#I am in fact. thinking about how I can make this look like a pretty header
Text
l(over)
when someone else flirts with you in front of them.
heizou, wanderer, neuvillette ♡ gn!reader
warnings: not proofread, neuvillette may be ooc, wanderer is a little crazy 😊
notes: i played heizous hangout quest and he got me 😭😭
frankly, heizou is amused.
"you're beautiful," some random stranger states, "do you happen to be free this weekend?"
you blink in confusion, glancing back and forth between the detective and the strange person. does he not see the way heizou's hand is linked with yours?
"well, someone clearly isn't a detective," heizou states, not bothering to lower the volume of his voice. when the person still doesn't quite understand what heizou means, he lifts your laced hands up to eye-level, emphasizing the fact that he's not letting go anytime soon.
"please don't interrupt," the stranger states, suddenly feigning ignorance to heizou's presence.
"oh!" heizou exclaims, unbothered. "sorry about that!" you can tell by the look on his face and the tone of his voice that shikanoin heizou is, in fact, not sorry. he's not sorry at all.
heizou brings the back of your hand up to his lips, staring directly at the stranger whilst doing so. still, the random man does not budge.
"what's up with this guy?" heizou mumbles, loud enough for just you to hear. you laugh, and heizou can't seem to tear his eyes away from you, his gaze belonging wholly to your existence.
when the stranger glares at him, heizou merely shrugs, a smirk fixed onto his face. the oblivious person then turns to you, a gentle smile on his face.
"might i have the honor of knowing your name? i am kenzaburou kadenokouji, and seeing you has blessed me with the inspiration to write my greatest upcoming novel: 'i was reincarnated as the raiden shogun's plane of euthymia, where i did nothing for 500 years before finally meeting the love of my life in the middle of the city?!'"
your mouth hangs agape, flabbergasted at this surreal experience.
heizou, however, is not fazed in the slightest. "is this based off of true events?"
"do not interrupt an artist's craft," kadenokouji replies, before extending a hand towards your free one.
so he knows i'm holding their hand, is all heizou thinks. without another thought, the detective pushes the writer's palm away, tugging you towards him.
"you're going to need to find inspiration from someone else! my intuition tells me that this isn't going to work out," heizou declares, his thumb coming to rub the back of your hand, as if he's trying to reassure you.
(you think that it's more for him, though. because although heizou is a self-assured, confident man, he is sometimes shrouded deeply in fear, swayed by the same emotions that make him so human, so lovely.)
(it also doesn't help that you adore novels. a majority of heizou's worries are attributed to how you devour those absurd reincarnation stories.)
"no, no... together," kadenokouji trails off, dismissing heizou with the flick of his hand. "together, we will defy fate! and with you, beautiful stranger, i will publish the greatest novel known to inazuma!"
"he's delusional," heizou mutters, but it sounds as if he's more impressed than incredulous.
"i have a boyfriend," you reply, still recovering from shock. "he's right next to me."
kadenokouji takes it the wrong way. "wow, you move pretty fast! although we just met, and i still don't know your name, i am completely fine with this sudden turn of events!"
"wow," heizou mutters to himself, almost amazed, "this guy's pretty good."
"he's like the opposite of you," you whisper, leaning closer towards heizou, "completely oblivious."
that gives heizou an idea.
"sorry pal, but they only like detectives," he declares.
"that's okay! i've been meaning to write a detective novel, you know, i am always switching things up!" kadenokouji exclaims, not taking the hint (but it's not even a hint, it's a full blown answer).
"oh, really? have you ever heard of shikanoin heizou?"
you and heizou exchange not-so-discreet glances (it's not like kadenokouji notices, anyway). heizou winks at you, as if urging you to stay quiet so he can get the spotlight in a novel that he's always been dreaming of.
"yes, yes! i love doushin shikanoin's work—in fact, i've been meaning to ask him for some information regarding his famous intuition! i plan on basing the main character of that novel off of him, really!"
"that sounds great! you know, doushin shikanoin believes that he needs the publicity, so your novel would be the perfect match!"
"is that really so? that's incredible! i must reach out to him immediately!" kadenokouji says, his attention belonging wholly to this newfound idea.
"i can relay the message to him," heizou replies, "what would you like to ask?"
"yes, thank you! please ask him if he's willing to meet me outside the tenryou commission for an hour or two for me to ask questions! and if he's willing to tell me about his intuition and how it works! my novel's main character will also have something akin to his intuition, but not exactly because i am always original and meaningful with my work—"
"alright, i will!" heizou declares proudly, "he'll hear of it by today!"
"thank you, kind sir! if i might be so bold to inquire, what is your name?" kadenokouji asks, suddenly becoming heizou's biggest fan whilst forgetting about your presence. how the tables have turned.
"shikanoin heizou," he states, the smile on his face never wavering. "my intuition tells me you're going to fall to the floor in utter shock!"
his intuition, as always, is correct. kadenokouji collapses to the floor as if he had just witnessed the most terrible thing, all the color draining from his face while his jaw hangs wide open.
"d-doushin shikanoin?!"
"that's me! also, could you include me in the novel's credits? you know, being a detective isn't always just about skill. in this day and age, we need publicity! we need a name for ourselves!"
kadenokouji faints.
"did you come from another world?" someone asks. "'cause you look otherworldly."
"that was ridiculous," wanderer mutters, "and redundant."
"is he bothering you, your highness?" the person queries, taking a step towards you. their hand reaches out for yours, as if they're trying to take you away, but wanderer is quick to intervene.
he blocks you with his figure, the vision on his chest beginning to glow vividly as a gust of wind rushes through the akademiya's library, sending papers and books flying. scholars panic as their research projects flutter all across the marble floor, and usually, that'd be enough to deter a sane man.
unfortunately for you, your admirer (the other one) is no sane man. you suppose that you attract a certain group of people.
"so you think you're a big shot 'cause you have a vision, huh?" the stranger asks, unimpressed.
"hah! you don't even know who you're talking to," wanderer replies, clenching his fists. he takes a step toward your admirer, the air around him becoming tense and unwelcoming as it begins to manifest into something grim, something violent.
you're not in the mood for a suspension right now.
"wanderer!" you exclaim, tugging at his sleeve. "let's go somewhere else. this guy's just weird."
"you go first. i have things to deal with," wanderer replies, irritated. but the way he looks at you doesn't quite match the tone in his voice, because when the wanderer's cornflower pupils fixate on you, they melt. you mold him into something quiet, something lovely, when you do so much as exist.
briefly, the wind brushes past your face, kissing you with its tender touch.
(all you have to do is exist, and that'll be more than enough for him.)
"he's not worth your time," you say, not releasing your hold on the puppet's wrist. even though wanderer could easily escape your grip, he chooses not to—instead, he basks in your touch, inching closer towards you, letting you hold the strings of his artificial limbs to move him as you please.
wanderer relinquishes himself to you. wholly. and he trusts you with his fate, with his severed strings.
"whatever."
his severed string manifests anew, wrapping around his pinky and yours, turning red—not red from blood, but rather, from love—and knotting.
you are bound to him.
and then he gives in.
(he does a lot of that when it comes to you.)
"surrendering already, huh?" the stranger asks, clearly not knowing his place. "i knew you were nothing but bark."
oh, you think, sighing, this guy's an idiot!
"does the akademiya accept anyone who applies?" wanderer asks, contemplating murder. still, he doesn't release himself from your hold.
"that's what i was thinking when i saw you. leave us alone!"
a category 5 hurricane begins to brew in the akademiya library at the word "us." scholars begin to evacuate the premises whilst the insane man stands amidst it all, still trying his best to court you despite getting blown away.
i tried my best, you tell yourself, glancing away.
you let go of wanderer's hand, and then you close your eyes.
"let me know when you're done," you mutter, voice drowned by the whistle of the winds and the screams of scholars whose projects are getting engulfed by the storm.
wanderer, of course, hears you. he can always hear you, picking out your voice from the cacophony, taking the sound and placing it deep within his empty chest, letting it resonate and replay there. instead of a heartbeat, wanderer has your voice echoing throughout his torso, fusing into his artificial ribs.
he is bound to you.
a breeze wisps past your nose. even with the whirling winds and the threat of suspension lingering around your figure, no harm ever comes your way.
you are in the eye of the hurricane.
the eye of the beholder. it melts.
neuvillette is flabbergasted.
back in fontaine, he had the luxury of comfort. everyone knew that the two of you were together, so he never had to deal with someone trying to court you, much less in front of him.
this is how he experiences culture shock. not by the customs of other nations, but rather, by the sheer audacity that some people have. especially when your hand is laced tightly with his.
"i think... i think..." the stranger trails off, his voice filled with an adoration that makes neuvillette's stomach churn. "... i'm getting lost in your eyes, beautiful."
the stranger reaches his hand out to give you a rose, a dashing grin on his face. you smile awkwardly.
"sorry, i'm taken."
"taken... by my good looks?" the stranger asks, putting a hand under his face to emphasize his features. neuvillette squeezes your hand.
"no, they are taken by me. we are partners," neuvillette explains, his tone remaining polite.
"partners in work?"
"yes, but—" neuvillette starts, but is quickly interrupted. you spare him an endearing glance, charmed by his honesty.
the tips of his pointed ears begin to blossom red. again, he squeezes your hand.
"no, we are married," you state blandly, and the stranger's gaze flickers over to your hands, searching for a ring. neuvillette doesn't like the look on the stranger's face; it's evident in the way the iudex narrows his eyes, the way he steps forward a little even though he'd usually try to avoid confrontation.
"i could get you a ring," the stranger says, clearly not getting the hint, "and you wouldn't have to lie about being married."
"there is nothing we owe to you that requires us to prove our marriage. we are married, and that is all you need to know," neuvillette declares firmly, his tone becoming harsh.
"but words alone don't mean anything," the stranger replies with a shrug.
neuvillette furrows his brows, clearly stumped by the stranger's statement. he disagrees—words don't mean everything, but they are definitely worth something.
"just back off," you suddenly chime in, tugging neuvillette closer to you. he lets you string him along to your whims, allowing his figure to inch towards yours, finding its place by your side.
"i'm not interested in you. i already have a lover."
the stranger rolls his eyes.
"ugh. i didn't even like you anyway."
neuvillette frowns. "now that is completely incorrect. just moments prior, you were—"
"just shut up!" the stranger yells, not even bothering to listen to neuvillette's explanation.
clouds begin to form.
"let's go, neuvillette," you say, rubbing the back of the iudex's hand with your thumb. "don't worry too much about that guy."
he looks at you, and the sun emerges.
"you're right. thank you, [name]."
a ring dangles from the silver chain on your neck; it's a vibrant shade of blue.
it glows.
"and you wanted to try this land's water, right?"
he lets you string him along, a gentle smile on his face.
"yes," he vows, "i do."
his hand slots perfectly into yours, and the world is engulfed by a radiant glow.
#genshin impact#genshin impact x reader#genshin x reader#genshin x gender neutral reader#genshin#heizou x reader#heizou x you#shikanoin heizou#genshin heizou#neuvillette x you#neuvillette#neuvillette x reader#neuvillette x y/n#wanderer x you#wanderer x reader#wanderer genshin
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let me just say i am obsessed with your work and i have a small concept with pre-outbreak!joel that i’d like to share. you’re welcome to develop this as a full fic, a headcanon or even just discuss it.
joel has been dating you for a while, it’s his first serious relationship since sarah’s mom left and needless to say he’s very much in love. but being with you comes with a lot of pressure. as i said, it’s his first real relationship and he tries to be the absolute best partner for you. in the beginning you don’t pay attention to it because what you have is new and of course you do a lot to make it work but as time passes, you realize it’s a bit more serious than that.
he literally drives himself crazy trying to be the perfect partner. to the point where he’s stressing himself out or feeling guilty about things that are either normal or out of his control. for example, let’s say it’s your birthday and he wants to take you to a nice restaurant. you happen to be late (maybe an issue with his car or traffic) and lose the reservation. it’s okay, you assure him it’s fine but he feels terrible and just trying to fix it. in a similar way, if you ever have an argument and you decide to leave to clear your mind, it will bring the worst anxiety out of him. it’s all small things that pile up until you realize that he’s actually terrified he isn’t enough because if he wasn’t enough to make the mother of their child stay, why would you?
you can choose how you work it out so he feels more secure in the relationship or tell me what you think of this, i’d love to hear your opinion 🙂
AN | Okay but this is so soft and heartbreaking at the same time. But there is a happy ending! Enjoy ❤️
Pairing | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader
Warnings | Language
Word Count | 2.7k
Masterlist | Joel, Main
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
Joel was standing on your doorstep, clutching a bouquet in his hand. He felt like he was shaking and sweating and going to throw up all at once. Needless to say he was nervous. It had been so long since he’d been on a date, let alone a first date. And not just any first date, but a first date with you.
You, that had almost knocked him over, literally and metaphorically, in the grocery store and left him feeling like a scared teenager. You’d been the one to ask him out, in fact, but he was still somehow convinced that you’d made some kind of mistake or were going to change your mind.
He rocked back and forth on his heels for a few moments as he listened for your footsteps. When he heard you unlock the door and slowly open it, his heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest.
“Joel,” your pretty lips pulled in a big smile as you looked him over, “you’re here!”
“Of course I am,” he replied sweetly, a soft twang to his warm drawl, “did you think I wouldn’t show up?”
“I don’t know,” you admitted sheepishly, your face growing warm, “men are weird sometimes…even more so when it’s a woman asking a man out. But I’m so glad you’re here.”
“You look beautiful,” he couldn’t believe how lucky he’d gotten or how pretty you were. You were wearing a pretty little sundress and that alone was enough to cause his mind to practically spiral; he was just a mere mortal man and even he was not immune to the effect of a sundress. He pulled himself together to hand you the flowers that were still tightly clutched in his hand, “these are for you.”
“They’re lovely,” you took them gently, your fingers brushing against his, “thank you so much. No one’s given me flowers in so long, this is so kind.”
“They reminded me of you, bright and pretty,” maybe he wasn’t totally terrible at this after all.
“Come on in for a moment while I put these in some water,” you moved back inside and motioned for him to follow you. He slowly followed you inside, looking around your humble abode to try and get a good feel for you, “so, have you decided what we’re going to do this evening?”
“I have a few things in mind,” he grinned, a little half smile that made your heart speed up a little bit as you quickly moved to set the flowers into a vase with fresh water, “I can tell you or you can be surprised.”
“Surprise me,” you set the flowers on the counter and looked at him sweetly.
“Surprise it is.”
“I have a feeling you’re going to surprise me a lot, Joel Miller,” you grabbed your purse and he shot you a cheeky little wink, “I look forward to it.”
“Me too, sweetheart, me too.”
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
Joel Miller couldn’t believe his luck. It had been a year, a whole ass year, since the two of you had gone on your first date. That might have been one of the best days of his life, topped only by the birth of his daughter. He knew that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you, and knew that he wanted to ask you to marry him.
But there was still some remaining doubt that kept nagging at the back of his mind.
A part of him was always waiting for you to realize that he didn’t deserve you and to leave. Not that you’d done anything to ever suggest that was going to happen but still. He thought about it…a lot. He’d felt like a complete failure when his wife had left him and their daughter when she was only a few months old without so much as a proper explanation. If the woman he’d loved and married, the mother of his daughter, didn't want anything to do with him, why would anyone else? And what did he have to offer anyway? Nothing. Not in his mind anyway.
And he loved you, so much. He would do anything to keep you in his life. So he threw himself into everything he did; he wanted to make sure everything was perfect for you, even if it all but killed him.
You appreciated everything he did for you, so much and all the things he did were definitely not lost on you. At first it didn’t really hit you just how much he was driven to perfection until you started to see some of the cracks in the facade.
It happened one night when you were over at Joel’s house for dinner with him, Sarah, and Tommy that you noticed something was off. Joel had seemed so tense and distracted since you’d arrived. You’d made it to the Miller household a little earlier than you had initially told them in order to help finish up dinner and get everything set up.
Sarah had answered the door and let you in with a big hug before you made your way into the kitchen. You adored the girl, and her father, and you were happy that she seemed to like you too. You weren’t trying to force your way into her life, but let her welcome you at her own pace. It had only been her and Joel for pretty much her entire life so you were sure that this was a whole new world for her too.
“Hi baby,” you grinned as you walked into the kitchen, setting down the desserts you’d brought. Joel turned around and his entire face dropped when he realized it was you. Ouch. That managed to sting a little bit, “everything alright?”
“You’re not supposed to be here,” he looked at his watch and ran a hand through his messy hair, “for almost another hour!”
“I finished earlier than I thought at work,” you shrugged lightly, “and thought I’d come over to help. I didn’t think it was a big deal…I can go if that’s better?”
“No - no,” he insisted softly, “no, I’m glad you’re here, it’s just that nothing’s ready. It’s not set for you yet.”
“You don’t have to do all the work silly man,” you pressed a kiss to his cheek, “let me help. I’m more than happy to - I want to.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive,” you whispered as you decided to hug him; he looked like he could use a hug. He wrapped his arms around you, squeezing you tightly to his broad frame, “just let me know what I can do to help, okay?”
“Okay,” he agreed, allowing himself a moment to bury his face in your neck and to breathe your warm scent in. When he pulled back, you kissed him sweetly, “okay.”
Once you had everything squared away and ready, Joel ran upstairs to shower and change, leaving you and Sarah to set the table. She looked at you for a moment before quietly saying, “he really likes you, you know?”
“I do,” you smiled softly, “I really like him too.”
“He’s never been with anyone since I was born,” she scooted over to you so there wasn’t a chance for Joel to overhear, “I don’t even remember my mom; she just up and left when I was a baby. But I’ve always had my dad. And it’s nice to see him happy ‘cause he deserves it.”
“Oh,” your expression softened, “he told me it’s been the two of you but never went into what happened.”
“Yeah,” she shrugged, “it’s fine. I never had the chance to know my mom so it never really bothered me. But I know my dad really likes you, he’s been so happy lately it’s kinda gross. He’s trying really hard. He just wants you to be happy too.”
“I am really happy, Sarah,” you promised, “and I want your dad to be as well. I love him a lot and you both mean a lot to me.”
“This is too sappy,” she snorted in amusement and rolled her eyes playfully, “but…you mean a lot to me too. Just so you know.”
“Don’t worry kiddo, we’ll keep it between us,” you shot her a wink, causing her to giggle softly, “you mean a lot to me too.”
“What are you whispering about, huh?” Joel came back downstairs and into the kitchen, his eyes flitting between the two of you, “planning a mutiny?”
“Duh, old man,” Sarah pushed past him, and Joel raised an eyebrow.
He was just joking around, mostly, but he was also panicking internally - just mildly but still. It was there. His first thought was that somehow the two of you were talking about him…but not in a flattering way. What if you were telling Sarah you were tired of him? What if you were telling her that you were planning on breaking up with him? What if you told her that -
“Joel?” you put your hand on his shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. He blinked a few times as he snapped back into reality before looking at you, “where’d you go, space cadet?”
“Just zoned out,” he offered you a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, “sorry.”
“Don’t apologize,” you insisted, “it’s been a long day, I’m sure tired as well. We’ll call it an early night tonight, yeah?”
“Yeah,” he nodded, heart constricting at your gentle nature. You were always so sweet and kind but he still found himself waiting for the other shoe to drop, “sounds good, sweetheart.”
“I love you,” you reached for his hand and squeezed it, “a lot.”
“I love you too,” he hoped you never stopped saying that. He wanted to hear it for the rest of his life. He was going to try his damndest to keep you in his life forever.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
“I can’t believe it,” Joel shook his head as he looked at the maitre’d, “it’s only fifteen minutes! You can’t tell me that you don’t have a table available anymore.”
“I’m sorry sir, the reservation was for 6:30 and we have a ten minute policy for being tardy,” he remained calm but you could see that Joel was only growing more annoyed, “as you can see we’re very busy.”
“I made these reservations three months ago-”
“I’m sorry, sir. That’s our policy,” you put your hand on Joel’s arm and squeezed it gently. He looked at you with a deep frown on his face.
“It’s alright,” you promised him, voice gentle and soft, “we can go somewhere else, it’s no big deal.”
“Fine,” he huffed after a moment and turned on his heel to leave. You offered the man a small smile as you followed your boyfriend out the door. He immediately started walking to the truck, leaving you to trail after him in his wake, “this is fucking ridiculous.”
You flinched as he slammed his door against the side of the truck, “Joel. I need you to calm down. It’s really not a big deal - I don’t care where we go, I just want to spend time with you.”
“But it’s your birthday,” he hissed, “it should be nice. I had this all planned out and I fucked up and made us lose the reservation.”
“Hey,” you slowly took a step closer to him, “do you want to tell me what’s really going on?”
“I just wanted everything to be perfect for you,” his shoulders slumped as he looked at you with misty eyes. Clearly there was a lot more going on underneath the surface, “I don’t want you to leave me.”
“W-what?” you looked at him in confusion, wondering where that train of thought had suddenly come from. You reached up and out your hand on his cheek, gently brushing away the tears that had rolled down his cheeks, “why on earth would I leave you? That has never crossed my mind.”
“I want to give you everything, you deserve it but I feel like I can’t give it to you,” he pressed his hand gently onto yours, “sometimes I wonder why you’re with a loser like me.”
“Joel,” he hated, and loved, how gently you always managed to say his name. You always had such a tender way about you, “I have never once thought you were a loser. Never. I love you, silly man, so much. You’re perfect to me - for me. Why would you even think that I would feel like that?”
“I couldn’t even get the mother of my kid to hang around. She up and left and sent divorce papers and left us,” he sighed softly, “sometimes I wonder how long it’ll be before you get tired of me as well.”
“I’m not her. I’m me,” you reminded him gently, “I’m never going to get tired of you. Oh my gosh, you don’t know how much I adore you, do you? Joel, no one has ever been as good and kind to me as you have. I look forward to spending time with you even if its just at home watching a movie. When we’re apart I look forward to seeing you. Not because of things like fancy dinners or grand gestures or whatever - not that I don’t love those - but because I love being around you. It’s because of you, not anything else. We could have nothing but as long I have you, and Sarah, it’s more than enough. It’s everything.”
Joel looked at you, trying to make sure he’d heard everything you’d said correctly and you weren’t about to laugh at him. When he saw the soft smile on your face, the tender way you were looking at him, he knew that you weren’t joking. He nodded slowly, sniffling before whispering, “I love you.”
“I know you do,” you promised, “you’ve never once given me a reason to doubt that. I love you too, Joel.”
“I know,” he reached for your hand, hesitantly and gently, lacing his fingers through yours, “you’ve never given me a reason to doubt that either.”
“Good,” you squeezed his hand gently, “I think we’re on the same page, right?”
“Yeah,” he agreed quietly, “we are.”
“If you ever have any doubt, just let me know and I’ll remind you just how much I love you. But…does that mean we can go and get dinner? Some McDonalds fries sound amazing right now.”
“You want to go to McDonalds? On your birthday?” That was one of the many things he loved about you - you weren’t pretentious or picky or anything. You were just you.
“Are you going to go with me?”
“Obviously,” he snorted in amusement, shaking his head fondly at you.
“Then hell yeah,” you teased, “let’s go and get tons of McDonalds and go home and watch a movie. That sounds perfect.”
“Then that’s exactly what we’ll do,” he agreed as he opened the car door for you. He buckled your seatbelt for you before leaning in to kiss you gently, “happy birthday baby.”
“Thank you,” you made sure to steal another kiss from him, “I love you, Joel Miller.”
“I love you. So much.”
#joel miller#joel miller x you#joel miller x reader#joel miller x fem!reader#joel miller imagine#joel miller one shot#tlou#pedro pascal
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down bad | j. potter
summary: you're so in love with james potter but he's a little too good at giving you mixed signals that it might actually ruin you
pairing: james potter x reader
warnings: angst, a little fluff if u squint, and so much longing & yearning. omg so much of it
a/n: i am unfortunately completely obsessed with taylor swift's new album, so everything i'll write in the near future will be based on one of the ttpd songs (yey!) & this one's based on 'down bad.' feel free to send requests if u want pick the next song for me x
──────── 𑁍︎ ‧₊°
"So he just said no?" Mary all but hisses. Marlene shushes her, glancing around the classroom before leaning down from where she's sitting on your desk.
"Are you sure it didn't mean something else?" She rests her hand on yours. "Maybe it was just a misunderstanding. He wouldn't…he just wouldn't, right?" You smile weakly at her, then shake your head. She squeezes your hand.
"The note was pretty clear," you say with a soft sigh. The sentence rolls off your tongue with unhidden bitterness. "Sorry, can't. Need to catch up on some assignments."
You would show it to them, so they could see for themselves and maybe divert their sympathetic gazes from you. But you had set it on fire right after reading it, just like the other two notes friendly rejecting you. You still aren't sure why you did it. After all, you did just tell Mary and Marlene that you're fine. At least you will be. You should not be this devastated over some guy.
Even if that guy is James Potter.
James who is now strolling into the room with his mates, looking as invincible and full of life as he always has and always will.
Quickly, you force a smile at the girls and pull out the chair next to you. Marlene, bless her, gets the hint and lightly shoves Mary's shoulder to have her take the seat. You're going through your book bag, pulling out your inkwell when four bodies make their way past your desk.
"Ladies," comes Sirius cheerfully loud voice as he bows at the waist because, of course, he does. Peter and Remus aren't as dramatic with their greetings. The latter, however, does take the time to slow down in front of you until you look up and return his kind smile. Belatedly, you realise perhaps you shouldn't have done that. You lock eyes with James, who's right behind him.
He sends you an easy smile and a wink. Like he's letting you in on another one of his rare secrets. You're not sure if you're smiling back, but it's almost a given that you are.
He takes his seat behind you, laughing blithely at a joke Pete just told, and it's all so painfully charming that you want to die. You fear he will always make you feel like this. Like you're somehow the chosen one. It's such a sickening feeling, you can't help but whip around and look at Mary, pleadingly. Though, you're not sure what you're pleading for anymore.
She shoots you another unbearably sympathetic smile, looking like she's close to cooing at you. You sigh, hiding your face in the crook of your arms.
You can't help but think how easy it would be to just cry right here. It's embarrassing to admit, but you've done it plenty of times over the weekend after you had seen James out at Hogsmeade with the others. Miserably, you had realised that he was, in fact, not too busy working on his assignments. He just didn't want to spend time with you.
You almost let out a sob.
A hand rubs your back and you know it can only be Mary, but you let yourself believe that it's the universe consoling you, as if to say there, there because there's nothing fair about this and she knows it, but there's nothing she can do it about now, can she?
History of Magic passes in a blur. Before you know it, you're in the library, pouring all of yourself into an essay that you normally couldn't have cared less for. But you're willing to do whatever it takes to keep yourself busy. You know your thoughts will stray the moment you're lying quietly in bed anyway, awaiting another sleepless night.
You finish the sentence and look up, satisfied with your work. Apparently it's been a while since you've torn your gaze away from the parchment before you, seeing how stiff your neck is. You knead at the uncomfortable knot in your shoulder while looking around the library. It's relatively full today with every other seat being taken.
Which makes it all the more irritating when your gaze snatches on a figure sat at the other table right across from you. He's not even looking up, head bent over a book, but you would recognise that mop of unruly dark curls anywhere. James must've seen you when he came in, but that might have just been your hopeful self speaking.
Begrudgingly, you resume your writing and it takes everything in you not to look up every few minutes. To glimpse the slight furrow in his brows and the small pout of his lips as he's carefully reading every paragraph. You know he's likely looking for something to prepare for a prank. Normally, you would simply go over and ask him what he's up to. You know he'd happily tell you. But you're glad to have at least a little bit of pride and dignity left that keeps you rooted in your spot.
Seemingly not enough though since all you can think about is that there's no way he doesn't know that you're right there. It really does make you want to bang your head against the table. Maybe that would finally catch James' attention.
Pathetically, you glance at him only to notice that he's packing his things to leave. The tip of your feather goes back to the parchment so fast, it almost pierces it. You haven't got a clue what you're writing, too busy tracking James' movements from the corner of your eyes.
You watch him stand up, walking down the length of his table towards the door down the hall on his right. Then he stops. You hold your breath. James seemingly hesitates before fixing the strap of his bag on his shoulder. He turns left and walks towards you. You're staring at your hand as it writes illegible words, completely out of your control, when you feel a tap on your shoulder.
"Hey," James whispers when you look up, giving you a familiar grin and small wave. It's an innocent gesture, sweet, but there's almost something hostile about this encounter. Like you have no choice but to let him occupy every single one of your senses. You stare up at him, a matching smile sweeping over your lips before you can think better of it.
That's when you notice the scarf he's wearing and its frizzled ends. It's yours. You know it is.
Did he not give it back to you after one of your nights out together on the stands? After you had flown on your brooms, so close to the sea of stars that you could've dipped your fingertips in them? You could almost hear the echoes of your windblown laughters as the memory pushes itself into the foreground of your mind.
James is sitting still, rosy-cheeked, watching you with curious eyes while you babble on about the Leo constellation. He had just told you that you could do whatever you want to him—another quite maddening thing to casually say to someone—and now he's apparently keen on staying true to his word by letting you wrap your scarf around his neck.
It took some convincing before he'd finally accepted it from you. You promised that you wouldn't be cold with your high collared sweater, but James only gave in when you had accepted his wool hat in exchange.
He had carefully put it on you, smoothing down your hair and pulling out some loose strands to frame your face, mumbling something about how much lovelier his hat looked on you than on him. You told yourself that he surely must've known what it did to you when his knuckles brushed your cheeks. Right? Surely.
James pokes your side, chuckling, as if he sensed that your mind was drifting elsewhere. He cracks another joke, saying that if you were the one to teach him Astronomy, he might actually pay attention in class. He says it like it's a deal and you feel inclined to do whatever it takes to hold up your side of the bargain.
You laugh helplessly, feeling drunk on a little bit of everything; the stars above, James' gentle laughter, the familiar smell of broom wax and crisp winter air. This must be cosmic love, you think to yourself. Your breath clouds in front of you, becoming one with his. All the while, you're too aware of James' shoulder bumping into you, his leg pressed against yours. There's no one out here but you two.
You have all the room in the world, but James chose to sit this close to you. Probably close enough for him to hear your heart pounding. Did he do it for a reason? You'd love to know.
"You don't need me to pay attention in Astronomy," you find yourself saying in response, something daring laced in the drawl of your voice. His eyes flash, bright and a bit wild. It's the same look he gets after you challenge him to a race on your brooms. His grin grows wide, carefree, and oh so lovely.
"Please." His face comes impossibly closer and you lean in without another thought, eager to take whatever it is James will give you. You feel his breath on your lips.
"I will always need you, Y/N."
Somehow he makes it sound genuine.
Then he winks and leaves you a horrid, forsaken mess. Somehow he makes that feel like a nice gesture too.
Incredulously, you stare at him as he leans back, elbows resting on the seats behind him. James Potter, you think weakly, what are you doing to me? Not for the first time you ponder what you would do if you can't have him. You almost double over from the striking pain in your chest.
Then he points out another constellation and you nearly forget all about yourself. He's good at that. Never ceasing to show you that the world is bigger than the two of you. Making you forget and remember that you might be in love. Because what if you were in love?
James cups the back of his neck, then points towards the door of the library, almost shyly letting you know that he's leaving. You nod slowly, still dazed. A small smile crosses his lips before you watch him round the corner, his back disappearing from your sight.
You blink, letting out a ragged breath. You feel like you got the wind knocked out of you. Like you just lost your twin. Someone who knows you like no one else ever will. Someone who might just be your better half. Someone who sometimes makes you feel like they want nothing to do with you.
It's ridiculous, you think bleakly to yourself, you're so down bad.
And James Potter makes it feel like a curse and a blessing.
#james potter#james potter x reader#james potter fanfiction#james potter fic#james potter fluff#james potter imagine#james potter x you#james potter x y/n#marauders fanfiction#marauders#taylor swift#ttpd#the tortured poets department
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IT'S NEVER OVER - PROLOGUE (sept. 2005)
summary: if anyone asked sid, he wouldn't say that he liked pittsburgh more after meeting nat. no, that would be absurd.
warnings: short and sweet! (none)
a/n: hi, hello! am i posting this without having finished it? yes. i don't know how long it's going to be but i'm slowly chipping away at it and i'm pretty excited about it. it might even be my favourite series thing i've done so far, and weirdly my first one? i've had the entire thing outlined for months but i've been too busy to even think about posting it, so...here you go! i can't promise posts for this will be regular because the chapters are so long, but i'll try my best to keep you posted! hope you enjoy (a series mastrlist will be out soon too so you can get the gist of where i'm at in the entire process) xo
sneak peak | pinterest board
(It started with music, but Nat didn’t know that.)
It was a total accident, a random encounter that Sidney couldn’t possibly have predicted – one that, without exaggerating, changed his life to an extent. On a whim, he’d decided to go into that coffee shop he’d walked past everyday for the past three weeks, and it was also on a whim he actually made it to the counter to order an uncharacteristic coffee – he was newly eighteen, being pulled in all sorts of sports-diet directions, the confinement of which kind of irked him, so to him, buying that coffee was a subtle rebellion.
It was also a complete accident that he’d wandered off to the right after taking his coffee from the counter, instead of left, or forwards, or even backwards.
Sidney wasn’t one to believe in fate or destiny: he believed those terms were too magical – they alluded to some other worldly forces coming into play, and he liked to stick to facts. Coincidences. Accidents. Nevertheless, he did find it almost inexplicable, the way that his life hurtled into a completely different route after a mere forty minutes inside a coffee shop that he’d just spontaneously decided to make a trip of. He couldn’t quite get his head around it all.
To him, it was a coincidence that he’d walked past her table. A coincidence that she happened to be blaring the only song he’d been able to listen to for the last four days. He’d barely made it three steps past her before he froze.
She was wearing those over-the-ear headphones, the ones with orange sponges from the 80s, plugged into the iPod that had come out a few years back. He recognised it because everyone that had one in his high school before he left never shut up about it. Sidney admittedly did own one at the time, but he never really felt the need to show it off – it was much easier than lugging around a cassette or CD player with songs burnt in.
The song still had him halting in his tracks and turning around, his body much further ahead than his brain because he had to steady his mug of coffee; his sharp actions had the liquid almost sloshing over the edge, but he managed to catch it just in time.
He wouldn’t have done either of those things: stop and turn, if it had been any other song he’d heard. He was just so taken aback by it – the exact, precise song.
The girl at the table didn’t pay him a single dime of attention when he froze, despite the fact that his hip was practically nudging her table. She wasn’t even looking in his direction, her eyes gazing out of the window on her right, skipping over empty faces as people walked past. It was clear she was supposed to be doing work of some sorts: there were textbooks, novels, and flashcards scattered across the entire table, a pencil case half emptied with pens strewn all over. She had a pen clutched in the fist she was resting her chin on, not caring for the study cards at all – entirely enamoured by the view.
Sidney followed her eyes. There wasn’t much to look at, just a street, and her chair was directly facing the side of a retail store, clothes and mannequins displayed in the window.
In hindsight, Sidney didn’t really know what compelled him to do what he did next.
He couldn’t tell if she was bored and just looking out, not paying attention to the music flowing into her ears, or if she was just so absorbed in what she was hearing that she couldn’t physically bring herself to think about her work – that she’d tuned out the outside world entirely.
What caught his attention the most was the crease between her brows. It drew him to look straight at her; an alluring combination of chestnut hair and pale eyes – though not too pale that they made him uneasy. She was also probably the only person in the establishment that was around his age.
She had impeccable music taste, if he did say so himself.
Yet, he couldn’t shake the inkling that this girl was wholly feeling the brilliance and soul-crushing heartache of Jeff Buckley’s genius – and he found himself hoping she was.
That was why he cleared his throat and took a small step to the other side of the table. He threw a quick glance over his shoulder, noting that the cafe was pretty busy, so he knew he could at least try to get away with what he was about to do.
He made sure to tilt his head up, because the hat covering his face would be nothing short of slightly suspicious in a public setting, and it wasn’t until he purposefully knocked into the chair that she flicked her eyes to look at him.
He held his breath, a moment when all they did was look at each other, until the crease in her brows disappeared and she reached to pause her music on her iPod, slowly sliding her earphones off so they rested around her neck.
“Hi.”
His assumptions had been correct. She was around his age – her voice was deeper than he’d originally anticipated – and when he found himself slightly closer than before, he was able to make out that she was studying for her SATs.
It was September.
“Hi.” He replied, forcing a smile that he hoped would convey the apology he felt for intruding on her personal time and in her personal space. Her clutter was all over the table, and he knew that if she was hopefully as kind to strangers as he hoped she’d to be, that it would be somewhat of a hassle to shove some of it away, “I’m really sorry, but there aren’t any other tables free. Would I be able to–”
“Oh, sure.” She interrupted, immediately going to reach to sweep a space clear for him over the other side of the table. Sidney watched with a mildly amused gaze; she didn’t seem to care for the way her flashcards seemed to mix themselves up, or the way her textbooks snapped shut and she lost her page.
She flashed him a welcoming, slightly embarrassed smile as she piled the books on top of each other, and before Sidney knew it, he was sitting in the chair opposite, accidentally knocking their knees together in the process, and sipping from his coffee mug. He fought to maintain the thankful smile on his face, despite the utterly bitter taste of the coffee that seemed to fester on his tongue.
No wonder he’d never tried coffee before, it tasted like dirt.
The girl broke a small chunk of a muffin off, a smile breaking out on her face as she fought a small laugh.
Sidney blushed, “I’m not a big coffee-fan.” He reasoned, shrugging.
“I can tell.” She pressed her lips together momentarily, looking down at the plate before turning her attention back to him. Sidney felt stunned at the colour of her eyes. He’d never seen grey eyes before, but hers seemed to balance more on the green side – only when the sun struck the side of her face, they turned a watery, clear blue. There was also a tinge of brown thrown in there.
What was that called? Heterochromia?
He felt his mouth dry, and before he could stop himself, he was taking another sip of his coffee, this time managing to control the urge to wince, “Thanks for letting me sit here.”
She shrugged, gathering the flashcards and lining them up, “It’s no problem. Sorry for the mess.”
He let his eyes wander over the books once more, the green ‘SATs’ letters jumping out at him, “You got an important date?”
The girl swallowed, not entirely understanding what he meant. That crease formed between her brows again, and she opened her mouth to question him, but Sidney beat her to it, a finger pointing at her stack of books.
She sighed, “Not entirely, they’re at the end of the school year, but one of my teachers gave us an assignment to get some revision resources done early.”
Sidney couldn’t say he understood her stress – it was something displayed across the planes of her face; evident when she looked rather tiredly at the stack of books, and hesitated at the flashcards, before throwing them to the side. She folded her arms across the table, then switched so that her hands were interlocked in front of her.
She looked as though she didn’t quite know what to do with herself, and Sidney couldn’t tell if it was because of the presence of a stranger, or if she was already feeling some sort of academic guilt for throwing her attention away from her studies for a couple of minutes.
He saw her jaw clench, and at that observation, the thought that maybe he was paying a little bit too much attention to her crossed his mind, so he turned his focus to the cup of coffee. He was beginning to feel its effects; his knee was shaking softly under the table and he could feel an influx of energy spark at his fingertips. Or maybe it wasn’t the coffee at all.
He hadn’t thought about hockey for five minutes.
He saw her turn her face towards him out of the corner of his eye, and he looked up, “What about you? Are you in school, or…?” She trailed off, her eyes skimming over the logo that had flashed itself from the safe and unzipped confines of his hoodie.
He felt his heart quicken at having been caught, worried that perhaps she’d shout out who he was – if she knew – across the entire cafe. He remained optimistic; she didn’t seem the type.
He cleared his throat, “Not anymore.” For some reason he hesitated. He could play off the logo as merchandise – he could be someone other than Sidney Crosby, the New Rookie of the Pens – or he could be honest. When he looked back at her, there was a challenge in her eyes, and Sidney knew then that she already knew who he was. “I just got drafted to the Pens for my first NHL season.”
She sighed, “Can I tell you something?”
Sidney furrowed his brows, his mouth tilting down in a smile. He was new to the whole ‘local celebrity’ deal, but this by far, is probably one of the least impressed reactions he’d ever had. She clearly knew he wasn’t in school, but had still taken the kind courtesy to ask him the question, despite the futility of it.
He nodded.
“I only know one Pens player.” Then she pointed to something out of the window, “That banner has been staring at me every week for the past three months.”
Sidney huffed a laugh, thinking she was joking, but followed her finger anyway. He was immediately faced with a street corner, tens of people walking past each other – he could even make out their voices if he concentrated hard enough, and it took a while to figure out what exactly she was pointing at, until his eyes settled on a billboard at least a block down.
He’d been told that for press reasons, the Pens had come up with the idea of a way of promoting him as a player, and a ‘person of Pittsburgh’, by plastering some action shots of him – still staged – around the city. He’d neglected to look up lately, fearing that if he did, he’d be faced with some images of himself, but he hadn’t escaped that entirely.
The billboard was small, and he wasn’t the only player on there, either, but he saw it nonetheless.
When he spun back around to look at her once more, the only thing that came out of his mouth was, “There’s two other players, not just me.”
She shrugged, “I was talking about Sergei Gonchar.”
Sidney felt the blush colour from his chest to his cheeks as he slowly put his hands over his face, consumed by humiliation. He felt himself smile into his hands when he heard the girl huff a snicker. He’d had quite a few people as of late kissing up to his ego, and apart from his teammates, she was the first one to really deliver a considerable blow – and he was thankful for that; that at least someone still had the ability to look past who he was and tease him like he was a normal person. He was aware of the irony that lay there.
He gathered himself, unabashedly removing his hands and displaying the creeping blush for her to see, and sticking his hand between them, “Sidney Crosby, rookie center for the Pittsburgh Penguins.”
She rolled her eyes, not commenting on the state of his cheeks, her smile fading slightly but still remaining, “I was joking, I know who you are.” She took his hand in hers, gripping it tightly, “Nat Brooks. Student.”
Sidney swallowed, his blush remaining for other reasons, and pulled his hand away, flexing it under the table, “Is Nat short for anything?”
“Natalia.”
“‘S very pretty.” He mumbled, and she smiled sweetly.
“Sidney’s very pretty, too. It suits you.”
Something clenched in his chest.
#sidney crosby x oc#sidney crosby fic#it's never over prologue#nhl fic#nhl series#sidney crosby imagine#sidney crosby oneshot#sidney crosby x reader
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(Lifesteal s5 spoilers for my understanding of The Players' plans, from catching incomplete sections of streams and osmosis. I do not think this is spoilers for any of them but I am not keeping up very well, so please correct me if I am wrong and I'll edit this. It's a little bit rambly, sorry.)
So, aside from the unrequited pitchflirting, my understanding of the Players' main finale plans are that they want to remove all of the buildings and restore the server or at least the main areas to looking the way they did at the start of the server, before anyone built anything. And this has some justification about like being a fresh start to the world, aside from the fact that it's a cool dramatic thing to do, but also!
It's really neat how the thing it does is specifically making the server look as though nobody ever played on it. Because the Players' whole thing, their primary conflict with primarily Jumper and Minute (I don't think they have a team name?) is that they're the only people willing to play heel, to do cool evil dramatic shit that other people can make content by fighting against, and almost everyone else (no offense intended to Squiddo or Wemmbu but they haven't been on much lately?) is either neutral, inactive, or insistently playing face?
And in the arguments between the players and Jumper and Minute, it has come up that the opposing side wants to end the server without conflict, and the Players' argument in favor of what they're doing is that it's interesting content which creates a reason for the other players to log on and participate. (This has consistently been their motivation since early in the Abyss arc)
And I think that in addition to the other justification, restoring the world to look untouched is a pretty powerful statement of "This is what you're advocating for the world to be: one where nobody ever logs on and does anything or fights or builds things that matter."
(In the interest of fairness, I know Minute was talking about like, getting people onto the server by having temporary mods during the sessions, and Branzy does have his carnival, and I do enjoy this content, but... at least to me, the fundamental strength of Lifesteal content qua Lifesteal (Minecraft's deadliest SMP), as a reason to be watching this rather than something else-- like a modded or survival series that happens to be made by the same people-- is the social effects of a bunch of people who are mostly tryhards in a competitive environment that encourages conflict and teaming and subterfuge and paranoia and big dramatic clickbaitable gestures?)
(I do in fact think it's fun and interesting when there are some people on Lifesteal who care about morality and want to do the nice thing! This is a fun source of conflict! I just... think it's more fun when that's not the majority of people who are logging on and doing anything, because then there's the risk of them uncomplicatedly winning, or successfully preventing or mitigating or discouraging the majority of the dramatic evil/annoying stuff, and then nothing happening? Lifesteal content is primarily about conflict. It's maybe a little more fun when the people involved have in-universe justifications that are not just "it's for content", painting the fourth wall with a thin veneer of "it's because it's cool and asserts our power" or some galaxybrained self-serving philosophical/metaphorical justification explaining why this supervillain stuff is the real moral thing to do, or whatever? But it's still fun as long as people are like, logging in and doing stuff and fighting or arguing with each other, and maybe having some big feelings? and at least one person is live or making videos so we can see what's happening)
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Could you give us some good dadbastian fanfic? Oneshots, incomplete, completed anything really, i am starved and need some more food other than coattails(which i love very much!)
Hey there, thanks so much for being a Coattails reader! As an aside, I'm not sure if you're totally caught up or not, but sorry I don't yet have an idea of when the next part will be ready. I only have 4k words written so far and chapter 33 is looking to be another doozy... I'll be sure to keep everyone informed of when we're close 🫡
Anyway, I have no idea if you're like me when it comes to Dadbastian, but I'm pretty particular about what I enjoy. Angst has to play a factor in some form, for instance. I also don't like it when Ciel and Seb are too sappy with each other without it being earned. There's a reason Coattails had like 250k words of build-up before Sebastian actually accepted his Dadbastian fate.
With that in mind, here are my suggestions!
bottom of the deep blue sea by sunflowergiorno
Easily one of my favorite Dadbastian fics, hands down. I remember going positively bananas waiting for the second part to come out. It's so gentle and tender and honest. It perfectly showcases the thoughts and feelings I'd hoped for Sebastian and Ciel to have to approach after their experience on the Campania.
Words, Strings, and Butterfly Wings by Kimberly_T
I love this story so dearly, and it's tragic that it's unfinished. This fic is a retelling of the Circus Arc, in which Ciel and Sebastian must actually pretend to be father and son, sometimes with hilarious results, other times endearing. A major inspiration behind Coattails for sure. I would die for Falco, an original character who to me is more endearing than any of the canon Noah's Ark cast members.
Dadbastian Week Drabbles by HeartLeftovers
Nobody does angst like HeartLeftovers, and you'll drink up her poetic language like nectar. My personal favorite is Midnight, but read Magnifying Glass and Domesticated Wolf first for the full impact of the final stanza.
Sensorium by OtherCat
Short but sweet. A story about how Sebastian helps Ciel at the beginning of the contract to stop thinking like a boy trapped in a cage. I love that it shows that Sebastian couldn't possibly have frightened Ciel into becoming an earl: he had to actually coax Ciel towards it.
Singing in the Silence by Kimberly_T
Another one from Kimberly_T. Not strictly Dadbastian, but a story about the servants learning how to help Ciel with his PTSD in their very own inventive and roundabout way. Heart-meltingly adorable. It's canon to me, dammit.
Front Page News by TheArchaeologist
Also not strictly Dadbastian (in fact, Ciel is incapacitated the whole time), but I only need the slightest reason to suggest this Phantomfam-centric fic. Mey-Rin's voice is especially realized. Even though you already know Sebastian, Snake, and Ciel will make it back from the Campania in one piece, you feel the Pham's worry palpably.
Through the Years by Kimberly_T
Can you tell yet that I love Kimberly_T? Admittedly, this one I haven't read with perfect thoroughness, but I can tell you that the Dadbastian moments are peak. Ciel hires a new maid, a woman who nearly killed him when he invaded a brothel on a mission for the Queen. Please mind that this involves some discussions of SA. Also mind that the story largely centers around an original character, but no one does OCs like Kimberly.
ad perpetuam memoriam by redrobin1989
Only Dadbastian if you squint, but my god if you haven't read it yet go do it now.
I also have my Dadbastian week drabbles, Cutting Teeth, if you haven't read those! I hope that's given you some food for the time being. Eat up and enjoy!
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SHE! IS! HERE!
The menace, the power, the unease, and yes, the beauty. These are all traits present in Chimera-Falin, who makes her grand debut this episode. It is probably the most hype I've been for a character introduction in a TRIGGER show in a decade.
No anime could reasonably match the almost radioactive presence that Chimera-Falin has in ink, on paper. Instead, this episode's team bring an impressive arsenal of tricks of motion to convey her narrative (and literal!) weight. Chimera-Falin as a character literally bends the story around her, and the show displays this by showing in gruesome detail just how thoroughly she absolutely annhiliates all opposition. To dredge up the tired Dungeons & Dragons metaphor oft used for Dungeon Meshi once again, she's one of those really high CR, thoroughly unfair monsters. She's huge, incredibly robust and durable, can claw her foes---characters we've gotten to know over the past several episodes, mind you!---to shreds, and on top of all that, enough of her human mind remains that she can still cast spells. Can you imagine how absolutely defeated that mage must feel when Falin simply dispels his summoned undine? I'd be somewhere between furious and suicidal. In general, Falin is drawn an animated in a way that emphasizes her strength and presence. I'd also say she's drawn with just about the right level of frightening allure. We are supposed to find this as enthralling as we do scary. (This is sort of how Laios seems to see it, in fact, albeit along a different axis than, say, many of the lesbians watching this show.) Also, she gets a number of really fantastic facial expressions here, some of which are cribbed from the manga but many of which aren't! I wish more online discussion of the Dungeon Meshi anime focused on what TRIGGER brought to the table in details like this rather than on what can't be replicated from the original manga, but alas.
After Falin clambers offstage, we of course get the long heart-to-fist-to-face-to-heart between Shuro and Laios. I actually think this works slightly better here than in the manga, as it's a case where stripping some of the ambiguity inherent to that format actually sharpens the show's emotional beats.
We end with some comedy to take the edge off as our heroes venture ever-deeper into the dungeon, with their objective changed to explicitly defeating the Lunatic Magician.
Some stray observations:
Not to be a huge pervert, but I am surprised they were allowed to draw the harpies' nipples.
There is blood EVERYWHERE. Several others have pointed this out, but the difference between how striking the visual contrast is in the anime vs. the manga is pretty interesting. And more generally this was an extremely gory episode.
Marcille looks absolutely miserable throughout this entire episode. Not without reason! But still, my poor girl.
To completely shoot myself in the foot vis-a-vis what I said in the first bullet point, I think Chimera Falin might be even more beautiful in motion than she was in the manga. Where's the HRT I can take to get that body, huh, medical science?
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[BAD DECISION #7] Sex With An Ex
warnings: sad girl hours!! backstory!! wahoo!! reader gets a nickname (byeol (means star in korean)). enter stage left: KIM SEOKJIN. no smut but references back to things said mid-shag. first mention of jk’s lip ring flipping (i think (first of MANY)). very emotionally hurt reader :(
soundtrack:don’t know how to keep loving you - julia jacklin; 3:00 am - finding hope; blender - 5sos
wc: 6k
bd total wc: 540k (on-going)
minors dni | AO3 | series masterlist
A frigid early morning breeze dances around Jeongguk's bare legs. The hairs stand on end, in protest of the fact he's elected to wait downstairs by the entrance of his apartment.
He knows you're in a taxi - had sent you his address, and had been sent a message back a few moments later saying 'omw', but he isn't sure if you remember which floor he's on, nor which apartment is his. It's almost as if he didn't put a decal sticker that resembles Iron Man's Arc Reactor on their doorbell.
Jimin is yet to notice it.
You had giggled, still tipsy, when you'd spotted it on the night that Jimin had taken you back to their place, but can barely remember it, now.
And so, Jeongguk waits for you in the cold, hands bunched into the pockets of his shorts, a white shirt hanging off his broad shoulders, which are slightly hunched over. He's trying to preserve heat. Wishes he was wearing socks. Will blame you if he gets sick.
Yet when your taxi rolls up - and he's squinting from the headlights, eyes a little puffy from his lack of sleep - he knows that you're not in the mood to be blamed for anything. There seems like there's a weight on your shoulders as you thank your driver, making sure the door is shut before turning to face Jeongguk.
Posture sloped, you don't carry yourself like you usually do. Normally spritely, you seem quite the opposite now.
Your lips are thin as you smile.
He reciprocates a similar countenance, his lip ring flipping up ever so gently as he does it. There's something sweet about it, and it always makes you feel a little warm, normally, but you can't bring yourself to be endeared by it right now.
He walks to meet you - just a few steps across the ground floor parking lot - and wraps his arms around your shoulders. Doesn't let the hug linger for too long. Isn't entirely certain it won't make you cry.
"You're missing your disco, Byeol," Jeongguk says tenderly as he looks down at you, taking note of the fact you're without your signature makeup. He's so close he can count your lashes, and not a single one has a trace of glitter. You ignore the connotations of how he replaces ball with byeol. You're not sure how deliberate it is.
A familiar heat tickles at your lash line. With a sigh, you shrug. Look down at Jeongguk's hands, which are picking loose hairs from your shirt.
They're so acquainted with you now that you notice a graze on his finger that wasn't there the last time you'd hung out. Wonder how he got it. Hope he's okay, and that it didn't hurt. It's just a scrape from an awkward bottle cap. Nothing to worry about.
When your eyes finally meet his, you're surprised by how brutal his stare is. Eyes dark, there's no stars in them. His sharp jaw seems particularly tense, nose pointed and dewy beneath the moonlight. Behind him, the lobby light cuts out.
He swallows, dropping his hands from your shirt as his body turns to set the motion detector off again.
"Can we go inside?" you ask, quiet as a mouse.
Jeongguk doesn't understand why you're being so timid with him. He's not a fucking cat. You aren't his prey.
He just nods, though. "Of course."
The shrill beep of his entryway door code being punched in makes you feel like heaving. Everything is a little too much - which is why, when Jeongguk presses the button for the elevator, you ask if you can take the stairs instead.
"Sure," he says, a little taken aback. He normally takes the stairs himself, but thought you wouldn't want to walk up twelve flights of stairs. "We're pretty high up."
"S'fine," you say as you head towards the staircase. It's dimly lit, motion sensor lights flickering alight as you approach them. "Need the walk."
He chooses not to engage in conversation. Your words feel coded, and he isn't sure he's able to decipher them. Doesn't wanna risk saying the wrong thing when you're in a mood that feels so unfamiliar to him.
He's seen grouchy. Seen you unhappy. This isn't like that.
This is something different entirely.
He doesn't speak until you're on the staircase that exits on his floor, but his tone is gentle. "This one."
You nod, as if you knew.
Truth is you didn't. In fact, you kind of wish he'd just let you walk up to the roof. It'd be impossible to see the stars this close to the heart of the city, but at least you could pretend that the planes were cosmic calamities; shooting stars to make new wishes upon.
The lead is taken by Jeongguk until you reach his apartment.
He tells you Jimin is asleep, but that his room is at the opposite end of the apartment, so you can talk in there. He takes your silence as agreement, and holds the door open for you.
Shoes off by the entrance, he rests his palm on the top of your back to guide you through the dark apartment. It's how you remember it, the only difference is that Jeongguk's wearing a shirt this time.
When you reach his bedroom door, he pauses.
"If you say one mean thing about my sculpture collection, I'm throwing you out the window," he whispers, which does admittedly make a laugh stammer in your chest.
Makes you curious, too.
Hadn't envisaged him as a fine art type of guy.
He'd look good in your cafe, you think, in the corner with the clay, dried grey specs on his honey skin. You'd give him the olive-coloured apron, if he ever visited, because you think it'd suit him. Would watch with a lazy grin from the counter as he got to work on his project. Would sit with him during his breaks and colour in his tattoos with posca pens. Would be nice, you think.
But those thoughts are washed away like heat in a summer rain when his door opens and you see what he really means.
You don't mean it to be, but the laugh you let out is so fucking obnoxious. Jeongguk's hands go to shush you, one on the back of your head, the other over your mouth - but he's giggling, too.
"I told you not to be mean!"
You can feel him grin against your hair, keeping close so that he can keep his voice down. He doubts Jimin will stir, but it's worth it to hear your happiness. Jeongguk loosens his grip on you, turning back to click his door shut, and lets you meander over to his collection of-
"These are action figures, Gguk."
"They're sculptures."
"Toys."
"Collectibles."
"Collectible toys."
He purses his lips as you turn around to look at him. His arms are folded, nose a little scrunched, desperately not wanting to admit defeat.
"Look, they're really fucking expensive!"
And then you're laughing again, at how bloody ridiculous he is.
It somehow comes as no surprise that Jeongguk would have comic book figurines in perspex boxes, neatly stacked like a museum exhibition in the corner of his bedroom - just like it makes perfect sense that there's a chess set next to a computer that looks like it's worth your monthly salary.
"Can I-?" You cut yourself off as you gesture around the room.
"Go for it," Jeongguk says as he takes a seat on his bed, letting you wonder freely, taking in all that he is. He thinks you need a distraction, and he's to provide that. Knows you'd do the same if roles were reversed. In fact, it gets him wondering what your bedroom is like. He'll consider the what-ifs later. Too busy watching you, now.
A reed diffuser sits atop a pile of unread books on his bedside table - ones he swears to Namjoon that he'll read, but never seems to get around to doing so. The scent is black cherry, but there's another on the far side of the room which is fresh cotton. Nothing is ever entirely straightforward with him, but it's kind of why you like his company.
"This one is good," you muse, tapping the spine of one of your favourites - Cho Nam-Joo's Kim Ji-Young, Born 1982. You've the same book on your shelf at home. There are a few you don't recognise, so make a note to ask him about those another time.
His bed is made, but it's just as ruffled as his dark hair, which sticks out a little on end. You meet his eyes as you scan the room, and find that there's a small smile on his lips. You reciprocate it, hoping it's enough to distract him from the fact you're not quite yourself.
"Wanna sit?" he asks, knocking his head to the space beside him.
You don't think you do. You don't want to really be close to another person, not physically.
Something about him makes it hard to refuse such an offer, though. You find yourself nodding, even when you don't mean to.
He shuffles a little further up his bed, falling down onto his back to stare at his ceiling again. His legs hang off the side of his bed, hands intertwined across his chest.
You follow suit. Legs up, knees bent, feet by your ass, you copy his hands as you stare at his ceiling, too. Above you, his origami birds flutter gently in the aircon breeze.
"You make them?"
"Mhmm."
"They're pretty."
"Pretty lame," he snorts, very much aware that it's not the coolest thing to have in your bedroom as a twenty-five year old man, almost forgetting his glorified doll collection.
His sheets are soft, but there's still a slight crinkle as he turns his head to look at you. Though you feel his gaze, you don't look back.
"No disco balls tonight?"
The question is expressed so tenderly that you can't help but swallow back the flounder in your diaphragm. Your head slowly shakes, but you're still looking up at the birds. Part of you hates that he associates you so damn closely with that fucking glitter. Part of you quite likes it, too. Makes you feel seen. Makes you feel vulnerable.
"Why not?" He asks.
"Just 'cause," you whisper, not intending on giving an answer of substance - but you're upset, and it's a topic of contention that has been eating away at you for so long now that you can't help yourself from biting a little bit. "Sometimes it's just not very mature."
Jeongguk snorts. "You're talking to the guy with a figurine collection."
And then you're smiling, because his self-awareness is not only refreshing but incredibly endearing. He doesn't take himself seriously, and it's why you like his company. One of the reasons, at least.
But then you're thinking about how nice it is to laugh with someone for the simplicity of feeling a shared happiness, and you can't help but let the truth slip out.
"I used to date a guy," your voice lingers on your words, before you sigh and continue. "And he was so cool, yanno? So smart, and mature-"
The emphasis on the word, and the fact you're repeating it, tells Jeongguk all he needs to know about exactly what's happened tonight. Not once have you ever cared for looking older than you are, content with having fun thanks to the freedom of your twenties. In the time that he's known you, the topic of maturity has only ever been mentioned when you berate each other for being stupid.
Your compulsion to seem mature now is telling. He knows where you've been. Who you've been with, even if he doesn't know exactly who he is.
"- and he was just... you know people who have shit figured out? He's like that. He's older. Wiser." You pause, but Jeongguk lets you keep talking. His eyes are on the ceiling now, too. "Anyways, glitter annoys him. Gets on his clothes and then apparently it's a bitch to get out but I'm so used to it that I never notice it-"
"It's not a bitch to get out."
"And like, he's just, mature, yanno?"
"Yeah, you said that."
"So," you shrug your shoulders into the mattress. "He doesn't like glitter."
There's silence as Jeongguk thinks about what the fuck he's supposed to say to that.
In his eyes, you are glitter. Called you Byeol earlier 'cause you remind him of fucking stars. Feels a bit stupid for it now, but he's hoping you misheard.
He has to bite on his cheeks to stop himself from saying some scathing remark. 'So he doesn't like you, then?' reverberates in his head. It's harsh, he knows, but he wants to say it because he wants you to realise how terrible it is to change yourself for someone like that. And for what? It obviously didn't go well if you've ended up here.
But you are here. And he knows he's right - things can't have gone well. You're probably already feeling like shit, and who is he to make you feel even worse?
He can't be putting you through the wringer like that, but he's perplexed at the idea of you being so invested in someone who is quite clearly unbelievably wrong for you.
He's been in your position before.
Knows that him being a prick will only cause more damage.
And so he's kind, instead.
"I think it suits you," he says. "The glitter, I mean. You look fine without it, but it does really suit you."
You lean your head to the side, trying to get a read on his face. He just keeps on looking at the birds.
There's a harshness to the shadows on his face, painting him in greys. You don't realise it, but you're just the same - shrouded in the darkness of the night. His bedroom curtains are open, but the city lights aren't that bright at this time in the morning. Without the glitter to catch in what little light there is, your spark is dulled.
"You're just not used to seeing me without it," you say with a smile, but it doesn't reach your eyes.
He lets his head fall to the side, mirroring you. Strands of hair fall over his forehead, obscuring his eyes, tickling at his lashes. You reach over and knock a couple out of the way, trying to disregard the weight of his gaze. Deciding it's impossible, you look back up to the ceiling.
"You saw him tonight?" Jeongguk asks.
All you do is nod, because you're pretty sure you'll cry if you try and speak. The way your lips press together, brows tight above your pitiful eyes is painful to watch. You take a second. Take a breath. Wait for the next question.
"You slept with him?"
Jeongguk feels bad for the leap in questions, but he knows he's getting nods or shakes, and he want to get to the root of why the fuck you're ending your night in his room instead of with the guy you've been hung up on for months. Doesn't know his name. Doesn't care to know it. Thinks he's a prick.
A wallowing sadness sits in his chest when you nod your head, not for himself, but for you. He's never seen you like this. Never knew someone could have so much power over you.
Headstrong is all he's ever known you to be, but he feels like one of the King's men trying to put bloody Humpty Dumpty back together again.
You swallow back the sob that's causing a commotion in your oesophagus, as if the movement doesn't remind you of his hand on your throat.
God, you wish you could just stop thinking about him.
You think it would have hurt less if he'd have taken a knife to it.
Instead, his hands had been so warm and gentle, that you thought it meant he was trying to reclaim the space that used to hold a necklace with his initial.
Jeongguk doesn't want to ask the next question, but knows that as your friend - as a duty of care - he has to.
"Did he..." Jeongguk pauses, unsure of how to phrase in a delicate way.
"No," you finally, say, because you know where it's going. "He didn't hurt me."
"You've been crying," Jeongguk objects.
"Didn't hurt me like that."
He nods, accepting your response. Still has no idea what to fucking say, but he never does around you. S'why he always takes a moment or so. Brain just doesn't work when you're around.
"You wanna talk about it?"
To talk means to cry, and you don't really wanna do that. You glance over to him, and watch the way he's nibbling on his bottom lip, toying with his ring. Eyes still on the ceiling, Jeongguk pretends not to notice. You're both good at that. Pretending.
The silver of his jewellery - his piercings, his thick bracelets, the chain around his neck - just reminds you of the earrings that you're wearing.
They're dainty. Pretty little hoops. Intricate leaves trail around the smooth shape, tiny sparkling stones catching in the light. You'd worn them deliberately. Had hoped he'd notice.
Not Jeongguk. You couldn't really care less for what he did or didn't notice about you.
You'd worn them for Seokjin.
Had been wearing them since he messaged you midweek - I'm in town at the weekend. Will you be around? - and now you kind of want to rip them out.
You'd hoped he would remember the trip you took together to Gyeongju. Your third time visiting the city together; just before autumn was about to settle into the earth, rusted leaves sinking to the ground, like the blossoms during the spring. The cyclic nature of the seasons used to make you smile.
Just like he did, in the old Hanok where a silversmith crafted twisted hoops in front of your very eyes. He told you he'd buy you the entire store when he finally became a big shot. Settled for a tiny pair of silver hoops, instead.
They're the ones you're wearing now. The ones you hoped he would notice.
But he didn't notice. Not tonight. Not once. Not even when his lips were on your lobes, nor when his hands were on your body, his voice quiet in your ear as he'd told you tall tales about how much he'd missed you.
His voice had been so soothing at the time - "still take me so well, darling" - like aloe on sunburn - "like that. Fuck, darlin', like that" - but you realise now he was just covering you in deep heat. "Uh- shit. You always been this tight? Fuck. You're gonna make me cum so fucking hard."
Only a matter of time until he was scalding your skin all over again. "Shit." Scorching. "I'm there." Tarnishing. "Take it all for me, take it- ugh. Yeah, that's it. Good girl. Good fuckin' girl." Destroying. "Fuck."
And oh, what a scar Kim Seokjin leaves on your skin.
His handprints are warped all over your body. You're red in the wake of his touch, sandpaper palms scrubbing away at the efforts you've made to heal yourself in the past few months. Your cracks are showing again, and you're not wearing any glitter to fill the gaps.
You're broken, and it shows.
You swallow a little harshly, tongue licking your dry lips before biting down on them. Lashline warming again, you simply shrug. His duvet rustles beneath you. "Not much to talk about."
"We both know you wouldn't be here if that was true."
"But it is," you say with a fragile laugh. "He came over, and then-" Your voice cracks. "And then he left."
Should have seen it coming, really. You reap what you sow.
Jeongguk knows you never stay. Learnt it pretty quickly. Didn't ask too many questions about it. Never occurred to him that maybe you'd ever want someone else to stay, instead.
"I... ," you mumble as you try and think of the right words to say. Your cheeks are a little damp, and you know that Jeongguk knows you're crying, even if he isn't looking at you, but what's the point in pretending anymore? "I really thought that it wasn't me, yanno? I thought other people were the issue."
One of the birds he's watching catches on the wings of its neighbour, awkwardly straggling before falling back into position. Jeongguk thinks he should cut them all down.
"What do you mean?"
"The whole..."
When you pause, Jeongguk looks over to you. Your face is a little scrunched up, feeling awkward about such an admission. It makes him laugh how you can appear so pitiful and yet still so classically you. You laugh too, stuttering on your breath, using the back of your palm to dust away some of your tears.
"The whole intimacy thing," you finally continue with a small smile - because if you don't laugh, you will cry. "I thought that other people were the issue; that they didn't compel me to stay. I never once thought that it was me. That I was the issue - but I can't even fucking compel the guy I thought I'd marry one day to stay. It's me. I'm the fucking problem."
You're smiling as you finish talking, but it fades quickly. Withers like the flowers Seokjin had bought you on the evening he'd broken up with you. There's still one pressed between the pages in your journal. Petals plucked. He loves me, he loves me not. He loves me, he loves me not. He loves-
"You're not a problem," Jeongguk says, eyes hard as they look to his ceiling. His hands are still linked over his stomach, but he's resisting the urge to pace the room. He needs to wrap his head around what you're saying, but can't do it when he's sitting still. Needs to walk in a circle to try and find where the fuck it starts. Doesn't make sense to him how you're blaming yourself for your ex not staying. He chooses not to speak about him, instead trying to help you make sense of why you leave. "You don't stay at the end of your hook-ups 'cause a purpose is served. It's like how you don't stay in a restaurant after you eat your dinner."
"But you do," you say, as you cross your legs and clamber to a seated position. Jeongguk remains in place, and you notice just how perplexed he seems. "You have your dinner, maybe even dessert, and then what? You talk. Enjoy other's company."
He sits now, too. "Okay, maybe it was the wrong analogy-"
"It's not. It's entirely correct. Gguk, I-" you sigh, shoulders lifting to your ears and falling again. Exasperation pollutes your features.
You've given the topic a lot of thought, but never shared your conclusions. It's all a bit daunting.
"You...?" He encourages.
"I never stay, because I never want to give anyone the same power that he had over me. Never want anything more than casual sex, cause it can't hurt me." You voice is bereft, a small pitiful laugh punctuating your words. "How fucking sad is that?"
You're speaking so quietly that all Jeongguk can do is listen as your words slip into in ears and get all jumbled about inside his head. He needs time to reorganise them; to understand what you actually mean.
"I have so many rules and restrictions that it's barely even sex these days, more... a transaction? And yet when Jin messaged me, I fucking folded. Yes sir, no sir, three bags full sir. I..." you tail off, but Jeongguk doesn't push for more.
Just waits till you're ready - and when you are, you speak at such a speed it's almost hard to understand a single thing you're saying.
"I let him fuck me like he still loves me. Do you have any idea what that does to a person? How much it can fuck with their head? I broke down all of my walls, because he used to make me feel so safe and for some reason, I told myself it would be okay - but then you messaged and - fuck."
You look down at your thumbs and shrug, a deep sigh exhaling from your very soul, as if your bones are creaking beneath your skin.
"When you messaged, I woke up and he wasn't fucking there. He'd left. Treated me like how I treat my transactional shags. And I mean, maybe it's my own fault, maybe I deserved it, but fuck. I let him kiss me. I let him... I let him fuck me like he meant it, and then he left as if I meant nothing to him."
By the time you finish venting, Jeongguk looks so bewildered that he actually seems scared. You look back down to where your thumbs are twiddling, shameful of your own emotions. A pitter-patter of tears hit his duvet, and you just let them. You're not crying. Not sobbing, at least. Just tearful. Bamboozled by your own feelings.
Jeongguk's at a loss for what the fuck he's supposed to do.
He's never been the kind to comfort his friends. Isn't really sure how the fuck he's supposed to comfort you. He's no stranger to crying girlfriends - he's had a few of those - but this isn't like that. He can't just kiss it better, not that he'd want to. Be like kissing Jimin at this point, he tells himself.
And either way, it's so unbelievably inappropriate to even think of something like that when you're literally in front of him in tears over another bloke. His mind is just wandering because he's panicking, but oh god, you're crying still and how the fuck do you have so much liquid in your face? Surely you'll wither up? He's not sure he's ever seen a pair of cheeks so wet.
But then you shrug, and sniff back the tears. Purse your lips. Press them together so tight you can't make a sound. And then you look at him and say, "I'm sorry. This is, like, so much. I didn't mean to be such a big fucking cry baby I just-"
"Hey, no," he protests, face contorted with a little disgust. He can't believe you're apologising for this.
Jeongguk's no stranger to a complex. He's got one wrapped around his pretty pink brain like a metal chain, padlocked where his desire to take chances should be. The fear of rejection outweighs any possible good that could come from going after the things he wants - and as he watches the way your smile quivers before it falls into a quiet sob, he knows exactly what his fear is trying to save himself from.
And so he just gently smiles, and says, "it really fucking sucks when the people we love don't love us back."
You nod. "Fucking sucks."
He's only known you for a couple of months. Doesn't know who you were before your ex; only the after. But he quite likes who you are now. Thinks that whatever the fuck that prick put you through is undeserved. Is actually quite angry that he'd fuck you over like that.
"I'm sorry," you whisper, as you dab your face with sweater paws, trying to get rid of the remains of your tears.
He hates that you're apologising again, but he lets you. Knows you'll just say sorry again if he tells you to stop.
"I just didn't wanna be in my room, yanno?" A sob tries to escape, but you catch it just in time. Attagirl. "Fucking smells like him. I'd forgotten about his aftershave -" This is a lie. "- and now I can't get it out of my fucking nose."
Jeongguk grins, and tries a little banter. "Probably a good thing if it masks the way you smell."
"Fuck off," you smile back at him, biting down on your lip to stop it from shaking. "Now's not the time."
And yet you're so glad he's still being normal with you. Not so glad for his next question, but glad for the perspective he's trying to give to the situation.
"Did you at least... yanno?"
Your eyes roll so far back that you can basically see your frontal lobe. Jeongguk is a little horrified by the fact your entire eyeball is bloodshot, and doesn't hide his disgust very well. He tries. Just looks a little constipated when you refocus on him. Makes you laugh.
"Pretended," you admit a little awkwardly, and when Jeongguk's jaw drops, you reach over to close it. "My god, shut up! I didn't want to make him feel bad. If I knew then what I know now-"
"That he's a cunt?"
"-Then maybe I wouldn't have."
You would have. You'd turn water into wine if Seokjin asked you to. Let him drink your blood if a drought pilfered his water supply. Would sacrifice everything to just give him a measly something.
You'll never admit to any of that, though.
Silence simmers between the pair of you. There's not much left to say.
"I'm sorry he left," Jeongguk says, because you deserve an apology and knows you'll never get one from the person who owes it.
"Me too."
He reaches over and ruffles your hair, smiling in that way he does when his dimples form and his lip ring does a little dance. It curves upwards, smiling too.
"You wanna get a shower?" He offers. He's terrible at comforting people, granted, but he's good at thinking of solutions. "Everything here smells different to your apartment. You can get rid of whatever's haunting your nose with my incredibly manly strawberry shower gel."
You laugh, and Jeongguk feels himself relax. Hadn't realised his back had been so tense as he twists his waist to click it. You let yourself fall onto your back again, and into his duvet. "God, how on earth do the girls resist you?"
"They can't. Get a shower, Byeol. I'll make up somewhere for you to sleep, alright?"
You don't question the way he calls you Byeol again. Just let him. Think it's nice, actually.
And like the girls that apparently can't resist him, you can't say no to his instructions.
He shows you to the bathroom, and when you whisper about being worried you'll wake Jimin, Jeongguk shakes his head. "Sleeps like a log after a night out."
There's something incredibly kind about how he shows you which shower gels are his (because apparently he needs three in the shower at all times), and how to change the temperature (but leaves it on his favourite setting because he thinks you'll like it, too). He tells you to wait before you get in, because he's coming back with something - and when he does, you pout.
"So, this is like, my good towel. I don't keep it in here 'cause Jimin'll use it for god knows what, but it's really fluffy," he says, and then insists that you rub it against your cheek. He's not wrong. Might just be the fluffiest towel you've ever encountered. "Unreal, right? Like an actual cloud."
And then despite how gentle he's been, he reverts back to his typical self when he throws a shirt in your face. "For afterwards."
He shuts the door before you can say anything else in response. You just kind of stand there, his shirt looped over your shoulders, laughing softly to yourself, face furrowed in confusion. Jeon Jeongguk might just be the strangest human you've ever met.
But you're also the girl who took a canvas painting of breadfish to his gym, just to get a laugh out of him, so maybe you're well-suited in that regard.
Their shower is far nicer than yours, the water pressure frankly wasted on two boys. Though you wouldn't trade your apartment with Danbi for the world, you considering making future five AM pity calls just for the luxury of a waterfall showerhead.
You use the strawberry shower gel, not because you like it any better than citrus fruits or fresh pine, but mainly because it's the one Jeongguk first mentioned. It's sweet - almost as sweet as your own vanilla one - but still fresh enough to make you feel a little brand new. There's an ache in your heart as you wash your ex's touch from you, and you find yourself sniffing again - but you don't let yourself fall into that trap.
You've cried enough.
And so wrap yourself in Jeongguk's towel, close the lid of their toilet and sit for a while. The clock reads twelve minutes past six. Guilt simmers in your chest, knowing that Jeongguk didn't need to be dealing with you at such a ridiculous time in the morning - but when you reach his bedroom, knocking before you enter to find him organising a mountain of pillows on his floor, you can't help but feel thankful he's the person you reached out to.
It's kinda his fault for texting you at five AM and waking you up, but that's neither here nor there.
"Hey," he smiles as he turns to face you, and tries his hardest to avoid staring at your legs. Your hair is bundled up into his towel, and his shirt fits you like a dress, cutting off midway down your thighs. "Sorry, I just didn't know how many pillows you like? So I just got them all?"
"One is normally fine," you laugh, as you begin to tease your hair through the towel. "Thank you for this, by the way. Incredible towel."
"I told you so," he grins. "Curtains open or closed?"
"Closed?" You question, confused at how it's not an obvious answer - but you don't know that Jeongguk sleeps with them open on Saturday nights to make it easier for him to wake for the gym in the morning.
"Sure you're gonna be comfortable on the floor?" He asks as he reaches over to close the curtains. "I really don't mind taking the floor."
"I'm sure," you nod. "Hardly looks like a floor anymore."
You've a point. He really did it overdo it - but he's not had a sleepover since he was about fourteen. Isn't really sure what the protocol is.
At least, not a sleepover like this.
Nor have you. No time for braiding each other's hair and gossiping about your favourite celebrities, though. You find yourself drifting off almost as soon as you curl up into Jeongguk's expertly crafted pile of pillows. You don't realise, 'cause he doesn't tell you, but he's given you the pillows from his bed, too. They're a little more expensive, better for a good night's sleep.
He reaches to the end of the bed for his good towel. It's a little damp, but not too wet that it would cause any issues as he rolls it up and sticks it beneath his head. Isn't the first time he's used a towel for a pillow, and likely won't be the last. He just kind of thought you needed the comfort of expensive cushions more than he did.
"Sweet dreams, Byeol," he whispers, knowing you're out like a light, but wanting to wish you well regardless. You deserve that at the very least, he thinks.
Unlocking his phone, he cancels his gym alarm, and tosses his phone back down onto his mattress. His room is dark, but he can see the outline of your body, the curve of your hip and the dip of your waist as you adjust ever so slightly.
He's sure that when the morning comes, you'll be a bit embarrassed about it all - but for now, he settles into how comfortable it feels to have you around.
There's nothing intimate about the situation between the pair of you (which is probably why you don't mind staying over) - but when he hears you squeak a little in your sleep, pillows rustling as you move, he kind of gets it. Understands why you wouldn't trust just anyone with your most vulnerable state.
He's just the same; except his fears come in the form of rejection. He never makes it to the intimacy part, because he never deals with the stuff that needs to precede it.
And as he stares up at the shadows of his origami birds, a frown framing his pretty features, he decides you're both absolutely fucked.
AO3 | MASTERLIST | NEXT
#by holly#jungkook fanfic#jungkook fanfiction#jungkook angst#jungkook smut#jungkook ff#jk#jungkook x reader#jeongguk fanfic#bangtan#jungkook fluff#bartender!jungkook#non idol au#bts fanfic#jeongguk fic#bad decisions#dappleddaisies
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So. There's been a lot of speculation, and a lot of hot and lukewarm and some honest and valid takes about the new trailer and the potential of what might go down next ep.
I've been thinking thoughts, and I have my own personal stance on the matter. And no, I will not be 'taking criticism', because this is the way I view things in general, and it won't change. So this isn't me opening up a debate about this, this is just me sharing my personal views, which you absolutely can agree or disagree with. (So if your views on cheating are vastly different from mine, don't come at me telling me how wrong I am, I'm not doing that at you either)
That being said, here are my thoughts and beliefs.
Kissing isn't (automatically) cheating.
For me, it highly, highly depends on the accompanying circumstances. There are kisses for shits and giggles that are not cheating. There are kisses happening under heavy influence of whatever substance - something that can render you legally not responsible for a lot of things, so how does it make you responsible for a moment's poor choice?
There are kisses that are done deliberately with intention and feelings/high physical attraction involved, and THAT is cheating.
When we look at the Buck/Lucy kiss, I didn't see it as huge a deal as many of the fandom did. The kiss itself somewhat fell into the second category. But what made it at the very least borderline cheating was the fact that Buck made a secret of it afterwards. Had he said "Look, something happened last night. I was drunk, then Lucy kissed me, and I didn't instantly pull back, but I didn't want to kiss her again or anything. I have no feelings for her whatsoever and I will watch myself in future a whole lot more to notice any signs of flirting, which, in hindsight, there were. I'm sorry." - then I think that's still grounds for a partner to be mad, sad, disappointed, but it's not really full-on cheating. Not in my book, by my definition.
Emotional cheating is much worse than physical cheating
Being in love with someone and knowing it, imagining yourself to be with that other person, THAT is much more cheating by my definition than a fleeting kiss. And sometimes, depending on the circumstances, maybe even more than a drunken fumble or one night stand, but that is a very complex question.
However, emotional cheating means you're not really in it with your current partner, pining for someone else but settling for what you can have out of convenience, fear of being left behind or some other highly egoistical motivation. That really sucks.
(I've seen that take expressed on my dashboard as well, though with slightly different nuance to what I feel and believe, but pretty close)
So, taking these two of my underlying beliefs as the basis, what can I see happen in the next episode that would leave me feel okay with it, or happy about it, and what would make me feel iffy about it?
Let's start with the iffy.
Buck:
If, at any point in their drunken Hangover-movie escapades Buck and Eddie kiss, full on kiss (with maybe a little bit of tongue), and that kicks something lose in Buck, I would utterly hate that.
Not that I wouldn't find it plausible that a kiss like that would trigger him realizing romantic feelings for Eddie, but that it happens now.
Someone else made a long post about negative stereotypes about bisexuals, and I agree. This is the promiscuity/bisexuals can't be trusted to be faithful stereotype, and I don't want Buck to ever be seen in that light.
Also, Buck JUST (and that post mentioned that too) convinced Tommy to come with him to the wedding, that he's ready for something... only to emotionally cheat (because it's that aspect for me rather than the kiss itself) on him the very next opportunity?
"But Tommy and Buck aren't in a relationship yet," I heard someone say, and well, yes. But this isn't REAL LIFE. It's writing. Things are crafted in a certain way to form a story, and stories have a purpose. The narrative gave us an arc where Buck seemingly wasn't ready for a relationship with a man yet, where he fucked up and had to fix that, had to take a leap and take some courage to make it work.
Just purely from a narrative standpoint, it would be so inconsistent to reverse that healthy step forward just one episode later.
From what we know about the episode, it also doesn't look like he's breaking up with Tommy in that episode. A lovely, potentially dramatic moment where Buck kisses Tommy in front of everyone as a means of 'coming out' is highly implied/likely. So that would mean him being aware of some feelings towards Eddie and still going through with that. And yeah. No. I'd really, really fucking hate that.
Eddie:
If they kiss at some point and it kicks something loose in Eddie, and he then goes back to Marisol... I'd have much less of a problem with that because it could still be explained and justified with him just being in utter panic about coming out. It would match the catholic guilt arc, and all his previous attempts at conforming to heteronormativity... BUT, if the relationship just continued as is and he'd actively use her as beard that would be shitty, even for poor confused, repressed, closeted Eddie.
The Not Iffy
On with Eddie:
If that kiss brings something to the surface in Eddie and he then breaks up with Marisol one episode later I would not consider that cheating or poor morals or anything of the sort. He wasn't aware of it until that moment, and as soon as he is aware of it and has had a little bit of time to process it, he draws the right consequences from it and breaks off a relationship he's not fully in.
So this would actually be fine to me. This could be the kick starter for a potentially long and complex arc for Eddie to a) come to terms with his sexuality and b) pine for Buck from a distance, because Buck is with Tommy and c) eventually, when the time is right, for Buddie to go canon.
Buck:
The kiss itself wasn't a serious or real kiss. I'd be okay with it, if it was some silly, exaggerated "MWAH" smack of the lips kiss, prompted by someone or something around them - I dunno, maybe one of the women there saying "Aww you're such a cute couple" and they going in for it just for shits and giggles; or Buck gushing about Tommy and what a great kisser he is and Eddie drunkenly, outwardly jokingly saying "Hey, I'm a great kisser too!" and them jokingly leaning in for a smooch, again, for shits and giggles.
Buck afterwards doesn't even remember it because it meant nothing in that moment, and so he's neither seriously physically nor emotionally cheating on Tommy in the slightest.
"But Buck has deep feelings for Eddie. How can he kiss him and not realize them?"
Well, see, Buck has been around Eddie for almost 6 years now and not realized them. They are so, so far past that getting to know and falling in love phase that it makes it a bazillion times more complicated to distinguish those deep platonic feelings from deep romantic feelings (because, what it comes down to in both instances is a deep bond; the bond of love you feel after years of dating isn't that different from a deep platonic bond. Again, Eros vs. Pragma and all that).
But Buck is *in love* with Tommy, he's just entered that exciting, chemically turbulent process of falling in love with someone which, with all the newly formed neural connections and all those hormones overrides anything else that has long since been present and is only now presented with the opportunity to take on a new nuance. Of course he doesn't get it, and he likely won't get it until much, much later, when he's falling out of love with Tommy again for whatever reason, or they break up amicably for whatever reason.
And THIS again is something that could easily go into the iffy, because I would really fucking HATE the implication that Buck needs to break up with Tommy to be with his One True Love. I don't want this to be a difficult and painful choice.
IF (when) Buddie goes canon, I want them both to be ready and free for it and not accidentally pushed towards it, or struggle with a guilty conscience for it, or hurt someone else about it. (Marisol wouldn't count in that context as Eddie would have broken up with her months ago and gone on his own long self-discovery trip).
So yes, even if for slightly different reasons, and even if my views on what constitutes 'cheating' may differ from a lot of yours, I agree that any actual MUTUAL feelings realization right now, under these external circumstances, would totally tarnish the beginning of the Buddie relationship.
Which also makes me hopeful it won't happen in such a way. Up until now, the writing has been extremely solid, and Buck's coming out arc has been done with so much care. I doubt they'd do something that ruins it. (But I'm not 100% sure of it either).
#buddie#evan buckley#eddie diaz#911 spoilers#this is not an invitation for debate#respectfual nuanced exchange and dialog#yes#but don't lecture me on my morals#I'm very solid and confident in them
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okkk wait this is the anon that sent an ask about autistic narinder and leshy hc 😅 i retract my statement they're all autistic 🤯🤯🤯🤯
I WAS LITERALLY IN THE MIDDLE OF ANSWERING THAT ASK TO SAY "I FEEL LIKE THEY'RE ALL AUTISTIC" BEFORE THIS ONE GOT SENT IN, I was two sentences in so your comedic timing was impeccable actually
I know there's like no evidence in-game to back my claims so this is purely a vibe check (and also me being unable to write for neurotypical characters) but yeah no I 100% feel like all the bishops have autism for some reason. They definitely express it in different ways and I was actually thinking about that in the car ride back home tonight??
SEMI-DETAILED HC EXPLANATIONS BELOW THE CUT
For leshy, I feel like since he's the youngest...when he came along, everyone was like "yep. We don't even need to get this one tested" after seeing him in his natural element. Which sounds cruel but that's just personal experience after people in my family started getting diagnosed and we started noticing things about each other better LMAO. I kinda actually designed my iteration of him to be like a big stim toy, I did that shitpost sketch in the last post but even the first time I drew him I was like "this dude is made out of orbs that make satisfying noises when they click together", so if I had to categorize the way his neurodivergency manifests, it's definitely "I NEED TO MOVE AROUND!! RIGHT FUCKING NOW!! MAYBE SCREAM A LITTLE IDK IT JUST FEELS RIGHT!!"
Heket is for sure the one that fights the most against people labelling her with it, just because she's like I'M SO NORMAL GUYS. LOOK HOW NORMAL I AM. LOOK HOW WELL I CAN ADAPT TO CHANGE AND LOOK AT ME NOT FREAK OUT AT ALL WHEN I'M OUT OF MY ELEMENT!! She's the new leader of the family so she does her best to hold it together but if you make plans with her, she's gonna be in Waiting Mode as soon as the plans are made and might tear you limb from limb if you flake or reschedule. Something my therapist told me recently is that me getting absurdly upset over injustices (small or big) is likely directly related to being autistic, so if heket feels like something is wrong she will absolutely be vocal about it. If someone says something mean to her, they are her fucking arch nemesis from that point on. The block button is NOT enough she wants them DEAD
For narinder, I feel like he maybe bonded a lot with shamura over the fact both of them feel pretty disconnected from everyone else? The way his autism manifests is probably the feeling that he's on a completely different wavelength than everyone else, and can't experience empathy the same way his siblings can. He'll like have conversations with people but it feels like someone just talking at him, and him having to mentally choose the dialogue options that make the conversation end the quickest. He probably feels like a completely separate species from everyone else on more levels than just "I am a cat and you are not". I know this doesn't line up with my narinder art so far but I have a distinct characterization of him pre-schism that's completely different from post-schism. I feel like he also resented the other siblings for having the same condition as him but presenting so differently, he felt like he got the short end of the stick.
Kallamar........is a FREAk ABOUT TEXTURES. Bro will actually throw up if he has to eat or touch something gross. He would probably excuse himself to go hurl if he sees leshy combining everything on his plate and shovelling it into his face. I'M actually about to hurl just thinking about it. I have to have lotion on at all times or I freak out when I touch things with my hands, and I feel like kallamar needs to have that famous Cephalopod Mucus Layer in order to exist in his body without wanting to implode. Maybe even a special oil he formulates himself? I also feel like he probably has the most freakouts and has been left crying inconsolably + hyperventilating on the floor over something seemingly stupid MANY times, but shamura is understanding enough to be patient with him and not try to grab him or repeat phrases at him over and over.
LASTLY, SHAMURA DOESN'T THINK THEY HAVE AUTISM. They're like "I love my Neurodivergent Family :) can't relate tho" but all the siblings have unanimously agreed they have something going on up there, even before the TBI. I think they're very book smart, and have little file cabinets of their brain of stuff like "arthropod husbandry" and "dreamcatcher making techniques" but are totally clueless to how other people operate. They don't really know *why* people do the things they do; in my prequel AU thing, they gain most of their social knowledge through people watching rather than like...being normal and just knowing how to behave. Out of all the siblings, they've probably been told the classic phrase "but you don't look autistic!" the most LMAO
Also shamura 100000% has misophonia and that's the reason I didn't have them sitting at the table with the other siblings in the voidpunk comic I did of them. They love their family to death but they have to make the conscious decision to not shake baby leshy every time he loudly chokes down his dinner, so they just sit out meals and eat on their own time. If shamura was real I would build them a shrine and sacrifice my noise cancelling headphones cause idk if they have sound reduction methods in cotl world <3
I know autism kinda encompasses ALL of these traits and isn't something that can be categorized into "this one hates noises, this one needs to follow a schedule..." but I also don't want to just point at one bishop and go "YOU. YOU WILL BE MY VESSEL" because I'd never get to write all that I have in mind if only one character had it. There's definitely overlaps in symptoms between them but I just wrote down what I felt would be the most notable to that specific character. I've been wanting to do a comic about their special interests or the times they just like sync up and have a brain blast jimmy neutron moment, cause usually they're all over the place. I have literally never said the word "autism" so many times in my life I think I gotta cut it here, THIS IS SO LONG. I REALLY DID WANT TO TALK ABOUT THIS THOUGH SO THANK YOU FOR THIS ASK GENUINELY. IDK IF YOU EXPECTED A SMALL ESSAY ON THIS BUT I WROTE ONE ANYWAY
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what's in the box challenge
#f1#mick schumacher#merc.mick#kyle.gif#f1edit#mickschumacheredit#i...I...I am fine I am so fine#I am absolutely normal about mick and lego that is totaly not smth I will lose my mind abt i am NORMAL#I am in fact. thinking about how I can make this look like a pretty header
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I've been reading about xiangqi a bit and now I'm even more obsessed with that one video of Jing Yuan
#Obsessed with the fact they made a point of him not leaving the palace#Anyway I was rewatching this because I still find very amusing that you can see when he steals that piece from the board#Which is something that makes I think more sense considering the ways in which you can check and win in this game#It seems pretty fun actually I think I'll try. Maybe with this being different this time I'll be able to convince someone to play with me#No one wants to indulge me when it comes to chess and I don't like playing online#Hmm actually this game seems less unpleasant to play non physically based on aesthetics#With chess I always have to take out a physical board and it's sort of annoying. The pocket chess I carry around is not much better#Yes I think I'll give xiangqi a try. And look for good books about it and its evolution. I hope I find something#It's always so hard to find things worth reading about topics like these. Like with fencing. Still unsure about what I got about that#After rewatching the video again I have half a mind to make gifs to keep track of his moves. I just really find it very amusing#I love how the move and what is happening in the rest of the video work with what we see him do in the actual game#Personality wise yes but strategically#I think I actually rambled about this in a post a few days ago? Oh wait that was in my main blog I think#I don't know why I make sideblogs if I end up reblogging the posts in the main after all. I always do the same thing#I'll stop now but oh I am really so so fond of him. I think I could talk for hours haha#I talk too much#Jing Yuan#Right now it doesn't seem to appear in the general tag for me but I'll check in a bit again#I really don't know how to organise my rambles anymore with this feature#I miss the five tags thing#Now no matter how much I talk it seems the general tag will always find my posts
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Actually everything has been too complicated and now that the sun is out I've decided that everything is actually easier than I thought and nothing has to hurt me unless I let it
#drinking coffee and smoking in the sun after a decent day of work#i got to work ot this weekend and do a tough job and the day after i hiked w my mom and ran along the beach w the dog#the longer i keep myself away from the narrative the more further removed and at peace i feel#although sometimes its somewhat distrupted when i see them but i reel it back in real quick#it just feels good to know that i dont have to let anyone in and that i have my people and thats all i need#im goung to carry myself the rest of the way through like i always have#and i dont need anyone elses validation#things will come to me when im ready and its right#if i dont want someone to hurt me then i simply dont have to allow them to hurt me#and if i hurt them then oh well. i need to protect my peace and my self esteem#i have things that i would like to work out but i need to accept that everything i want to have happen i cant make happen#ive been through too much and worked too hard and loved too hard and learned too much to let things like this touch me anymore#my self perception cannot hinge on anyone anymore because only i know what ive done and seen and felt and thought in every momemt of my lif#and how i look is not a solid descripter of all the aspects of me#it is not the bulk of my humanity it is hardly a grain of sand#im not angry or sad im just indifferent and ready for something better and healthier and more secure#and the things and people that i can have by relying on my looks do not hold much value anyways#besides. i am pretty. and im healthy and im good w my money and i laugh w my belly and i know a fuck of a lot more than i ever thought#and ive done more than i ever anticipated#i have a lot of things to be so okay with that i shouldnt even have to think about it#and the fact that i ever do is a luxary not given to the bulk of humanity#ive had the privledge to love many times and learn the lessons that accompany losing#and the privilege to make my own decisions and have my own priorities#i have the time and money to worry about frivolous things just like ive had the same to experience some really cool things#i am full of energy and opportunity and love and i get to decide when and where i want to direct that#if i direct it in a place that leave me feeling sad and empty and confused i can put my focus elsewhere unless i deem it worthy enough to#work at#and when ive poured too much in and got too little back ill know to reframe things#its not that complicated and its not that messy#it just is whatever i make it out to be and im tired of making everything out to be more and allow it to define me
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"AFK" - Choso Kamo (with twt links)
"..like fortnite, i’ma need your skin.."
3,012 words.
warnings. nsfw(18+), bf/gamer! choso, oral sex (m rec.), humiliation, desk sex, exhibitionism, trying not to get caught, feral choso, p in v, throat fucking, oral sex (m receiving), overstimulation, degradation, choso whimper links included lol,
notes. my previous drabble abt choso had a lil kick to it, definitely had to make it into a full one-shot! hope u guys enjoy, and thank u for 450 followers hehe, so I included twt links! ^^
credits to @/plutism for dividers, @/adrienwithane for banner.
russian translation by @juliabelll ❤️
Not too long ago, it was Choso's birthday. Being an amazing girlfriend you are, of course you built him a brand new PC. It cost you an arm and a leg, but that didn't matter at all when it came to Choso. Seeing him happy itched a part of your brain, especially when he was the one who would pay for everything: dates, your online shopping carts, you name it.
He never really bought anything for himself. You were getting tired of the countless times that he went on a tangent about how slow his previous machine was. It was doing your head in, so you saved up. For what you now call a 'not-blessing-in-disguise'.
Choso was obsessed with his new PC, and it wasn’t an exaggeration. Part of you was starting to regret it all. The man barely paid attention to you.
Am I the asshole for being mad that my boyfriend likes his gift a bit too much? No, I wouldn't think so. I should be delighted, but it's pretty much getting outrageous.
The fact that he has almost every single game out there on that PC in just a span of one week since he got it - means there's more for him to do. Every day, he'd wake up, do a bit of house stuff then sit his ass down to play with his friends. For as long as he can. Never leaving that room. Hell, he wouldn't even bother answering your messages until an hour later. 'Mb, was on the game' is something that was engraved in your brain by now.
Every time you'd come over, he'd ignore you simply by just gluing his eyes on the screen. If you try to nap, just go home. You've lost track of how many times he's managed to wake you up with his blood-curdling screams. There were times when Choso didn't even notice you leaving, which upset you quite a bit.
Of course, you had moments when you needed him the most. Like, badly. Freshly shaved, he's not even mentally there to take a peek. You could be naked and oiled up in his bed, Choso wouldn't even bat an eye.
…Advice to self, don't get him a PS5 this Christmas.
"Choso," You called out, sat on the edge of the bed behind him. No answer. Per usual, you wanted to rip that headset off his head.
Dark circles were forming around his eyes, endless cans of monster were scattered all over his desk. "Nah let's just fight Oscar, we've got a minute until the circle closes."
Rolling your eyes, a scoff escapes your mouth. Aaand he didn't hear you. Crossing your arms, you furrow your brows. He was honestly testing your patience. "Choso?!"
Choso flinches a bit, pulling one side of his headset away from his ear. His gaming chair spins around to face you. "Baby?"
He knew you were mad. You looked more than pissed. It was really because this recurring behavior of his was getting too much. "Your eyes are always on that screen! Did you even know that I was here!?”
“I-I’m sorry. Look, I'll get off after this game!” From his headset you could hear Choso’s friends teasing and picking on him. They probably heard you scolding your poor boyfriend. You couldn’t care less.
As soon as you were about to speak, he immediately spun his chair back around to face that stupid monitor again. He was too engrossed in the game. It was his squad of four against the only opposing team.
Groaning, you flop back onto his mattress. "..You always say that, and you never do." Muttering under your breath, you stare at the ceiling blankly. What felt like a hammer to your head, Choso's war cries could only get louder each second.
The past few days, you had no choice but to use your own fingers to toy with yourself. You were needy, and you missed your boyfriend's touch. Too bad he was too occupied. How come his keyboard and mouse get to be touched by him more than your....
Using all of your strength, you sat yourself up again on the edge of his mattress. Realizing there's no use in scolding him, you quietly walked up behind Choso, combing your fingers through his hair. You loved when it was down, and he loved it when you played with his hair. He found it relaxing. You could tell by the way his body was no longer tensed up, the back of his head falling heavy onto your hand.
Your hands left his hair, travelling down to his nape. With your freshly manicured nails (which he paid for), you gently scratched his skin on his neck. You could see goosebumps forming, but said nothing about it. Choso who was ticklish, tilted his head to the side - "Mmm," He hummed, telling you off as you were starting to distract him.
Letting out a laboured sigh, you stared at the back of his head. Wondering what to do with him, you pouted. Maybe I should just leave like every other day? No, I can't back down.
He seems really busy. Would he even notice if I crawled under his desk? Grinning, you got on your knees, crawling like a kitty underneath his desk but making minimal noise. You glanced behind your shoulder to see his reaction, but his eyes were still gawking at the flashing screen in front of him.
Coming face to face with his sweats, you kneeled, just in level with his lap. Peeking your head out from the shadows under his desk, Choso had only noticed you then. His eyes widened, the sight of you looking up at him like a puppy had started to cloud up his thoughts.
Grabbing onto his wrist, he slowly let go of his mouse. Bringing his hand to your cheek, he took it in the palm of his hand, eventually giving in and using his thumb to softly caress your lips. "..I missed you, Choso.." You whispered, softly sucking on his thumb. "..I need you,"
His breath hitched, your words were doing something to him. What a fool he was for ignoring you all this time? Just then, a cacophony of voices screaming through his headset broke him out of his trance. Choso's warm hand left your face, causing you to frown. Your fun was cut short. Way too short.
You had enough, deciding it was time you finally got what you wanted. Snaking your two hands up the soft cotton of his sweats, they stopped right at his crotch. His eyes anxiously shot down to you underneath him, telling you off and pointing to his headset.
Placing a finger onto your lips, you told him to just be quiet. His eyes frantically flickered from you, then to his monitor. Slowly, you slid down his pants. Smiling at the way he rose himself up from his seat slightly, so it would be easier to take them off. Of course, he wasn't wearing anything underneath.
Taking his long, thick cock into your hands, you jerked it ever so slightly. Choso cleared his throat, keeping his mouth shut all of a sudden in case he accidentally makes unwanted noise. He was practically melting under your touch, into the chair. Gliding your tongue over his pink tip, he didn't dare look at you. Not long after, your warm mouth wrapped over him, Choso letting out a sigh of relief at the feeling.
You knew how to push his buttons, bringing yourself to fully deepthroat his cock for a few seconds. His lips purse shut, Choso slightly biting down onto his bottom lip. His fingers started to press on the wrong keys, unable to focus on the game.
Pulling away, a string of saliva connected your tongue and his aching tip. You brought your lips back onto his cock, bobbing your head and hollowing your cheeks as you used your two hands to jerk him off at the same time.
The man above was folding at the pornographic sight underneath him. Hearing Choso moan by accident, he quickly covered it up with a cough. “…Yeah, no, I’m good- Just don’t- feel well..”Friends concerned, Choso had come up with a convincing lie in just seconds. His hand reached down to rake through your hair until his fist was full of it. [link]
He lightly pushed your head up and down his length, your mouth making sloppy noises all over, buckets of spit dripping down your chin and his balls.
Ripping his headset off, Choso didn't care about the game anymore. Or his friends. He groaned as you fondled with his balls, giving them a suck afterwards. His light grey pants were turning a darker shade than before. His two hands clawed into your hair on both sides of your face, Choso started to fuck his cock into the back your throat.
Moaning, his eyes shut tightly as his head fell back onto the cushion of his chair. His balls tightening as he heard how you constantly gagged over his thick cock. "Fuck.. Just like that.."
His moans were a mixture of curses and long groans, tears started to well up in your eyes. Choso opened his eyes again, looking down at you as he drew your mouth away from his cock. He smiled, seeing your makeup all ruined, your face covered with spit and so did his lap.
Rolling his chair away from the desk, he grabbed you from underneath. Only to pull it back again, placing it in front of his PC. Guiding his hand on your back, he bent you over on the chair, making your two legs kneel on the soft cushion so you wouldn't tire out. [link]
Holding tightly onto your hair, your head fell back towards him. Choso had ripped the fabric of your leggings that was unfortunately covering your cunt. Grabbing his cock, he lined himself up with your hole, his hands shaking from how eager he was.
Easily sliding in from the slick that covered your hole, you grabbed onto the arm rest in front of you; Choso stretching you out completely. Wasting no time, he began to move his hips back and forth, fucking his hard cock into you.
His monitor started to gently shake from how hard his cock was bullying into you, skin slapping as his balls that were full of weeks load cum made contact with your clit.
"C-Choso.." You cried out, your hand reaching back to his pelvis. Staring at yourself getting fucked like a slut through the reflection of his PC monitor, your ass rippled with each and every one of his thrusts.
Maintaining his brutal pace, his fingers were no longer woven into your hair, reaching out to the headset on his desk. Confused, you kept your eyes open to watch Choso place them over your head. "W-What..?"
His hands gripped onto the flesh of your hips, Choso leaned into your ear. "Keep moaning you slut, let them hear you." All of a sudden he groaned, feeling you clench around him at what he just said. "You like that, don't you?"
Spinning you slightly to one side, his leg went up onto the chair with you, allowing him more leverage to fuck you deeper. "Eyes up at that camera too, show them how pretty you look taking my cock," Tears started to stream down the sides of your cheeks, your face had flushed red.
Choso's hands took a hold of your hair again, his tip kissing your cervix repeatedly. "I.." Speechless, you lost your ability to form a basic sentence. His fat cock left you braindead, at this point you were seeing nothing but stars.
"..Use your words baby," A creamy white ring started to form at his base as his cock pistoned in and out of you. Choso's hand kept stamping down on your back from time to time to make sure you kept that arch. "..Isn't this what you've been wanting all week?"
"Y-you're so deep.. I can't.." Your hand reached back to his abs, twisting the white fabric of his tank top until it was all wrinkly. He took a hold of your wrist, twisting your arm behind you. Choso slightly bent over, his warm body resting against your back.
He quietly groaned into your ear, chanting your name like a prayer. You were fucked out of your mind. "You feel so good.. like this pussy was made for me." The pace of his thrusts slowed down, but his hips still rut into you hard each time. His strokes hard and deep, you swear could feel him all up in your guts. Your jaw had dropped, your head falling back onto his shoulder.
Choso's hands reached under your loose shirt, letting your tits spill out of your bra. Gently twisting your nipple between his finger tips, fondling with your whole breast afterwards, he forgot how much he loved wrapping his mouth around those.
"Your cock.. It feels so good.." You babbled, Choso sneaking his fingers underneath to rub lazy circles on your clit. Your legs began to tremble, fortunately your throat managed to choke out a whine.
Also seeing him in the reflection of his monitor, strands of his hair started to stick to his face. Multiple beads of sweat had formed on his forehead. Choso didn't want to leave your pussy. Not even Thor could pull him out. He enjoyed using you like a cock whore.
You felt so dizzy, mind full of his cock. Choso let out multiple whimpers as he felt his orgasm nearing, his index finger hooking onto the side of your mouth. The very last few seconds, his cock bottomed into you, trying to chase your orgasm. The desk hitting against he wall non-stop, his headset that was on you started to fall off your head.
Leaving a trail of wet kisses down your back, his hand grabbed onto the plush flesh of your ass, continuously giving it a spank every now and then.
The wet, slapping noises of your skin continued to follow, until you felt his thrusts come to a sudden halt. His hot cum shooting inside of you rope after rope, just before he pulled out to let the rest out onto your ass. "..Fuck.. look at that."
Using his thumb to spread your hole wide open, his load spilt onto the black leather of his gaming chair. You panted, tired and hole throbbing. You got what you wanted, that’s for sure. Forcing his headset off you, you couldn't do anything but lean against his desk, trying to regulate your breathing pattern back to normal.
"..We're not done here," Choso laughed behind you, your cunt still dripping of his thick load. His hands roughly turned your body around, placing you on top the desk to face him. Using his foot to push the chair away, he lined his cock with your hole again, using his cum that was already inside of you as lube.
"Oh m-my- Choso!" You yelped, one hand taking grip onto his shoulder for support, the other holding knocking his keyboard out of the way, trying to find something to hold onto other than his shoulder.
His forehead rested against yours, the staggering movement of his hips causing the desk itself to shake under the two of you. Choso watched as his cock disappeared in and out of your hole, grunts coming out through his clench teeth as he wrapped his large hands around your thighs. He wanted more, and wasn't going to stop anytime soon.
"..Good girl," He gritted through his teeth, "..I love t-this pussy, and you." Choso's hands pressed flat against the desk, his lips locking onto yours. His cock was coated in a mixture of his and your own cum, your sweaty bodies intimately hugging against each other.
Choso wanted to feel all you, he just craved more and more each minute. His hands shakily held onto the sides of your waist, his lips moving to your jaw to plant more kisses.
"You're so beautiful, look at me baby." Choso lightly tapped the side of your face, telling you to maintain eye contact.
Obeying, you kept your eyes open; looking into his but not a thought behind your own eyes. You only continued to whine under his touch, overstimulated from how much he's used you like a cock whore. You were so close to losing your mind, drunk off his cock.
Choso too, was lost in your pussy. God, was he whipped— If only he could stay inside you forever, he definitely would. This whole time he was busy cursing at himself, how much of an idiot he is to not appreciate what he has - you. Your cheeks were stained with your hot tears, Choso hushing you and wiping them away every now and then.
“S-Shit, I’m gonna cum again.” He pants, feeling his balls tighten for the second time, the tightness of your pussy heightening his stimulation.
Your hands cupped both of his cheeks, pulling him in for a kiss. His thrusts turning sloppy, you cooed. “..Cum for me, I want it all inside..”
This caused the coil inside of Choso to snap, him desperately whimpering into your ear as he hid his face in the crook of your neck. “F-fu-ck..” Tightly holding onto the flesh of your hips, he made sure his second load stayed inside of you.
Sliding his cock out, Choso rested his heavy cock just above your pussy. Making sure he planted a peck on your forehead, trying to catch his breath. The two of you laugh, your bodies aching and sweaty, his entire desk and chair a mess.
Reaching for something, you blinked as Choso grabbed his headset that ended up on the other side of the desk. Placing one side against his ear, he spoke into the mic. "..GG."
⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ © luvwestwood ‘24 all works are owned by me, and originally come from my own head. please do not re-post on a third party platform without my permission!
⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ as always, thank you for the love on each and every one of my posts! it means the world to me 🎀🩷
[luvwestwood masterlist]
#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#choso kamo smut#choso kamo x reader#choso smut#choso kamo#choso x reader#jjk choso#choso x you#jjk drabbles#jjk smut
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LOVERS LAKE
✸ pairing : luke castellan x fem!reader
✸ synopsis: you & luke escape to the lake and away from counselor duties!
✸ warnings: pre-tlt, established relationship, kissing, me believing whole heartedly that i can fix him
✸ authors’s note: ignoring that it’s literally christmas & this is so summer-coded, charlie bushnell brought back my original series luke obsession so here you go 🙈
the lake was arguably the best place to be at camp half-blood, even for someone who hated the water and was all but dragged their by somebody else who loved it.
that someone was you, and the somebody else was luke.
that boy loved swimming in the lake like the stars love sitting in the sky, and the only thing that made it better was when you were there with him.
between knowing that fact and the pleading look in his pretty puppy eyes, how could you say no?
so now you and him were in the lake together, on a rare escape from your responsibilities as counselors during rec time. you may or may not have been hiding from your campers by staying hidden by the boathouse that stored the camp’s supply of canoes.
you were clinging onto the wooden dock while your boyfriend swam about, still putting on your angry facade at him after he threw you in the water initially.
was the way he scooped you up in his big strong arms and grinned like a little kid when he jumped in with you absolutely adorable? yes. did that mean you were going to let him get away with it? absolutely not.
pouting with your arms wrapped around the dock leg, you watched as the boy’s head disappeared underwater, not missing the mischievous glint that lingered in his eyes beforehand.
and just as you had expected, a wet head of dark curls popped up just beside you. just to be annoying, he shook his head like some kind of dog and laughed when you scrunched your face up at the flying drops of water.
the little loser laughed at you. now you were definitely mad, and would’ve crossed your arms and harrumphed if you weren’t still holding on to the dock like you’d die if you let go.
“are you ever gonna leave that poor dock be and actually come swim with me?” he asked, batting his pretty long eyelashes like he was pleading for you to do what he asked.
“go away.” you grumbled, looking away from him.
“aw, c’mon sweetheart.” he cooed, his tone teetering between teasing and sincere.
you felt familiar hands wrap around your waist as luke pried you away from the dock, ignoring your words of protest.
“you are literally going to drown me.” you frown as you have no choice but to hold onto him.
look, it wasn’t that you couldn’t swim, it was just that it was going to take one hell of a monster chasing you to make it happen.
“oh my gods, i am going to die.”
you were now out of arm’s reach of the shore, left with nothing but your boyfriend to keep you afloat. dam it.
“would you relax? i’m not gonna let you drown.” he chuckled, smiling at your antics as he kept both you and himself afloat.
“well you pushed me in, so you may as well.” you responded, sticking your chin up in dramatic negligence.
“hey, it was push you in or get caught and have about seventeen campers join us. which would you rather have?”
the first option, obviously, but you weren’t going to tell him that.
instead, you stuck to the silent treatment, which meant luke was left to his last and final resort.
“guess you leave me with no choice then,” he feigned a regretful sigh, even though you both knew he was ecstatic to do what he was thinking.
“wha- no. no no no no!”
luke had let go of your waist for no more than two seconds before you had screamed and clung onto him for dear life, your arms tightly wound around his neck and legs around his waist.
“i’m going to kill you, castellan.” you grumble, unable to see his reaction as your cheek was pressed against his.
there it was again, that gods damned chuckle of his that made your heart do little somersaults.
“love you too.” he said humorously. but when you didn’t reply with the same phrase, it was his turn to pout.
“hey.”
between the pout in his voice and the poke he delivered to your sides, you knew that your inattention had had just the effect you wanted.
this was the dance the two of you had done several times before. he’d annoy you, you’d ignore him and then you would relish in the way he turned into a lost puppy when it lasted for ten seconds too long, proving once again just how tightly you had him wrapped around your finger.
“hey. hey. hey.”
he poked you again and again, repeating the same word in hopes that you’d look at him, but you remained relentless.
“i’m not forgiving you that easily.” you insisted, as if your faces weren’t inches away from each other and water wasn’t the only thing between your body and his.
once again, he knew you too well to know there was little truth to your words.
he pressed a kiss to your cheek in hopes to get you to finally turn your head and look at him. again, nothing.
“hey, pretty girl.” he whispered, growing desperate and excruciatingly impatient. “would you at least look at me?”
feeling as though you’d drawn it out rather excessively, you listened and looked at him.
immediately, your lips were captured by his in a sweet kiss, the lake water seeping in between and tainting the flavor.
when he pulled away, luke wore a smirky kind of smile that made you want to kiss him again just to get rid of it and the giddy little feeling it gave you.
“am i forgiven now?”
he was, but instead of saying that, that was when you splashed a wave of water in his pretty little face.
#୨୧ love letters#｡ﾟ･ׂׂ daddy issues (kj’s version)#luke castellan x reader#luke castellan x fem!reader#luke castellan oneshot#luke castellan imagine#luke castellan x you#percyjackson#percy series#pjo show#pjo x reader#charlie bushnell#luke castellan#luke castellan pjo#pjo#percy jackon and the olympians
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jjk men & their sleepyhead gf !
featuring. gojo satoru, sukuna ryomen, nanami kento x fem! reader
warnings. none, just them being all soft and whipped for you
note. first of all, anon i am so sorry, i accidentally posted your request on the queue list and fml, i'm so embarrassed but idek how to edit the queue list so out of desperation i deleted it— but i ofc screenshotted this before i deleted the og post, so i am so sorry :(( i hope you enjoy this, and i hope you get to find out i didn't delete your ask and it's here in a form of a screenshot :((
GOJO SATORU. i feel like he doesn't mind most of the time— he does mind it if you fall asleep when you're supposed to be paying attention to him >:(
but whenever you fall asleep, his camera's always on standby, snapping pictures of you from every angle. whether you look good or bad (you never look bad btw), from up above, from below, from the left, from the right, with 0.5, i can go on.
and when you wake up, you find your phone blowing up with notifications from shoko, geto, and him, especially with the notification "@gojosatoru tagged you in a post" and it's just a slideshow post of you sleeping, a few close up shots, and your face with different instagram filters.
you don't even bother at this point since he's not going to stop, and not gonna lie, you did find it a bit funny. and the comments from shoko and geto made you laugh, so... good luck trying to sleep around him, you'll wake up to a whole album of you sleeping on his account.
"satoru, what the fuck is this filter?" it was a filter that made your face a little distorted, and gojo'd just sitting there innocently, blinking his white lashes up at you.
"you look adorable, princess."
"i don't want to sleep around you anymore."
"no, please sleep— how am i supposed to continue my daily updates of you sleeping?"
mind you, he has 200 posts on instagram and 150 of them are just you sleeping + with the cheesiest captions like "my baby is sleeping, pls tell her to wake up bcs i miss her 🥺🥺🥺"
and shoko is all up in his comments like "wake her up yourself, dumbass she's literally in your house."
SUKUNA RYOMEN. the first time you fell asleep around him was when he went out to get a glass of water, but he didn't think of it as anything and thought you were just tired.
but no— you fall asleep anywhere, whenever and most of the time. he gets pretty frustrated when you both spend time, and in a bit, your head leans onto his shoulders and sukuna checks on you, and you were out like a light.
"y/n?" soft snores.
he clicks his tongue in annoyance but doesn't push you away or get angry, although he finds you cute. sometimes snaps a few pictures to keep, but you don't know about that.
and at times, you wake up all tucked in your bed—your favorite plushie beside you, and sukuna nowhere in sight.
you open your phone and there's a few text messages from him.
[ you fell asleep, so i left ] he didn't leave, he said that to make you feel bad and for not giving him enough attention— he stayed in the same seated position for a few hours before prepping you onto your bed, tucking you in and not forgetting to place a smooch on your forehead.
[ call me when you wake up ]
[ love you ] awww.
he's so in love with you.
NANAMI KENTO. he's such a gentle soul, he won't mind if you fall asleep or is asleep whenever he comes over. in fact, he enjoys it when you fall asleep.
he read somewhere that if someone feels tired or sleepy around a person, it's because they feel safe. so nanami just concludes that his girlfriend feels safe around him, safe enough for her to get sleepy and fall asleep on him.
"kento," you murmur half-asleep, stretching your arms.
"hm?" he hums out, opening his arms for you to fall into — which you did, and he craddled you in his arms, placing his cheek onto your head.
"night night." it wasn't even night time, you just had to say it before you go to sleep, and nanami finds you so cute he couldn't help but to squeeze you a little.
"night night," he replies back, kissing your forehead.
nanami just sits there and continues craddling you in his arms, and if he needs to go, he would put you on your bed (on his bed when it's his house), and writes you a short message why he needed to go and when he will be back.
© CHURIPU 2023 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE !
#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jujutsu kaisen x reader#fluff#jjk fluff#sukuna ryomen#gojo fluff#gojo satoru#sukuna x reader#female reader#nanami kento#nanami x reader
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