BUT THIS WAS SO CUTE - Tumblr Posts

Had a big flop of a date and I'm sad.

Need a bff Yoongi that listens to your wallowing and tells you you don't need to be getting your feelings hurt by other dumb boys because he's RIGHT HERE and he's ready to give you everything you need )))):

❀ Pairing: Yoongi x f. reader

❀ Summary: You’re tired of the revolving door of boys in your life. Yoongi is tired of watching you nurse feelings in the quiet of your apartment. 

❀ Word Count: 1,406

❀ Genre: Friends to something more, a little angst, fluff

❀ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately. 

❀ Warnings: A little bit of angst, descriptions of loneliness and frustrations on dating, a little bit of insecurity, Hali’s Obnoxious Takes on Dating in 2023, a cute lil kiss, nothing too crazy

❀ Published: August 18, 2023

❀ A/N: Pardon me while I wax poetic about the current state of dating, especially with all these damn apps in the world. I hope this was able to capture how you felt in a way that feels authentic and then shatter it and make it better by offering a very sweet Yoongi ready to date you. I am so sorry your date was shitty, genuinely this is why I do not go on them!!!! This is currently unedited.

❀ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

| Masterlist | Ask | Hali’s Happy Agust |

Outside of your apartment window, the world is washed in gold. As the sun sets, you wish you could appreciate it a little more. The world looks beautiful outside, buildings like hammered bronze in the light, curtains lit up like a flame as they catch the rays of sun.

You look away from it, staring at your TV that is turned off instead. It’s silent in your apartment, the hum of the refrigerator the only noise. With your legs crossed on the couch, you tap your nails against the steaming mug of tea in your hands.

Sitting. Waiting. 

In another life, you’d perhaps be out on a date on account of the nice evening. The cool autumn air drifts through the cracked window, carrying the scent of possibility.

The only dates you’ve been on usually go two ways: they end in blocked numbers after uncomfortable interactions, or hurt feelings after being strung along for a few dates before eventually sending unanswered texts. 

It makes sense that dating is hard, but no one ever told you it would be this hard, trying to swim in a rushing river of dating apps, men who use therapy-speak to excuse their bad behavior, and people who have no accountability for others feelings. 

The sound of the front door opening brings you out of your melancholy daze. Yoongi walks in with a bag of takeout, immediately filling your apartment with the smell of fried wontons and the distinct hint of soy sauce. 

For the first time that day, you grin, unfolding from your spot on the couch and heading to wear Yoongi throws you a nod, already unbagging the food. You move wordlessly in tandem, grabbing drinks from your fridge with extra sauce and napkins. By the time you’ve returned to the counter to sit, Yoongi is already on his self-appointed stool, holding out his hand for chopsticks. 

This is what you need, you think as you pass them over. Someone who can speak to you without words, someone who just knows. Knows that when you sit down next to him, you need him to lean over and press a gentle kiss to the top of your head. It’s affection between friends, but it makes your heart flip. It always does, and you always ignore it.

“Talk to me about it,” Yoongi says, picking up a saucy strip of beef. “I want to hear about it.”

He doesn’t. Yoongi doesn’t say these things for his benefit. He says them because he knows that you’re too afraid of being inconvenient or annoying to speak the thoughts rolling around your head. His instincts are spot on - you do want to let out what’s inside of you, and the gentle encouragement that he wants to hear it does the trick.

“I guess I just don’t know what the point is,” you start, staring at your rice. “I really want a partner and someone that I can do life with or whatever so I’m less lonely, but I’m also so sick of first dates and having to play a game of social chess.”

“Dating in this era is impossible,” Yoongi agrees. “There’s a lot of very unempathetic and unaware individuals.”

“Exactly. Or people think they have endless options and it’s like, just because someone is in your DMs telling you that you look nice doesn’t mean that’s a potential suitor. It just means someone thinks you’re hot.” 

“What do you mean?”

“Okay, so the last guy basically told me that he wanted to keep his options open because he has options. And it got me thinking: do people actually have all these options for life partners, or is it just people who are giving them attention online?”

“I see.”

“Online clout is not the same as a relationship option,” you conclude. “And I’m tired of people confusing the two. Or getting people who think it’s cool not to care about their partner or who use weaponized therapy words at me to avoid accountability. I had some guy tell me he was setting a boundary for me on monogamy and that me being interested in a one-on-one relationship was a violation of his feelings and that I need to be open.”

Yoongi stops eating and looks at  you. His mouth presses in a firm line, the only sign that he’s truly irritated. “Did he say that before you started to go on dates?”

“Nope. Only later when I became invested.”

“Then it’s bullshit,” Yoongi scoffs, shaking his head. “You’re interested in different things, not violating a boundary. What an asshole.”

“They all are.”

Groaning, you press your forehead to your palm, supporting the weight of your head with your elbow on the counter. You hate this. Hate the way it all makes you feel, hate that you want something so bad but it seems just out of your reach, hate that you’d love to find someone like Yoongi.

Once, you’d thought about asking him. You’d decided that your friendship was more important, because without him, who is there? 

Now you look for someone - anyone - to do the bare minimum. To not make it feel like you’re searching for a needle in a haystack the size of Olympus, or like you’re being irrational for wanting human decency. 

“I’m not,” Yoongi says softly. You hum a question, confused as to what he’s talking about. “An asshole,” he clarifies. “I’m not an asshole.” 

“Well I know that. But I’m not dating you.”

“So try it, then.”

You lift your head from your palm, looking at him sharply. Yoongi isn’t much in the way of poking fun at you - not in a way that is really at your expense. He doesn’t seem to be joking now, staring at you with honest, brown eyes, chewing his lip. 

“What?” 

“I said what I said.” He drops his gaze for a second - perhaps towards your lips - and meets your eyes again. Your heart speeds up, thudding against your ribcage. “So try dating me.”

“Are you making fun of me?”

He scowls. “Of course I’m not. I’m being serious.”

“You want to go on a date with me?” He nods. “Why?”

Blowing out a long exhale of air, Yoongi shrugs. The golden light from the sunset hits him at just the right moment, then. He’s wreathed in gold, a shining beacon of hope. Of an answer. Of something more. You lick your lips as Yoongi considers his answer. 

“Because I like you, for starters,” he says, giving you a look. A look that means he thinks you’ve asked a silly question. “Because I think that you are wonderful and creative, and a gentle soul. Because I think you deserve someone who is interested in working on something with you, and who won’t flee at the first sign of conflict. Because I empathize with you, I enjoy doing life with you, and because you’re beautiful.”

Any worry you’ve had about your feelings for Yoongi comes to a standstill. There, in your apartment, in the honey-haze of evening, you drop your chopsticks and press forward. Curious, a little bold, a little terrified. Yoongi sucks in a sharp breath of air when he realizes what you’re doing, but he lets you anyway. 

Yoongi’s lips are soft. He tastes a little like soy sauce and sweet and sour, but you don’t care. Your heart thrums in your chest and your hands shake when you lift them to cradle his face. His hands go to your waist, holding you confidently, like they were made to fit there. 

Warmth blooms inside of your chest, unfurling dizzy petals as you pull your lips away from his. You don’t know where you got the bravery, but as your eyes flutter open to meet his gaze, deep and unwavering, you realize you don’t know why you were ever scared to consider him. 

Yoongi has always been right there. Holding your hand when you were lonely, offering a joke when you were sad. There have been countless times you could have had this, you realize. Little moments where the tension grew too thick or your gazes lingered too long. 

It’s only until now that someone was brave enough to say something. 

“Okay,” you breathe, fingers gentle against his warm face. He smiles, eyes crinkling. “It’s really that easy, huh?”

“It always was. I was always right here.”

You press your lips against his again, chaste and sweet. 

“You’re right. You were always right here.” 

physical touch - osamu dazai

flufftober 2024 - week 1 | flufftober masterlist

paring: dazai x gn!reader

cw: not proofread, very short, dazai is lovesick, dazai is also sick, reader is a lil mean but all in good heart, just taking care of a (love)sick man <3

a/n: one of my shortest fics!! and i'm very happy with it :3 hope you enjoy, i finished the chuuya fic and this fic in the same day what 😭 this was scheduled to be posted the next day so no double posting </3

word count: 360

“come baackkkk!!” dazai’s voice strains as he whines for you, his beloved partner, to come back to bed. that is, if you were there with him before that. as much as you wish you were in his arms, he’s sick. and it’s contagious, but you’re taking care of him since you know the idiot would continue to neglect his health.

“no, dear. you’re sick. if we both get sick, who will take care of you?” you respond in a somewhat tired tone, a sign starting and ending your statements. dazai merely whines out again.

“but what if we were sick togetherrrr? wouldn’t that be so romantic?” he giggles to himself like a lovesick teenager, even though he’s anything but. well, maybe he’s a lovesick individual, but still.

you sigh for what’s probably the hundredth time today. in the past hour, even. you sit down beside him on the bed, one hand holding a tray with some things on it, and the other resting on his head.

“you’re really something, y’know? and no, it wouldn’t be romantic to be sick together. stupid.” your fingers tangle within his messy hair, your nails gently scratching his scalp in hopes to ease the pressure on his head from his sickness. you can hear him hum in contentment, a soft smile on his lips. it’s a refreshing sight, compared to his usual cocky smirk. nevertheless, he just wants to be loved.

and you can respect that. you do respect that.

you shuffle closer, letting him rest his head on your lap. you keep massaging his scalp, until his body doesn’t look or feel as stiff. you lean down enough to catch a glimpse of his face for a moment, expecting to see him looking right back at you. but for what seems like the first time in the past week he’s been ill, he’s asleep. his lashes rest again his cheeks, not strained nor forced. it looks natural, he looks carefree for once. that’s a change you’re more than glad to see.

“sleep well, love.” you press a soft his to his forehead, continuing to massage his scalp with what he calls, your “magical touch”.

taglist: @laughingfcx + open (send an ask if you'd like to be added! :D)

likes, reblogs and comments are appreciated!! <3

© fishii-writes 2024

Aww Emry with his poor broken heart

And I agree Aspen. Humans are frustrating when they're pining

The Stray Spirit Excerpt: Aspen Ships EmCal

For context: Emry’s just done his lil “look at me Cal I’m playing music for you under the glow-worms, isn’t this romantic, haha oh god please fall back in love with me why have I done this to myself” trick.

This is what follows:

Aspen reappeared in human form just as Emry emerged from the tunnel, the warmth of the midday light feeling less reassuring than it should have. 

  “So?” they whispered and glanced ahead at Cal, who was leading them down a wide dirt road. “Did the music work?”

Emry shook his head.

  “I’d forget about it, Aspen,” he whispered back. “Really, it was a stupid mistake.”

  “So she didn’t like it?” Aspen scratched their head. “Well- okay, there’s other things you could try. There are these birds that, when they find their mate, they do these dances-“

  “Aspen.”

  “-or you could build something for her, maybe with some twigs and flower petals?”

  “Aspen.” Emry stopped walking. “Drop it.”

Aspen searched his face for a moment, then trudged ahead to join Cal.

  “Humans are so frustrating.”

TSS Taglist under the cut:

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