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klausysworld · 4 months

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Hello gorgeous!

Sooo I had this idea of Klaus and reader being married (she wants a divorce) but currently separated. She starts seeing Damon. Klaus lets her have her way for a bit as nothing has crossed the line, but then he finds out reader slept with Damon and Klaus goes absolutely feral over it and tells his wife that’s enough of this and drags back reader home and slides her wedding ring back on her finger.

Not His, Not Yours.

Klaus and I had slowly but surely grown apart.

We had married for decades for now, just over a century actually and to begin with it was all but a dream.

He had hundreds of thousands of gifts and words to express his love. Paintings and poems to show how pure his feelings were.

He was gentle when I needed and only ever rough when I wanted when him to be.

There wasn’t a question of doubt between us both. I loved him with all of my heart and he loved me with all of his soul. So much so that he actually proposed to me. Elijah and Rebekah couldn’t believe it but were unbelievably supportive. I even turned into a vampire so that I could be with him forever.

And for a nearly eighty years, everything was okay.

Of course the gifts were less frequent but I didn’t care about that so much. Not if I still had him. Even if he forgot to tell me he loved me, I didn’t need him to, deep down I knew that he did.

One thing I didn’t like, was when he would get flirty with other women. Especially because of how he behaved when I, heaven forbid, smiled at a man.

But still, with reassurance from his siblings and Elijah’s promise to talk to Klaus about it, I dropped it and didn’t speak of it. So he flirted, it didn’t mean anything. What’s a kiss when I have his heart?

Surprisingly Klaus never slept with anyone else. I suppose it’s unfair to say surprisingly but to be honest I had feared and expected him to have from time to time.

Especially when he became more distant. When he would disappear or return in the early hours of the morning. I would beg to know where he was and after a series of repeated yelling, he would grab me and show me his memories of the night before. Often he just got drunk and would pass out somewhere random or wonder around for inspiration, sometimes he’d attack a village and slaughter hundreds in mere hours. When finished showing me, he would give me that same look and tell me that I shouldn’t look so surprised. He may love me, but he wouldn’t ever be better for me.

And I would just nod and told him I already knew that.

And I’d wait for the next time that would happen.

We went days between sex, then weeks, gradually months and eventually we just didn’t. We slept beside each other mostly out of habit but we wouldn’t touch.

I never stopped loving him, I don’t think I ever could but I wasn’t sure if I loved him the same way anymore. And I certainly didn’t think he loved me that way. But we weren’t exactly friends either. It were as though we were just strangers at this point, strangers who held each others hearts.

And I had accepted that perhaps that’s all we would be. We lived that way for a couple of years, I’d stay with him like a shadow but that’s all I would be.

Until Mystic Falls.

So much happened in not enough time. Klaus became his true self and for some reason part of me thought perhaps that would rekindle something but he showed no more nor less interest so I just went on.

Until one day, his eyes held a spark. But it wasn’t for me. It was for Caroline Forbes.

She was blonde, young and new to vampirism but still bold and confident in herself. I was like that once, before I grew quiet and obedient to Klaus’s will.

So I took another step back and let him chase her a little. I sort of wanted him to sleep with her so that maybe he would just divorce me and I would know that what we had was really over.

But he didn’t. He gave her a present, drawings and spoke poetry to her without her realising but he didn’t kiss her or even lean in.

He still would come back to bed and lay beside me like usual.

I didn’t want him to think I would hate him if he fell for someone else. I’d rather he be happy with another than miserable with me. I knew he craved more, so did I.

And so with a lot of courage, I asked for a divorce but he refused me. That I didn’t understand.

“Why?” I asked, my brows pulling together as he scowled

“Because you’re my wife” he answered as though that meant anything anymore “I have loved you for a century. I will not just be done with you”

“Loved, Klaus. Loved. It’s in the past.” I argued

“I love you now as much as I did then” he told me, his voice raising

“No Klaus…you don’t” I whispered, my eyes glancing to the floor as I let out a small sigh. This was probably one of the reasons he liked Caroline more. I showed weakness and submission too easily to him. The difference was that I knew he wouldn’t kill me if I fought back but I feared it would be worse.

“We’re not getting a divorce. Ever.” He stated calmly, though I could feel his anger.

“I can’t do this Klaus” I mumbled. “I can’t just be known and your wife and hide in the house all the time”

“Then go out” he grumbled

“You don’t let me” I answered, remembering the last time I went out without telling him and he yelled at me for being inconsiderate and stupid. Apparently it wasn’t safe for me without his protection due to being so intimately associated with him.

“Well…now you can” he replied matter of factly.

“You should ask Caroline out” I whispered “She likes you too, Rebekah heard her talking to Bonnie about you”

“I wouldn’t-“

“But maybe you should” I sighed, hesitantly looking him in the eye once again. “You should at least try…you might like to be with someone…” I paused and swallowed dryly “someone else”

“Are you seeing…someone else?” He asked quietly, his eyes flicking between mine.

“No…not yet” I whispered and he nodded

“But?”

“But I think I should” I murmured before falling back into silence.

We stood there for a while, uncomfortable and guilt ridden before his phone went and he reluctantly left.

He didn’t come to bed that night.

To me that seemed like his way of confirming that we wouldn’t be together anymore, or for a while at least.

When I saw he had made up a bed in one of the guest rooms, it was clear that was the case.

So I started to go out a little.

When I saw Klaus with Caroline at the grill, I realised I needed to leave. Leave town, his life so that I didn’t ruin his chances.

But as fate would have it, when I rushed out of the building, I walked straight into Damon Salvatore. He recognised me in an instant and was grinning like a Cheshire Cat.

“What’s Klaus’s wife doing out and about?” He snickered and I sighed

“I’m not” I mumbled and he raised a brow

“Not what? Not his wife or not out?”

“I’m going home” I whispered, walking outside but he followed.

“Oh come on, I didn’t mean to scare you off so quick” he chuckled and I rolled my eyes

“Please. You couldn’t scare me” I muttered “have you seen who I’m supposed to be married to?”

“Supposed to be eh? Things not turning out?” He pressed, walking backwards beside me as I made my way back to the mansion.

“My marriage falling apart won’t benefit your precious Elena. It’s been broken for years.” I grumbled, and he rolled his eyes

“Forgive me for being curious” he muttered, his annoyance shining making my heart sink. I didn’t like it when people were rude and now I was the one doing it.

“Sorry” I whispered “I didn’t mean to sound so snappy”

I could feel his eyes on me as we neared the manner and before I could get it the door, his hand reached for mine which however pathetic it may seem, made my smile. Nobody had touched my skin for months.

“You should come out more, I’d like to talk with you some more” he told me and I faltered

“I wouldn’t tell you anything- not about him”

“I didn’t think you would” he answered, before leaving.

After that I went out a little more.

Damon would tease me and make me laugh. He would draw out the little confidence I had left and have me use it. I’d taunt back at him and go so far as to flirt once I’d had a few drinks.

After a while he asked to take me out. I thought he was joking.

“Oh will Elena be joining us? Perhaps Stefan to?” I laughed but he didn’t even smile

“I’m serious” he stated, his hand squeezing mine “just us…anywhere you want”

I stared at him “I um…I don’t know” I whispered, nervous and confused.

“I can wait” he answered as he caressed my arm softly.

When I got home Klaus was already there, his eyes on me in an instant. Without a word he placed his wedding band on the table before him and walked out the room. I felt a lump form in my throat as I shakily slid both my wedding and engagement rings off and put them beside his.

I went upstairs and cried. And I felt stupid for it because I was the one who asked for this.

So after a moment I pulled myself together and grabbed my phone. I took a breath before sending Damon a message

I like the Italian the next town over?

He replied quickly

Friday, 7?

I’ll meet you there

I’ll see you soon

I swallowed thickly and closed my messages before searching for apartments near me to rent.

If Klaus and I were actually ending this then I wanted to do it right. That meant I needed to live without him fully, so I sent in some applications to a couple of places.

Before any of them could come back, my date with Damon came around.

It went surprisingly well. We ate, spoke, joked and laughed. He paid, insistent that I shouldn’t. He then drove me back to the mansion and kissed me goodbye.

I refused to look anywhere near Klaus when I went up the stairs. He never said anything either, we spoke only if we absolutely had to and on the occasion that Damon and I would see Klaus out, we would instead go to his house for a while.

I spent a lot of time with Damon, he made me feel more alive. He brought back the spark in me that I thought I had lost and built my confidence back up. He made me feel more things in a couple months than Klaus had in the past fifteen years.

I knew it was wrong to compare them, but when all I had ever known was Klaus…he was all I had to know how a relationship worked to be able to tell if what I had with Damon was really something.

It progressed quickly, it scared me somewhat. I worried that it was a trap to make me help him with everyone else. However when I heard him defending me to both Elena and Stefan, I double guessed myself.

Slowly I felt myself begin to trust Damon, I felt as though I was learning to love and desire once more.

It was because of that feeling that I didn’t stop him when he began to take my clothes off. Or when he trailed his lips down my skin and pressed his mouth between my legs. I cried out for him when his fingers curled inside me and I clung to him when he finally took me as his own.

I stayed beside him for the rest of the night, pressed to his chest with his arms around me. It was a warmth that I wasn’t used to anymore but that I needed and yearned for. I stayed at his house for days after, wearing his clothes and living in his arms. But unfortunately I knew that I couldn’t just move in there so soon, so I had to go back to the mansion.

————————————————————————

(3rd person)

Klaus found out that Y/n had slept with Damon the day after it happened. Stefan had told him so when in the heat of an argument.

To begin with he thought the Salvatore was just trying to piss him off but when Stefan’s face dropped and his heart sped up, Klaus realised it was true.

Immediately he went home and smashed every item in her room. Shredded her clothes and tore up every flower Damon had gifted her and the little photos she had printed of them. It was after he broke apart her bed and found the box of forgotten memories did he calm down. He found all the poems and pieces of artwork he had ever given her, love letters and other tokens of their love kept safe and close to her. It broke him.

Klaus never meant for their marriage to deteriorate so badly. He loved Y/n, truly. But throughout the years he got distracted. Whenever his family got to town, his focus was off her and whenever a threat showed up he made a point of being distanced from her to ensure they wouldn’t attack her. After the first few times he’d done that, she got upset and wouldn’t want to kiss him, not when he would go weeks of ignoring her and then expecting her affection.

So he began to drink some more, to forget her touch and her voice for just a moment. But it made everything worse. She began to worry he was cheating on her and to be honest he couldn’t blame her for thinking that but in the moment when she would accuse him, he would be outraged.

He couldn’t stop himself from yelling, being offended and snapping. But after, when he would hear her cries and see her curled up in their bed, he would push himself further away in hopes that he wouldn’t be able to hurt her as much from a distance.

It only got worse.

And now he was on the floor of a room that was once his aswell, crying for his marriage that would no longer last.

Eventually he dragged himself up from the floor and went back to his own room, or rather the spare room that he had been sleeping in. He dug through his drawers to find their rings that he took after they both removed them and put his wedding band back on, smiling sadly at the fond memories of the first time she had put it on him.

He held her rings in his hand tightly as he heard the front door open and closed quietly before soft footsteps sounded up the stairs.

————————————————————————

(1st person)

I moved as quickly but as quietly as I could up to my room. I was in jeans and one of Damons shirts so I really couldn’t let Klaus see me.

Hurriedly I opened my bedroom door only to come to a standstill. Quite literally everything was on the floor. If I didn’t know what Klaus was like, I’d have thought a hurricane had passed through the room. I stared blankly for a moment before I both heard and sensed his presence from beside me.

“What did you do?” I whisper, staring at all the little things that meant so much to me scattered and broken into pieces.

“I don’t want you seeing him” he told me, his voice firm. My head snapped to his and I felt both anger and sadness swirl inside me.

“You ruined everything I have” I uttered, my voice still barely above a whisper

“You slept with him” he stated his tone cold but his eyes showed hurt and I part of em felt guilt but the other side just wanted to smack him.

“And?” I asked, my volume increasing slightly

“And? And you’re mine. You do not get to sleep around-“

“For crying out loud Klaus! I am not yours!” I yell, pointing my finger at him “And I do not sleep around! I slept with one person”

“I should have stopped you seeing him ages ago, this shouldn’t have happened” he muttered

“You can’t control every aspect of my life Klaus. We are not together anymore. We agreed on this” i whispered, my tone tired.

“We have not agreed on anything! I never wanted this-“

“Klaus we haven’t agreed on something for a good twenty years! It’s why we’re here” I exasperated

“That does not give you the excuse to fuck someone else” he growled and I glared

“Why? Did you plan on fucking me? Because I highly doubt it Klaus. And even if you wanted to, I wouldn’t have your hands anywhere near me now” I retorted.

I knew immediately that he would speed at me and so moved out of the way, he continued to chase me round the house until eventually he had me against the wall. Both of us were panting heavily, my hands pushing at his chest but he kept me caged.

“Get off me!” I cried, kicking my feet at his legs but he only grunted and held me as still as he could. I shoved at his chest with as much strength as I could but it was obvious that I couldn’t overpower a hybrid. He faltered only slightly at the impact before his hands were grabbing my waist to lift me. Without thinking I brought my hand to his face, smacking him as hard as I could manage.

His head cracked to the side and my eyes went wide. Slowly, he turned back to me. His expression was one of surprise as he stared at me. I felt myself grow meek under his gaze and my bottom lip wobbled.

“I’m sorry” I whispered “I didn’t mean to do that- I didn’t…” I felt his hold on me weaken but I didn’t move this time. My hand tingled from where I’d hit him and so did the guilt that pooled in the pit of my stomach.

His arms slipped around me, hugging me to him and I just didn’t know how to react.

I love Klaus. I do, I always will. But I couldn’t just pretend that every bad thing hadn’t happened and fall back into his arms. I wondered if in Klaus’s mind, if he thought that just sleeping with me and telling me that he found me pretty would be enough to fix this marriage. I knew it wasn’t but I worried for what he thought.

Still, I hugged him back gently. By touch reluctant but there. His warmth enveloped me and I felt my eyes water at the once familiar sensation.

“I missed you so dearly” he mumbled, his face lowering to nuzzle the crook of my neck. He pulled away slowly and grabbed my left hand, I looked to him blankly as he slid both rings back onto my finger. “I’m gonna fix everything” he whispered

“Klaus-“ I sighed

“Just let me try” he murmured

“I-“

“Please” he whispered and I sighed softly. Only the lords know whether I was going to make the right decision or not.

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classypauli · 2 months

Text

She’s the Man

Pairing: Jenna Ortega x fem Reader A/N: I don’t even have words, I definitely wasn’t expecting this feedback, you guys made my day. Thank you for all the likes, rebloggs and comments!! You are the best!! Warning: alcohol, drunk people, grammar mistakes, bad punctuation in complex sentences, spelling errors Word count: 4.8k

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Y/N was walking down the hallway with Mason, they didn´t share many classes except literature. It was one of her favorite classes. Y/N becomes a little nerd if someone asks her about history, paintings, architecture, or literature. When she was a kid, she wasn´t into this kind of things. She used to do a lot of sports and her grades weren´t great but also not worse.

When she started to go to a high school she stopped. Her grades became better and soon she was topping most of her classes. Her classmates saw her as someone intelligent, she wasn´t just book smart, she had good opinions and when she started talking people listened to her, she didn´t know why, maybe because she didn´t talk much so they became interested in her talking.

But she never talked about herself. She was always trying to avoid any questions about her. Y/N didn´t know why she did that. She felt more secure that way, less on target. She likes to keep things like this together. When she used to tell someone about her problems she didn´t feel relief, it was the opposite, she was scared that it wouldn´t end with that person or that they actually didn´t care and just listened to her cause they didn´t want to be impolite. So she found peace in her silence.

When she struggled she picked up a pen and notebook. She kept writing and writing until she forgot why she started. She never read it. Felt ashamed of her words and her feelings. She wasn’t alone after all, she had her family and brother, so why did she still feel so lonely? Y/N knew she wasn´t good with words but she wanted to be better.

When she became older she found herself in poems. Sometimes she was writing about her feelings, other times she was writing about things she likes, saw during the day, or just about her day. In some way they made her realize that being focused on bad things won´t bring her good feelings. And she felt stupid, of course, it was like this but talking about it and behaving according to it were two different things.

„How was your weekend?“ Mason asked as they walked side by side to their class, passing by some of their football teammates, shooting them nods.

„It was pretty good, got some sleep, how about you?“ she shot him a glance. Y/N still can´t believe that someone like him exists, he is so kind and helpful. Today after school they are having practice, she was kind of on the edge of her toes because on saturday they have the game but Mason supported her and calmed her nerves.

„Me too, there was a party going on, it was quite good but it would be even better if you were there.“

They walked into a class and took a seat, chatting about some festival going on this week when suddenly Percy came into a class. He saw her shot her a quick nod and started to make his way to them.

„Hey, Charlie! I didn´t see you almost all weekend!“ Yeah, they were always avoiding each other but not on purpose, Y/N was always somewhere and when she came to the dorm Percy wasn´t there yet, he was sleeping or it was the other way around.

He turned to Mason but didn´t say anything. It was weird, like some tension between them. They just kept looking at each other till Percy asked her about her Friday night.

„How was your hang out with your teammates?“

Mason shot her a questionable look but Percy didn´t seem to notice that. Y/N got stuck. Now there was no way she could keep lying because clearly, Mason was sitting beside her, she could say that she felt sick so she canceled the plans or-

„It was great.“ Mason said from beside her. „Why are you interested? You wanted to join us?“ he asked and kept looking at him for an answer. Y/N knew he didn´t mean the question that way but silently thanked him for saving her. Percy looked at him, stunned, as he wasn´t expecting his statement.

„No, of course not.“ After that, he walked away somewhere behind them to find a free chair to sit on. Mason looked at “Charlie” again with a slightly raised eyebrow.

„I´m not going to ask, if you want to tell me you can, just so you know, I don´t want to force you.“ He said softly. Mason can see the way his teammate is. How she only talks when someone asks her something. He sees how she acts and holds herself. He also can see that something is off but can´t really say what. But still, he has this urge to hold a protective wing above his new friend.

„Thank you, Mason.“ Y/N shot a small smile his way and he gave it back to her. Class began and she can only hope that Percy will forget about their small but tense interaction.

Soon the mentioned festival came. Y/N was walking around by herself not really sure where to head to. There were all the students from her school running around. She saw Georgie on the bench, he was holding big candy floss in his hand looking excited at it. The girl wanted to laugh at him, he looked really funny. Slowly she came to him with a small teasing smile on her face.

„Aren´t you a little too old for this?“ Y/N asked him looking at his change of face at her question.

„There is not something like an age barrier in eating cotton candy!“ Georgie shouted and turned his face around, acting angry at her. Of course, he was right, she liked it too, she just saw the opportunity and took it.

„Yeah, believe whatever you want“ Y/N smiled „Where is the rest?“ she was hitting on Hunter, the two boys were always together, they truly were like brothers, always bickering but supportive of each other. Percy was also a lot of time by their side but Hunter and Georgie were glued by the hip.

„I don´t know I´m waiting for him.“ He said as Y/N slowly took a seat by him. „And what brings you here? Shouldn´t you train for your upcoming match?“ he looked her way.

„Today we have a free day, coach was talking about him having some show at the festival.“ Y/N was looking forward to her match and wanted to be ready, hoping he would let her play for at least a couple of minutes. She wanted to find out how her body would react. She was a little nervous but this stress was healthy. It kept her going.

„Me and Hunter will come to watch you.“ The girl looked at him shocked. He was eating his candy floss with his fingers all sticky.

„You like something else besides eating and taking photography?“ she teased him and he looked at her with lowered eyebrows.

„I didn´t say I enjoy watching it, I just want to see how you lose your first game.“ Georgie laughed then Y/N punched his shoulder. „Ouch! I was only joking you know!“

She stopped and looked around her, feeling like someone was watching her and she was right. There was a girl not so far, looking at her with folded arms and a smirk on her face. She had long brown hair and was short. She started to make her way to the two of them. Y/N straightened her back and waited for what this girl had to say.

„Hey, I don´t think we know each other but my roommate talks a lot about you.“

Now that made the girl sitting on the bench stop. Roommate? She had never seen this girl and Y/N wasn´t sure where she should know her roommate from. The only girl she talks to is Jenna but she´s almost sure that she has no reason to talk about her.

„She is working in the photo booth, I´m sure she would be on top of the roof if you came to see her.“ She still has that teasing smile on her face.

„Uhm... yeah, sure“ Y/N lets out looking at Georgie who´s trying to hold his laugh. The girl left and he lets it out.

„Shut your mouth and keep eating.“ She hissed at him but he only continued with his laugh.

Soon she found Mason and some of her other teammates, they talked about the game how excited are they and how they would smash their opponent. Her brother called her again, saying how his tour was going and he wished her luck. Their parents luckily aren´t suspicious so everything is going according to plan. She takes her walk around the festival, looking at all kinds of booths and how people are enjoying themselves. She stopped by one and just stared, she saw Jenna, and she sat in one of the booths on her face her significant smile. Suddenly the brown eyed girl looked up and saw Y/N. She smiles wider and she indicates with her eyes at the side of the booth. Y/N slowly walks there are is greeted with Jenna´s hug. This was the first time they hugged and Y/N couldn´t focus on anything. She was shocked by the girl´s body language but also glad cause this meant their friendship became stronger.

„Hey, I was looking forward to seeing you today.“ Jenna backed her way out of their hug and looked up at her, still with their bodies close to one another. Y/N looked where they were and she saw that Jenna was working in a... photo booth.

„Uhm... yeah? Why? Do you need something?“ the other girl asked looking down at her again.

„No, I just wanted to see you.“ There goes her dimples again. They are so cute. Her whole face is too pretty. Y/N wanted to say something but was cut off by another voice.

„Hey football player glad you finally decided to come.“ She turned to Jenna „I found her when I went to the toilet, couldn´t hold myself from inviting her to our booth.“ She shot her teasing smile. Jenna face palmed herself, she could already imagine how she approached you and what she said. Gideon was like that, she is a big matchmaker but also really attentive and sweet when it's convenient.

„Charlie this is Gideon, Gideon Charlie.“ She pointed her hand from one to another.

„Hey Charlie, I heard a lot of things about you.“ She smirked and Jenna pushed her away, awkwardly looking around as she stood in front of Y/N.

„Ehm...so, I heard you have an upcoming game this Saturday, are you excited yet?“ the shorter girl asked as she looked at her feet, arms folded. Y/N found her cute right now, how she couldn´t look at her like she did before her roommate interrupted them.

„I pretty am, even though I don´t even know if I will play, I´ve been training only two weeks, and I’m not sure if the coach will let me play.“ She shook her shoulders.

„Oh I´m sure you will be playing, you are one of the best on your team.“ Jenna winked at Y/N and smiled at her. „I saw you a couple of times.“

Now, Jenna was acting as if she had seen her just a couple of times but the truth is, she saw her every practice. She doesn´t know why, at first she just went there cause she didn´t feel like going straight to her dorm, but when she saw you she knew that she wanted to see you again. You were so good. You acted like a totally different person on the field, you were confident and energetic, and your every move was calculated. You could easily catch someone´s attention. You caught Jenna´s attention.

Y/N felt a lot more confident because of Jenna´s words. She wasn´t the first person who said this to her.

„Will you come to see us?“

„Are you inviting me to watch you on your game?“ Jenna teased her.

„Well, if you already have some plans you don´t have to, I mean you probably have better things to do than to watch some stinky players running around the field chasing the ba-“ Y/N didn´t even finish her sentence and the other girls cut her off.

„I will come“ Jenna wouldn´t miss your first game, she was excited to see you being competitive. There was something about you that was always bringing her thoughts to you. You were such a good listener, a soft speaker, and intelligent. She doesn´t think she has ever met someone like you in her life. You were like a fresh air to her stereotypical life. She wanted to be with you cause every time you are together, you give her something new.

Jenna watched Y/N. She couldn’t tear her eyes off her. You were like someone else like they switched you. In-person, you were sweet, quiet, caring, and soft. On the field, you were almost aggressive but not in a bad way, you knew what you were doing. This was definitely your alter ego and Jenna was here for every second of it, you put on quite a show. Running back and forth in your jersey, defending than attacking, the ball moved exactly where you wanted it to move. You were fast, probably the fastest one on the field.

Jenna enjoyed it so much. She used to play football when she was a kid with her family when they spent time together and also in school. But that was a long time ago, she may not play it anymore but she still likes to watch it.

The girl moved her eyes as you got the ball on your foot and started to run trying to get near the opponent's net. Players trying to stop you, running after you, trying to slide their way to you, nothing works. When you got near the goal area you tried your luck and shot the ball into the net. The opponent's goalkeeper couldn’t see the ball because of his teammates standing in front of him, making the ball straight to the top corner. Whistle. Goal.

Jenna stood up clapping her hands big smile on her face as she watched you running to your teammates to celebrate your success. The whole tribune of the students from your school is clapping, yelling supportive words, happy that they are winning against a different university. Your coach is standing near the field with his arms folded and a proud smile on his face. It was definitely a good idea to put you in the first lineup.

“Charlie! That was so good!” Mason tapped your back, he had the biggest smile, and he was so happy for you. You were a big talent.

The game went on and it was almost the end, Y/N became calmer because they were leading. She shot her gaze a couple of times at the tribune and every time she could see Jenna looking at her, she hoped she was enjoying this. Y/N also saw Georgie and Hunter, both boys beside each other smiling widely at her with their thumbs up, Georgie with a hot dog in another hand.

Soon the game ended, and they won 3:0. Y/N was glad that her first match was successful and hopefully, she impressed others. In the changing room, her teammates were chanting, happy about their first match. After that, she walked out of the changing room, bag on her shoulder, still in her football jersey, she’s planning to take a shower in her dorm. She knew that they were a bit suspicious about her cause every time after practice she just took her bag and left, unchanged. But they thought maybe “Charlie” was just shy which was okay not everyone liked showing off skin, even if it was in front of the same gender. Y/N was near the entrance looking into her phone, texting her brother about her game.

„Hey football player.” She looked up from her phone and saw Jenna leaning on her side into the doors looking at her.

„Oh hi, wasn‘t expecting you, did you enjoy the game?” the girl asked as she got closer to her. Now they were looking at each other holding gaze, Jenna looked up biting her lip. You look good right now. Still being in jersey, sweaty forehead, hooded eyes from the energy you gave on the field. If this was someone else she was sure she wouldn’t find them as attractive as you right now.

Jenna nodded her head „Congratulations on your first successful game, pretty cool goal if I have to say.” She says softly still looking at the other girl.

„Pretty cool? It was awesome! Didn’t you see how I ran through half of their players and still shot it?” Y/N started defending herself „I was unstoppable.”

Jenna threw her head back letting out a laugh. She grabbed Y/N by the arm and started to pull her outside of the building.

„Come, we need to celebrate your first win”

„Wait, but I’m still in these clothes, I can’t go anywhere like this.”

Jenna shot her a look „There isn’t any problem if you ask me, but we can stop by your dorm?”

They walked out, still holding each other's hands, Y/N didn’t want to be rude and tear up their hands, she liked this feeling, Jenna’s hand was so soft and warm. Y/N felt good with Jenna, like she has finally someone just for herself.

But her thoughts went to her words, what if her roommate was there and saw them together? He would beat her up. But it was afternoon and he used to be at this time somewhere in the amphitheater.

Y/N agreed as they started making their way towards the dorm rooms. They chatted about some party going on tonight. Jenna’s friend Gideon invited her. Jenna was about to decline but her roommate said there would be also a football team probably celebrating their win. That made Jenna say yes to her offer which Gideon only laughed at.

To Jenna “Charlie” was special, she didn’t know what caught her attention, something inside of her wanted to be with you, by your side.

Luckily for Y/N, Percy was nowhere to be found. She invited Jenna to their room she took her new clothes and went to get a shower. Jenna was sitting on Y/N’s bed, looking around trying to find something which would only make her closer to her friend. Your bed smelled like you, she loved your scent it was like citrus with cedar or something like green tea, she couldn’t describe it in one word. On your desk were books and a notebook, you had it perfectly organized, and everything had its own place. Yeah, you are definitely a perfectionist. When she looked at the other side of the room she could exactly say who was the owner.

The paintings and papers spread around the desk and floor, different types of art. She found them a couple of times in her locker, at the table where she sat, or in her mailbox. Paintings of her. At first, she found it cute but it kept graduating as she got them almost every day. And it was always herself.

But maybe she would be glad, if it ended just with this.

She was in a room where lived two people. One that makes her most pleasant in their presence and the other one she feels most uncomfortable with.

„So what´s your plan for today?“

They were eating in some corner restaurant, Jenna got herself some vegan food, and Y/N sat in front of her with a plate of big burger and some fries. It felt good seeing them like this, both out of student uniforms in their civilian clothes, enjoying each other´s company.

Jenna wanted to know, inconspicuously, if her friend in going to the local party that night. If she said yes then Jenna would also have some plans, that´s for sure. Even though she doesn´t like parties, not anymore.

„Well, some of my teammates are going to some party, I don´t know where, they asked me if I´ll join them.“ She said as she kept eating her fries. „I haven´t decided yet, I´m not really into parties, too loud for me.“ That really didn´t answer her question.

„What about you? Any plans?“

„Gideon was saying something about today´s night but I´m not sure yet.“

„Oh, cool.“ And just like that they continued eating their meals, both hoping, at some point they´ll see each other today. Jenna looked up from the table to Y/N, the girl looked flawless right now, with her invincible walls down, silently eating a burger. Jenna pushed her hand up and stole some fries from her plate. Her friend looked at her with her head not moving from her meat, unimpressed. Softly shook her head from side to side.

„You are lucky it´s you, if it was someone else they wouldn´t have a hand by now.“ She said. She didn’t mind sharing food, sometimes, and she definitely didn´t mind sharing food with the brown-eyed girl.

Y/N was thinking. About Percy to be exact, about their deal or more like his, because he isn´t doing anything to repay. But she promised him she would at least try. And she also tried. When she and Jenna had classes together, like when they were lab partners, she could feel Percy´s stare. His eyes were boring into her skull so hard that sometimes she could even feel a headache. When she looked up at him he moved his eyes to the other girl and back to her. Signalizing what he wants from her.

So she asked. She asked Jenna if she was dating anyone or if she ever thought about going out with Percy. Jenna only laughed at her and shook her head, trying to avoid any questions about him. Y/N could feel something was off, the brown-eyed girl knew the boy and still didn´t even look at him or say hi to him. But Y/N doesn´t know why is she like that. Something happened between them and she wasn´t sure if she wanted to know. It wasn´t her business after all.

After Y/N´s questions, Jenna felt conflicted. She was used to guys asking her out, trying something with her but not you, you were different. You are the only guy who hasn´t tried to get with her. And she liked that. But when you asked her about Percy and said that she would be perfect for him, she almost wasn´t sure if she heard you right.

Perfect for him. But would he be perfect for her? Jenna knew the answer to that question. She disliked him. For what he made her feel. Jenna didn´t want to be perfect for him, she wanted to be perfect for you. And it took her quite a long time to realize that she liked you more than a friend. She talked to Gideon and Emma about it, they told her the same thing.

But did you feel the same?

Jenna was now standing in someone´s living room. Loud music and drunk students were escorting her thoughts. She was looking for her friends, they agreed that they would meet there. She saw Gideon sitting on the sofa, cup in her hand. She was talking to someone Jenna recognized from school. She sat beside her and her roommate looked her way.

„Hey, glad you could make it.“

„What are you drinking?“ Jenna grabbed Gideon´s cup and smelled it.

„Vodka, I got it from the kitchen, down the hallway to the right, you want me to go with you?“ Gideon was sweet, she knew Jenna didn´t enjoy such a thing as a party.

„No it´s okay, I´ll get it, maybe I´ll see Emma or Joy somewhere.“

So with that, she picked herself up from a sofa and started to go into the kitchen. There were a bunch of teens, she barely could make it through them. Some were really drunk and the scent of strong alcohol could be smelled from them. Some guys who saw her shot her flirtatious smirk. She brushed them off and was trying not to make any eye contact on her way. When she saw football players she immediately started looking around if you weren´t somewhere over there. No, you weren’t. She was looking forward to meeting you today but still with no luck. She hoped you would decide to go there.

She made it to the kitchen took a cup in her hand and started looking for some juice. She didn´t feel like drinking, maybe if she was at home with some close friends or you, she would drink but she was at a party, by herself in a stranger´s kitchen.

„Hey.“

Jenna heard a voice from the back. The girl turned around and saw someone she was trying to avoid at all costs. She hoped he wouldn´t be there today but of course he would, they are in the same school after all.

Percy was standing by the kitchen entrance, eyes low, looking at her. They were alone there and loud music could be heard from the other room. Suddenly she didn´t feel safe. The last time they met they were in a room full of people and it still didn´t stop him. Now they were alone and she felt even more scared cause there was nothing that could stop him from doing whatever he wanted.

„H-Hey.“ She shot him nodding with her head and continued with whatever she was doing, with her shaking hands, acting like he wasn´t even there in the first place. But she could feel his cold presence closer behind her. She turned around and was met with his face. He smelled like he just drunk a whole bottle of alcohol. She took a step back from him.

„Is there something you want?“ Jenna asked him. He never broke the eye contact, slowly smirking.

„Yeah, actually, you could help me with something.“ He went to grab her hand but she pushed him.

„Stop, you know what happened last time-“ he cut her off.

„I don´t care! Why can´t you just give me a chance? We could be so good together. You like that, right? You like it when guys are chasing you, it makes you like you are in charge, well Jenna, now it´s different, now I´m in charge here.“

„Please get away from me you are scaring me.“ She felt like crying like she got stones in her throat. Still walking away from him, praying that someone will show up and save her. She felt so small in front of him, no one had ever made her felf like this, like she was some prey.

„What are you doing?“

She turned her head to the new voice that was heard in the kitchen. And she was so glad, felt like she could breathe again. There was you looking at him, no emotion in your face, then you walked up to them and looked right into Percy´s eyes.

She had never seen you like this, you were so serious and didn´t show any emotion. You continue your stare down without blinking. Even though you were shorter than him, not much, you still had a bigger and stronger aura than him.

„Is there a problem?“ Y/N could smell the alcohol from his mouth and could see that he didn´t know what he was doing. So that´s why she knew she couldn´t show that she was scared. It would make him even more confident.

His eyes changed when he realized you were here to get him away from Jenna.

„Charlie, what are you doing? We had a deal! You promised!“ he shouted at his roommate. He knew he shouldn´t trust you. He is sure that you like her. You want to take her away from him!

He started to breathe harder and his eyes became more dangerous. You weren´t scared of him, you were calm and waiting for his next move.

„Leave.“ Y/N said with a low voice, face unimpressed. But before he could say anything else Mason and a couple of others of your teammates came into the kitchen.

Mason walked up to the three of you and stood even taller than Percy. Percy was now in a corner and had nothing to do. So he smiled dryly and walked away.

When he left Y/N turned her gaze to Mason and silently thanked him for standing beside her, he smiled at her with his soft eyes and left with their teammates. You turned down to Jenna and saw her already looking at you. She was hugging herself and looked so gentle and small.

„Hi, you good?“ Y/N asked, almost whispering, waiting for the other girl's answer.

„Yeah.“ She softly let out. She then threw her arms around the taller girl. Head buried in her chest. Y/N hugged Jenna strongly, letting her know that she was there with her.

Yeah, Jenna was sure that you were perfect for her.

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dreamcubed · 2 months

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i don't wanna live forever | mattheo riddle x reader

song; i don't wanna live forever [taylor swift, zayn] pairing; mattheo riddle x fem!ravenclaw!reader genre; ex2l, reconciliation, ex-lovers, angst, smut, hurt comfort(ish) word count; 2,8k timeline; half-blood prince warnings; swearing, toxic relationship, jealousy, controlling behaviour, mattheo is not a good person, neither is y/n, borderline cheating (not on y/n or mattheo), smoking, alcohol consumption, drunkenness, arguments, drunk sex, piv, fingering, degradation, ass-slapping summary; ever since you began dating, you and mattheo had been a fiery and toxic mess of breaking up and getting back together - only, when you finally try and date someone else, you realise that you miss and crave the unhealthy pattern that came with mattheo riddle

MINORS DNI! 18+ content.

i don't typically write smut but this oneshot felt incomplete without it. so, enjoy... 2 year anniversary & 1k celebration gift haha

masterlist

"wondering if i dodged a bullet or just lost the love of my life."

——————————————

"I mean, why did you even date him in the first place?" Cho asked you, chewing on a chip, "He's literally You-Know-Who's son."

You sighed, used to this conversation from every person you knew, "You can't judge someone by their parents."

"The apple doesn't fall far from the tree."

"Cho, his dad went MIA for thirteen years when he was one and his mum was in prison until last year. He hardly knows them."

"But," she said, "He was raised by the Malfoys and he was sorted into Slytherin."

You rolled your eyes.

She shrugged, "I'm just saying, the red flags were there."

You didn't reply, moving your gaze over to the group of Slytherin boys sat laughing with each other while they ate. Your ex-boyfriend, Mattheo Riddle, was sat among them.

It felt too definitive saying ex, however, since you two broke up and made up constantly, and had for the last year and a half, much to your friends' horror. You argued with him, you cried over him, you talked shit about him - but you loved him. And the love you had was a burning flame of passion, but it wasn't healthy. You had broken up a week ago, which was actually the longest you had gone without talking.

Normally, you would have caved by now, but you felt different this time. You felt immensely stubborn.

"It's time you stayed apart for good," Cho said, just as Mattheo's eyes locked on to yours, "He's bad for you."

You knew she was right, which was why you accepted when a nice Hufflepuff boy asked you to Hosmeade that weekend.

***

The bouquet of pink and red flowers being presented to you really should have given you butterflies, maybe even made you squeal, but they horrified you. Nonetheless, you smiled and said, "Awh, thank you. You shouldn't have," before taking Leon's extended arm and letting him lead you to the Three Broomsticks. He pulled the chair out for you, and you forced another smile on to your face.

"I've been wanting to ask you out for ages," he said excitedly, "But you were still on and off with Riddle."

You hummed.

"I'm glad you're done with him. He didn't treat you right."

It was mutual. You were just as toxic as Mattheo.

"But I will."

"Well, thank you, Leon," you said gently, "We'll see, won't we?"

He beamed at you, "You're so beautiful."

Surely such a comment should make you blush, right?

***

"How was the date?" Cho wiggled her eyebrows back in the Ravenclaw dormitories.

"It was... good," you said, placing the flowers on your desk haphazardly.

"Just good?"

"He's really nice, I- I just..."

Cho frowned, "He's boring?"

You shook your head, "No, he's funny and interesting."

"Then what's the issue?"

You shrugged, "I don't know."

"Give him a chance then, babe."

***

Leon wrote you poems, he took you on cute dates, he fed you, he walked you to classes, and he hung off your every word. But your eyes would always linger over to Mattheo - because despite everything Leon did for you, the only time you felt butterflies anymore was when you made eye contact with your ex-boyfriend. That glittery spark had never once burnt out in those long eighteen months you were on and off. Every argument and break up only seemed to make it burn stronger and brighter.

And the thing was, Leon was too healthy for you: too sane, too trusting, too normal. Mattheo had turned you into a raging jealous monster, as you had him, and it was part of the reason you were on and off. Neither of you had ever actually cheated, but if you got too close to a boy? He would start an argument and scream at you until you yelled back that you were over. Two days later, he would corner you, never truly apologising but kissing and making up, muttering how he loved you before fucking you until the sun came up.

And you had done the same thing to him.

That was the issue with Leon: he was friends with everyone. Some of his closest friends were girls. Were you jealous? No. But you knew if you began to develop feelings for him then you would become more jealous than an innocent boy like him could handle. You would ruin him the way Mattheo ruined you, fucking him up for any future romantic endeavours.

It drove you crazy how respectful he was, how he didn't bat an eye at you saying you were going to study with a male friend. You needed more push and pull than what he was giving you: you craved a fight, because you craved the crazed passion that came with it.

Yet, three weeks passed by and Mattheo had made no effort to do anything more than glare daggers at you and Leon from across the room.

Then the Christmas holidays hit.

***

A rich Hufflepuff in your year - not Leon - was hosting a house party at their gigantic home, and you had scored an invite. In fact, so had everyone in your year, including a few people from the year above and year below. Leon had immediately owled you to say that he would pick you up before heading there, but you knew that as you patted on concealer and highlight, you were thinking about Mattheo's reaction when he saw you. He had hated when you dressed too revealing, saying that he could see guys' eyes on you - and he wasn't wrong, you just didn't care.

You had purposefully dressed yourself in a tiny black miniskirt and matching bralette, which as a combination left very little to the imagination. With the fishnets you adorned as well, it was borderline lingerie.

Maybe Leon would finally argue with you and make you feel something.

"Y/N, you look gorgeous," he beamed, not a trace of anger on his perfect face when you opened the door to him.

"Thank you," you said, fighting the urge to sigh, "You don't look so shabby yourself."

"Shall we?" he held out his hand to you, which you accepted.

***

The party was already in full swing when you arrived, and you made a quick motion to catch up by downing two shots. Leon watched you in amazement.

"You want one?" you asked, going to pour another drink.

He shook his head, "I don't drink."

"No?" you paused in your movements, thinking that maybe this would be the time you finally argued, "I drink a lot."

"Each to their own," he shrugged, "I'll look out for you."

"Thanks, then," you said awkwardly, "I'm gonna go for a smoke, you coming?" Had you partially said that as another attempt at angering him? Yes. But you also were craving nicotine.

He shook his head, "I'm good, we'll catch up in a bit, yeah?"

You nodded absently, pouring a third shot for yourself before creating a mixed drink and heading outside to the smokers' area. And, there he was, Mattheo Riddle stood with a cigarette between his lips and a drink in his hand.

Pulling out a cigarette that you had tucked in your bralette, you boldly walked up to the group of Slytherin boys and asked, "Anyone got a light?"

Nott, who was right next you, passed you his, but you never took your eyes off Mattheo. His eyes glided up and down your exposed body as you lit your cigarette and took a long drag, relishing in the taste. You watched his jaw clench.

"You and Duggard official yet?" Berkshire asked, referring to Leon. At his question, a borderline growl erupted from Mattheo.

You shrugged vaguely, "We'll see."

"Will you?" Mattheo asked coldly.

You exhaled some smoke, "Well, he's handsome, smart, funny and attentive to my every need."

"Oh, is he?" Mattheo stepped closer to you.

Chuckling, you said, "He's a very kind man."

Mattheo scoffed, pushing past you with a mutter of, "That's not what you need."

He was right, of course, but he didn't need to know that.

You turned your focus to your cigarette.

"He's not the same without you," Nott said casually, dropping his finished cigarette on the ground and stepping on it.

"No?" you murmured, a smile tugging on your lips.

"He hardly sleeps, hardly eats, is angry all the time," he continued, "So, please, stop your little charade with Duggard and get back with him already."

"Who says it's a charade?"

You heard Berkshire scoff, "C'mon, L/N, everyone sees you stare at Matt all the time. Everyone except Duggard, that is."

Biting your lip, you ashed your cigarette, "Well, maybe Riddle should man up and apologise."

***

The party raged on, and as the alcohol flowed through your system, so did the music. Leon didn't seem that keen on the party atmosphere, so you resorted to dancing with Cho and other Ravenclaw girls. That was until you felt a guy come up behind you and begin dancing with you.

You turned around to see a Gryffindor boy from the year above, and he wasn't half-bad looking, so in your drunken state you allowed it to happen. Cho gave you a sceptical look, but didn't intervene.

A hand tugged on your wrist, and you looked up to see Leon.

"Can we talk?" he mouthed, and you nodded absently, following him to the quieter room that was the kitchen.

"What?" you said a little harshly.

"I'd appreciate if you wouldn't dance with other guys," he said, his tone completely without malice.

Your instinct in these situations was to get aggravated, so you snapped, "Well, if you actually knew how to party, I wouldn't have to."

Leon stared at you blankly, "I'm sorry."

For fuck's sake, why did he have to sound so genuine?

"I'll try and come out on the dancefloor if that's what you want."

"Fucking hell," you cursed.

"What? What is it?" he sounded worried.

"Why don't you argue with me?" you exasperated, tugging at your scalp.

Leon frowned, "That's no way to resolve things."

"It's not about resolving things," you snapped, "It's about passion, it's about the spark, it's- it's..." you trailed off, "Rowena, I feel crazy."

"I understand your relationship with Riddle wasn't the easiest one, but I want to help you learn what a calm and healthy relationship is," Leon said gently, "Because you deserve better."

"Are you even listening to me?" you pulled your hands down your face, "I don't want peace. I want passion. I want twin flame bruises. I want a push and pull."

"I-"

You cut him off, "Mattheo would have beat the shit out of that guy for dancing with me."

"That guy probably didn't know you were taken-"

"Mattheo made sure that everybody knew I was his," you said firmly, feeling tears prick at your eyes, "I just need to argue, Leon - I crave it."

"Well, I can't give that to you."

"Y/N," a voice spoke in a growl behind you.

You span around, being faced with the one man who could make you feel electric. And that was when your emotions crashed all over you: upset and anger expressed through tears and yelling.

"Why are you taking so fucking long?" you screamed.

But he wasn't looking at you - no, he was glaring at Leon. "I think you've had long enough with my girl, Duggard," he drawled.

"She's not your girl anymore," you heard Leon reply, before he said to you, "What did you mean when you asked him why he's taking so long?"

You saw Mattheo clench his fist, and you grabbed his wrist to halt him, "Fucking talk to me, Riddle."

His eyes snapped to yours, "I will never be Riddle to you, princess."

"Considering we've hardly spoken the last few weeks, I'd say you are."

"Guess I'll have to remind you who you are to me, then," he chuckled darkly, pulling you away from Leon. The Hufflepuff boy went to follow you worriedly, but you glared at him and he stayed put. Part of you felt bad: a tiny, sober part.

You found yourself in an upstairs bathroom, pressed against a cool tile wall.

"If you ever pull a stunt like that again, I can't promise I'll be a good person about it."

"You're never a good person about anything," you muttered, relishing in his hot breath fanning on to your face.

He smirked, "We both know that's the way you like me."

You hummed, "Fuck me, Mattheo."

"I'm not sure you deserve a good fuck after everything you've done."

"I never fucked him."

"No?" he chuckled, "Good."

And then his lips were on yours, tasting, sucking, nibbling every centimetre. His hand quickly trailed to underneath your skirt, rubbing your clit through your scandalously thin panties.

He pulled away from the kiss, "Don't ever wear anything like this again," he kissed you again, "At least not in public."

"Whatever you want."

He hummed his approval, pushing your panties aside to push two fingers inside of you.

"Please, I just want your dick."

"Yeah?" he murmured, "How bad?"

"So bad, please," you begged, your tear and mascara stained cheeks enhancing the puppy dog eyes you gave him. Mattheo had to admit, he loved seeing you so desperate for him.

"You really don't deserve this," he sighed, unzipping his trousers.

You licked your lips as you watched him pull his rock hard dick out.

"I can't wait to feel your mouth on it again," he muttered, "But I'm feeling nice, so I'll just give you what you want."

Mattheo bent you over the sink countertop, lifting up your skirt and slapping your ass in the process. He pulled your panties further aside.

"Don't act like you don't just miss being inside me," you forced out, making him slap your ass harder.

To your surprise, he said, "Of course I fucking did."

And then he pushed inside you, quickly and without warning, causing you to gasp loudly.

"So fucking wet."

You arched your ass up to him, moaning.

"I don't think I'm gonna last long."

You were hardly able to reply, as he had begun to run circles on your clit as well. But, you agreed with him, as the absence of this feeling had made your body hypersensitive to Mattheo's every touch.

"Fuck, you're such a whore," he murmured, picking up the pace relentlessly.

"Your whore," you managed to say, your eyes rolling back into your head as you felt your orgasm build up.

"I bloody well hope so," he chuckled.

And then, as you both came closer to ecstasy, things went silent - the only noise being his groans, your moans, and the sound of skin slapping.

"Matty, I'm gonna co- fuck!" you cursed, feeling your release wash over you in red hot passion, your vision going white as your every limb shook. You didn't normally orgasm so easily.

He continued to fuck your overstimulated pussy, gripping your hips so hard it would probably leave bruises. "Gonna fill you up," he choked out, his breathing growing heavier as you finally felt his dick throb inside you, signifying his release.

Mattheo stilled, staying inside you for a moment as you both processed the situation. Eventually, he pulled out, helping you turn over so you were sat on the counter facing him. You were both panting.

"I'm sorry," he said eventually, and your eyes widened.

He had never outright apologised before.

"I'm sorry too," you mumbled back.

"I love you so much," he pressed his forehead against yours, "I just I-"

"I love you too. So much."

He hummed, "I just- I don't understand my father. I don't want to live forever."

You frowned, "Why not?"

"Because," he took your hands in his, "Without you, I'd just be living in vain."

A smile stretched widely on your face, "Want to leave this stupid party?"

"I thought you'd never ask."

And as you left the party, hand in hand and evidently in a post-sex haze, Mattheo said - loud enough for a few close people to hear - "I'm gonna marry you, you know that?"

And you did.

———————————————

masterlist

written; 25/02/2024 —> 09/03/2024 published; 09/03/2024 edited; —/—/——

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lendeah · 2 months

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Valentine's Day Special!

Merryment Festival

Synopsis: To commemorate the Merryment Festival in your hometown, you decide to give Astarion a gift. Pairing: Astarion x GN! Bard Reader Words: 2.6k Tags: Valentine's Day, Valentine's Day Fluff , Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, just cute stuff

a/n: HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY!

"Back in my hometown, we had an annual festival called Merryment Festival," you said wistfully, tracing your finger over his bare chest.

He arched an eyebrow and smirked. "A festival for merriment? How delightfully cheesy."

You smiled, lost in the memories. "It was held at around this time of the year every spring and was a big event in our town."

"I never would have guessed that there's a single festival in your tiny little village."

You rolled your eyes, playfully punching his shoulder.

"What did you picture, Astarion? That we only had cows and pigs and chickens? That's so stereotypical..."

The vampire laughed, using his cold fingers to brush your hair away from your face. "Then enlighten me, my dear. What exactly is this festival you speak of? Please don't tell me it's just another reason for the common folk to get drunk."

You leaned into his touch, your eyes fluttering closed.

"Actually, there is plenty of drinking involved," you admitted with a chuckle. "But the Merryment festival was a time for everyone to come together and celebrate life and love."

"Celebrate love?" He let out a snort. "So it is an excuse for everyone to get together and make more commoners. How utterly wonderful."

A pout formed on your lips as you absorbed his words, a twinge of disappointment stirring within you at his lack of enthusiasm for your favorite festivity. But you were determined to show him just how special it was.

"It's not just about making more commoners, Astarion," you argued. "It's about celebrating love in all its forms. It's a time for couples to reaffirm their love for each other and for singles to hope for new beginnings."

"Oh? I wasn't aware that the commoners needed an excuse to fornicate." Astarion sneered. "They seem to be doing just enough of it without this Merryment festival of yours."

"Astarion! It's not like that!" you whine, "There was music and dancing. Everything was covered in wild flowers. And there would also be competitions for the best couple dance or the most romantic poem!"

"So you're telling me the entire village throws a party for the duration of an entire week to... Dance? And compete for romance?" Astarion looked at her, his mouth curved into a smirk. "That truly is a spectacular waste of time, the village must have nothing better to do."

You narrowed your eyes and crossed your arms. "It's not a waste of time, Astarion. It's a celebration of love and life."

Astarion's fingers absentmindedly traced patterns on your back as he challenged, "What about the people who are here alone? Do they just sit and watch as the couples make a spectacle of themselves?"

"Well, kind of... But sometimes they can participate in the competitions as well, or find someone to dance with." You explained, getting a bit flustered.

"Oh, so you danced with your villager loverboy then?" he prodded, a hint of teasing in his tone.

You swallowed nervously.

"I mean, I was there, but I mostly just watched from a distance."

Astarion's eyes widened and his hand paused its gentle caress on your back. He burst into a fit of laughter, his voice filling the room. You felt a wave of embarrassment wash over you as you realized you had just confessed your biggest secret to him - that you had never experienced the joyous festivities of the Merryment festival.

"That's preposterous! How can you love something so passionately when you have never experienced it yourself?" Astarion exclaimed between giggles.

You couldn't help but feel a twinge of shame and guilt wash over you. It was true, you had always been too shy to join in on the festivities. While everyone else was out there dancing and having fun, you would stay hidden in the shadows, watching from afar.

"Um... well, I guess I just never found the right person to participate with." You mumbled.

Astarion's mischievous smirk softened into a warm, genuine smile as he took in your shy admission. He leaned in closer, his lips almost touching yours.

"Oh darling, I think you already have found someone." His breath brushed against your lips, sending shivers down your spine. "How lucky I am to be your first," he purred.

You tremble beneath the thin bedroll, your exposed skin prickling with goosebumps and your cheeks flushing a deep shade of crimson. Astarion's words left you at a loss for how to respond.

"I never would have imagined..." you stuttered, still trying to process his confession. "I often dreamed of dancing with someone and exchanging gifts according to our tradition... if only I had met you back then." Letting out a sigh, you gazed into his eyes and reached up to gently stroke his cheek. "But it doesn't matter now. You're here with me, and that's all that truly matters."

He grasped your hand and brought it to his lips, leaving a tender kiss on the back of your palm. The gentle gesture sent a shiver through your body, and you couldn't contain the smile that spread across your face.

"And what present would you have preferred to receive from your hypothetical significant other?" he asked, softly.

You paused for a moment, thinking back to your childhood fantasies of Merryment festival. "Maybe a book? Or a new flute?" you pondered deeply before coming to a sudden realization. "No, no! I know exactly what I wanted." You gave him a small smile. "I wanted someone to write me a dedicated poem."

"Ah, a poem?" Astarion wrinkled his nose in disgust. "Of all the things you could want, and you want a poem?"

His reaction made you pout. "I think it's romantic," you say, hoping he'll see your perspective. "But I guess romance isn't really your forte. The closest thing to romance we've shared was when we read that erotic book together."

Astarion reclined in his seat, a cunning grin playing on his lips. "My dear, if you were seeking lovey-dovey poems and romantic gestures, your time would have been better spent with Wyll or Gale."

You snorted. "Yeah, how unfortunate I fell in love with a grumpy vampire."

"Excuse me? I am not grumpy! I simply... I don't like all the fluttering romance. I'm more of a practicer, more a... seducer."

"Practicer," you chuckled, "That's a nice way to put it." You leaned into him, feeling the cold of his body against yours.

He gently wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer. "And there's no better way than practically demonstrating my love for you, my dear."

You bit back a grin, your heart fluttering in your chest at his words. "So, you're saying... seduction is your way of being romantic?"

He gave you a quick peck on the lips. "Romance is a game for amateurs."

"You're incorrigible," you teased lightly, poking him in the side.

The two of you spent the rest of the evening talking and laughing, occasionally stealing kisses from each other. As the night wore on and your eyelids grew heavy, his strong arms enveloped you, cocooning you as you drifted to sleep. Your mind wandered to the Merryment Festival, just days away, and a wave of longing washed over you. How bittersweet it was to have finally found your soulmate after years of searching, only to be separated by a thousand miles from your hometown festivities.

But then, an idea ignited in your mind: why not give Astarion a gift? It didn't have to be anything extravagant, just something simple yet meaningful. Something to honor the spirit of the festival and show Astarion that you cared for him.

The next morning, you awoke with a renewed sense of determination. The sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon, casting a warm glow through the small cracks in the tent. As Astarion peacefully meditated beside you, you carefully untangled yourself from the bedroll and tip-toed out into the brisk morning air. With a destination in mind, you set off towards the bustling Baldur's Gate town market, eager to find the perfect gift for Astarion. Amidst the rows of colorful stalls, you skimmed through an array of goods, admiring handcrafted trinkets and aromatic spices. The smells of fresh bread and exotic fruits mingled together, creating a tantalizing aroma that filled your senses. Each stall seemed to hold its own treasures, but you were determined to find something special for your companion.

Eventually, you stumbled upon a quaint stall adorned with exquisite, handcrafted jewelry. Your gaze was drawn to one unique piece in particular: a scarlet pendant that shimmered with a particular aura. As you approached, the stall owner, a strong half-orc woman, immediately noticed your interest.

"Ah, you have an eye for the unique, dear," she chimed in with a warm smile. "That is our special Bloodstone Pendant. Every piece is crafted from a drop of blood and imbued with powerful magic."

Your heart pounded in your chest as you picked up the piece, the stone cold against your fingers. A drop of blood...

"How is it made?" You found yourself asking.

The elderly woman's eyes twinkled as she explained. "A willing volunteer donates a bit of blood. That blood is then petrified through an ancient magical process only known to our kin. It's then shaped and set into the pendant akin to the one you now hold."

"And what makes it so unique?" you asked curiously.

"Every stone contains the emotions of its donor. When the holder touches it, they can experience those emotions as if they were their own. It's like carrying a piece of someone you love with you at all times."

Without any hesitation, you readily agreed to give a small sample of your blood. The half-orc woman smiled warmly at your eagerness and guided you to a small table in the rear of her stall. She arranged a vial and lancet on the table, ready to extract the needed blood. As she pierced your finger with the lancet, a sharp pain shot through your hand. But you ignored it as you watched the drops of blood fill the vial, mesmerized by its deep crimson color.

Once the vial was filled, the woman carefully sealed it and began working on shaping it into a pendant. You could feel a strange energy emanating from the stone as she worked, almost like it was pulsing with life.

Finally, the woman presented you with the finished product: a beautiful scarlet pendant with intricate designs etched into its surface.

"Thank you," you said with genuine gratitude, as you paid for the necklace. "This is perfect."

The woman smiled warmly at you. "It's my pleasure," she replied. "I hope it brings joy and love to whoever wears it."

The bustling market slowly faded into the background as you made your way back to camp, eager to give Astarion his gift. The pendant, nestled against your pocket, radiated warmth and seemed to hum with anticipation. As evening descended upon the camp, and you and Astarion settled in for the night, you reached out and took his hand in yours. He looked up at you with curious eyes.

"I have something for you," you said with a gentle smile, holding out a small velvet pouch to Astarion.

He raised an eyebrow inquisitively, taking the pouch from your hand. He opened it and his eyes widened in surprise as he saw the beautiful pendant inside. He held it in his hand, turning it over to examine it closely.

"What is this?" Astarion asked.

"It's a gift for you," you replied. "Happy Merryment Festival."

Astarion's lips curved into a genuine smile as he gazed at the necklace. "A blood pendant." he said.

You frowned slightly, "How did you know?"

"It reeks of your blood, darling." He brought it closer to his nose, inhaling deeply. "Though, what a lovely smell it is." His fingers gently traced the elegant patterns, his smile growing wider. "Thank you, I truly adore it," he said sincerely, his gaze meeting yours.

You watched him with a small smile, enjoying the peaceful moment before speaking.

"Now you will always have my blood with you, even if we are not close." you finally said.

"Is that so?" he murmured, reaching up to touch the pendant reverently. His eyes fluttered closed for a moment, and you could feel him experiencing your emotions as if they were his own. When his eyes finally opened again, they shone brightly in the dim light of their shared tent. "It's... remarkable."

"I'm glad you like it," you replied softly.

Astarion's gaze settled on you again, and before you could process what was happening, his lips were pressed against yours. The kiss started off soft and tender, but quickly grew heated as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you in closer. You couldn't help but shiver as his fangs gently grazed your skin.

After a few moments, he pulled back slightly to catch his breath. His thumb gently brushed across your cheek as he stared into your eyes. "You truly are one of a kind," he whispered.

The two of you stayed in that position for a few moments, relishing the comfort of each other's company. Reluctantly, he broke away and seemed to fidget with nervousness.

"I- um." He cleared his throat uncomfortably. "I have something for you too."

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"Really? You don't need to give me anything just because-"

He rolled his eyes as he tried to hide his nervousness with a cocky grin. "Come on, darling, humility is such an unnatractive trait. I know I don't have to, but I wanted to," he stated confidently. However, his hands shook slightly as he reached into his bag and retrieved a petite book, extending it towards you with eagerness. He whispered a "Happy Merryment Festival, or whatever" under his breath, trying to sound composed but failing to hide his true emotions.

Turning the small book over in your hands, your fingers graced the embossed title on the cover. It was a collection of poems, each page filled with graceful handwriting. Your eyes widened as you realized that the handwriting was Astarion's.

"These are... your poems?" You asked, your voice echoing with surprise and awe.

Astarion nodded again, looking slightly embarrassed now, but feigning nonchalance. "I have been compiling poetry over the years, just for the chance I would have someone deserving to gift them to. And now that I have someone... you who has so graciously been keeping my life interesting, I just couldn't pass up the opportunity."

You looked up at Astarion, your heart swelling with emotion. "They're beautiful," you whispered, flipping through the pages and absorbing each word. The pages were filled with beautiful handwritten verses, each one more passionate and lyrical than the last.

"Most were only written while I was in a particularly romantic mood, though some I wrote specifically for you."

His words made you heart stop. He had dedicated you a poem. No, he had dedicated you multiple poems. Each word poured from his soul onto the page, declaring his love in the most beautiful way. As you read them, tears pooled in your eyes, moved beyond words.

"This is... I'm..." Your voice faltered as you struggled to find the right words. "I can't believe you wrote all of these," you finally managed to choked out between sobs, unable to contain the overwhelming joy and love in your heart. The pages felt like a treasure.

"Well, I have been around for quite some time," Astarion quipped with a smirk, trying to lighten the mood.

But his attempt at humor only made you cry harder. With a sigh, he wrapped his arms around you and soothed your back with gentle caresses. After some time, your tears began to subside and you pulled back slightly to meet his gaze. "Thank you, Astarion. This is the best gift I have ever received," you said sincerely, feeling your heart swell with love for him. And this time, you knew he could feel it too, through the pendant.

He gave you a soft smile and kissed your forehead. "Anything for my dear Merryment companion."

#astarion ancunin #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 astarion #astarion x reader #bg3 #bg3 fanfic prompt #bg3 tav #astarion x tav #astarion fanfic #baldurs gate fanfiction #baldurs gate 3 #astarion baldurs gate #astarion #baldur's gate 3 #fanfic #writing prompt

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arctophyllax · 5 months

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I may hate Christmas but some people evidently don’t, so I bring to you:

Gifts the Tiefling Bachelors would give and like to receive on Christmas (+ Love Languages)

Zevlor

Love Language(s): Acts of Service, Quality Time, Words of Affirmation

Giving:

• definitely something practical

• warm clothing, protective armor

• maybe some nice books

• alcohol, if he knows that you like alcohol

• his gifts would be sweet and heartfelt

• he would invite you to join him for the evening, take you out for dinner or let you stay over and cook for you

• he would call you to the warm fireplace after eating and give you a messily wrapped gift and perhaps a kiss on the forehead

• he’s sweet, he’s soft, he tries to always give you nice things, like you deserve

• he knows that there was a time where he couldn’t afford giving you these nice things, but that only makes it all the more important to him to do it now

• he wouldn’t expect anything in return, but if you do give him something he will accept it with the most gentle smile and another sweet kiss

Receiving:

• I feel like he would enjoy getting something that reminds him of you

• you could give him the least expensive, silliest thing and he would still thank you for it, especially when it has something to do with who you are

• a piece of your clothing that has your perfume on it (he is a cuddler who will miss you when you’re gone and you can’t convince me otherwise)

• self-made necklaces and bracelets

• gift him a nice weapon, something he can use to protect you, to protect everyone he loved

• quality time.

• simply spend time with him, he will be so happy

———————

Dammon

Love Language(s): Gift Giving, Physical Touch, Acts of Service

Giving:

• you know what I’m about do say, do I even have to say it?

• he would gift you something he made, something you can use to protect yourself

• a weapon, armor, enchanted jewellery

• yes, rings

• he’s so sly, he will make you a nice weapon or a ring and carve in a little watermark

• is it to mark his work? Is it to mark you? You might never know

• books, he knows his way around books… he would pick up on your reading habits and gift you just the right thing

• might gift you something… suggestive. If you’re up for that

• again, quality time

• he’s the type to work even on christmas, but you’re the one person who can pull him away from his l work with one mere word

• would be content to spend the entire evening with you in his arms

• would assure you over and over again how much you mean to him

Receiving:

• if you’re an artist, gift him something you drew or painted

• if you’re a writer, you write him a story or a poem

• if you do any other crafts that require a certain degree of creativity, give him something you made

• inviting him for dinner is also on the table

• be extra affectionate and give him a ton of random kisses

• hang up mistletoes

• you won’t regret that one

• as with Zevlor, he would enjoy something that reminds him of you: clothing with your scent (this has innuendos), random things you found on your travels, trinkets and (non-enchanted) jewellery (of personal value, he likes knowing that you trust him with things that are of personal value to you)

• the obvious: materials (especially infernal ones)

———————

Rolan

Love Language(s): Words of Affirmation, Quality Time, Gift Giving

Giving:

• his presence

• magic shows, little lessons of him also teaching you some tricks

• magic, magic, magic, so much magic

• the type for handwritten letters

• careful, those handwritten letters are one of the only times in the year that he lets his sassy act down and is entirely honest — he probably wrote it drunk

• he would praise you in the letter, tell you how beautiful and strong you are, how much he liked you ever since you dared to tell him to stay at the grove

• alcohol, definitely the type to gift you the best alcohol he can find

• a dance (he’s classy like that)

• after act 3, invites you to Ramazith tower and shows you all the secrets and surprises he found (he’s very excited)

• also shows you his favourite books in the tower

Receiving:

• anything enchanted (this includes you)

• a letter in return to his

• food. Feed that man, he deserves it.

• sweet things, pretty Christmas cookies, build a gingerbread house with him (it’ll be chaotic)

• depending on how good you can cook, you can cook him a hearty stew, something with dark broth, soft meat and a little red wine in it to spice up the taste

• hug him

• he acts like he doesn’t enjoy being hugged but he absolutely does.

• and he NEEDS to be hugged

• tell him he’s precious

• take him to the Christmas market & hold his hand the whole time

#bg3 #baldur’s gate 3 #bg3 zevlor #zevlor #tav x zevlor #zevlor x reader #bg3 dammon #dammon #dammon x reader #dammon x tav #bg3 rolan #rolan #rolan x tav #rolan x reader

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sudokuplayer · 7 months

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MY LOVE IS A WEAPON THROWN ONTO THE OBLIVION OF YOUR BODY (taken from booklet of original art and essays by Sufjan Stevens, written to accompany his new album Javelin)

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1.MY LOVE My first love was an involuntary sound – the music of the spheres – a subdued, white-noise shuddering of my heart, a fluster of hummingbird vibrations that I could taste in the prenatal hemispheres of my mouth, body against body and brain against brain, two conjoined selves conjuring an off-shore thunderstorm in the horizontal distance, dazzling with flashes of metallic music and elemental chaos in the safe harbor of my mother’s womb. There was no light and no dark, no semblance of simile or semaphore. There was only the blurred and audible presence of a distant and divine voice hovering above the waters where I balanced between the prism of absence and presence on an inflatable dirigible of sea foam, wandering into the oleaginous abyss with a half-smile of hazardry and wizardry – my maiden voyage into the “unbeknownst” of oblivion. For what did I really know at this point in my primordial mindlessness? Nothing at all. I was struck dumb, created from ignorance and ether, first without function or features, then without order or form. I was sensation and consciousness postponed, a wet and placid portion of monotonous fruit cut in quarters awaiting heaven’s blessing. My only occupation at this point was to occupy, be occupied, preoccupy, and prevail nature in a womb-world of benevolence and buoyancy. The music of the heartbeat of the universe danced me to sleep. Within this realm, I was love and life supreme, undivided by thought, word and deed, a small promise kept until the act of doing would undo me for good. My birth was my undoing. And then I was born into oblivion.

2.IS I remember in college, falling in love for the first time, two spring months of rapture, residing on the tail end of a helium balloon. I was so giddy about everything: washing the dishes, tying my shoes, scrambling eggs, binding books, pulling berries off juniper trees. My infatuation had such an arrogant persuasion on the world around me. Everything as metaphor ascribed with romance. I remember, while mowing lawns on the college campus, finding an injured fledgling crow by the dining hall. I carried it to the biology lab, where we called a woman who ran an animal sanctuary from her home. She met us on a bike with a wicker basket. “You are doing the universe a great favor,” she said, holding the bird to her breast, like Mother Goose. The event provided endless fodder: for prose poems and folk songs and long conversations on the roof of the aspirin factory, where we got drunk on Boone’s Farm sangria, speculating on cosmic intentions and the order of the universe. So much meaning, so little time. I was young and dumb and in love. Guided by a perverse curiosity and a voracious sensation-of-the-imagination pivoting at the tip of my tongue, I marveled at the mysteries of life laid out before me, awaiting in the calm commotion between innocence and experience.

3.A WEAPON And then experience pummeled me. Many years later, after the long-suffering exhaustion of life had driven me into the bleak underbelly of realism, my most profound thought was sad and static: that nothing really matters, nobody loves me, and loneliness would always be my most devoted companion. In my new sobering worldview, absent of love, I began to encounter everything as an object without meaning, without modifier. The homeless man selling day-old newspapers on the subway was just a homeless man selling day-old newspapers on the subway. There was no metaphor, no rapture, no cosmic intentions. I had to ask myself: does this make the man, the newspaper, the subway, or myself any less meaningful? No. Quite the opposite. For what resided in that substantial vacancy where I was always prone to symbolize the world to death is exactly what I needed right then: Opportunity. Presence of Mind. Peace On Earth. Stable Stoicism. Absence of Metaphor. Responsibility. And Hard Facts. That was my prayer: to shake off the doting artistry of an over-eager poet with a proclivity to create dreams from doldrums; to approach the world as a concrete object, a thing to be held, not a thing to behold, or allegorized; to remain at peace and in careful jurisprudence in spite of the resentful intonation of my overarching loneliness that devastated innocent bystanders with all the magic castles of the imagination. I told myself: I must snuff out the candle of candy-corn dreams. I must soldier on like a dead-end daydream undeterred. I must be steadfast in the stolid presence and essence of common sense and survival. I must be true to life internal and reside in resignation at last.

4.THROWN My second love was less ecstatic, but more tragic: the “gift” of sight – an elemental flash of lightning, which struck me like a bag of metal shavings thrown out onto ice reflecting back at the centerpiece of my sternum. A sucker punch to the chest. My cold consciousness came into sharp focus, rattled by illuminating waves invading everything around me. The light was loud and extraordinary. And even with my eyes closed, my pupils began pontificating at the pornography of sight, and I was momentarily carved into madness. Seeing is believing is birth. I shuddered and shirked at the tangible evidence of something else – the others – the imposition of a sensation outside myself, in which everything was separated into opposable armies: the land from the waters, the air from the earth, the seasons from the doldrums, the seen from the unseen, sin from sainthood, light from dark, good from evil. Everything was put in its place by the curse of namesake. The world was now before me, beneath me, above me, and ultimately against me, a pressure foot pressed down on all sides. I felt a cold claustrophobia, empty and alone, trans-natal and tragic, baffled by the violence of this new environmental context. And to think I was just a silly beansprout of a thing shivering under the medical lights, squirming like an open earthworm, now tasked with this terrible act of naming. God gave me a pen and a pad of parchment paper. “Transcribe your feelings and your findings,” she said. “Do your thing. First thought, best thought.” I did as I was commanded, a dutiful sea urchin inching its way to the possibility of words and wisdom.

5.ONTO A world without language was once the indication of certain death. Soundless, voiceless, nameless vapor. A typography of empty vessels. The void! But now, what of the tragedy of names, spoken into existence with the demystification of words? I was culprit and complicit, identifying all the divergences, differentiations, variations, permutations, diversities, dichotomies and double entendres. Categorizing the animals, cutting them down to size, organizing the parts of the body with the parts of speech, a fanatical grammar-game of possession, domination and death. I had to ask myself: Is this manner of identification in the name of higher knowledge even if it disregards purpose, analysis, and compassion (observation absent of intention)? And how could it be undertaken without idolatry and ulterior motive? I desired the objectivity of the photography of the baby-brain, whose fuzzy visionary reception was a delightful nebula of perfumed consciousness and joy. I wanted to see the world coherently and without discretion, discernment, reduction, and deduction – unintelligible intelligence. Instead I began to perceive how intimate knowledge generates prosperity (fullness) and progeny (fruitfulness) – of ideas and offspring. To be “made known” was to be consummated: “Adam knew Eve” – intercourse as discourse (knowledge as physical/sexual engagement). To know someone was to take possession (to gain access, in confidence and with confidentiality). The exchange would potentially unveil the secret knowledge between lovers (the nominative ordinances of arousal) – wherein posterity would become the observable antecedents of this sacred wisdom, and pleasure would be its misfortune (of infatuation and love, of chaos and order). My sexual discourse began to die a slow death of observation and objectification, a nonsense category of substances seen and deemed believable, predicating a cosmic break from the universe: a psychic rebirth, from which invisible things transformed into figures of speech, wherein figures of speech were left dead in the wake of rivulets and rivers, drowning in a molten waterfall of dread, where they would meet their maker in linguistic whimsy. My death was now new life. My reincarnation, a reverse sublimation. I was made known; therefore, I knew nothing.

6.THE For a short time, my pet peeves were my shortcomings: dry skin in the morning – brushing off the bed sheets with bits of outer insulation from my body. Was I molting? I needed to drink more bitter herbs, I thought. I had chronic stomach pain, below the clavicle, a small fist of air. Sweet antacid, mint leaves, fennel seed tea. Invisible Anxiety. The pain in my leg: a hypochondriac’s dream. Soothing myself with palm oil and camphor. Small applications on the surface. At dinner with guests, supplementing aspirin with ice-water, saying very little otherwise, a friend agreed with everyone’s assessment: “Yes, sometimes you are cold and unfeeling. You could warm it up a little.” My apparent coolness – was it a matter of objective safety? That remote vacancy which I brought to every engagement, keeping the world at arm’s length, the anthropologist’s vantage point, sustaining the presumptive: was that my vocation – the judicious spectator, an odd outlier outlining all this activity while staying behind the line of sight? As the youngest sibling, I was always evaluating my older sisters with fierce judgment from the corner of the room, just out of reach: eavesdropping on phone conversations, catching glimpses of padded bras, curling irons, and maxi pads passed between casual doorways. Taking stock of the panoply of premature adulthood (teenage pregnancy), unruly rebellion (sneaking out at night), clumsy and combative excursions with our wicked step-mother (cat fights with elegantly finger-nailed fisticuffs). I watched from a dutiful distance, careful not to engage, harboring a catalog of tragicomic events and all their moral assessments in order to avoid the worst-case scenario for myself. I was in the world, but not of it. I learned from the mistakes of others: that I was nothing more than a mistake waiting to happen, potential energy. I learned from the mistletoe to keep watch overhead so as to avoid the dangling modifier of accidental affection. I learned from the stone in my shoe to keep walking through the pain with a staggering refrain in my step, a constant reminder of the brokenness of my body and the indefatigable self-loathing of my own self-consciousness.

7.OBLIVION My third love was a surprise affection – ticklish touching and tender swaddles of terry towels and cotton cloth wrapped in armfuls of goose down feathers transfixed in the careful undertaking of childcare. A sensual delight! I was an object to be objectified, a thing to squeeze and prickle, caress and carry about in a breadbasket. I grew from a pinecone to a pine tree, from a newt to a dinosaur, from a poppy-seed to a poppy flower bursting with fireworks. This love then transferred its fornications onto something wet, wild and ornithological – a flying, feathery python ascending to its countenance as a bastion of bridegrooms in a flaming aviary chariot of leathery kisses all aimed at my elbows. Hope is a thing with bird feeders. So I watched the feathered fowl crowd around the seeds and suet, grubs and grains with dinosaur intensity, beaks and claws doing their vast prehistoric business with messy execution. My lovers cawed at their community of plumy mishaps like transcendental mother hens: nuthatch and creeper, tanager and titmouse, blue jay and junco gallivanting together like an armful of woolen throw blankets clapping the dust from their ornamental features. Our fairy dance of foreplay lasted for days. Cat calls as birdsong with balloons, iambic pentameter poems, chimes that rhymed with clanging crystals hung on fishing line, and all the fanciful costumes with sequins and fringe, flowered bell bottoms, metallic body suits, reggae music, ballroom dancing, charm bracelets, diamond rings, glimmering little earrings with fly-fishing ornaments, and, on the last day, a very long and serious monologue about global warming. Our lovemaking was quick and witty, a little slutty and clumsy – nothing more than a jaunt, a quick choreography of slaps and body slams, two pigeons in a mosh pit, working things out in juvenilia. Nature had done its work. Afterward we lounged together in the afterglow with soft pillow talk and dreams of nest eggs and parenting, protecting, foraging, feeding, and changing diapers, all the domestic labors of love. But for now, in a warm bird bath, sunning ourselves with a glistening glow, I could only think of the sweet bliss of here and now, the wetness of loving kisses on my nape, my neck, my back, my rump, my foreshortened wings and a sweet nectar nightcap. Hope is a thing deferred, but a dream fulfilled is a tree of life.

8.OF My fourth love was peripatetic: a suitcase stored in an overhead bin on an airplane. Things beget things beget responsibilities. I procrastinated my life by traveling far from it. A day before the voyage, I stayed up late in the polar forces of the night, diligently packing the baggage on the couch, opened up like can of tuna fish, a glass of lemon juice on the nightstand (master cleanse), the Siamese cat washing itself, the dollar store dishes in the sink, my dirty clothes in a paper bag. The last time I had left for this kind of trip, my things were in boxes in one room on the second floor of a gated town house in God-knows-where, New York. Now everything had been transferred as in a swap meet, boxes upon boxes, things upon things, other voices, other rooms. The living room was a labyrinth of speculative journeys, a crossword puzzle of travel prompts. Outside, gale force winds rose to the occasion, knocking on the windows like unwanted guests. I imagined the weather overtaking everything in an apocalyptic frenzy: cups and saucers trembling in tongues, plastic wrap coming undone in a transparent wedding train, pillowcases falling over our heads like hard hats, ceiling fans circumnavigating the neighborhood like helicopter rides, the colored crayons on the kitchen shelf thrown asunder to make slapdash hieroglyphs all over the window panes, the mysterious penmanship of the gods! My mind was preoccupied by disaster, a force majeure, an act of God, a ball of yarn, and the four horses of the Apocalypse. I wanted nothing of it: this origami suitcase lifestyle of travel and transition. I wanted to be here and now. I wanted silence, solace, and stillness. I wanted the simplest of things: a bowl of vanilla ice cream, a warm bath, and a quiet place to sit and stitch my hand-crafted cross-stitch of rainbows and sailboats framing a sexy cartoon portrait of Dionne Warwick diligently working the lines for the Psychic Friends Network from way back in the 1990s, when every solution to every problem was just a phone call away.

9.YOUR History repeats itself, defeats itself, cheats itself, berates and beats itself. I am not historic. I am histrionics. I must hate my mother and my father. I must hate myself and take up the cross and be born again. In this way, my fifth love was an immutable shadow following me with sticky tricks and schemes, a cancerous contamination of the mind that could only be cured with the deadly venom of a cone snail. I couldn’t quite shake it, the cobalt-blue memory of a ghost haunting my sophistry, a prescient reminder that the knowledge of faith and the substance of hope were right behind me this entire time (and not something to pursue, or follow, like an ornamental object on the horizon, dazzling, elusive and alive in the distant future). The Divine Inside was a “previously known encounter.” I could never see it face to face, but only feel it in my shadow, the former patterns of an aura left behind, pushing forward, pursuing, persuading, steering and navigating my memory through the valley of the shadow of death. I wanted so desperately to “have and to hold” the real substance of things (evidence!), the physical, intimate engagement with the body and the blood, which I actively sought out in transcendental activity, prayer and supplication, the sacraments, the feasts of the saints, a metaphysical substance to salivate and sublimate within the natural order of things. But this was a false pretense. God is not natural, but supernatural. The real material of divinity is ineffable, unassailable, unknowable, unutterable, and unreal. The evidence of providence is not within our line of sight, nor within our grasp, but instead beyond and behind our physical kinesphere. It is unapproachable, unspeakable, unobservable, and ultimately “erstwhile”. And yet still we continue to feel it “under our skin” and “within the universe” of our own personal history: The Past/The Passed/The Repossessed. God is our delayed consciousness – the nameless, faceless dichotomy of our secret truth. And we are made in its indistinguishable appearance. Therefore our own true “image” is without a name or a face – a baseless, shapeless cloud hovering above the waters, a countenance of empty atmosphere (signifying nothing) – a gothic apparition, a vision of love, a dance of the eternal travesty of life, a burrowing beetle of impenetrating curiosity. Digging for the true grit of life in the eternal dirt of the universe.

10.BODY My last love was a kind of science fiction. I was out running errands at the mall when I saw a fleet of lampshades falling like flying saucers from the sky. The alien robots came to me in an escalating beam of light and said: “We come in peace! The obverse seeks to make its face shine upon you, while the inverse hides in shame.” They did their thing with my body, prodding and poking around for some good news, but at first I would have none of it. I struggled and squirmed under nylon restraints strapped onto a stainless steel operating table. I was a basket case of curmudgeonly vitriol, pointing out everything that was wrong with the world around me: Fossil fuels. Cancer. Money. Greed. Sales Tax. Frozen Yoghurt. Religion. Varicose Veins. Junk Mail. But the alien robots were unflappable. They said, “We just need a little DNA, not a diatribe,” while swabbing the insides of my mouth with a cottony Q-tip. Then, after careful intubation and a slow drip of aesthesia, I eased into the abyss. They removed my clothes and covered my body with a marshmallowy spray foam. They swaddled me into a warm cocoon of maroon goo, where I remained in stasis to the end of the ages, slowly resuming into the soft, pillowy features of my former self – pre-natal, premature, pre-conceived – a slippery and succulent primordial membrane of soupy warmth and illuminating agency awaiting, once again, the cosmic journey laid out before me like a yellow-brick road of possibilities – the secret oblivion of love, the “unbeknownst!” Within this pinprick vision, I saw a tapestry of afterbirth in afterglow as an addendum to an immaculate after-thought of rapturous joy. I was born-again in fullness and truth. I was a peanut. I was a pretzel. I was a pan-fried shrimp. I was pandemonium personified. I was once again myself waiting to happen again and again and again and again and again … until the end.

— Sufjan Stevens

#sufjan stevens #javelin

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sheep-from-rad · 1 year

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Stay with me, Sway with me ♡ (SAGAU) Note: This song, I love this so much. This is a request by @mehhiah, sorry it took me so long to tackle this one. Also please, if you have requests put it in the ask box so I can easily see it (also priv messages scares me sorry). Anyway, I’m absolutely involved with this song, I hope you guys enjoy it! LASTLY, MY REQUESTS ARE CURRENTLY CLOSED. Warnings: Semi-ooc (?), Prince Kaeya theory (I really love that one so I added it), bullet type, semi-yandere-ish [Masterlist 1] , [Masterlist 2]

Ever since the traveler breaks the wall that separates their lives from the dark reality about them being trapped in a game, music together with other factors has been a part of everyone’s lives. It’s not uncommon for foreign sounding music to be played everywhere, even in churches. Traveler songs being played together with new ones, old ones getting mixed up and rewritten to fit the new ones. While aware, sometimes you just forget that they are indeed alive and can interact with you.

You held the broom in your hands, pressing it close to your chest imagining a microphone, the ones that you can see at concerts and live bars. You put on your headphones, eyes fixated on the task of cleaning your room before the holiday ends. “When Marimba rhythm starts to play…”

Diluc pretends like he’s not paying attention to the song that you are currently singing. It’s not the same as the songs that he is used to hearing both from the locals and from the Bard god. It has a sensual tone on it and it bears an air of refinery that reminds him of the fallen aristocrats Mondstadts used to have. He doesn’t care about crowns and wealth but being named as an uncrowned king, he can’t help but imagine the two of us dancing in such a song. In, in his arms at the after hours of the tavern to the early hours of dawn. Maybe he’ll steal a kiss or two, that if you let him to.

Kaeya was having a late night drink when he heard the song that you are singing. It reminds him of that time he and Rosaria got so drunk they decided to climb Albedo’s laboratory but ended up watching Eula dance in the frozen waters (she chased them afterwards and chased them at work). Nobles sure love their fancy dances and he was not safe from Crepus’s dancing lessons as well. He can imagine the two of you dancing in the empty, semi-dim ballroom. Just the two of you, with the rich robes on your body and crown on his head. If he can’t run from his fate, he might just go embrace it if it means embracing you as his own.

Venti writes a song while he listens to you sing. He is so used to the songs of praise or song of tales but a song that tells about desire is something that is new to his ear. Serenades to exist in Teyvat but they don’t go as far as to tell the most intimate desires. They only go on the surface and barely scratch the realm of what love is supposed to feel. Tomorrow comes the musical revolution and for sure everyone who hears the song of the night will make something of the same liking. He hopes that before you descend, he will be able to write the best song that describes his whole heart.

Ayato finds himself a little flustered by the song. Inazuma just opened again a long time ago and the only references that he has on such subjects are those written by the locals and tales of his workers. It is safe to say that Inazuma is still in the age of conservatism even though it is now slowly advancing to be able to walk at the same pace as the other nations. He can’t help but stand up and away from his work, thinking about the lyrics of the song over and over. Bards sing about their feelings and poets make poems about the things that entices their feelings, does it mean you want someone to hold you close and bend you on the dancefloor? If so, he wants to be the one to do it.

Alhaitham was taking notes. Dances are not uncommon in Sumeru but it is also not something practiced freely until the traitorous sages fell from their thrones. Dances and arts in general are still in their toddler days and he is glad that they get references from other nations. He notes the song being sensual, a type of song that only sang on weddings or intimate dates. The type of dance that he wants to share with you. To pull you by the hand and cradle your head possessively while he glare at everyone who wants to get close. It’s not like he’s gonna let someone get close to you. Not the traveler, not the sages, and definitely not Kaveh. That or, maybe he’ll let Kaveh join in

Taglist! @tinandabin | @chihawari |@eccedentesiast-sapphic @jaxielous |@uchihaeirin |@zuri-feather

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kanmom51 · 7 months

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JK Live 4 October 2023

21:01 or 9:01 pm KST

cr./To all the creators of the media used in this post.

I was waiting for this, and kind of expecting this to happen, lol.

He said he'd be live at 9 pm. And yes, you can say, it's unintentional, a coincidence, but I say NO.

Both JK and JM have shown us over the years their attention to the numbers, the dates.

Starting the live at 9:01 was intentional.

9/1 or 1/9, however you look at it!!

Let's talk about the live, why don't we?

It was definitley an interesting one.

In a gist, JK shut down (well tried to) the whole Mingyu shipping shit. He most definitley shut down TKKs. I actually kinda, maybe (not really), felt sorry for them.

He listened to all the members songs, with certain degrees of favouritism and certain degrees of, well, not...

He drank. Like a lot. I think maybe someone needs to fill him in on the secret that alcohol does have calories. Yes, whiskey might not be as bad as beer on that front, but drinking as much and then not eating cause he's dieting... well, not the healthiest choice. And this is not, god forbid, me mothering or smothering him. His health is important for his performance (he says that himself), not to mention, man is constantly hungry. Eat more, is what I'm saying.

He once again demonstrated his neuro-divergency (that whole clean up session he had in the kitchen, lol).

He showed us, again that's it's all about choices.

He got pensive and serious at a point and said some very important things, which I will, of course, discuss here in my post.

He is super tired, but really struggling to sleep.

He is fighting so hard to drop the cute image, but man, it's just imbedded in him. He is so cute!!!

And he is so genuine.

He is genuine.

Let us begin our journey into JK's almost 1.5 hour live (yep, we are back to those, lol).

He starts out telling us he just got home from the company, and that he hasn't even prepared his glass (of drink) - kind of solidifies my belief that the 9:01 pm starting time was meaningful and intentional, because then he goes and prepares his glass and drink.

He invited us to have drinks with him, so as he's preparing his own drink he tells us to fill up our glasses as well, lol. Throughout the live he has 3 highballs, and by the end of the live admits he's kind of drunk. Which is not that surprising given he is drinking on an empty stomach (as high as his tolerance to alcohol may be).

He explains he came on Weverse on the 4th and not earlier because of his solo album announcement. Golden. Makes a toast with us to celebrate it. And he talks a little about it as well.

He tells us how Golden represented him after debut. We know him as the Golden maknae, he mentions I think GC (which for some reason they translate as golden chest and not golden closet, maybe because whoever is translating isn't aware of golden closet, who knows...), how he wrote a poem called Golden (the one JM went all gushy about, if you recall), And also "this moment is like a golden period for me." - Golden hour perhaps? Kind of fits with his choice of lighting for the live as well. Just saying.

And there you have it!!!

And after seeing this, go back and take another look at his concept photo...

The album includes 3D and the clean and explicit versions of Seven. 11 songs on it, which means we will get to hear 8 new songs!!!

He also explains how he thought he would release an ep and somehow it became a full album.

He didn't give too much info (well, he couldn't of course), but told us the title track has a performance and he's practicing, like A LOT. He wants to do well and is giving it his best. He also lets us know that the title song is a hard one and will be awesome!! I do hope this one is not a collab though (just my own wishes here). He is confident we will like it, and says we can look forward to it. I know I am.

He's complaining about how his body isn't the same, he's exhausted. Well JK my man, you wanted to be a adult, and us adults, we grow old too, lol...

He says "there is nothing that is making me stressed out, I am just tired." Now, that could be meant about the album being released, or the performance he's preparing for. But it could also be more...

He says he's keeping his voice down and wanted to be calm and have "older bro vibe", lol.

He wants to go with older bro vibe. Appear to be more mature? Since his full album is coming out?

Ok, so I'm going to say this here. The translation is somewhat off and wacky. I felt this with JM's live on 1st September with some of it, and I feel the same here as well. The whole golden chest thing, the "I'm keeping the weight down" when he's talking about the older bro vibe, and more... It feels like a. whoever is doing this doesn't know JK too much (the golden chest is a big clue), and b. are they just translating literally and not the actual sentence meaning?

JK shares with us how tired he is, how he's still having trouble sleeping, that he practiced real hard today and that his upcoming schedule is hellish. I can only imagine. He's really worried, "will I be good at this?"

Now, let's stop here for a second shall we? Didn't he just minutes before tell us he's not stressed out? So, perhaps that wasn't about the album and promotions at all? Perhaps that was more about the white noise shitshow that was going on in the background? Telling us that isn't bothering him, all while now sharing with us that what he is worried about is if he'll be good enough, do well enough with his performances?

He shows us he got an IV today, needs to replenish himself, yet he hasn't eaten. "I have to take care of my body too". Yes he does. But at the same time he says he has to lose weight. It kind of frustrates me, but then again, this is their reality, as idols. I just wish there would be less pressure on them in that aspect.

He reads a comment telling him to do well, says he will.

And then this:

Ok, so thing is, please raise your hand if you actually do believe the commenter was asking JK if he loves Taehyun of TXT.

No show of hands I see.

Lmao.

Nah, when this happened I didn't have the comments on and in any case wouldn't have been able to read them, not knowing Korean. But I kind of felt like maybe whoever wrote it wasn't Karmy and misspelled it perhaps? And then I saw this.

So here's the thing. If this was a misspell, makes sense that JK was maybe blissfully unaware of the intent of the comment.

But if this was indeed spelled out correctly, I kind of have my doubts he didn't read it right, especially given he says it twice before answering. And he's off telling us about TXT Taehyun. Whom he spoke with on the phone that day. He's so well mannered and cute, while being an old soul. Ok, here we go with another Taekook ship, lol. JK spoke to someone - must be something going on there. No wonder the man is so damn tired... Seven days a week seven sets of sheets... (eww... NOOOOOOO). No, but seriously, did we know that Taehyun was a good friend of JK's? No we didn't. Now we do.

Not seeing it doesn't mean it's not there!!!

It's funny how JK runs himself down constantly. Like the man is so intelligent. Perhaps not book smart (which is why he keeps saying he's not smart), but not everything about life is learnt from a book, and his emotional intelligence and artistic intelligence are next level. But he keeps running himself down, and I kind of feel that sometimes fans only hear or see that of him, instead of seeing his art and listen to what actually comes out of his mouth when he starts speaking about the deeper things.

Again, the "I'm Jungkook's girlfriend" comments. Ugh yuck. Like shut the fuck up already. But he just brushes it off. Reads it, asks what they are doing at this hour and snickers.

Comment "I really love you a lot". JK "I think I love you more". This is once again JK cementing just how great his love for army is. He will talk about it more later too.

Look, man loves army. We can't even start to understand the connection he has with army, given his whole career, starting out at such an early age and going through all the struggles that they went through to get where they are right now, feeling that it's because this sense of loyalty and love that army have for them. So yes, he loves army.

And another idiot in the comments asking JK to take off his shirt. Of course these people are flooding his comments. Funny how his reaction is:

Yes he giggles, but he's uncomfortable. And asks why they even said that. "It's embarrassing".

Happy that he called them out. As if it will help though.

JK shows us his Vogue magazine, the hip hop concept, which he says he liked the most.

Ok, so this was maybe intentional (I kinda feel it was), maybe not, but cute none the less.

He talks about how the comments are lagging, slow, and says:

and then he thinks for a second, eyes looking to the side (mind working), and goes:

Kind of random, don't you think?

Coming up with the 13 seconds lagging.

And happening to end up with 10-13. 🤣🤣

So, he started the live at 9-1 and now we have 10-13!!!

I'd say, either this was intentional (him stopping to think might just hint to that) or the man has 13 etched on his brain. 13 and 10, which is kind of coming up very soon...

Next JK talks about the TikTok he deleted.

Now here's the thing. On Stationhead JK said he saw the trend and wanted to do it. Not a word about doing the opposite of the trend. Going "the other way". JK isn't saying he didn't want us to see the clip he uploaded (which kind of might have been what was understood from what he said in Stationhead, and maybe that's why he's clarifying here). He says he wanted his TikTok to be for dancing and that's why he deleted. He also seems to be happy that army had seen it and spread it around regardless of him deleting. So, he wanted us to see it, but better it not be on his TikTok. And the thing is that he posted it to start with. He knew that army will catch it and spread it. He knew!!! And he wanted us to. I don't know how to articulate this properly to make my point clearly, but the whole thing screams Queer coding to me. I talked about it in a previous post, and I stand by my words.

This wasn't about doing something silly and then regretting and deleting. This was about posting something with a message, and then deleting because it couldn't stay up on his account ("as long as it's not on my tiktok"), but relying on army to catch it and spread it around.

"Let's talk in English", reading out a comment...

The Nah, though, lol.

"English is so difficult", he says in English, lol.

Talks about how the comments are slow and the responses in Stationhead were immediate, and then, out of nowhere he's going...

Puiriri...

Well, he actually does this during Like crazy as well.

Nope, not JM on the brain what so ever...

"Korean is sexy"...him going with that's right, Korean is the hardest language... He actually talks about how the translations from English to Korean differ from translator to translator and how interesting that is. True about the opposite way as well, seeing the difference in the structures of both languages.

"You want to see me laugh?"

Funny, the original translations were "smile if you're real". Either way, he's hilarious.

I can't with him. LMAO.

Prepares drink no. 2.

Again, this man doesn't want to be called cute, but he's so damn cute, lol. Like how can you be preparing this alcoholic drink and still be so cute about it? Lol.

No tequila or champagne for JK.

"You want to have a drink with me?"

JK: You already all know it.

Why does it feel like JK is talking about so much more than just knowing his address is up on YT?

"You want me to call out my address? But you really can't visit me." Boundaries set once again. With a smile. But set none the less.

Plays a song he tells us he was recommended by one of the dancers while filming 3D MV. 21 by Gracie Abrams.

Says we'll be like this today "let's rest". How you can call what he does later as rest I have no idea, lol.

He shows us where he shot the TikTok clips, the corridor. Shows and explains a little how he does it.

Does a little clean up sesh in the kitchen. The way he was rearranging the bottles and utensils, while on live, was that intentional? Was it just his neuro divergency, getting distracted perhaps? Idk.

Asked if he ate, asks "what will I eat?" in English and tries to say something else or thinks maybe he didn't say it properly initially, but gives up, lol.

Then someone askes to hear Hobi's song. And JK is happy to go put on Jhope's song, saying he misses him. 😭

Says "Arson", twice, but then plays "More", lol.

Ok, so this is where we start with listening to the members songs, and I do have something to say about this.

JK plays 2 of Hobi's songs, and puts on a show.

If this is JK resting... Lol.

Sure he's tired...

After Hobi, JK plays Tae's Slow dancing.

Then stops the song, sits down saying how tiring have to rest and then says "Let's go with all the major songs for the members".

And guess who's next... one guess allowed... Of course you know the answer to that.

He has Like crazy playing twice in a row and then SMF pt. 2. He really LOVES SMF pt. 2. You can tell it means A LOT to him. Not that LC doesn't, but I feel that emotionally LC is harder for him, while SMF pt. 2 is cathartic (for JM and as such so meaningful to him as well).

He's all playful with LC.

We have this as well...

And at some point wants to do something, walks off camera looking for a prop, I guess, only to come back deciding it's a no go - won't be fun (me sitting here dying to know what he was up to).

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The whole bottle empty during LC.

He moves on to Jin, 1 and a half songs, RM (3 songs) and Suga (2 songs).

Point being, the only member that gets only 1 song played is Tae. Ouch. The only member to have the same song played twice - JM.

So, let's talk a second about the whole Like crazy playing twice. Cause Idk if you get it. He listens to Hobi and then Tae's Slow dancing, then says "we have to listen to all the members", cause he ain't falling into the TKK trap, and he plays JM. Cause, of course it would be JM. But here's the thing. Each one of them was on a specific playlist. When he played a song it continued to the next song in line. Hobi he said Arson, but actually played More (which was interesting within itself), and then it went to On the streets. RM same, went down through his album, Suga the same. But not JM. He played Like crazy, and then following it, him not moving from his chair or changing the songs or going to play it again, it played it again. Same version. In the album Like crazy is followed by SMF pt. 2 (which did follow the second time LC played, and he did listen through that too). So my question is what kind of playlist JK has for JM? Does he just have these songs going on repeat? He gets up to stop it just at the end of SMF pt. 2, and I can't help but wonder what the next song would have been? SMF pt. 2 again maybe?

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Of course he still remembers the choreo.

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He talks about Jin and Super Tuna, how he's wild and that side of him is why the team is so bright. He really loves him so, and misses him.

"I miss my members".

Prepares drink no. 3.

The whole ceremony around the drink preparations... he's so funny.

He makes a comment about Jin's MV while looking towards where his whole music playing set up is. So, this is YT he's playing from? Which means these would be YT playlists? Which means he watches LC on repeat? I mean, who could blame him really?

Gets up to change the playlist to RM's songs.

While Flowerworks is playing he reads a comment and says:

"Did Mingyu cut his hair?"

Now, we know they saw each other later that night, getting together with others as well, but JK once again draws the lines here. He's a good friend definitley. Someone he hangs out with, of course. But knowing if he cut his hair... meaning being in constant contact with him or more than that, as there are some that might think... nope.

Ok, time to get serious.

He starts to talk about the members songs, their "colours are so different", and then he's asked after resuming activities in 2025 what he wants all the members to do together? Turns down the music a bit to get serious:

Make an album, quickly come out to see army, first priority of course. From the moment they get back together to find the way to come out as quickly as possible. "We will do Bon voyage...we will do In the soop..."

Stops, gets up to turn down the volume even more, and this is when you know he's delving even deeper, and getting even more serious. Sits down and continues...

Ok, I'm really not sure this is about the solo activities. He talks about that further on. I thought this when I first heard this during the live, and although the wording is slightly different I still think this is JK is sending us a message. They love us, they love each other. They will be coming back and they will be giving it their all. But that said, they will also have their own personal lives. Setting the stage, perhaps? For relationship announcements? Marriages on the way? He told us that he wants to make us happy, but to do so we have to understand that he deserves happiness as well. Is this one step further in that direction? yes their focus is on army, but with all of that they will also have their own personal paths.

He continues about them wanting to "look awesome" in front of us, or want to give us strength,

He knows what his top priority is, and he hopes we know that we are the reason. For real.

He continues to talk about coming back in 2025, releasing a song, saying it will be approx. 2 years.

They mustn't forget there are those rooting for BTS. Train, release an album, tour.

They will have to meet army around the world.

This is interesting:

They will reveal by doing shootings and "let your ears get pleased and let you watch our shows". Stories

"BTS is this kind of team". That is what they will show.

And what members each want to do, they can do that later. Him making clear that their first priority is the comeback as BTS.

Number one priority is about the group, and he makes sure we understand that this is not only him speaking but also true for every single one of them.

Again, army's importance to him. This isn't acting or being false or fake, this is genuinely what he feels. When said in a comment that army are because of BTS he corrects them, sets things straight: BTS are here because of army!!

And then this happens:

"Jeon Jimin?" he reads out a comment.

Now, I understand people think it's disrespectful because of the meaning it has in the West but the fact that in Korea people don't change their names after marriage. Thing is, Karmy nor JK, for that matter, really find it offensive? He doesn't even take it that way. To him it's someone putting their two names together, I'd say just like Jikook or minkook or kookmin. Nothing more nothing less. And he chooses to read it out. He could have just left it, but he decided to read the comment out.

This is when he remembers he has to play Suga's songs too, lol. Playing Haegeum.

"How can all the member have such different tastes in music? Isn't that fascinating?"

I love it that he feels that way. I love it that he knows how talented he is (especially knowing how he runs himself down intellectually). I love that he knows and appreciates the rest of the members talent as well. They are all different, and yet all outstanding each in their own way.

And not only does he see that in them, he also attributes his own growth as a person to them.

JK tells us how Yoongi told him off for not doing the Haegeum dance challenge, repeats it a couple of times too, how he was upset about it, lol. So he says he will do it. A little late, no? And he makes sure to make it clear that it won't be soon either. But it will go up on his TikTok.

Toilet break time.

Comes back, finishes up his drink and stops Amygdala to play Seven and 3D before he ends his live.

So, he chooses the explicit version of Seven. Sings along. Admits he's a little drunk and for now will stop drinking. Emphasis on "for now", lol.

Now, while he's playing Seven someone asks for him to play Slow dancing.

Once is enough, thank you very much!! Lmao. He just keeps shutting them down. It's also the way he says it, the intonation. Sound annoyed, lol.

Says he'll play 3D and say his goodbyes, which he does. Sings along to 3D as well, ad-libbing at the end, kind of wondering if this is something we will be getting in his live performances. It does feel like he chooses to sing certain lyrics while not others, in both Seven and 3D.

Then he says his goodbyes, to look forward to the album, to know that he is always thinking of us, to have a wonderful night and day and thanks us again .

So that's it. JK's live. Missed these lives of his, as exhausting as writing these posts are, lol. This is Jungkook. Cute and funny and serious and sincere.

#Jungkook #JK #JK live #Jikook #Kookmin #Minkook #Jimin #JM #Youtube

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kateac12 · 3 months

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How the HotD guys would ask you out

Jace

-Jace has the whole situation planned to a T. He did not spend several hours in his rooms practicing how he'd ask you out. When you two are talking alone, he gifts you a single red rose. But despite his hours of practice, his voice still trembles when asking "(y/n), would you like to go out with me?"

Luke

-This poor boy would be a blubbering mess. He'll spend hours obsessing over his clothes and hair. He knows beauty comes from the inside, but he's been overshadowed by his older brother and uncles all his life. He just wants you to like him. But when it's time to ask you out, all he can muster is "(y/n), would you like...would you like to take me out on a date?"

Aemond

-Aemond is the type of guy to pretend not to notice you. He doesn't mean to, but he's insecure himself (a missing eye and a lifetime of bullying will do that to you). But when he gets you alone, he'll recite a romantic poem that he composed, which compliments your beauty and character. When he's finished, he asks "would you like to ride Vhagar with me?"

Aegon

-You can tell this boy is into you from a mile away. Whenever you walk into a room, he stares at you like a deer in headlights. He's not shy to compliment your appearance (but when he's drunk, he can be vulgar about his attraction to you). He'll just come right up to you and kiss you in front of people. That's his way of communicating to you that you're his.

#jace velaryon #luke velaryon #aemond targaryen #aegon targaryen #jace velaryon x reader #luke velaryon x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen x reader #house of the dragon #game of thrones #asoiaf #house targaryen

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who-knew-a-sheep-can-write · 15 days

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Sketches: Arthur Morgan x Plus-Sized!Reader (Semi-NSFW)

Nothing sexual, just drawings of a naked reader

From the moment you first met him, you would have never guessed that he could be this soft and gentle as a person. You had seen his hands bruised and bloodied, knuckles split and fingertips rubbed raw to the point they split open from the many fist fights and bar brawls he had been in. His hands, large and powerful like that of a bear, calloused from years of a hard life on the run, were not meant to be rest other than the little bit of peace he got when he would pass out after a horribly long day. His body, riddled with many scars, divots and healed over gashes, he had convinced himself that he would never let another see it in any way domestic after Mary.

He had convinced himself that he would never be able to live a domestic life.

Whenever he would ride into town or past the many farmhouses that dotted the southern countryside, he couldn’t help but feel envious at the sight of the many families that built up farms and towns. He yearned to have a life other than crime, but it was all he knew.

He almost didn’t believe he was alive when you both had started to fancy each other. Really, for Arthur, it was the moment you had joined in on the gang as it had really been your only hope at this point. He thought his brain had finally started to take a hike to nowhere when he caught you multiple times glancing at him - especially when he would stand up from picking something heavy up. You always looked away quickly, finding something immediately to occupy yourself and especially your hands, turning away to hide your heating face.

It wasn’t until you both found yourselves drunk in a dirty saloon, clinging onto each other while laughing at nothing like fools in love, barely managing to dance with each other as the pianist chimed away at the ivory keys that you both fell in love.

You had horribly misjudged Arthur upon first meeting him. Even as you laid next to him in his tent, your soft and plush body pushed up right against his rock-hard one, you still found yourself feeling so remorseful for thinking he was just some brute.

Arthur loved how warm you were. Some nights in his tent were brutal when horrible weather set in over the camp, especially when it rain and the winds howled outside, threatening to blow his tent right over. He loved how soft you were even more.

He felt like it was oh so wrong for his hands to grace your soft skin, but he loved it with every fiber of his being. He loved tracing shapes into your plush thighs without a thought in his mind. He loved digging his large hands into your wide hips to bring you closer to him. He loves coming into the tent after a long day of dealing with Dutch’s bullshit to bury his head in your stomach and hold you tightly as you combed your fingers through his hair.

It only made his heart ache something awful when he would be away from camp for days on end, whether it was somehow scraping together supplies for camp or chasing down jobs. Arthur always made sure to bring his journal wherever he went, but even more so now. Between the pages where he logged his thoughts in messy scripture and small doodles of whatever he came across, he would find himself writing about you. Sometimes it was little poems he would come up with on the spot so quickly he swore a child could write better. Sometimes it was him logging what you had said to him that clouded his mind, rooting in and flourishing like a field of flowers.

But what Arthur had been scribbling in his journal lately was something he even found himself flushing at: Your body. He didn’t mean to at first, but his hands had worked faster than his brain could process. But after the first sketch of you, he just had to do another, and then another in a different pose, and the one of you in a pose only he could see in the comforts of his tent.

That’s where Arthur found himself now, in his tent in the dead of night. The rest of the gang had finally gone to bed except for you the two of you. Arthur was lounged on his cot, his journal tucked up on his propped leg as the other hung off, his heel tapping against the hard ground. His eyes were trained on his journal, forest green hues dazed with lust, fingers were shaking ever so slightly, his fingertips were dusty with the ground up graphite from how much he had been sketching.

He poured his heart into the details of your body he loved so much. He swore he could never do justice, his drawings were nothing more than chicken scratch compared to the real thing.

Little did he know the real thing hadn’t actually gone to sleep in their own bed in their own tent, just waiting for everyone to finally fuck off to bed before they slipped out into the night as stepped lively to his own.

He chewed at the inside of his cheek in concentration. He had to get it all right: The way your body could move, the way you saunter around with those delish wide hips that tempt him every day, the way your soft belly curves, your thighs that could make him cry, your soft and round cheeks he loved to press kisses to. He loved how your naked body looked, he wished he could hold it forever until time would stop. He sketched your stretchmarks that would find himself tracing, your nipples pebbled when he would kiss at your chest, your hands grabbing at your ample body. He drew your legs apart this time, normally sketching them closed, as he tried to pay attention to the detail of your sex when he heard something that made him snap his journal closed in an instant.

His eyes shot up to his tent where he heard you clear your throat softly.

“Arthur?” you cooed softly at him. Just your voice alone sent warm vibrations down to his core. “You mind a lil’ company tonight?”

You parted the opening of his tent and stepped through, a perfect sight to really ignite the fire in him. A devious smile spread across your face at just the sight of Arthur’s pupils blown wide with a feral need.

“Darlin’, the day I say no to that is the day ya put me in the ground.”

#red dead redemption 2 #rdr #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #arthur x reader

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