complete dissonance with the intimidating costume he wore. “Um, this is my girlfriend. She just wanted to say hi before we got started today.” 

“Hi,” you echoed and gave a small laugh as the comments trickled in. 

Hi

ur beautiful

WTF man you have a girlfriend??

“This is scary,” you mumbled, and Eddie’s hand reached under the hem of your shirt to lightly stroke your skin. 

“We can stop,” Eddie whispered in your ear, and you shook your head. 

“He’s told me all about you guys,” you giggled, wrapping an arm around Eddie’s neck. “It’s so exciting to actually meet you.” 

Eddie’s hand smoothed forward from your hip to your thigh, playing with the edge of your panties under your shirt. His eyes watched the comments, just the same as you did, and you skipped over every comment calling you a slut or whore and focused more on the angrier ones, like the commenter was betrayed by Eddie having a girlfriend. You suppose, in a way, they were; he seemed like he was singularly focused on the mission at hand, and now he suddenly has a girlfriend. “Oh, babe,” you whined. “They hate me.”

Thankfully, Eddie was on the same wavelength as you, amping it up for the camera, and he cooed softly. “No, they don’t, baby,” he said, even though the majority of the comments contradicted him. His gloved fingers continued to play with the hem of your shirt and panties, and you watched the viewer count skyrocket in time with him pushing his fingers down into your panties. “They love you. Look, they’re calling you all these pretty names.” 

She’s cute tbh 

what a slut shes just with him to fuck him 

Cunt ass bitch you should get rid of her

“It’s all the same names I call you,” Eddie said, pressing his cold masked face into your neck. “Bitch and slut. And I love you, right?” 

You nodded, tilting your head to look at him. You smiled as you saw his green eyes sparkle behind his glasses, and you placed a quick kiss to where his mouth was underneath the mask. His hand gently cupped your pussy in your panties, and your breath caught in your throat. There was no bailing now. “Baby?” you mumbled, and his free hand wrapped around your throat, holding you tight. 

“Speak up, baby girl,” he told you. “Do you want something from me?” You nodded quickly, and his hand on your pussy twitched, like he was overly eager to finally touch you. “What do you want?” 

“I-I want you to touch me,” you told him, and Eddie laughed beneath his mask. 

“I already am touching you,” Eddie said. Your skin rippled when you saw, out of the corner of your eye, the chat explode in response to what was inevitably going to happen, but you couldn’t pay attention well enough to actually read the comments. “Want me to touch you somewhere else, baby?” 

“Y-Yes, please,” you stammered. “Touch my clit, baby, please?” 

“Good girl,” Eddie said, and his middle finger lightly touched your clit. The leather of his gloves was cold on your sensitive nerve, and you gasped and jolted your hips forward into his hand. Eddie laughed softly, pressing his face into your neck, and he added, “God, you’re easy. Isn’t she so easy? I hardly touch her and she’s already moaning like a slut.” 

You couldn’t even bear to open your eyes to see the response on the computer, but the pleasure that Eddie’s fingers gave you as he rubbed your clit was too powerful. Your thighs couldn’t help but shake as he pleasured you, and he whispered, “You’re doing great, baby.” 

“Thank you,” you whispered back, and Eddie laughed. Your hands floated up to try to find purchase on him somewhere, and your fingers found his shoulder. You grabbed at his jacket with a whimper and tugged, and Eddie pressed his mask to your neck, almost like he was trying to kiss your skin. 

“You want more?” Eddie asked. 

“Please,” you said with a nod, and Eddie was quick to tug at your panties, getting them off. It felt so wrong to expose yourself so much on camera, but the taboo of it only made your stomach tingle with excitement. 

“There you go,” Eddie told you as he tugged off your panties, balling them up in his hand. You chanced a nervous glance at the computer, and the chat was actively sending messages that you couldn’t read, although you could take a guess at what degrading comments they were making about you. Eddie pulled you a little closer to his body and pushed your legs open further, and, without warning, he dipped a finger into your wet cunt. You jumped at the cold leather inside your channel, but you couldn’t help the sigh that escaped you. 

“Babe,” you whimpered, tugging hard at his jacket. 

“Oh, what?” Eddie asked. “Does it feel that good?” 

You couldn’t do much else than whimper at the feel of his finger and the glove, and you opened your eyes to see the chat. You knew that Eddie had around 500 followers, averaging about 15 viewers on a stream on a good day, but the small counter at the top of the screen told you that 500 people had joined the screen and watched. You wondered how many were followers and how many likely followed a link that their friend had sent them, but Eddie’s long, slender finger hit that spot inside you without much searching, and your eyes closed tight as you moaned in shock. 

Your pussy clenched hard around Eddie’s finger, and he laughed into your ear. “I asked you a question, baby,” he said, and he quickly added a second finger. The stretch was so wonderful, and your mind went blank. What had he asked you? 

His fingers fucked up into that special spot once again, driving home hard and making you jolt, and, even though you couldn’t see his face, you knew he was smiling at you. “I asked,” he began. “If this feels good.” 

“Yes!” you whimpered. “Yes, baby, feels so good, fuck.” 

“Good,” he whispered to you. “You’re so tight, fuck, baby girl. Can you guys see this, how tight she is? Fuck, can’t wait to get you on my cock.” 

“Fuck!” you gasped. “Baby, want your cock so bad!” 

“Ask nicely,” Eddie told you, and you moaned as he fucked up into you again with his cold, gloved fingers, hitting your sensitive spot again. This time, when you moaned, Eddie added his thumb to the mix, lightly toying with your clit. If he wanted you to cum before he properly fucked you, he was doing everything just the way he needed to. The hot pleasure settled deep into your belly, tugging at your legs and making them shake, and Eddie lightly slapped your inner thigh. 

“Please!” you yelped as his hand connected with the flesh of your thigh. “W-Want your cock so bad, please, please, please!” 

“Four pleases,” Eddie said. “Desperate much, huh? I’ll tell you what, if you can cum on my fingers, I’ll let you have my cock, okay? Does that sound fair?”

“Baby,” you whined, and Eddie pulled his fingers from inside you and sent a harsh smack to your pussy. You squealed and instinctively tried to close your legs, but Eddie held them open with his strong grip. 

“You should be thankful I’m making it that easy for you,” Eddie told you. “You should be fucking thanking me, because I’m not letting myself feel any pleasure at all. It’s all about you, sweetheart, what about me? You’re not touching my dick, imagine how bad I have it. That’s so typical of me too, isn’t it? Always worried about others, never worried about myself.” 

For a moment, you were concerned that Eddie was serious, that he was actually upset with you, and your heart began to sink until you felt his palm settle over your outstretched neck and squeeze lightly. “Open your eyes, baby,” Eddie told you. “Look at them, they love it.” 

The computer reflected back to you exactly what you saw, and you watched the comments file in, calling you and Eddie all sorts of things, good and bad. There was a small faction of commenters that seemed to really be liking the content, because every few seconds a notification popped up on Eddie’s computer screen, saying that so-and-so donated $5 or $10 dollars. “You worry about yourself all the time,” you told him. “Just because you’re not selfish in bed doesn’t mean that you’re totally detached from your own needs. You needed that silly little orphanage gone, so what did you do? You did what you wanted a-and burned it down.” You stuttered as Eddie’s free hand, the one not around your throat, began to lightly trail along your thighs, and he squeezed your neck just a bit to urge you on. “Gotham’s hurt you, baby, and you’re taking back what’s yours. And nobody is telling you to do this, you’re doing it because you want to.” 

“But it still benefits everyone else,” Eddie countered.

“Th-There’s nothing wrong with that,” you told him. You knew that he only wanted you to spout his rhetoric to entice his viewers to stay, but you wondered how many of the new, first-time viewers agreed with it. And, more than that, who agreed with it because it was you saying it instead of Eddie? “If you’re doing it for yourself, that’s what matters. You are selfish, baby, I promise you are.” 

“Good,” Eddie said, and his hand on your thigh stilled. “Stand up, I’m gonna fuck you now.” 

You did as he told, leaning forward and bracing your hands on his desk, bringing you closer to the computer than before. You giggled as Eddie hastily tugged off your shirt and squeezed your tits for just a moment, “Hi,” you said softly to the camera, and the comments came in rapid-fire:

Hi

Ur so fucking hot 

I bet he fed you those lines huh

You couldn’t say much more, because Eddie’s grip on your waist tightened and he tugged you back so that your bare cunt hit his clothed dick. He was hard inside his pants, and you started to reach around behind you to feel him, but his hands left your hips and grabbed your wrists tightly. “Bad girl,” he said, and he sent a swift but hard spank to your ass. “No touching. You want me to be selfish, so I will be; I’m going to fuck you until I’m finished, I don’t care if you cum or not.”

You smiled at the prospect, and you bit your lip as you felt him remove a hand from your wrists to unbuckle his belt and undo his pants. You could hear his heavy breathing from the mask, and he suddenly tugged you back, pressing his face into your neck.”Thank you,” he whispered and, even though you were a little unsure what he was thanking you for, you turned and gave him a little kiss on his mask where his cheek would be. 

He kicked your feet apart with his boot, opening your legs, and he took no time to hesitate before he pressed the spongy head of his cock against you. Your new position closer to the computer helped you read every comment, and your moan turned into soft laughter as the camera caught a glimpse of Eddie’s hard cock and the viewers reacted accordingly: holy shit why is he hung like a horse?? 

“Look at the comments,” you whispered to Eddie, and he lifted his eyes from your cunt to the computer, and he let out his own breathless laughter. 

“Aw, guys,” Eddie said bashfully, and you knew he was thankful for the mask to hide his blush. “You’re too nice to me.”

“They’re right,” you told him, and his mask shifted as he clenched his back teeth. 

“Shut up,” he chuckled, and he parted your pussy lips with his cock, threatening your throbbing hole. “You want my dick, you’ve gotta be quiet.” 

“Yes, sir,” you said playfully, but Eddie’s grip on your hands suddenly became tight and painful, and his free hand lifted from your throat to shove two of his fingers on your mouth. 

“You’re such a whore,” he mumbled, and, with a swift snap of his hips, sank himself fully into you. You gasped around his fingers and moaned in shock, and Eddie let out his own moan at your wet heat. “God, you feel so good… Fuck, baby.”

You couldn’t even speak at the feeling, the same tingling from before permeating your body. It was a reminder of how close you had been before Eddie had cruelly stopped fingering you, and you worried how long you’d last in his grip. 

Eddie slowly pulled back, letting you feel every ridge of his burning cock, and he took a deep breath once only his head remained in you. “I can feel you throbbing, baby,” he chuckled. “How close were you before I stopped?”

You nodded quickly, trying to tell him with his fingers still shoved in your mouth, and you whined as he slowly, almost torturously fucked back into you. It felt like heaven, and your hands flexed for something to hold onto to keep yourself grounded. 

“Poor thing,” Eddie mumbled. “What do you think, guys, should I let her cum?” His eyes flicked over all the comments, all the yeses and nos and why the fuck do we cares, and he finally said, “You can cum whenever you need, baby, but remember what I told you earlier?” 

You shook your head, and Eddie removed his hand from your mouth and hit your cheek. The leather of his glove stung, and he reached down to his desk and fumbled for a moment before recovering a roll of duct tape. “I told you,” he started as he pulled out a length of tape, ripping it easily. “That I was gonna fuck you until I came, remember? Or are you already too cock-drunk to remember five minutes ago?”

“Sorry,” you mumbled, and Eddie grabbed your hands and quickly taped your wrists together. The tape pinched your skin and pulled at the delicate hairs on your arm, but you didn’t complain. You couldn’t; you were fucking the Riddler, after all, and he used duct tape at his crime scenes. It was his M.O. Once he was satisfied that you were secure, he grabbed your hands and pushed himself deep inside you, so deep that it made you gasp. 

“Fuck,” Eddie mumbled, and he started up a quick rhythm, fucking you in time nearly with his heartbeat. “You feel so good. Jesus Christ, honey… I bet everyone watching this is fucking jealous. They want to fuck you too. You wouldn’t let them, though, right? Only me?” 

“Only you,” you echoed, and you knew that Eddie was smiling under his mask.

“I’m glad to hear that,” Eddie told you. The wet sounds of him fucking you were filling your ears and making you go a little dumb, and you couldn’t help the moans that left you with every fuck in he gave. It was all too good, and you whimpered as he continuously hit that spot inside you. 

“Baby!” you cried. It was so difficult to remind yourself not to use his real name, and you imagined it was hard work for him too. You had never called him baby as much as you were, and, while you didn’t like it, you missed the way his name felt in your mouth. “I’m gonna cum! Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum…” 

“I told you that you could cum whenever you need to,” Eddie said, smacking your ass hard as he tugged you back onto him. “Only that I wasn’t gonna stop until I came. But that’s very nice, warning me… Maybe you’re good for something yet.” 

You whimpered and cried as he continued to abuse the nerve inside you, and you were thankful that he was in tune with you, because he reached around in front of you and started to play with your clit, helping you reach your finish quickly. “Oh, fuck,” you whined, unable to hold it back anymore, and your fingers clawed for some part of him to hold onto. You found his jacket, the pocket that you had helped him paint a big black question mark on, and you held it tightly as your body gave in to everything he did, and you came. The heat invaded every inch of you, from head to toe, and you felt your knees go weak as he slipped from inside you and held you close. You couldn’t even speak for the fire that ravaged you, and you let your head hang as you tried to regain some semblance of normal breathing. 

“Fuck,” you heard Eddie mumble, his voice distant from the ringing in your ears. “Now, that’s just fucking embarassing.” 

“What?” you asked softly, and Eddie gave a heavy sigh as he sat back down in his chair and hauled you into his lap. He was panting just like you were, and you could see the red flush in the eye holes of his mask. “Oh, fuck, baby. You came so quick!” 

“I promise I usually last longer than that,” Eddie mumbled to his computer, and he held you close as he reached forward and retrieved a pair of scissors from his desk. Carefully, he split the tape around your wrists, and you threw yourself forward, hugging him around his neck. Your fingers dug under the collar of his jacket and found his warm skin, and you sat and panted with him until his arms went tight around you, holding you firmly as you straddled his thigh. 

“How the fuck do I end this?” Eddie mumbled in your ear, and you laughed despite yourself. “Thank you guys for watching this… Unconventional stream, I guess. Thanks for all the likes and comments and-and donations, those are new. Anything you wanna say, baby?” 

“I hope you guys enjoyed it,” you said, turning slightly to see the computer. “Let him know if you want me back, I-I’d love to come back.” 

Eddie waited for a moment, reading all the last comments that filtered in, before he ended the stream with a sigh. The room went dark for a moment, then the bright white of the screen lit everything back up. “Oh my God,” he mumbled, and you helped him take off his mask and tear the cling wrap from his head. His face was red, his cheeks nice and bright, and his downy hair was sweaty and smoothed flat against his head. You had never seen him look more beautiful, though. 

“You okay?” you asked, and Eddie nodded. 

“Are you?” he asked, and you leaned close to bury your face in his warm neck. You nodded, placing a kiss on his neck, and Eddie’s hand came up to capture your cheek. “You did so good, baby, I’m proud of you.”

“You did good too,” you told him, and you leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his pretty pink mouth. Finally, you were allowed to kiss him, and it felt perfect. “Just try not to cum immediately next time, okay?” 

Eddie rolled his eyes and smacked your ass one last time. “Whatever you say, baby.” 

#the riddler x reader #riddler x y/n #the riddler smut #edward nashton x reader #edward nashton x y/n #edward nashton smut #paul dano x reader #paul dano x y/n #paul dano smut #the batman 2022 #the riddler #riddler #edward nashton

[pinkomcranger]

I saw your post about Saga and I 100% agree. I love her character so much and was so happy they avoided stereotypes AND gave her agency. She wasn't there just to save Alan (the horrid magical black person troupe was avoided) she was there for people who meant something to her and they just so happen to work together by the end. Remedy truly wrote a fascinating character and got a great actress to portray her. I'm glad the hate died out from the reactionaries but the apathy from the fandom is just as bad sometimes. I love her personality and I honestly love AnderCase as a ship and incorporating Saga into ships (AndercasexWake is a thing for me lol). I also like them as friends, their dynamic is so damn good I want to see them in future games. However, I gave up writing Andercase because people just ignore it most of the time. The fandom in general kind of feels isolating if you don't like the standard ships/characters. It's discouraging and sad and makes it hard to want to post. I tried again and of course the fic did poorly so I don't bother, reminds me how little people want anything to do with Saga. Even general fics would be awesome if people are squicked by het or don't like Saga and Casey as a ship. The fan space for her and ships/dynamics with her is so small...Drawing her is scary too given someone was attacked over it, so that worries me too and I kind of backed away. There's barely anything of Saga in any fanworks and when women are involved they gravitate to Rose and in some cases Estevez (the Yakuza mod just broke my heart they did not think to add Saga before Rose who has less time and at a point people shipped Casey with Estevex BEFORE Saga like WHAT). I know that struggle you're feeling. Saga and anything with her is a footnote and I know it's not malicious but it sucks. Fandom favoritism does not help, even in the smallness of Saga fandom content only a handful are seen and the rest ignored. I've been there and seen it, it pushes newcomers away. I hope this gets better in the future but not holding my breath. Love Remedyverse/Remedy but the fandom space depresses me which sucks because everyone seems nice to me, just...sorry for the rambling. Just saw a post that resonated with my frustrations.

Do you know the thing that gets me the most about Saga? She was created by a white man. And he, along with the other writers, made SURE to avoid the stereotypes we usually get in black women protags, especially in video games. She has a power, yes, but she's not using it solely to save one person. She doesn't even know she HAS a power until halfway through the game!

She wants to save her daughter first and foremost and then Casey, she tells Alan this point-blank, save my daughter and Casey, non-negotiable, she's NOT helping him otherwise. And you can see that as selfish, but it's not, if it had JUST been herself thrown into the story? She would've been FINE with it, you see her getting more and more excited about the case. She's intrigued EVERY step of the way. It only becomes personal when Alan has the audacity to use Logan and Casey, that's her line in the sand.

Melanie puts so much into making Saga come alive, because as amazing as the writing is, she could've still fallen into the sassy black woman trope, and Melanie doesn't let that happen. I think the ONLY criticism you can give her is that her accent slips, but I really never noticed it. I agree that I'm glad the hate from the dumbass gamer bros, but like you said, the apathy can be just as bad, it's a choice to not say the quiet part outloud.

I genuinely wish they'd just say, she's a black woman, therefore, I'm not interested in her. I only care about the white men. At least be HONEST about it, instead of raving about how fun it was to play as Saga and she's so badass but not backing it up with actions.

I love Andercase with every fiber of my being. I loved them from their first scene, despite knowing she was married to somebody else. Casey is Saga's support, you see her loving to crack her puns to Casey, she even thinks of one and saves it to memory solely to tell it to Casey. Not Logan, not David, but Casey.

They mirror each other, again from their first scene, drinking coffee at the same time. A trait they keep, even as the horror story creeps closer. Casey wouldn't be even a little bit interesting to me if he wasn't paired with Saga. He's the moon and she's the sun.

I'm so sorry you were discouraged to write and post about Andercase, even just as besties. Because their dynamic IS gold, and it echoes even when they're separated. The second Kiran shows up and kicks Saga off the case, she gets over it, fine, she'll deal, but help her find her partner, damnit! I've enjoyed fics where they are just besties, the ones that ACTUALLY focus on them and, you know, doesn't make Saga the driving force for CaseyWake and nothing else.

I think that's one of the reasons it's hard for me to ship Saga and FBI Casey with anyone else, because they're each other's closest interactions for so much of the game. It's hard for me to ship Alan with them because I see him and Saga as the true platonic soulmates of the AW2 cast and Casey HATES Alan. All the way up the ending of the final draft. You can see it in his expression and body language, if he hadn't just been through the wringer and so happy to see Saga, he definitely would've punched Alan for all he shit he's put them through.

Writing a pairing you love, feeling so proud and happy about the work you've done, just to see it brushed aside is one of the most painful feelings as a creator. Fandom is supposed to be for EVERYONE, it's not supposed to be high school cliques that can't interact with each other. I don't ship Alan with Saga's Casey (it's just the only way I see him, heh), but I've seen some AMAZING fan art for them that's made me smile. But you rarely see Saga involved, which makes no sense in regards to her Casey. If it was fictional Casey, that would make sense, he doesn't exist outside of Alan's head, while Saga's Casey is a living, breathing person who spends most of his time with Saga or talking about her.

Yet she's relegated to the bro when her Casey and Alan only have her in common. I can't buy Casey being soft and domestic with Alan to save my life. I see it with Saga, I can see Saga being soft with Alan because she does show that side to him. That's who she is, if you've earned her trust and respect. You can tell Saga is always the "good cop" while Casey is the "bad cop." The only time you see him sympathetic towards Alan is when he first washes up to shore. He's mocking him but holding his tongue because Saga's not going to take that nonsense from him.

You only see Casey show the full force of his anger towards Alan when Saga isn't there to stop him. To say "Yes, THAT'S the actual love story here" is a...choice, one that actively ignores the on-screen narrative. Again, fictional Casey and Alan are a completely different topic and not something I care enough to write about.

NOBODY should be attacked for liking a pairing because what does that do? What does it accomplish except make yourself feel better and superior? Again, it's been a choice to ignore the two main women in the series, which are Alice and Saga. But I've seen quite a few fics where Alice gets to be paired with CaseyWake, while you'll be hard-pressed to find a fic where Saga gets to interact with them. That tells me something that makes me uncomfortable. And that's covert racism.

You can't even make the excuse that there's nothing left to learn about Saga, because that's simply untrue. We know the bare minimum about her family on the Anderson side, and absolutely nothing concerning her father (who is Warlin Door and I will die on that hill). We don't know much about her created family, certainly nothing about David, outside of the fact he likes Bright Springs, and boardgames and doesn't take his daughter to get checked out after she hits her head in the shower. The fact her entire identity ISN'T just Logan's mother and David's wife means so much to me.

You can't tell me it's because she's married either, because how can you say that in one breath and then ship Alan with anyone but Alice in the same breath? It genuinely leads me to think it's simply that she's a BLACK woman. And as you said, seeing people create ships for Rose and to pair Estevez with CASEY, when she's an out-and-out lesbian that Casey only meets near the end of the game speaks volumes.

I genuinely think if you swapped her race, she would be less ignored, and that's extremely fucked up. Saga was created with so much love, care, and respect. A black woman protag that we could get behind and feel represented by. A smart, strong, caring badass, who still retains her femininity, but who has an identity outside of "mother" even though saving her daughter is her driving force, it's not her only one. She cares about her newly found grandfather and great-uncle. She cares about Rose, despite the woman irritating her in the beginning. She worries for the residents of the nursing home. She has mixed feelings towards the CULT. And of course, her secondary concern is Casey. And once she sees how hard Alan is trying, she comes to care for him as well. Why else tell him he's a hero when she has every right to hate him more than anyone else in the game?

She cares about these people she's met, and she knows they deserve to be saved. And Alan is the first to admit he can't do ANY of it without Saga. If the main character of the series acknowledged Saga, why can't the fandom?

I truly hope that you can find the courage to try again with Andercase, or just Saga in general. Because I'm seeing that there are people that love her, and maybe they're not content creators but consumers, and that's now one of my motivations. To feed their hunger because they're part of the fandom too, and they shouldn't be ignored. I promise you, you'll have a fan in me. And sometimes, just one person knowing they love what you create and how they look forward to it is enough. I'm not interested in a popularity contest. You'll never see me in ship wars. I'm here for FBI Special Agent Saga Anderson. This is her story too, to make her the footnote in fanworks is terribly egregious and goes against the very thing Remedy wanted.

If you ever want to ramble, my inbox is always open. If you ever have ideas you want to see in regards to fanfic for Andercase or Saga, I'm right here. Thank you so much for giving me a chance to read about your feelings for Saga and her partner. It means the world to me.

#alan wake 2 #saga anderson #alex casey #alan wake #saga anderson x alex casey #andercase #sagacasey #alan wake 2 spoilers #my thoughts #meta #strong black woman #covert racism #ignoring an amazing black woman protag is a crime #sam lake and the remedy team worked too hard on Saga for her to be erased #the men in this series wouldn't be able to do a damn thing without the women #and Saga proves that time and again #anti CaseyWake #not actually anti but using the tag just in case

[arent-i-the-fairest]

Idia with an s/o who used to stalk him (not in a perverted way) before they started dating bc they wanted to befriend him but was too afraid to approach him pls?

#𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐲

author’s note : a non-perverse stalker, what an oxymoron lol— but i did my best to write it here! hope you enjoy~!! ( ＾∇＾）

cw : stalking

idia remembers the day you two started dating— which was also the day ortho revealed all the things you did to get to this point. (not knowing you didn’t want him to.) and idia was absolutely speechless— like, how does he react to this information?? does he… does he thank you for all the effort you went through? run for the hills?? thank you then run?

well, over anything, he is baffled. baffled that you went to the lengths you did just to try getting to know him. the biggest reason being because, well, it’s you— like, the coolest person in the school. you’re mx. magicless person that came from another world that also took down several overblots.

—he’d think you, of all people, would be able to just walk up to a loser like him and ask for his number with no problem. but ends up you were afraid of him. him. idia shroud.

(well, having someone intimidated by him… it’s not a first or anything— far from it, in fact— but still! he’s surprised.)

but anyways, it’s oddly amusing for him to hear all the shenanigans you got into before you two started dating. let’s take a look at a few of them, shall we?

one of the things you used to do was constantly look through his magicam— so you were always checking to see if he posted anything new, rereading his old posts, so on and so forth.

grim watched you scrolling from over your shoulder. “and just what are you trying to gather from reading all of his posts?” he asked.

“his likes, dislikes— stuff like that. he posts a lot about them, and is so passionate about them too! for example he loves this one idol group, premo— and this anime, attack on…” grim started tuning your voice out, sleepy.

“you…” he yawned, crawling up up your lap. “sound crazy— MRRAH?!” he hissed as you suddenly stood up, starting to pace back and forth around the room. “damn it..” you muttered.

“henchman?”

“I ACCIDENTALLY LIKED SOME RANDOM POST HE MADE 6 MONTHS AGO—”

you would often try and send your friends to go and ask idia questions, and they were… not the most enthusiastic about the idea of being your errand boy, to say the least. but hey, you gave them good rewards, so they all caved in at the end.

“so, you want me to run to ignihyde just to ask idia what his favorite food is?” ace asked, squinting his eyes.

you nodded. “correct.” “pfft— no way, you can do it by yourself, you’re a big kid!” he scoffed, walking away. “ace, come back! you know i can’t, i don’t even know how to approach him! do this for me and you get to copy off my homework for every day the next week!”

ace stopped in his tracks and turned right around. “ohoho— sold!” he laughed as he started running towards the dorm.

there were some times where you wanted to drop this whole scheme— several, in fact. because, well, this is weird. so you’d try and talk to him face to face, like normal people would— you had a pretty good chance of having a good, smooth conversation too, since you had the advantage of knowing what he likes and doesn’t like! —but still, every attempt failed since you ended up getting cold feet.

thanks to reading through idia’s posts, you felt prepared to talk to him. extra prepared, actually, since you brought something that he’s had his eye on— a manga, which he posted about wanting yesterday. that you went out of your way to find and purchase.

manga in hand, you approached idia’s room, but stopped halfway. did you really have the confidence for this?

on the other side of the door— idia looked at his younger brother, who suddenly seemed alert. “idia, i’m detecting someone else is super near— they’re right outside your door!” “WHAT”

hearing all the commotion, you were tipped over the edge and ended up running away. womp womp~

this whole thing was kind of a wild journey for you, one you don’t quite know if you enjoyed or not— but hey, you got your man now.

#lol psa : this is just fiction don’t stalk ur crushes (or. like. anyone else. ever)— that’s a very not-great thing to do #ok there i have shared my wisdom for the day #back to being dumb #gn reader #twst #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #idia x reader

[lovelypoisxn]

Can I request Poly! Draco & Theo with Snowed In AU! and maybe it's set during Christmas break?

Of course love!

𝕊𝕥𝕒𝕣𝕤 𝕀𝕟 𝕐𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝔼𝕪𝕖𝕤

ℙ𝕠𝕝𝕪!𝔻𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕠 𝕄𝕒𝕝𝕗𝕠𝕪 & 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕠 ℕ𝕠𝕥𝕥 𝕏 𝔽!ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

Summary : Just some fluff with our fav slytherin boys.

Author's Note : This is my first fic ever! I’m exited but nervous. Next on my never ending list of fics to write is a Eddie Munson fluff/light smut or some poly!jegulus fluff! Dedicated to my darling @justxfinn . (Not beta read, WE DIE LIKE MEN) I honestly forgot to add the snowed in AU! part lol. Also im terrible at summarys.

Warnings : Some making out but other than that a shit ton of fluff.

Word count: 1.3k

As he flicked through the box, a small, handwritten letter caught his eye and a smile spread across his face. Draco recognized that letter, it was the one Theo had written him what felt like decades ago. It was christmas break & they were halfway through their fifth year at Hogwarts. Theo had written to him about this beautiful girl he'd met and sure enough Theo was right. That January when he saw her for the first time he fell in love.

It was now christmas break of seventh year & all three had decided to stay at Hogwarts for the next two weeks. Draco was cleaning his prefect dorm in preparation for yours and Theos arrival. As he finished the last box his mind began to spiral: what if you were rethinking it, what if-. He snapped from his thoughts as your and Theos voices echoed through the once loud dorms. 

His heartbeat slowed as you and Theo filed into his room. "But Jack Sparrow has pirate clothes" you told Theo, waving your hands as emphasis. "But he threatened Elizabeth!" Theo exclaimed. Draco smiled to himself at their antics. "So, Elizabeth could have done something if she wanted!" Theo rolled his eyes at your statement. "You two can fight over pirates of the caribbean another time" Draco finally stepped in. Whining could be heard from you and Theo. You plopped down on Draco's bed dramatically & a grumbling Theo went to get your bags from the slytherin common room.

Draco went to sit next to you on the bed and you scooted down to make room. You leaned over to the nightstand to get some Bobby pins, as you started to pin up Draco's hair. When Theo came back you had moved away from Draco and you motioned for Theo to sit down so you could do his hair too. Draco just watched you, enjoying how natural it was between the both of you. Draco came over and sat on the couch with his back against the arm of the couch, looking at the both of you. Draco gave Theo a look that could only be described as fond before turning to watch you.

————————♡—————

When you finished Theos hair you looked at the clock and realized that you had lost track of the time. Theo sat up, yawning as Draco went into the prefect washroom to change. A few minutes later he came out wearing gray sweatpants with a tight white shirt. Your eyes widened and Theo chuckled at your expression. "What are you staring at?" Draco asked and you quickly shook your head. As Draco went back to the couch, Theo grabbed a towel and went into the washroom Draco exited just moments before. Leaving you alone with Draco. Just as you sat up about to make up an excuse and run down to the empty common room, Draco stepped in front of you and pinned your wrists to the wall. After he let go of your wrists, Draco slowly pressed his body against you until his chest was touching yours. You gulped quietly. Draco ran a hand through his pale blond hair and traced patterns onto your hips as you shivered slightly. As if to emphasize his point Draco began peppering kisses along your neck. Slowly, softly, and gently kissing his way down to your breast, and then stopping and looking up at you. He pulled away but didn't take his eyes off of yours. "I missed you'' he murmured as he leaned in closer to you. With those soft words, Draco brushed his nose against yours and softly kissed you. His lips moving slowly against yours. When they broke apart, Draco put both of his hands on either side of your head as he brought you close again to capture your lips again. After several minutes of kissing you broke away, gasping as you did. As soon as Draco stopped kissing you, Theo came out of the bathroom with only a navy towel wrapped around his waist. 

Theo ran a hand through wet auburn locks, and as he opened the door further steam flowed into the dorm. He paused briefly to take in the sight and sighed as he looked at his lovers. "Are you going to keep making out or come help me unpack our stuff?" Theo asked and the pair moved apart. Draco got up to go help Theo with unpacking his trunk while you grabbed your duffel and rooted around for some pajamas, when you had grabbed an old shirt of dracos and a pair of Theos boxers you scurried into the bathroom. You slammed the door shut and leaned against it as you tried to slow your heart. Still feeling hot and bothered from your make-out session with Draco mere minutes ago, you changed into your pj's, splashed some water on your face and made your way back into the dorm. Just as you were stepping out of the bathroom, you ran into Draco, who was holding a large box wrapped in striped paper. Draco steadied you by putting his hands on your upper arms. "Everything alright?" Draco whispered. His breath tickling your skin. You nodded lightly, a blush creeping across your cheeks, as you slipped out of draco's arms and moved to put your laundry in the basket. While you were bending down you felt two arms wrapping around your waist, "Hi, Love" Theo whispered into your neck. The sound of his rugged voice made your thighs clench together something that did not go unnoticed by the man above you. Before you knew it you felt dracos lips ghost over your neck and collarbone.  You gasped, "Draco," and he nipped your shoulder lightly as he left hickey's behind. Theo must have slipped away moments before because the sound of Theo's throat clearing behind you both brought you back to reality. "Right, we're supposed to be unpacking. Sorry we were...busy" Draco's face turned pink as he spoke. You could feel your cheeks heating up as well. 

After you and Draco finish helping Theo unpack your things, Draco slips into bed saying he's had a long day. But you and Theo aren't all that tired so you pull out Uno, one of the muggle card games Draco keeps in his dorm. “Yes! How's it feel to lose, Nott?” you whisper yell after winning five out of the six games the pair of you had played.  Theo rolls his eyes and rises from the carpet to stretch, “Come on love, it's eleven thirty. Bedtime.” you relent and take his outstretched hand. Slipping into bed you curl around Theos body and fall into a peaceful sleep. 

——————♡——————————

You're met with the heavenly sight of a groggy & very much shirtless Theo Nott when you wake up. A contagious grin spreads across his face upon noticing you had woken up. Moments later draco waltzes in rather ungracefully while balancing three plates of food. After breakfast Theo leads you down to the common room, and Draco walks in with the same striped box you saw earlier. You're immediately suspicious of what the boys are up to, reluctantly you sit on the couch and watch as Theo & Draco exchange secretive looks. They sit on either side of you and Draco passes you the box looking at you expectantly, hesitantly you begin to unwrap the box. 

Once the striped paper is ripped off, you begin to open the box. “WAIT!” Theo says, wearing a panicked expression “Geez, what Theo?” you ask concerned. He doesn't answer but instead darts up to the dorm and comes back moments later holding a polaroid camera. You sigh and begin to open the box once more, this time you're not interrupted. Taking out the mounds of tissue paper, your expression melts into one of complete love. You remove the silver locket to have a closer look. You open the locket engraved on the inside are the initials D.M and T.N .

#draco malfoy x reader #theo nott x reader #theo nott x draco malfoy #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy fanfiction #theo nott fluff #theo nott x reader fluff #draco malfoy x reader fluff #draco malfoy x theodore nott #reader insert #draco malfoy #theo nott #theodore nott

[xplrvibes]

Opinion on the latest episode?

So, I watched it last night before I went to bed, woke up this morning and went through a whole busy day of work and literally just had a few minutes to sit down and think about it.

And you know what I came up with?

It was kind of weird, lol.

Not bad weird, not good weird...just weird.

I don't even quite know why I found it so weird, really. I thought the guest stars - Niki and George - were probably the best guests they've had on so far. They were both humorous without being rude/annoying/too much, they took it seriously and George, while somewhat skeptical, was very respectful in his skepticism and didn't belittle anything that was going on, they were both mostly calm and down to participate...I mean, who could ask for more?

I answered an ask about this earlier, but Niki and Colby's vibes really mesh up well, from a pseudo-psychic perspective (and before anyone has kittens - I am not even remotely hinting at some kind of weird shipping thing here. That is not the school I go to). I don't know why they had to be tied up in order to do what they do - methinks that was just Sam living out some kind of weird Sam fantasy that only Sam could explain to people (I'm kidding...maybe), but I think the energy they can create just works really well together.

I also found the whole thing at the end with the priestess and the Tarot reading very interesting, because of course I did. I find that stuff fascinating, lol.

But seriously? It is all well documented how Ashley (Pythian Priestess) gave them a ready back in January that was a) not good and b) came freakishly true, so when she sat down and gave them another reading for their next 6 months (which, this was filmed around Aug 6thish, meaning they are now almost halfway through their 6 month period here), I had good feelings that their reading was about as accurate as it could get.

And, are we allowed to point out that Sam got the fuck boy card? Or no?

I think what I found weird was just how many...rituals they jammed into this thing. "Hey, lets go sit in a Reynolds Wrap tent for no reason!" "Hey, now lets tie Niki and Colby up back to back like a couple of hostages!" "Ok, now we're gonna go downstairs and play the mirror picture game!" "Alright, now we're going to do a homemade Ouija Board followed by a homemade quasi-exorcism!"

Like, why?

Also, for their challenges...I have opinions on those (and I have asks about them, so I will get more in depth in the asks), but I guess my two main questions are:

Why was Sam so pressed about going in the basement, when he was quite content to run skipping down there by himself at 3am a few days prior?

Why did Colby decide to blindfold himself while he was alone in the woods by a bridge that he absolutely could've fallen off of? Sam never asked him to do that (unless I totally missed that part). Is he...you know...ok?

Overall, the challenges were fine. Sam's went on a little too long and included way too much of him spending the whole time thinking Colby was fucking with him while Colby was upstairs fully anticipating a cancelation and pre-apologizing to the fans for leaving Sam's ass in the basement in the first place. Colby's was just...weird. I just do not understand the point of the blindfold, or of Sam being on the Estes Method via phone. If Colby's blindfolded ass fell in the water and drowned, Sam wouldn't have known or have been able to help anyway, so what purpose did that serve, truly?

I know, they got to face their fears and do something spooky and that's fine and all...it was just weird.

At the end of the day, I found some parts of it really fun, some parts interesting, and some parts fucking weird. Overall, I'd give it a 6/10.

It's been an adventurous ride, for sure!

#asks #sam and colby #colby brock #sam golbach #snc video review #xplr

[skyward-floored]

I come bearing HUGS ❤️❤️❤️

And also a prompt for the incredibles au. How about family movie night? I’m interested to see how that goes with a family of supers lol

Ah hugs! Thank you very much :] And thanks for the prompt too, it ended up kinda silly but it was fun to write hah.

Hope you like it!

———

“Warriors can you put more ice in my soda? But uh, try not to freeze it?”

“Look you said you wanted it cold—”

“Sky move, I can’t see.”

“Make Four sit in the front, we can see over him easy!”

“Ha ha, never heard that one before— oh, it’s starting.”

“Wild! Wild hurry! It’s starting!”

At Wind’s shout Wild zipped into the living with a huge bowl of popcorn in his arms, jamming himself onto the couch in between Twilight and Hyrule, despite how there really wasn’t room for him along with Legend and Wind also crammed in on the piece of furniture.

“Wild there’s like four other chairs in here, move,” Legend growled as Wind leaned over him to grab some popcorn. “Go sit next to Sky, I can barely breathe.”

“But this is my spot,” Wild huffed, and pointedly squished himself in even tighter.

“It is not, Twi tell him—”

“Guys shh, it’s starting,” Four hissed from his spot, and Legend glared before pointedly stealing the bowl of popcorn from Wild’s arms.

“Hey!”

Wild lunged over Hyrule and grabbed for the bowl, until Twilight took it and held it out of reach of both of them, giving them each a glare.

“Guys knock it off, or Sky and Warriors’ll just send us all to bed early and we won’t get to watch anything,” Twilight said pointedly, and the two stopped struggling.

“We will, it’s true,” Warriors commented helpfully, and Legend threw some popcorn at him.

Wild snatched some out of the air as it flew by, but still refused to budge, returning Legend’s foul look.

“Here, come sit with me Wild, we can both fit,” Sky said from where he sat on the other side of the room, patting the cushion next to him.

“But that chair doesn’t reach the table,” Wild whined, but after Four glared at him again, he went over to it without fussing.

“What’s this movie about again?” Hyrule asked as the opening credits began to roll.

“Oh it’s great,” Wind said excitedly, shoving some popcorn in his mouth. “It’s all about this pirate guy who’s sister gets kidnapped by this huuuuuge bird so then he has to go save her and he meets this talking boat but the boat isn’t just a boat he’s actually—”

“Don’t spoil it Wind!” Legend interrupted, slapping a hand over his brother’s mouth. “You’ll like it Roolie, trust me— did you just lick my hand?!”

“This won’t be like that other movie we watched, will it?” Twilight asked hesitantly as Legend grabbed at Wind with an invisible hand, and Wind repeatedly blew Legend’s bangs over his eyes.

“Don’t worry Twi, there’s no dogs, and they don’t die,” Warriors assured, then a grin stretched over his face. “It’s a doggone shame, really.”

The room went silent as everyone glared over at Warriors, except for Hyrule and Wild, who almost fell off their respective seats laughing. Twilight merely gave Warriors an absolutely withering look, and pointedly turned into a wolf and faced away from him.

“Yes, terrible pun, haha, now would you all be quiet so we can actually hear the movie?” Four said with a pointed glare, and they all finally settled down and stopped talking, ready to watch the movie.

They didn’t even make it halfway through the film before an all-out war over the popcorn broke out.

#Incredibles au #oh boy #lu Wild #lu wind #lu legend #lu Hyrule #lu warriors #lu twilight #lu four #lu Sky #all the links #answers from the floor #lovely adrift in thyme #writing from the floor #incredibles au fic #time and malon are on a date night or something don’t worry about it

[tblsomedoodles]

Donnie will get Morgan some rare tomato plant or soemthing jsut watch. They deserve it for putting up with his chaos when he got kidnapped

Yes!! He totally would! and there's so many weird variations of tomatoes too that he'd probably find some really odd looking ones to give them (i saw a picture of one yesterday where a singular tomato looked like a handful of grapes glued together. so yeah, lots of weird tomatoes out there lol)

I can see it now, when Donnie meets up with them again, he's halfway through his "we're friends now because you gave me coffee" speech and is like "oh and here. It is a thank you gift. Or a bribe for friendship. whichever you wish." and just puts a pot with a young tomato plant on the table a packet of spare seeds sitting with it. (he wanted to make sure the seeds weren't all duds so he grew a few and then gave the remainder to Morgan along with the plant.) He then starts explaining about what type of funky tomato plant it is and why it's a very good thank you/bribe gift.

That's probably about the point where Morgan goes from "i'm somewhat concerned that i may have accidentally befriended a budding super villain" to "He gave me a fancy tomato plant. I don't care if he tries to take over the planet, we're friends now."

In essence, the friendship bribe worked well lol : )

Thank you!

#asks #tmnt #rottmnt #seer twins au

[wronganswerforehead]

Dune Part 2: Initial Thoughts.

Watched Dune Part two and I hate to be a contrarian, but it was just OK to me. Below is my non-spoiler take on the movie. Please excuse any grammatical errors, I'm just jotting down my thoughts.

Let's start with the positive! Here's What I enjoyed:

Cinematography and technical aspects. 

We live in a world where bad and downright comical CGI has somehow become the norm. Dune circumvents this with a combination of beautiful practical scenery and effects and technical mastery that I don't think I've seen since the Pirates of the Carribean. It allowed me to be fully immersed in the world, and I truly appreciated that.

The performances of Zendaya, Rebecca Ferguson, Javier Bardem, and Austin Butler. 

While I don't think anyone turned in an Oscar worthy performance, I do think that these 4 did really well with the material they were given. Zendaya gave a performance that was both nuanced and in moments quite fierce. Chani’s love, skepticism, and anger were all portrayed wonderfully. I absolutely loved the fluency in which she spoke the Freman language and the chemistry she had with Souheila Yacoub. With that being said, I have some notes lol. Some of the lines were both written and delivered awkwardly, her signature “scowl” became repetitive, and her eyes tended to be kind of dead in some emotional moments. But, I think that with more roles/experience under her belt, Z can become quite the force if she wants to be. Overall, I really enjoyed her performance.

Rebecca played a very believable momma bear and puppet master. She is, in my opinion, an underrated actor. There was never a moment where her performance left me wanting more. 

Javier brought effortless humor to this film. Although I will say, the humor combined with the weird pacing made the religious zealot aspect of his character less believable. It kind of felt like when we got to those parts, he was still joking. 

Austin plays a psychopath really well! No notes lol.

And now, what I didn't enjoy:

Timothee Chalamet

I know this is a very unpopular opinion, and I’ve TRIED to understand the hype, but I just…don’t. With that being said, he was good when it came to playing the “boy” Paul Atreides, but when it came time to be a fierce leader/Messiah, nothing about his portrayal was believable. Everytime he yelled or raised his voice, it completely took me out of the movie, almost to the point of laughing. Also, jumping from Zendaya, Javier Bardem, and Souheila Yacoub speaking the Freman language to Timothee speaking it, was jarring to say the least. Overall, it was an ok performance, but I feel he gets a TON of grace because of CMBYN. And I’ll leave it there.

The Pacing

It was rough, I can’t lie. One second, you're in a fast-paced action sequence, and then the next thing you know, the movie grinds to a halt via jump cut to a different, seemingly unrelated, scene where everybody is whispering.  Also, the quickness in which everyone, including the non-believers, rallied behind Paul contributed to the pacing issue. Everything either happened too fast or too slow and it never really found a balance. This movie jumps around a lot and sometimes it’s sloppily done and confusing.I know that there is a lot that has to be fit into these movies, but I feel like this aspect could’ve been handled better. Ultimately, I think it’s why the movie ended up feeling really long and sometimes repetitive to me.

Lack of Explanations

For starters, I don't like it when movies spoon feed you. BUT, in cases like Dune, where there’s a ton of pre-existing lore, I think it’s necessary to offer some explanation for the audience members who haven’t read the book. Introducing certain themes and items without any explanation whatsoever, will leave a lot of moviegoers confused and feeling like there may be a plot hole. For example, Chani’s blue scarf. If you haven’t read the book, you will have absolutely no idea why it suddenly appears halfway through the movie. You can make guesses based on prior scenes, but you’ll probably be wrong because the real reason is never introduced in the movie.

Overall, it was a decent experience. But to be honest, I don’t think it being placed in the same category as great sequels, such as the Dark knight, is warranted. I think this movie is getting a ton of grace simply because of the names attached to it and the general lack of well made action movies. It’s in the right place at the right time.

Well, that’s it for now. Hope you enjoyed the read!

#dune part 2 #zendaya #timothée chalamet #rebecca ferguson #austin butler #javier bardem #dune part two #denis villeneuve

[disasterbijamietartt]

Reasons Jamie and Keeley should be endgame

Hello everyone, I present to you my probably not comprehensive post full of breadcrumbs why I believe Jamie and Keeley should end up together.

Note: As my blog description says, I ship Jamie x Keeley x Roy, but that is in the little canon divergent world in my head where Roy got his shit together. Looking at the current canon, Roy’s just not at the point where I would want him to be in a relationship with either Keeley or Jamie or anyone to be honest. Could I change my mind if he actually gets the development that is teased in this article and my next exciting meta post titled »Maybe I’m delusional and drank too much wine, but this is why Roy Kent being a closeted queer man explains EVERYTHING« is not actually delusional? Yes. But for the time being, Jamie x Keeley is the outcome I’m hoping for.

So, but now onto the reasons, not in any particular order – I tried to make it comprehensible, but I gave up halfway through, since it took too much time and just word vomited lol

It won’t make sense for Jamie to end up with anyone else 

There is of course the option, that Jamie isn’t meant to end up with someone by the end of season 3, but that is an option I decided to ignore lol.

Jamie is a too central and important character on the show to end up with some random person, that hasn’t been introduced on the show yet. That would just be really poor writing (and we’re talking about the show that set up Sam & Rebecca in the first season in a way that was easy to miss but was so obvious in hindsight). So now let’s take a look at possible love interests for Jamie that are not Keeley.

The only person aside of Keeley that he has enough backstory and interaction with, so a romance subplot would have some sustenance, is (and I don't believe I actually write this as something that could legit happen and doesn't only live in fangirls minds) Roy – I know that a lot of Jamie x Keeley shippers don’t particularly like Roy x Jamie and a lot of Roy’s behaviour right now is a red flag for any kind of relationship, especially with Jamie, but there is not one other person Jamie has a deep and complicated emotional back story with, that could be turned into a romance. NOT ONE.

Which is actually, if they don’t want to feature two queer storylines this season, a very good argument supporting Jamie x Keeley (and if they actually go down the queer Roy and Jamie road, Jamie x Keeley x Roy is endgame, I do not make the rules – nobody puts Keeley in a corner).

Since they want to build up Roy’s friendship with Jamie, and there is the Zava stuff and possibly a resolution of the »Ted dumped me«-subplot, more ManCity stuff and dealing with his father, him hopefully playing a crucial part in Nate's redemption, it is hard to imagine how they could wriggle in another subplot for Jamie where he meets someone totally new, falls in love and gets a convincing happily ever after. They want to get Phil finally his Emmy nomination this season – see this tweet – so he’ll have a lot of good material, but at this point of the narrative it makes more sense to address the loose ends that still need to be tied up, instead of introducing something new.

And his relationship with Keeley is one of those loose ends that needs to be tied up – could they do this with both of them ending up as best friends? Sure, but there are a lot of reasons why they could or should be endgame instead.

So, anyways, his love interest has to be someone he already knows at this point of the story, since ending up with some random person simply wouldn’t feel like a good and rewarding story for a main character.

But I can’t think of any woman who would make sense for me, so let’s look at »age appropriate women he canonically knows« to hammer the point home that no one except Keeley makes sense.

Rebecca – some people suggested that because of the »shite in nineing armour« prophecy, but … I think Rebecca and Jamie had one actual interaction in the whole show so far (Christmas, when she rolls her eyes about him not knowing Secret Santa) and it would not make sense for Rebecca to dump Sam and then start dating another footballer who’s roughly half her age. They could possibly construct something about bonding over their mutual distrust of Zava, but a romance makes no sense at all for either of them. What I’d rather see with him and Rebecca: Jamie’s relationship with Keeley and his well being were collateral damage in Rebecca’s revenge – and I’m sure she deep down knows how she fucked him over and took him back without argument because she felt guilty. So the fact, that she used him as a pawn, doing something unforgivable to him even though he didn’t deserve it, actually being acknowledged by her would be nice.

Bex – some people theorise that Jamie is actually Diane’s father and not Rupert and while I generally support everything that hurts Rupert, there is not enough actual set up for them to work, even if she cheated on Rupert with Jamie and he is the father. Like, we virtually know nothing about Bex as a person and even though I’m curious about their backstory, it would make no sense to give them a romantic subplot. (I could rather see Jamie telling Rebecca that Bex is actually a gold digger manipulating Rupert and not another naive woman that fell under his spell – and their backstory is definitely a loose end that should be tight up)

Sassy – LOL no I can’t even think of any far-fetched reason that would make this even remotely plausible

Sharon – When I asked ChatGPT who Jamie’s love interest in the upcoming season could be, it was really adamant that he has feelings for his sports therapist, but that would be just as unethical as Michelle and Jake, so NO.

Shandy – she is too new and not well enough developed to make sense as a romantic partner for Jamie in my opinion. And their short interaction in the background didn’t look like the show wanted to set up a big romance to come, but to show that Keeley was upset/jealous.

So, I hope I didn’t forget anyone, but … yeah, there is no real romance material for him with any woman on the show, except for Keeley.

With Keeley we have history and they still share a strong bond and just looking at their interactions this season, we have both being awkward, shy and flustered around each other AND as pointed out above Keeley being upset about Shandy talking to him. We also know from the trailer that he goes to her place looking sad/anxious and them hugging. Which all looks like romance arc set-up.

Jamie’s confession

Why have Jamie confess to Keeley at the end of season 2 and still have him have feelings for her, if it is meant to go nowhere?

He is too important a character to just have confessed to cause drama and tension for Roy and Keeley and they could have found something else to further complicate his relationship with Roy. Roy's irrational jealousy of Jamie didn't need any more fodder.

Another important point: When Keeley tells Roy about the confession, she doesn’t address her feelings at all – if she had no lingering feelings for Jamie, she could have told Roy so. But she didn’t.

Also, this happened in 2x10, which would have been 2x8, if Apple had not ordered two extra episodes, in other words mirroring 1x8, the episode Keeley and Jamie hooked up last, even more than it already did.

Another thing: Keeley states in this episode that she wants her death to nourish people and in his confession Jamie tells her how much an impact she had on his life, essentially telling her how having her in his live nourished him.

In other words: Jamie gives her exactly what she needs.

(Also, as shown in 2x2 when Roy catches her wanking to the video of him crying, Keeley values emotional openness and vulnerability – and that is something Jamie gives her even in season 1, before he has all his growth; it is the reason for their hook-up in 1x8, since his openness und vulnerability made her feel special and important.)

Keeley obviously still has feelings for Jamie 

Like, she never stopped caring for him, which is obvious by all their interactions after their break-up (the next day when she runs into Jamie’s rebound is awkward, but she still seems genuinely amused by his “You’re welcome. I like to make people feel good.” bit) and how comfortable they still were around each other.

And how she was upset Jamie deleted her number in 2x2, the way she talks about him and just the way she checks him out and looks at him.

But most importantly: Keeley didn’t dump him because she didn’t love him anymore – she dumped him because he wasn’t showing accountability.

And if that boy has learned one thing it is accountability. He has grown so much since season 1 and while I generally dislike the idea of "gifting" a guy the girl he loves once he gets his shit together, it feels like they deserve a second chance.

Especially since messing with their relationship was one thing Rebecca wanted to do to mess with the team and — even though I think her advice to Keeley in the restroom was genuine — it never really sat well with me how much a role she played in their breakup. And the way she compared Jamie with Rupert like, no, Jamie is 23 and immature, but that doesn’t mean he can’t grow and that he will never show accountability for his mistakes. The fact that Rupert’s a piece of shit doesn’t mean that Jamie couldn’t have learned if Keeley and him just had an honest conversation about it.

Also, let’s look at this quote from Keeley: “Whenever I break up with someone, I spend months questioning it, wondering if I made a huge fucking mistake. But you have really helped me to feel good about this decision, just by... being you.”

This is almost lampshading that she will do exactly this: wondering whether she made a fucking mistake dumping him. Since she was being impulsive, running from issues instead of constructively addressing them and not giving Jamie a chance to fix his behaviour before breaking things off.

I honestly don’t blame Jamie for having a rebound since for him the break up came out of the blue and must have hurt a lot.

(Like, his first instinct, when he learns about the Roy x Keeley break up, is to comfort Roy because he knows how it feels to be dumped by Keeley - which kind of implies he would have wanted some comfort he didn’t get. Rebecca really got what she wanted: every progress Jamie had made so far was undone when Keeley dumped him - but he never let Keeley feel this, instead he used the team as an outlet for his pain and anger, and still got back on a path of growth with Keeley’s help by “Two Aces”. Just to be sent back to Man City. It hurts so much to think about how absolutely awful he must have felt, basically losing EVERYTHING.)

But anyway, both of them got the impression that the other got over their break-up in less than 24 hours.

Which is a big painful misunderstanding that in my opinion needs to be addressed.

Jamie x Keeley are a healthier couple than Roy x Keeley 

Looking at Roy x Keeley throughout the second season, it gets painfully obvious that they have problems in their communication. They both rather bottle up their emotions and ignore issues instead of talking about them (see Jamie’s confession). They only address issues if they don’t have another choice. (see “Headspace”) They seem to be unaware what the other one actually wants/needs (see "Inverting the pyramid of success")

This is NOT a good basis for a relationship.

(And honestly, I tried to explain the appeal of Roy x Keeley to someone and … I couldn’t come up with anything except “They’re grumpy & sunshine and … hot together? Sometimes they support each other, but most of the time they’re communication sucks? They’re good in theory but bad in execution?”)

Jamie on the other hand was even in season 1 fully capable of being open and vulnerable with Keeley, which is something season 3 Roy is still unable to do.

Another thing: Keeley's advice in “The Signal” is actually pretty toxic and says a lot about Roy’s lacking anger management (and her fear of rejection) – like, really, agreeing to everything your angry boyfriend says until he calms down? This shouldn’t be necessary in a healthy relationship!

And in “Headspace” and “Midnight Train to Royston” it gets obvious that she has problems telling Roy stuff that could potentially anger him.

And also in “Headspace” Roy does not get that Keeley felt overwhelmed by his clinginess until she exploded in his face (bonus: Jamie’s accidental relationship advice saved Roy x Keeley). But in “Do the Rightest Thing”, Jamie was able to sense her bad mood the moment he stepped in a room with her and she didn’t had to tell him.

Point is: Jamie’s superpower is empathy – in the first season he often used it to find peoples weaknesses and which buttons he had to press to get Roy to explode. But in dealing with people who have difficulties expressing their feelings, it is a very valuable ability to, you know, be able to sense when something is off or to lift them up when they need it. And by now Jamie is so far on his emotional growth journey, that he would work so much better with Keeley than Roy ever did.

The only problem: What about Roy?

My upcoming Roy meta post is basically the result of my reflections about how this would work with Roy’s character arc, so I won’t go into depth here and list the myriad of reasons why I believe Roy is queer and nothing else makes sense.

But basically I could picture Roy having a realisation similar to him leaving Chelsea, that he regrets not staying with Keeley, but that in the long run it was the right decision, because it led him to a place that was actually better for him. (And honestly, that is the kind of realisation I want Keeley and Jamie to have once they get back together - that breaking up instead of working on their relationship may be something they regret, but that it is also the reason they both got the growth they needed to become the best versions of themselves.)

And while the break up with Keeley is framed to be a mistake by basically everyone, that could be there to throw viewers off Jamie x Keeley endgame, similar to the way the writers made it look like Rebecca was texting with Ted on Bantr before we got the Sam reveal.

But my main argument agains Roy x Keeley endgame is, that the article linked above basically says that Jamie helps Roy to grow emotionally in return for their training sessions. But would Roy x Keeley be a satisfying endgame, if they got back together because Jamie was Roy’s wingman, teaching him to be in touch with his emotions? Like essentially: “Your ex-boyfriend, who is still in love with you, taught me to be a better version of myself and to get in touch with my emotions, so that I now can be a good boyfriend to you. Please take me back.”

Would it be a satisfying story for Jamie to be the glue that brings the woman he loves and the man he admires back together while he gets … well, not nothing, since he likely would get their friendship in return, but would it be really satisfying if he saves the main couple’s romance and ends up without a romance of his own?

(Or it means Jamie x Keeley x Roy is endgame, again, I do not make the rules – but Roy x Keeley? Nope, no way, I don’t see it.)

How it could happen

Considering that this season mirrors the first season – with Rebecca still hellbent to get revenge on Rupert but this time with the opposite goal (which likely will cause her to – almost – reach her season 1 goal of destroying the club/team, before a shite in nineing armour fixes everything) Jamie x Keeley endgame would just make so much sense to me.

Like the things that broke apart in the first season get fixed and heal and get better.

And if Keeley’s and Jamie’s second chance romance arc starts in 3x4 (as I have theorised here) it would mirror their breakup in 1x4.

And honestly, it would be so hilarious to get a "You can’t get mad. You broke up with me!" callback to 1x5, if Roy finds out about Jamie & Keeley in 3x5 lmao (something like picking Jamie up for training and running into Keeley)

But if they want to go with a bit more slow burn, I can picture Jamie offering Keeley to help her get back together with Roy, since he believes Keeley is actually over him and wants to make her happy by fixing her relationship with Roy. While at the same time Keeley is questioning, whether breaking up with Jamie was a mistake, and realises that she actually rather wants to get back with Jamie, but is unsure whether he actually still loves her, since he wants to help her to get back with Roy, yadda yadda, until they finally both fess up.

Cue the happily ever after!

(And now I’ll wait until Wednesday, when something I totally didn’t expect happens and I have to settle with the sad truth that I made myself a clown in a tin hat x’D)

#jamie x keeley #my meta #jamie tartt #i don't dare to tag this keeley since I don't want to argue with r*oy x k*eeley shippes